Unlocking the back door, Paul carried the first box into the pantry. As he put the carton on the counter, he heard a faint noise. In seconds his gun was drawn, and he was inching toward the doorway, his back flattened against the wall. Peering around the doorjamb, he scanned the kitchen. It appeared to be empty, but he wasn't trained to take chances.
He crept through the darkened kitchen. Aside from the afternoon's disarray, nothing seemed out of order. Reaching the end of the kitchen area, Paul wondered if he'd imagined the sound. But the raised hair on his arms and his quickened pulse told him his instincts were correct. To his left were the storage areas; the prep room was to his right. Straight ahead at the end of the hall was the office.
He heard the sound again, more distinctly this time, and it was coming from the office. He wondered if the Falgettis were booby-trapping the building. Edging silently down the hallway, he detected movement and ducked into the rest room. Carefully he peered around the door frame and noticed light coming from the office. What he saw next made him freeze.
* * *
Chapter 22
«^»
Katherine paced the kitchen, her mug of cocoa forgotten. "There's no mistake about what you saw?"
Paul shook his head. "It was Rod Dennison. And he helped himself to a considerable wad of cash."
"He doesn't know you saw him?"
"No. The catering company is yours, so I figured this one was your call. Once I was sure the Falgettis were nowhere in sight, I decided to watch for a while. It wasn't difficult." Paul shook his head in remembered disbelief. "Rod took his time. And it wasn't because he didn't know where to look. He had the cash envelope on the desk the entire time. It was amazing – he wasn't worried at all about being caught. Instead, he was digging through other files. Hell, he was so sure of himself he had the light on."
Katherine sighed as she glanced out the window. "This couldn't have happened at a worse time."
"How so?"
"Jessica thinks she needs Rod. The thing with John knocked out the last of her confidence." Katherine laughed humorlessly. "She said she doesn't have a man like you to count on who loves her." In the sudden silence their gazes locked across the room.
Katherine felt the thrum of her quickening pulse. Love between them hadn't been mentioned since that horrendous day she'd learned the truth. Anger and the pain of betrayal had refused to let her believe his words.
Now the echo of his words hung in her mind, shimmering between them.
He took a step toward her. "Katherine—"
"No. Don't say it." She felt the press of tears, the agony of conflicting emotions. "I can't bear it."
His eyes searched hers, growing bleaker as they registered defeat and regret.
Katherine turned away, unable to face him. With great effort she steadied her voice. "I don't want to tell Jessica about Rod."
"She'll know when you fire him."
"I don't intend to fire him," Katherine replied quietly.
"What?" Paul exclaimed in disbelief. "Why not?"
Katherine turned to face him again. "Jessica's been hurt enough – through no fault of her own. I'm not going to add to her pain."
The implication of her own hurt, though unspoken, was clear.
"You're going to ignore Rod's theft? Allow him to continue unchecked?"
"Unless he bankrupts us, yes. I'm hoping he'll hang himself if we keep the cash out of his reach. But I'm not going to allow the loss of a few dollars to hurt Jessica." Her gaze hardened. "Although I'm not sure I'm doing her a favor. She doesn't need a man who lies to her."
Paul stared at her, a flash of hurt appearing, then quickly disappearing, in his eyes. "You're forgetting one thing. There were no signs of a break-in. Somehow Rod has gotten a key. That makes all the company records vulnerable."
"People versus profit?" Katherine asked. "For me there's no debate."
Paul's frustration was almost tangible. "He's been stealing from you practically since he began working for you. I'm sure his thefts account for the missing money."
"Are you angry at him for stealing?" Sadness rimmed her eyes and coated her words. "Or at yourself because you believed I was responsible?"
The silence was deafening as Katherine left the kitchen, the creak of the swinging door its only relief.
* * *
Breaking waves rolled endlessly in from the sea, each one punctuating Paul's thoughts. Ignoring the discreetly shadowing agents, he walked along the beach.
He preferred the shore at night. No distractions, no pretense. The earth, sky and sea connected in a way that seemed both personal and immediate. It was a thought he had shared only with Matthew. Until meeting Katherine, he had never imagined sharing that sort of thought with anyone else. Now that, too, was ruined.
Was she right about his fury at Rod? Had he grown so angry because be had blamed Katherine for Rod's crimes? He had been so focused on black-and-white proof. What had Katherine said about the color of love? That it was neither black nor white, not even gray.
Paul had glimpsed that burst of colors she'd described, yet he'd still questioned. Doubted. Remorse over Matthew had led him to disregard his instincts and the pain he would ultimately cause Katherine. Now he carried twice the guilt.
As he walked, Paul thought, too, of Dustin, the promise he had made the little boy to not go away again. The boy would also be hurt, not understanding why Paul had to disappoint him.
Moonlight illuminated his path, teasing bits of driftwood into mystical shapes. Spotting one that resembled a winking bear, he smiled, thinking how Katherine would enjoy the image.
Loneliness struck, a stab that had him looking toward the black wall where sea and sky met. He understood how the water beckoned to the lonely, offered escape from the pain.
His gaze drifted toward the pier, the lights that relieved the utter darkness. Life and light – both held promise. He just had to find a way to make Katherine believe him.
* * *
"That's beautiful," Jessica exclaimed.
Katherine paused as she put the last touches on the wedding cake. "It is a pretty one, isn't it? After a zillion of them you'd think I'd quit getting so sentimental."
"A diehard romantic like you?" Jessica scoffed. "I don't think that'll ever happen."
Katherine picked up another of the fresh flowers she was using to decorate the cake. "And you're not? This brings to mind something about glass houses…"
Jessica laughed. "Maybe. But I can think of worse labels."
"I suppose," Katherine murmured, wondering if they were both colossal fools. Love hadn't treated either of them kindly.
"It's sure quiet in here," Jessica observed as she snitched a bite of Belgian chocolate.
Katherine picked up a cluster of frosted champagne grapes and arranged them with the flowers. "We had a wedding breakfast this morning, so everyone got here early and left early."
"Nothing planned for tonight?" Jessica asked casually.
Katherine felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach, guessing the nature of her friend's inquiry. "Nope. Thankfully we have a night off." She gave the cake a half turn. "I only have to deliver this beauty. We're not catering the reception."
"Oh, then I guess Rod won't be by," Jessica said, not completely concealing her disappointment.
Katherine's stomach sank farther. "I wouldn't think so. He doesn't come here. He usually meets us at the function."
Jessica's brows drew together, her eyes looking puzzled. "That's funny."
Katherine clipped one of the rose stems so that the blossom lay properly against the icing. "What?"
"Nothing really. Just that Rod borrowed my key to the building once so he could come in early. Must have been something special that day."
Katherine's hands stilled. She had given a key to Jessica when the building had been built, so that she would always have a spare in a safe place. That explained how Rod was able to get into the building at will – no doubt he'd made a copy. She would have to change
the locks. Glancing up, she saw that Jessica was waiting for a reply. "Right, I guess so."
"I wanted to see you, as well," Jessica said. "Rod isn't my only interest."
Katherine smiled, trying to disguise her feelings. "Have you seen much of him lately?"
Jessica shook her head. "Not really. I thought maybe he'd been working a lot of extra time for you."
Debating, Katherine finally shook her head. While she didn't want to see Jessica hurt, she also didn't want to provide excuses for the man. Perhaps Rod would hang himself with his behavior. "No. Not any more than usual." She wanted to say more, a lot more, but she restrained herself. It wasn't her place to give Jessica advice on her love life. With her own track record, it was clear she was no expert on men.
Jessica glanced out the window. "Are those agents in that car, or am I getting paranoid?"
"They're agents, all right."
Jessica glanced toward the office. "Oh, is Elliott here?"
Katherine shook her head. "No, but they keep an agent at the house and the business whenever one of us is here. I guess they don't want to take any chances."
"Seems funny, doesn't it?" Jessica mused. "It's like something out of a movie. Most of the time it doesn't even seem real."
Katherine bent her head, trying to hide the stinging in her eyes.
"Oh, Katie, I'm sorry!" Jessica jumped off the stool she'd been perched on and rushed over to hug Katherine. "How could I be so insensitive?"
"It's not you," Katherine managed, swiping at the tears that had escaped. "It's just … everything."
Jessica looked at her in concern. "That says it all, doesn't it?"
Katherine sniffled and reached for a tissue. "I'm not even sure who the tears are for today. When I think about Matthew, I grieve mostly because it was such a stupid senseless loss. He deserved so much more. He deserved a long life filled with laughter. As for Paul…"
"You're grieving because you love him," Jessica surmised wisely. "And you feel guilty because you do. It doesn't seem right since Matthew's dead and Paul wasn't up front with you."
"Up front!" Katherine snorted. "I had to hear the truth from the CIA."
"I know, Katie, but think of how difficult all this must be for him. He knew from day one that in all likelihood his twin brother was dead. He probably even suspected that Matthew died in his place. Yet he had to act normal for you and Dustin. At the same time he had to determine if any of the players in Matthew's life had a motive for killing him."
"Like money," Katherine agreed bitterly.
Jessica's voice was gentle. "He didn't know you then, Katie. His loyalty was with his brother. He had to learn the truth. That took time."
"It's too bad he didn't feel he could share that truth with me," Katherine lamented.
"I imagine he's feeling that way, too." Jessica patted Katherine's hand. "Look at it from his perspective. He's lost everything now – his brother, you and Dustin. I don't imagine that's what he wanted, either."
Katherine felt the sadness that mingled inextricably with her bitterness. "But that's what's happened, hasn't it?"
* * *
The Temp-Agency recruiter glanced at the application in her hands. "I see you have a degree in culinary arts." She raised puzzled speculative eyes. "I'm not certain why you're interested in a serving position with your qualifications."
The dark-haired man smiled winningly. "It's not always easy to turn a degree into a job."
"Without experience," the recruiter added sympathetically. "Unfortunately that's true."
"Which is why I'm here," the man explained, his thin-lipped smile still in place.
"Have you considered an internship?" the recruiter asked. "Many of the big hotels offer programs.
"Yes," he replied. "But they're not as readily available as serving positions."
She studied the application. "I hate to see anyone underutilize their qualifications."
"The truth is I need money now, not way down the road."
The recruiter nodded. "Ah, that I understand well." She smiled again. "It's the cornerstone of our business. You probably know we pay every Friday." She turned toward her keyboard. "Let me see what we have available. The Greenery Nest is looking for fine-dining servers, and the Planter has an order in for casual-dining and banquet servers."
"I understand that Combined Catering is looking for some temp servers," the man suggested.
Turning away from her computer screen, the woman frowned. "We don't typically allow our temps to choose which client they work for."
His smile became even more winning. "Actually I have an ulterior motive."
Her brows drew together suspiciously. "Which is?"
"I'm hoping that if they see what a good worker I am, maybe they'll give me a cooking position. It's a small outfit, which could mean rapid advancement. It's the kind of place I want to see in my future."
"Of course, if they hired you on full-time, they would have to pay us a finder's fee," she mused, the line between her brows disappearing as she thought of the tidy commission on that fee.
"So we both win," the man encouraged, his pale eyes lighting with victory.
She turned back to her computer screen, rapidly typing. "You're right. Combined Catering does have an order for this weekend, and we hadn't completely filled it yet." She shared a conspiratorial smile with him. "But now we have."
* * *
Chapter 23
«^»
The Newsmans' anniversary party had been only a dry run compared to tonight's elaborate function. Rodax, a huge computer conglomerate, had booked the event to honor their star employees. The expected guest list was triple in size, the menu more complex, the setup and service more complicated.
The party had taken over the entire first floor of the Commodore Plantation. It was a huge home that had been converted to a hotel. Even though it was much larger than the Rose Plantation, it wasn't Katherine's favorite. The rooms were so strung out it made serving a nightmare, and consequently it was difficult to maintain control of the event. But in Katherine's opinion, its primary drawback was the lack of intimacy.
Unlike the Rose Plantation, which lent itself to romance, the Commodore seemed far too commercial. In a bid to compete, the plantation had sacrificed its sense of Southern grace and charm Katherine thought it was a terrible loss.
Although they had hired several more temps, Katherine and Paul were both needed tonight. It was difficult enough to share an uneasy household. Trying to pretend they were harmonious in front of the employees took the tension to breaking point. They had no choice, however, until Matthew's killers were apprehended.
Katherine's gaze skipped over the crowd, resting momentarily on Rod. She still hadn't found a way to deal with him, but given all the stress in her life, she couldn't handle another confrontation. When the truth about him came out, she would need to be able to focus on Jessica without distraction. Since her every waking thought now centered on Paul, Katherine knew the timing was bad. Still it stuck in her craw that she was, in a sense, paying the man to steal from her.
It had been difficult to pull the evening's function together. They weren't really staffed to accommodate something this big, but the booking had been accepted before Katherine had learned who Paul really was. At that time everything had appeared golden. The increased business had seemed like a positive step in her and Elliott's future, another building block to greater success.
Katherine felt the familiar stab of pain. That had been when she'd thought Paul was Elliott, when Combined Catering had truly been a joint venture. Although Paul had signed the business back over to her, she still felt distanced from it.
Everything seemed to be shifting – values, relationships, the very substance of her life. Sometimes it was difficult even to grasp. She still woke most mornings with a sense of hope. For a few moments everything would seem normal. But that was before she remembered what had happened, before the pain hit, along with the familiar sinking in the pit of her stomach. And
inevitably she would reach across the yawning emptiness in her bed, then chastise herself for the yearning.
Briefly she closed her eyes and asked herself yet again how that could be. How could she still want him?
Forcing herself back to the present, Katherine opened her eyes and walked toward the dessert table. It was early enough in the evening for that station to still be well stocked, but she wanted to be certain. The sweet tooth could be stronger than the sensible desire for nutrients. She felt a ghost of a smile. That was what had led her to being a pastry chef, her own wicked sweet tooth.
"It's good to see you smile," Paul said as he approached.
She didn't meet his eyes. "Just thinking about the strange powers of sugar."
"For whatever reason it's a welcome sight," he replied quietly.
The ache in her heart increased. How could people who had shared such grand passion now behave like polite strangers? Yet what else were they? Unable to speak over the growing lump in her throat, Katherine nodded.
Paul glanced away, as well, no doubt equally uncomfortable. "We seem to have an awful lot of temps."
"Yes," she managed. "It's more than we've ever hired before."
Paul frowned. "Do we know any of them?"
She shrugged. "Not really. They're temps. Why?"
"I'm not comfortable using so many strangers."
Katherine gazed around the crowded room. "We're surrounded by strangers. I certainly don't know all these people."
But Paul was still frowning. "The guests have a legitimate reason for being here."
"So do the temps." She wondered why he was belaboring the point.
"But don't you usually use the same temps?"
"Usually," she said. "When they're available. The agency knows the servers and kitchen helpers we've liked."
"Hmm." Paul looked at the buffet line. "Maybe I'm being too careful. But the last big event spooked me."
Instantly Katherine remembered the crashing chandelier. "You think something will happen here?"
His gaze met hers. "Not necessarily, but I can't shake the feeling that Rod was looking for something else in the office besides the cash."
THE WRONG BROTHER Page 18