by LENA DIAZ,
“I think so, yes. But I didn’t realize it at the time. I thought— Well, I’m sorry, Amber, but I couldn’t figure out any other way, so I assumed you’d done it.”
She shrugged. “How could you not? Even my own aunt thought the same thing. Still does.”
“Yes, well, it was a few weeks later that I was unpacking the rest of those jars when I realized a shipment of peanuts had come in the same box and were sitting beneath a layer of tissue paper. I figured during the shipment some of the peanuts had shifted and gotten oil on the jars. But by then, Amber was gone and there was nothing I could do to help her.”
“You could have helped her yesterday, by going into town and telling the police what had happened.”
He nodded. “You’re right. But I was scared, and ashamed. It took me a bit of time to come to my senses. I wanted to tell her first, and I came out last night to do that very thing. But then you saw me and came after me and I ran.”
“It was you out by the shed?” Dex asked.
“Yes. Like I said, I lost my nerve, so I took off. But I’m here now to tell what I know. You can call the police and I’ll confess.”
Dex rolled his eyes. Confess? He’d never seen two innocent people more intent on confessing to their crimes before. “Confession is for guilty people, Mr. Johnson. You didn’t try to kill Mr. Callahan any more than Amber did. It was one big accident all around. I just have one more question before I call Deputy Holder. Why did you go into the house last night?”
Buddy’s brows lowered. “Go into the house? I didn’t. Why would you think that I did?”
Dex exchanged a look with Amber. “We heard something and thought someone was inside.”
Buddy shook his head. “I didn’t try to go inside. I had no reason to.”
“Okay,” Dex said. “Maybe there’s another explanation, like the house settling. I don’t know. I’ll call Holder. I just wish we had some kind of proof to make the case stronger to help Amber.”
“Oh, I have proof. Right here.” Buddy took an envelope from the pocket of his shirt and handed it to Amber.
She opened it and pulled out two pictures. Dex got up and squatted down in front of the couch, looking at the pictures with her. They showed a box of bottles with tissue paper beneath them but flipped up at one corner to show a bag of peanuts that had a rip in it, with the peanuts all over the bottom of the box.
“That’s your proof?” Dex said. “You could have taken that picture today.”
“Nope. Look at the bottom right corner, the label on the box.”
Amber raised the picture higher as she and Dex tried to read the date. “It’s from the week when Granddaddy died,” Amber said.
“It sure is. With my store’s name on it. And the peanuts, you can tell, are fresh. The picture is legit.”
“Okay, then, what about proof that Amber actually bought some of those bottles at your store that day?” Dex asked.
“I keep records of all of that in my logbooks. I can get them.”
“No, don’t bother. We’ll wait until Holder gets here and then he can get them. That will be better. Speaking of which, I’ll call him now.”
He left Amber and Buddy holding hands and whispering to each other like long-lost friends as he stepped into one of the rooms without windows in the middle of the mazelike house just far enough away so no one could hear him. He explained to Holder exactly what he’d just been told.
“Interesting,” Holder said. “That certainly makes it plausible that there was no intent to harm. And, combined with what the coroner found, I’m sure Miss Callahan is going to be quite pleased.”
“What did the coroner find?”
“Mr. Callahan didn’t die from an allergic reaction.”
Dex’s hand tightened around the phone. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. There was peanut oil in that tonic, but only faint traces, probably enough to corroborate the story that the glass was packed in a box with peanuts as opposed to someone trying to add enough oil to kill him. But when the coroner performed some tests, at your lawyer’s insistence, she determined the ingredients in the tonic would have rendered any allergic types of reactions irrelevant because the tonic was a natural antihistamine. It would have counteracted anything to do with the peanut allergy even if it were triggered. Mr. Callahan’s death is now being labeled as ‘natural causes.’”
“Heart attack?”
“Respiratory. The cancer weakened his lungs and the flu was the final straw. He just couldn’t take it. As of right this minute, all the charges against Amber Callahan are dropped.”
Chapter Ten
Amber stood on the back porch, watching the play of lightning across the dark afternoon sky. Heavy rain clouds warned of another storm that would break across the Glades and probably turn the small water inlets into fast-flowing rivers for the next few days.
Dex stood beside her but, instead of watching the sky, he was watching her. “You should be happy,” he said.
“I am. I guess. It’s just so...surprising. Sudden.”
“Sudden? You lived in exile for two years.”
“I know. That’s not what I mean. One day I know who I am and what I’m doing and less than a week later a plane drops out of the sky.” She turned to face him. “And everything changed. Now I have a life again, a future. And I have you to thank for that.” She entwined her arms around his neck and stepped into the cocoon of his arms.
He hugged her tight and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I still don’t understand. Why did you try to cover for Buddy?”
She tightened her arms around him. “You won’t understand, even if I explain it.”
“Try me.”
She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. “All my life, the only person who ever cared about me—in my family, at least—was my grandfather. And my friend Faye, of course. But my grandfather was the one who was always there for me no matter what. From the time I was little until the day he died. He did everything for me. He basically saved me by bribing my self-centered parents to move away and leave me with him. He gave me security, love, financial stability, and he only asked one thing in return—that I take care of his friend, Buddy.”
“What do you mean? Buddy’s a grown man. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him.”
She pulled back and looked at him. “Buddy doesn’t need money—he’s got plenty of his own because of some kind of swamp buggy invention. Grandpa just wanted me to always make sure Buddy was okay even after Grandpa was gone. So when he died, and I realized that Buddy may have been responsible—purely by accident—I couldn’t risk him going to jail.”
“So you decided to allow the blame to fall on you. That’s crazy.”
She stiffened and pushed him, but his arms tightened and he didn’t let her go.
“I didn’t say you were crazy, just that the decision you made was crazy. I can’t imagine your grandfather wanting you to sacrifice your future just to keep his best friend from going to jail.”
“That’s because you didn’t know my father,” a voice said from the yard. “He was cold and mean, even to those he supposedly loved.”
Dex and Amber turned to see Freddie Callahan standing at the bottom of the stairs, in pretty much the same place that Buddy had been standing earlier in the day.
“What is it with you people sneaking up on us all the time?” Dex grumbled.
“What do you want?” Amber said, not sounding particularly welcoming, and Dex couldn’t blame her for that. Freddie had never been supportive of Amber and had just insulted the man that Amber held up as her hero.
Freddie held out her hands in a plaintive gesture. “I came to apologize. Amber, I know I always assumed you had something to do with my father’s death. But you can’t exactly blame me since you ran th
e way you did. Now that Buddy has explained to everyone what really happened, I’m here to, well, like I said— apologize. I’m sorry that I couldn’t support you more. Without knowing the truth, I couldn’t. Even though I didn’t even like him, he was still my father. And I owed him more loyalty than to welcome back the niece who’d played a role in his death.” She held her hands out as if to hug Amber. “But I’d like to welcome you back now. If you’ll let me.”
Amber leaned into Dex’s side. “I don’t know that I’m ready for hugs, but if you want to visit, to get to know me better, I’d welcome you into the house.” She looked up at the ominous sky. “You might want to hurry before the storm opens up, too.”
Freddie looked up at the sky. “You’ve got that right. This is going to be one for the record books. I can feel it in my bones.” She hurried up the steps and Amber led her into the kitchen, with Dex following close behind.
No sooner had they gotten inside than the rain began pouring down so heavily the trees in the backyard were nearly hidden from view.
“Wow,” Freddie said. “Good thing I rolled up my windows before parking out front. I rang that doorbell a bunch of times, but you must not have heard it since you were out back.”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. They all hurried through the maze of rooms toward the front of the house. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Buddy Johnson standing on the porch, along with a young woman of eighteen or nineteen that she didn’t recognize.
“Buddy? What can I do for you?”
He motioned to the young brunette beside him. “This is Amy. She works part-time at The Moon and Star and has been covering while Faye and Jake are on their honeymoon. We thought it might be nice to bring you dinner to welcome you back. I hope you don’t mind. We thought it would be fun to surprise you.”
She stood in the opening, not sure what to do. Yes, she’d taken the blame for her grandfather’s death to protect Buddy. But it still stung that no one had questioned her guilt. No one but a stranger named Dex Lassiter.
He chose that moment to put his arm around her shoulder and pull her against his side. “Amber,” he whispered, low, “unless you have an ark to put them in to send them back to town I think you might need to step back and let them in.”
She sighed and moved aside.
Dex leaned down toward her. “Very nice of you to welcome them,” he whispered. “And from the looks of the storm, they might end up being overnight guests.”
“Wonderful,” she grumbled.
They were about to step back and close the door when a set of headlights appeared from the dark monsoon and inched its way past the other cars to the far end of the porch, where another set of steps angled down from another opening in the railing.
“I don’t think I know anyone who arrives in limousines,” Amber said. “Must be someone you know.”
“Probably Garreth, our attorney.”
She smiled at the way he’d said “our” and headed with him down the long porch to where the car had parked. The lights turned off as the driver cut the engine. Then he hopped out in the rain, opened an enormous black umbrella and hurried to the far side to open the door. Three men and a woman scrambled out of the car and hurried up the porch, followed by the driver carrying small bags as if the people planned on staying for a while.
Dex cursed and stopped when he and Amber were still halfway to where the others were. She glanced at him curiously and stopped as well to wait for their newest arrivals to reach them.
“Who are they?” she asked, raising her voice so he could hear her over the rain.
He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “No matter what, remember what happened between us last night. And what I told you. I care about you, Amber. And I would never cheat on you or anyone else.”
She frowned in confusion. What had happened was that they’d made love most of the night. Her face flushed hot at the memory. What did that have to do with these new arrivals? Or anything that he may have told her in the dark? Or...cheating?
He dropped his hands and faced the group as they stopped in front of them.
“Garreth.” He shook hands with his attorney. He shook the driver’s hand before pulling Amber against his side in a show of affection that had her staring intently at the remaining two men and woman standing there and wondering just what kind of bombshell was about to be dropped on her.
“Mitchell Fielding, Derek Slater.” Dex presented the men to Amber. “This is Amber Callahan, owner of this house. And I’m sure that Garreth must have told you she’s the one who saved me after the crash.”
Amber looked up at Dex expectantly.
“Mitchell is my assistant at Lassiter Enterprises. And Derek is a board member.”
“And his wingman.” Derek winked at Amber.
“Ah, I see.” She really didn’t and didn’t appreciate the wink, either. But she shook their hands anyway.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Dex?” The woman beside Mitchell flipped her long, blond hair over her shoulder to hang in a perfect straight sheet cut to razor-sharp precision in the middle of her back. The black dress she wore revealed far more cleavage and leg than Amber had ever dared to bare and had Amber feeling like a worn-out old shoe in comparison. This woman was the epitome of class and chic style, like one of those fancy models on a magazine. She latched on to Dex’s arm as if she owned it and rubbed up against him like a well-fed cat, her too-blue-to-be-real eyes narrowing at Amber.
Since Dex seemed to be searching for words, Amber held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Amber Callahan. And you are?”
The woman shook Amber’s hand in a noodle-like grip before snatching her hand back and rubbing it on Dex’s shirt. “Didn’t Dex tell you, darling? I’m Mallory Rothschild. His fiancée.”
* * *
DEX SIPPED HIS whiskey and Coke and glared out of bleary eyes at Amber on the other side of the massive room that she’d called the great room. The only thing great thing about it was that it was huge and could accommodate the crazy mixture of Mystic Glades residents plus his own associates—nine people in all, including him and Amber. She, Freddie and Amy had spent the past hour getting everyone drinks and snacks. Dex had never seen anyone more intent on being a gracious hostess than Amber was at this minute. And since he already knew she wasn’t keen on any of these people being here, he knew she was doing it for one reason and one reason only—to avoid talking to him.
Which was why he was on his third whiskey.
“More, darling?” Mallory purred in her chair beside him. She held up the decanter.
He slapped his hand over his glass, more to be obstinate than anything else. “Don’t you have somewhere else you need to go? Like back to Naples to catch a plane?”
She set the decanter down on the silver tray and ran her finger across its discolored surface, her perfect nose wrinkling in distaste. “You know we’re all stuck here because of this storm. You might as well stop being so stubborn and just accept that we’re here for the duration. Everyone over there—” she waved airily toward the other side of the room where Buddy, Freddie and the other Mystic Glades people were sitting “—said there’s no way to make it back into town in a storm this bad. The road is bound to be washed out.”
“I’m sure Amber probably has a canoe around here somewhere. You’re welcome to use it.”
She patted his arm. “Stop trying to be funny. It’s not working.”
He grabbed his glass and downed the last of his drink. “Garreth, I can understand you bringing Mitchell and Derek to go over business matters if there are decisions I need to make. But why exactly did you feel it was a good idea to bring my ex-fiancée?”
Garreth cleared his throat. “Perhaps you can ask Mitchell about that. He’s the one who brought her with him to the airport in Saint Augustine.”
�
�Okay. Mitchell. Spill.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” Mallory said. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not here. Mitchell hasn’t severed ties with me like some people around here. And when he heard about the crash he told me about it. Naturally I was worried and wanted to see for myself that you were okay. Is that really so hard to understand? After all, we meant something to each other once. Didn’t we?”
The naked pain in her voice had guilt squeezing Dex’s chest and made him feel like a heel. He’d never loved her, and she’d never loved him. That wasn’t a secret. They’d just latched on to each other for convenience, because talking was easy and they were both getting older. It wasn’t until it was time to set the date and make real wedding plans that he’d realized he just couldn’t do it and had broken it off. She’d agreed easily enough, almost seeming relieved. Or so he’d thought. Had he been wrong? It had never occurred to him that she might really care about him beyond being a really good friend. But it should have.
“I’m sorry, Mal. For everything.”
Her eyes widened as if in surprise before she nodded and turned away. But not before Dex saw the moisture in her eyes. Wonderful. Now he felt like an even greater jerk than he had a moment earlier. When had everything become so screwed up?
His gaze caught Garreth’s, who winced and took a sip of his drink—water. Come to think of it, Dex didn’t think he’d ever seen his lawyer drink alcohol, but he’d never really thought about it until now.
“Speaking of being concerned about you,” Mitchell said as he leaned forward to be seen from Garreth’s left. “Veronica Walker stopped at the office asking about you as we were packing our briefcases for the trip out here. She’d heard about the crash on the news and demanded to know if you were okay.”
Dex blinked in surprise. “Ronnie asked about me? I find that hard to believe, unless she wanted to come out here with you to make sure I never came back.”
Mallory was suddenly just as interested in Mitchell’s response as Dex was.