“Dean’s not going to have a choice. Needless to say, don’t wait up.”
“I never do,” she said, shooting him a weary grin. She drew in a deep breath, facing the entrance, and gave the butler a brave nod that signaled he could open the door.
The reporters began shouting. There were so many of them that all the voices and questions bled into a nonsensical drone of noise. She pressed through the crowd, batting away their microphone buds as soon as they shoved them in her face. She jumped inside her truck as soon as she reached it.
Backing out was a real challenge. The last thing Kate wanted to do was kill a reporter or two and get stuck here for another two hours. But soon she was driving off, watching reporters in her side-view mirrors chase after her on foot until they gave up. Just as she turned onto the road, she flicked her gaze at the rearview mirror and saw the most tenacious reporter of all, the blonde from the national news network. She could never remember her name, probably because she had never bothered to learn it. The woman keeled over and began gasping for air. Kate didn’t want to hand it to the woman, but she had definitely run harder than the rest.
As great as the wind felt on her hot skin, Kate had rolled down all the windows in her truck to get as much air as possible. She couldn’t stand the fact that she had lied to Scott. She tried to tell herself that simply omitting what she knew didn’t necessarily make it a lie, but she knew better. She hated secrets. She hated telling them and she hated sensing others were holding out on her. It was as though Jason’s omissions had rubbed off on her. Her son kept things from her and put pressure on her to do the same, and she had. How could she not? This was her son. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him, and yet this had been an extremely tall order. Kate already felt like it was eating her alive, and it had only been a few hours.
To try to clear her mind, she considered how she might use her day. She still had the equipment she had rented from Grayson’s to install a window in Jared’s new office at the mayor’s—Christ, that was another ironic piece to the twisted puzzle. Dean’s name had come up in association with the drug lords who had infiltrated Rock Ridge several times. First at Drake’s Firing Line, which Donna Kramer had contracted. But worse, Dean had been involved with Donna romantically. His own stepson, Bradley, had said as much. Why would Dean get involved with a kingpin? Donna hadn’t been that beautiful, had she? Had Dean been blinded by her beauty and looked past her evil?
Honest to God, Kate didn’t know what to make of it, especially since he had a lovely relationship with his wife, Jessica, or so Kate had thought. She didn’t know what disgusted her more—that Dean was using his position as mayor to further corruption in Rock Ridge or that he had cheated on his wife. If Kate were being real with herself, and she would like to think she was, she had to admit the latter bothered her more. Secrets were the cancer of love.
She cringed.
She had done just that with Scott. She had kept a secret.
Kate sighed with relief when she reached Grayson’s, pulling into the parking lot and cutting off any opportunity to analyze the finer details of all that was clearly driving her crazy. She slowed to a crawl and pulled her truck around the side of the building where it would be easiest for Larry to help unload the equipment she had rented.
When she came to a stop, she leaned on the horn. The clock on the dash read 11:48 a.m., which meant that Larry would be inside. He tended to take his lunch break later in the afternoon. A minute of silence passed and he hadn’t come out. She sucked in a deep breath and climbed out of her truck. The side-entrance door was ajar, so she slipped inside and made her way through the storage garage and into the store. As soon as she came into the bathroom aisle, she heard Larry chuckling and then a woman’s voice. That would explain why he hadn’t come running. His wife had dropped in.
Sure enough, Kate found Carly leaning over the counter, and Larry on the other side giving his wife a flirtatious smile. She stilled, taking in the sight of them. It was hard to believe that three years ago Larry had been angling to get a date with Kate. Back then, Kate had been consumed in the agonizing mystery of her husband’s disappearance and couldn’t imagine dating anyone. The fact of the matter, however, was that even if she had been ready to consider another man, Larry simply wouldn’t have been him. In so many ways, Scott had always been the man for her, and though she tried not to think of her years with Greg as lost time—her first husband had given her twin boys whom she loved dearly—deep down Kate knew Scott had always been the one. They had met in high school and fell in love. Everything about him had intrigued her, and when he had asked her to go out for milkshakes and a drive-in movie, Kate had been elated. The feeling never left her during their four years of high school together. And in a lot of ways, it never left her at all, even throughout her years of being married to Greg. When her husband went missing, Scott surged to the forefront of her mind, not because she was attempting a haughty escape of her shattered life, but because Scott represented comfort.
She had him. The man of her dreams. The man she was destined to be with.
And she had lied to his face.
A terrible burden was weighing down on her chest, and Kate wasn’t sure what she would be able to do about it. She loved Jason far too much.
Why was life asking her to choose between her husband and her son? Hadn’t she gone through enough already?
Carly jarred her from her reverie, asking with a smile, “Surprise, surprise, what are you doing here?”
“Returning some equipment,” she said, smiling, as well, but not for the same reason. It was just so nice to see them happy together. “If you have a minute?”
“Sure,” said Larry, rounding the counter and meeting her where she stood. “You parked out front or out the side?”
“The side,” she said, following after him, but Larry turned on his heel.
“No worries,” he said easily. He was certainly in a good mood, and Kate remembered the vow renewal and honeymoon that Carly had mentioned. “I got it. You just hang out. Oh, we got a coffeemaker, if you didn’t know.”
“Yeah?”
His brows shot up in confirmation and he shot her a smile. “Did, indeed.”
“I’ll make you a cup,” Carly offered. “So long as you tell me just who in the hell that woman was and why in the hell she stole you away from our breakfast date.”
If anything, Kate had been hoping to avoid the subject, so she decided to find a number of things interesting about the new coffeemaker behind the counter, noting out loud the make and model and asking about the flavor of coffee grounds, if they were organic and fair trade.
“You’re deflecting,” Carly pointed out in a stern, maternal tone. “Tell me what’s up. I have a sixth sense for these things.”
Kate came out with it the quickest way she knew how in hopes they could get past the topic and talk about lighter subjects, like the location of Carly and Larry’s second honeymoon and what the cocktails might taste like. “Donna Kramer. She was the amusement park executive who bought Meredith Joste’s house.”
“Okay,” said Carly, setting a mug of freshly brewed dark roast on the counter for Kate. Larry had gotten one of those Nespresso one-cup machines and already the brew smelled amazing. “What does that have to do with that woman?”
“You really can’t say anything,” said Kate. “You know how bad the reporters have gotten.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“Long story short, all those convicts getting out of prison have filtered into a drug ring.”
“Here in Rock Ridge?” she asked, astonished, but not so much so that she couldn’t get the Nespresso to percolate a second cup of coffee.
“The woman was Gillian O’Reilly, an ex-con who didn’t want to get roped into the drug trade, except that the drug ring got her out of prison early.”
“That’s what you’re calling them?” she asked, alarmed. “The drug ring? They don’t have names?”
“As of yet they don’t. Gillian
was supposed to do something, and I went instead. Turns out Donna Kramer was the one who killed Tommy.”
Carly gasped as though this was the juiciest gossip she had heard in ages.
“Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, Carly. I mean it.”
“I won’t,” she said innocently.
“So that’s what happened. And Donna got shot.”
Carly gaped at her, and it looked comical to Kate.
“You’ll read about it in the paper,” she assured her. “I won’t say another word.”
Kate lifted the mug to her lips and sipped. After swallowing, the flavors hit her and she almost died, it was so good. “Oh, you better watch out,” she said. “I’ll be swinging by Grayson’s every morning instead of Bean There. This is too delicious.”
Carly laughed. “Damn right. And Larry’s customers love him. He’s increased his sales in the past two days, alone, just based on customers coming in, having a cup, and feeling so guilty about not buying that they end up stocking up on every supply imaginable.”
“I can see that happening to me,” she agreed.
Abruptly, Carly got back on topic in such a way that knocked the wind right out of Kate. “So this ties into Dark Donnie.”
Kate nearly choked on her coffee. “You heard about Dark Donnie?” Kate had only heard the street name hours ago when Jason had mentioned him.
“Come on, Kate,” she said, cocking her eyebrow up. “Rumors fly faster than viral gifs in Rock Ridge. I would’ve mentioned the alias at our breakfast date if you hadn’t run off.”
“What do you know about him?” she asked eagerly. “What have you heard?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “And it’s all rumor and hearsay, but I’m under the impression he’s good with firearms. I heard he’s a regular at Drake’s Firing Line.”
She considered the angle, drinking her coffee. Drake had been the one to implicate Dean Wentworth in the incident of purchased gunpowder used to blow up the amusement park site. But, in fact, Tommy Barkow had been the buyer. Maybe Drake had been covering for Dark Donnie.
“Any connection to Becky’s disappearance?” Kate asked, trying not to sound too eager.
Carly sighed and her big eyes grew even rounder. She pressed her mouth into a sympathetic line. “Becky’s been gone for weeks. Has there been any contact since the explosion?”
Kate knew what her best friend was getting at—that there was no hope of Becky coming home. No one felt guiltier about this possibility than Kate. Ordinarily, Kate would’ve been tenacious, stopping at nothing to find the kidnapper and return Becky home, safe and sound, restore the relationship she shared with Jason, be one big happy family again. But a number of murders had transpired since her son’s fiancée went missing, each seeming more pressing than the last. Kate wouldn’t go so far as to say she had dropped the ball, but she wasn’t sure there was a ball anymore. The trail had gone cold. And since the kidnapper hadn’t reached out to the Langleys or made any contact whatsoever, she was entirely at a loss. What could she do?
“If all this drug stuff is connected,” Carly went on, supplying her with the answer she most needed to hear, “then surely it will all lead back to Becky. All I know is that Dark Donnie is some kind of marksman. He can hit a target no matter how far away, and he has a knack for showing up when the going gets tough. I heard that if there’s an innocent person around, and a killer on the loose, Dark Donnie will take them out. That’s why he has the pull and power he does. I hear he’s not all bad.”
A chill shuddered up Kate’s spine. She set her mug on the counter, losing all expression in her face. She hoped Carly wouldn’t notice, and luckily Larry padded through the hardware store at that very moment, joining them.
“Sweetheart,” Carly cooed. “Can I make you a cup?”
“I am going to be jumping out of my skin.” He laughed before nodding his head. “I’d love a cup.”
Kate gave him a moment to nuzzle into Carly’s shoulder before asking, “So are we good?”
“Yes, yup, sorry.” He smiled, cradling Carly from behind in his arms. “Equipment had no damage and you are all set to go.”
“Good,” she said in conclusion, all the more rattled by Carly’s comments of Dark Donnie with each passing second. “I’ll see you both later.”
Kate started for her truck. She wanted nothing more than to get home and enjoy the rare and brief respite between fix-it jobs. For reasons she couldn’t figure out, her jobs had slowed. If anything, it was a testament to the fact that when she fixed something, it stayed fixed. Kate wanted to take advantage, pour a hot bath, maybe open a bottle of wine, and submerge in suds with a good book. But when she climbed up behind the wheel her cell phone began vibrating in her overalls and she hoped like hell it wasn’t Scott calling to tell her Jason had been arrested for the murder of Donna Kramer.
It wasn’t, thank God. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief seeing Justina’s name flashing across the LCD screen of her cell.
“Hello,” she sang, trying to sound upbeat.
“Kate! It’s Justina. You must come by Carnegie Real Estate!”
“When?” she asked nervously, wincing at the thought of an impromptu fix-it job.
“Right now!” The real-estate agent explained. Kate thought she heard a bottle of champagne pop in the background. A bunch of women cheered. “We’re celebrating the sale of the Joste house! That damned piece of property has been hanging over our heads for years! And finally it’s out of our hair! We have you to thank. Won’t you please come by?”
Kate cringed, rested her head on the steering wheel. Was now the time to tell Justina that her buyer was now dead? The house would end up back on the market.
“Sure,” she groaned, perking up at the thought of champagne. “I’ll swing by.”
She must have been on speakerphone, because all the ladies in the background cheered uproariously.
Oh God.
“See you soon?” Justina asked, ecstatic.
“Sure,” she said dryly.
Kate supposed lies of omission were contagious, as she drove across town to the real-estate office. If she could weather Scott’s questions and still hold her tongue about Jason, then she could have a few flutes of bubbly with the Carnegie Real Estate ladies and not say a word about Donna Kramer.
Kate wasn’t sure she liked who she was quickly becoming.
From the sidewalk where she was approaching, the front door of Carnegie Real Estate was wide open and Kate could hear laughter billowing out. Through the windows she saw Justina wrapping her arm around one of the younger agents and raising her champagne flute with her free hand.
Kate stepped into the anteroom just as the ladies were clinking their glasses in celebration.
“She’s here!” sang Justina, breaking from the fray to welcome Kate to the party. Justina let out a relieved groan. “Thank God we sold that house. Am I right?”
Kate smiled, but it felt more like wincing.
“I was starting to think that art deco house was cursed,” she went on, making a light joke of the years she had spent desperately hustling to get that home sold and off the market. “Not that I didn’t appreciate the challenge, but we’re all thrilled.”
Justina led her over to one of the desks, which was serving as a refreshment table. On it was several bottles of wine, both red and white, an ice bucket chilling a bottle of champagne, a row of glasses, and a platter of cheese and crackers.
“What can I get you?” she asked, eyeing the options as if she were deciding for herself. “The white is chilled, as well as the champagne.”
Kate liked the idea of champagne more than the reality. In truth, between the sweetness and the bubbles, it usually gave her a headache before it did a relaxing buzz, so she mentioned a glass of white wine would be nice and Justina wasted no time pouring her a generous amount.
As soon as she handed it to Kate, she plucked her own flute of champagne off the table, raised it into the air, and began another congratulatory
speech. Kate glanced around the room, looking from face to face. The agents were more than tipsy. Considering the day Kate had survived, she was eager to join them, except for the matter of getting home. She had a personal rule about not driving, even after one glass.
The agents cheered, as Justina concluded her toast, and collectively drew their glasses to their mouths and drank. Kate did as well, recognizing immediately that the wine was chardonnay, one of her favorites.
Justina took hold of Kate’s arm and guided her away from the others, who began mingling and complimenting one another on everything from their shoes to their filing skills.
“We have a big month coming up,” Justina said proudly. “There’s going to be a lot of work, if you can handle it.”
“Oh that’s good news,” she commented before taking another sip of her wine. There had been a lull in her fix-it work and it would be good to keep busy, both her hands and her mind, so as not to be swallowed by the fact that her own son had shot a killer before her very eyes.
“I’ve been speaking with Dean,” she went on. “And Rock Ridge can expect a flurry of tourists as soon as that amusement park of his opens its doors.”
Kate had heard the same thing, but with Scott angling in with his warrant to search the park for drugs, plus the reporters everywhere who would surely pick up on the controversial story, Kate wasn’t so sure the amusement park would do anything but drive prospective tourists away.
“So Carnegie Real Estate will be embarking on a new enterprise,” she continued.
“A new enterprise? What?”
“Well, it’s all very hush, for the time being, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that ex-convicts have been floating into town. That’s bad for business, my business, as you can imagine. And Dean holds the same concerns. So I’ve had a few meetings with him where I’ve proposed Carnegie Real Estate build a high-rise on the outskirts of town, apartment rentals. I don’t love rentals, but the idea is to rent the units to the convicts. This way we’ll keep them separate from the residents. No one looking to buy a house wants to hear that an ex-con lives next door, or even on the next block. But if they’re all located in the same building—and we’ll build some amenities nearby for them so they won’t have to come down Main Street—then I’ll have an easier time of selling the out-of-towners on the idea of moving to Rock Ridge.”
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