The Secrets She Kept

by Brenda Novak

  Finally, frustrated and shivering against a stiff wind, he’d ambled over to Speed’s, which wasn’t a wise decision. He could tell just by looking at the junk in the yard and the beat-up cars in the drive that nothing had changed.

  Whether it was smart or not, he sort of missed Speed, too. Not in the way he missed Nancy, but Speed wasn’t a bad person. He was caught in the same cycle of addiction that had trapped Keith for so long, and he was dealing to support his habit.

  Keith wasn’t sure how he’d managed to avoid knocking on that door. He’d known he’d be far more welcome there than he would at Nancy’s, which had added to the temptation. But, somehow, he’d found the strength to return home just as the sun was coming up and had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Thank God he hadn’t ruined five years of sobriety, he thought as he stretched. Seeing the sun shining through the shutters gave him hope that returning to Fairham wouldn’t set him back, after all. But staying clean was always easier during the day. Nights were much harder, and in seven hours it would be dark again...

  He reached over to get his phone so he could see if Chief Underwood had responded to the text he’d sent in the middle of the night, asking if she’d been able to track the person who’d made that phone call.

  She’d responded, all right. Judging by the time on the text, she’d gotten up at the crack of dawn, right when he was falling into bed. But she hadn’t shared any information. We’ll talk tonight.

  With a sigh, Keith tossed his phone on the carpet beside him, rolled over and went back to sleep. And he didn’t wake up until it was almost time for their dinner.

  * * *

  “You look amazing.”

  Nancy managed a rather wobbly smile. Tom had told her that so many times since he’d appeared at her door: You bought a new dress...? Wow, you’re hot... I’m going to take you to some other fancy places so I get to see you in that dress again!

  Those compliments fed her ego, especially since she’d never felt attractive enough for Keith. But Tom had been touching her at every opportunity, which reminded her of a dog that wouldn’t stop licking. He was too eager, and it made her shrink away.

  “Thank you,” she murmured and hoped, by keeping her response short and simple, he’d get the hint and talk about something besides her appearance.

  Sadly, he missed that subtle cue. “I mean it,” he said. “I’ve never seen you looking so good.”

  She barely managed to keep her smile in place. Who knew that having someone compliment her too much could be as off-putting as feeling overlooked or inferior? “It’s just a new dress, okay?” A Herve Leger off-the-shoulder bandage dress that’d cost almost two days’ wages, but still... It was black, so she could wear it to the funeral—whenever that was. Even Josephine couldn’t have looked down her nose at this number.

  He leaned away from the table as their waiter, Bobby LaSalle, came with the wine. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” he said to Bobby.

  They hadn’t left the island. They were in Keys Crossing, eating at the nicest restaurant in town—down by the wharf, near the water. Nancy knew Bobby, and that added to her embarrassment. “Stop.” She gestured for Bobby to forget the question, which he could answer only one way. “I’m flattered,” she said to Tom. “But, please, that’s enough.”

  Bobby winked at her. “As far as I’m concerned, she always looks like a million bucks,” he said and hurried back to the kitchen.

  “Bobby’s mother cuts my hair,” she whispered to Tom. “I’ve known him since I was twenty-four and he was in middle school.”

  He reached for his wine. “You’re talking about our waiter?”

  “Yes. Bobby.” She’d introduced them when Bobby first appeared and announced he’d be “taking care of” them. That was only a few minutes ago.

  “Nice guy,” he said and took a sip.

  Tom’s words were appropriate—she couldn’t fault him there—but his throwaway tone told Nancy he wasn’t really paying attention, and he obviously hadn’t been paying attention before. He liked her dress, liked the cleavage and skin it showed, and that was the only thing on his mind.

  She’d just decided it was going to be a long night—and that she wouldn’t be using the new lingerie she’d bought, after all—when she saw something that made her wish she was anywhere else.

  * * *

  Chief Underwood had traced the phone call to a disposable phone. She’d also been able to determine that the caller had been somewhere near the lighthouse, which was the farthest point from Keys Crossing. Other than the occasional home built way back in the vegetation, there weren’t many people living in that area.

  Did that mean the caller had intended to mislead the police? That he was actively avoiding identification and might be savvy enough to pull it off?

  Harper had told Keith what she’d learned while they were driving to the restaurant. She’d also said she hadn’t given up yet. She was trying to track the serial number of that phone to the store where it’d been purchased, hoping to find an image of the person who’d bought it on security video.

  Keith appreciated the effort. Given the odds, though, he wasn’t particularly optimistic. Most of the bigger stores had security cameras, but what about the mom-and-pop places that didn’t? There had to be at least a few of those, especially on the islands. Smitty’s, for instance, was the biggest store in town, yet it didn’t have security cameras. Or did it? He hadn’t been there recently, but there’d been no cameras when he’d lived here before. And even if she found the store and it did have cameras, unless there was a burglary or some other obvious problem that required visual proof, a lot of places simply recorded over earlier stuff. That meant timing could be an issue, too.

  “Let’s talk about why someone might send you to my house in the middle of the night,” he said as they entered the restaurant.

  “I don’t have an answer to that. Do you? I’ve thought about it, but I can’t believe the intruder who came in that night wanted to get caught—a plausible assumption since he purposely avoided detection. If you hadn’t seen those wet footprints, we wouldn’t even have known he was there. We would’ve continued to think it was a false alarm.”

  The intruder could’ve called afterward because he wanted them to know he’d been there. But that didn’t seem too likely, either, considering the time of Chief Underwood’s arrival. “So if it wasn’t the intruder, who made the call?”

  “A father, brother or friend? Someone who did it secretly so the intruder wouldn’t know?”

  Keith didn’t respond. They’d reached the hostess station where a heavyset, middle-aged woman was gathering menus so she could lead them to a table. His mind was still on their conversation—until he saw Nancy sitting near the window with some guy in a suit. Given the size of Keys Crossing, he understood that he could run into her anywhere. But he hadn’t expected to see her here.

  He got the impression she’d actually spotted him first. She was digging into her small black purse in such a preoccupied way, it seemed contrived.

  He halted the hostess so he could greet Nancy in spite of that. He couldn’t help it. They’d once been close; it seemed ridiculous to ignore each other now.

  Besides, he was curious about her date.

  “Nancy! Great to see you again.”

  Sure enough, he detected no surprise in her expression when she looked up. She gave him a polite half smile. “Good to see you, too, Keith.”

  He glanced expectantly at her date, but she didn’t speak up so he introduced Harper. “You might know our chief of police.”

  “Of course. She’s been to the shop.” Nancy shifted her attention to Harper. “Thanks for all you do.”

  Harper acknowledged her gratitude with a nod. “You bet.”

  Nancy seemed perfectly willing to let them move on without mentioning her companion, s
o Keith turned to him. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around the island.”

  “I don’t live here.” Tom stood and offered his hand. “I’m Thomas Humphries, an attorney from Charleston.”

  “What kind of law do you practice?” Keith asked as they shook.

  “Personal injury.”

  “You must get involved in a lot of...intriguing cases.” Truth was Keith had zero interest in that, but he figured everyone was different.

  “I do. And business is booming.”

  Tom obviously took pride in his accomplishments. “There are a lot of people getting hurt in Charleston who have reason to sue?” Keith asked.

  He’d been joking, but Tom didn’t seem to catch on. Or maybe he had. There was a hint of defensiveness in his posture when he replied. “Probably no more than any other big city, but I’ve established a name in the business. I work mostly off referrals.”

  “Referrals are always nice,” Keith said. “Advertising can get expensive.” He didn’t mention ambulance-chasing and the other tactics some personal injury attorneys employed.

  “Yes.” Tom glanced uncertainly at Nancy, since she hadn’t provided Keith’s name or any point of reference. “And you are...”

  Once it became plain that she couldn’t avoid it, Nancy spoke up. “This is Keith Lazarow, Tom—my boss’s son.”

  Tom’s eyes widened. “The one who...” He stopped and finished with, “Whoa, I’m sorry about your mother. Losing a parent is always rough.”

  Keith could’ve pointed out that his connection with Nancy wasn’t nearly as loose as she’d implied. He could remember one night when they’d made love three or four times in an eight-hour period. But the way she’d clasped her hands tightly in front of her told him she preferred to end this encounter as soon as possible. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s not easy, but it happens to most of us.”

  “True.” Tom sat back down. “Still, you have my condolences.”

  Keith turned to Nancy. “You look beautiful in that dress.”

  “Thank you,” she muttered, but he could tell she immediately discarded the compliment as if it was meaningless coming from him.

  “Have a nice dinner,” he said.

  Tom responded with something equally banal and the hostess finished leading them to their table.

  “You used to date Nancy, didn’t you?” Harper asked after the hostess had provided them with menus and walked away.

  “For a few months. Why? Who told you that?”

  “I must’ve heard it around town somewhere. But it was also obvious by her body language just now.”

  “How?”

  “She was visibly uncomfortable.”

  “I didn’t notice,” he lied.

  As Harper started to open her menu, she paused to give him a skeptical look. “I’m guessing she’s not over you.”

  He opened his own menu. “Of course she’s over me. It’s been five years.”

  “Time isn’t always a deciding factor.” She perused her food choices. “Did you love her?” she asked, raising her head.

  “No. I wasn’t capable of loving anyone back then.” Maybe he still wasn’t. That was why he was trying so hard to stay away from her, why his sister demanded it. He’d hurt Nancy badly enough. He didn’t want to hurt her again.

  * * *

  Nancy couldn’t taste her food—and yet she’d ordered the Cajun blackened shrimp scampi, which was spicy. She no longer had an appetite, anyway. She wished she could ask Bobby to box up her dinner so she could get out of the restaurant and escape the attraction that kept drawing her gaze to Keith. The way the hostess had seated them, she and Keith were facing each other. Every time she glanced up, their eyes would meet. She’d pretend it was inadvertent, as if she hadn’t intended to look at him, but her face would heat, and she was afraid he could see that.

  “You seem sort of distracted tonight,” Tom complained after the waitress delivered their cherries jubilee.

  “I’m sorry. It’s...all the stress I’ve been under at work,” she said. But it was a lot more than that. Seeing Keith with the pretty chief of police made her nauseous, although she had to admit they were a magnificent-looking couple. Maybe Harper Underwood had what it took to hold him. Harper was a confident, bold, take-charge kind of person. She was also thinner than Nancy.

  “I brought you here so you could unwind,” Tom said.

  She could feel Keith’s eyes on her again but kept her gaze riveted on her own date. “I’m trying.”

  “It might’ve been better to stay in tonight.”

  “No. This has been great,” she lied.

  Covering her hand with his, Tom leaned close. “I’m glad. Should we go back to your place and watch a movie, then?”

  Under the guise of reaching for her drink, she slid her hand away. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  She fumbled around for an excuse. She could hardly say that the only man she’d ever loved was sitting across the restaurant, reminding her of what it felt like to really want someone. “I...need a good night’s sleep.”

  He scowled at her. “So I drove all the way to Fairham Island just to buy you dinner?”

  She could understand why he’d be put off and felt bad for disappointing him. That hadn’t been her intention. She’d just purchased some sexy lingerie, for crying out loud. If that didn’t indicate that she’d hoped for more, she wasn’t sure what would. They just hadn’t been able to establish any kind of rapport or chemistry. And maybe that was her fault, because her stubborn heart would not forget Keith.

  Either way, the confusion she’d been experiencing lately had cleared, leaving her with the sad realization that she couldn’t continue to see Tom. She wasn’t sexually attracted to him. She’d rather remain single for the rest of her life than try to make something out of nothing. “I’m sorry. This place is expensive. I’ll pay.”

  Bobby had slid the leather case containing the bill onto the table shortly after bringing their desserts. Nancy reached for it, but Tom grabbed it first.

  “No, I didn’t mean that. I understand if you’re a little out of sorts. Everyone gets that way once in a while. Why not let me come over and give you a backrub? I bet that’ll help.”

  His earlier comment went through her mind—Going out with me isn’t a promise to marry me or even sleep with me, although I wouldn’t mind that—and knew he’d been making himself sound more patient than he really was. She shook her head. “No, thanks. I think I’ll stop by my father’s house, check in on him since my sister went out tonight.”

  He put the bill holder back down. “What? He lives here, doesn’t he? You can see him anytime.”

  “True. But... I’m sorry, Tom. It’s just not going to work out between us.”

  “We talked about this on the phone. You haven’t given it a fair shot.”

  “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

  Shaking his head, as if he couldn’t believe she’d be so stupid as to turn away such a fine catch, he sighed. Then he made his reaction worse by adding, “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

  “You’re probably right,” she agreed. “You’re a great guy and...and no doubt you’ll make some other girl very happy.”

  He glared at her without responding. Then he let her pay the bill.

  * * *

  When Nancy and her date got up, Keith lifted his hand to wave, in case she glanced over. She didn’t, but he did get a better view of her in that dress. She looked stunning, whether she believed him or not.

  When Harper noticed his preoccupation, she twisted around to watch Nancy go. Then she said, “I take it your relationship with Nancy didn’t end well.”

  “Nothing I did five years ago ended well,” he said drily.

  “Whoa! Y
ou’re taking the blame?”

  He’d been in a terrible situation long enough that almost everyone else had given up on him. Nancy was the only one who’d been willing to listen, to try to help. She gave him a place of refuge, cooked for him, washed his clothes, lent him money and encouraged him to get off drugs. “Completely.”

  Harper held her wineglass loosely. “You’re more honest than I was expecting.”

  “That doesn’t say much for what you were expecting. Are you still concerned about my reputation?”

  She put down her wine and took a bite of her sole. “No. Just thankful that you’ve reformed.”

  He’d ordered crab legs. He held the seafood cracker in one hand as he responded. “Because...”

  She offered him a flirty smile. “Because if someone like Nancy can’t get over you, you must be more than just another pretty face.”

  “Nancy’s a nice person. I feel bad about...about how I behaved with her.” He was tempted to explain that he hadn’t hurt her intentionally, but he figured that was a moot point.

  “If there’s no magic in a relationship, there’s no magic. You can’t fake it.”

  He supposed that was true. He felt that way about Dahlia back in LA. But Nancy was different. He respected her. He cared about her, too—enough that he’d shown up at her door last night and felt a strange sort of envy when he’d seen her with another man tonight. Why? He rarely thought of any of his other old girlfriends. Was it simply that he hadn’t treated Nancy the way she deserved to be treated—and he regretted it? Or was it a desire to reconnect with the one person who was most comfortable and familiar to him while he was going through this difficult time?

  He chose not to answer those questions, preferred not to examine his feelings for Nancy too closely. “That’s true,” he told Harper. “There’s no forcing those things. So maybe we can talk about something else—like who might’ve killed my mother...”

  She gave him a look that said she found his reluctance to talk about Nancy sort of curious. But she didn’t push the issue. “Have we established that your mother’s been murdered?”