Deadly Payoff

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Deadly Payoff Page 6

by Valerie Hansen


  Shaun raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t he?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because you have a habit of taking matters into your own hands? I’d have to think twice before I gave you any encouragement to get more involved. I imagine your father feels the same way.”

  “I only act if nobody else is doing anything,” she insisted. “Sometimes I feel as though I’m the only one in the ocean who sees the sharks circling. Know what I mean?”

  “Not exactly. But I think I get the general idea and it scares me.”

  “I’m not reckless, if that’s what you mean. I just don’t have a lot of patience.”

  Shaun gave her a lopsided smile. “I was referring to the part about the sharks. Do you see lots of those in your line of work?”

  “A few. Jellyfish are far more likely to hurt you. Sharks are usually not dangerous.”

  He shook his head as though he thought she was seriously deluded. “Usually not dangerous?”

  “Hey, no job is without its hazards. Take your stint in the army, for instance. Where did they send you? What did you do?”

  To her dismay, Shaun’s countenance darkened and his eyes narrowed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Okay. Fine. What would you like to talk about?”

  “Nothing. I’m almost finished here. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as this door is dry enough to rehang.”

  Delia pulled a face. She was still searching for a snappy retort and coming up blank when the extension phone in the library began to ring. Since it was closer than the one in her father’s study she sidled past Shaun and lifted the receiver.

  “Blanchard residence.” She cocked her head as she listened to the caller and looked back at Shaun. “No. I understand my father has gone out.”

  Shaun nodded.

  “Yes. That’s right. I believe he left a few minutes ago. Why?” She paused, listening. Her breathing grew more rapid. Staring at Shaun, she continued her conversation but she knew there was no way she could hide her astonishment and concern so she didn’t try.

  Finally, she said, “Yes. Yes, I’ll tell him. Thank you for calling.”

  Shaun’s eyes were asking countless questions. Delia propped a hip against the edge of the heavy library table to steady herself before she said, “We have a problem.”

  Shaun was beside her in two long strides. “What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I should be so lucky,” she gibed, wanting to lighten the subject yet knowing it was beyond serious, at least where she and her family were concerned. “It’s Erik Evans. Right after Father’s lawyer got him out of jail, the guy disappeared.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. The man’s a career criminal. I’m sure he knows lots of tricks of the trade. After all, he managed to follow me back here after I did everything I could to be sure I was in the clear.”

  “The police will find him.”

  Delia shook her head. “No, they won’t. The charges were officially dropped, just like Father wanted. Nobody cares where Evans went. Nobody except the Blanchards.”

  The intense concentration on Shaun’s face reminded her of the way he’d looked when he’d been battling to free her from the thug’s clutches the day before.

  “We have to tell your father what’s happened,” Shaun said. “Until we’re sure Evans is long gone, he could be dangerous.”

  Delia gripped his muscular forearm, immediately mindful of the inappropriateness of her actions yet unwilling to let go right away and deprive herself of the strong sense of Shaun’s support. “You think Father may be in danger?”

  “I don’t know. Do you have his cell phone number?”

  “Yes. I’ll call him right away.”

  She punched in the numbers and listened to the recorded message, then explained, “The service says he’s unavailable. He must have shut off his phone for some reason.”

  “I can understand why,” Shaun said. He took her elbow and steered her toward the door. “Grab your purse and come on. I’ll drive. I’m pretty sure I know where he is.”

  Ronald Blanchard was disgusted with himself. Here he was, a captain of industry, arguably Stoneley’s leading citizen, and yet he felt just like a naughty schoolboy entering the principal’s office.

  He squared his shoulders beneath his finely tailored suit coat, straightened his silk tie and pushed open the exterior door to the historic Unity Christian Church. He knew where Greg Brown’s office was. The problem was, he’d never come there for anything resembling counseling before. The idea of needing anyone’s advice, especially that of a much younger man, galled him enough that he almost turned and left.

  Thankfully, Brown’s secretary was away from her desk when Ronald arrived and he was able to proceed directly into the private section of the office.

  The pastor’s warm brown eyes reflected compassion and genuine concern as he rose and extended his hand. “Good to see you, Mr. Blanchard. How can I help you?”

  Ronald shook his hand firmly. “I’m not sure you can. I’m not even sure why I’m here. The notion of talking to someone who can be totally objective kept nagging at me and I thought…”

  “Of course. Please, have a seat.” The pastor circled his desk, gestured at a pair of occasional chairs and waited for Ronald to choose one before he settled into the other. “What’s on your mind?”

  “That’s a good question,” Ronald said, sighing. “I guess it’s mostly women.”

  A smile lifted the corners of Pastor Greg’s mouth and made his eyes sparkle. “You couldn’t have picked a tougher subject.”

  Beginning to relax in the man’s pleasant company, Ronald returned his smile. “I supposed not. I wish they were as easy to understand as a spreadsheet or an auditor’s report.”

  Pastor Greg chuckled. “That’ll be the day.”

  “I imagine so. Actually, my problem seems to be that I’m still in love with my ex-wife.” Incredulous, even though he knew his words to be the truth, he shook his head. “Maybe I’d better slow down, go back and start my story at the beginning so you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

  The pastor nodded. “Take your time. I’m listening.”

  “Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” Delia was seated beside Shaun in the Murphy Woodworkers’ truck and watching the familiar, historically significant buildings of Stoneley pass in a blur.

  “Because I’m not sure I’m right. I see no need to stir things up worse than they already are.”

  “As if you could.” She pulled a face. “If things get any more complicated I think I’ll scream.”

  “Please don’t. My reputation is already shaky enough.” His gaze met Delia’s and she had to smile in return.

  Shaun slowed the truck and started to pull into the parking lot of Unity Christian Church. Delia was positive he was making a mistake until she spotted her father’s sleek, black town car parked beside the modest silver SUV of the pastor, Greg Brown.

  “My father is here?”

  Shaun nodded and parked. “Looks like it.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I overheard him making the appointment. I was trying so hard to keep from listening, I was afraid I might have been mistaken. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything till we’d seen for sure. It seemed totally out of character for Ronald to seek counseling.”

  “Boy, that’s an understatement. Maybe finding out that my mother may still be alive shook him up more than I thought.”

  “Maybe. Do you want me to go in with you?”

  “Uh-uh. As long as he’s with the pastor he’s safe enough. Would you mind if we just sat here and waited for him to come out?”

  Shaun shrugged. “Fine by me. I charge by the job, not by the hour, and I don’t have anything else lined up. Folks in Stoneley apparently heard how sick Dad was, assumed he couldn’t work and stopped calling. Business has been terrible lately.”

  “I a
m sorry. I’m glad Miranda thought of you—I mean of Ian—when we needed your expertise. You did a beautiful job on that door. I didn’t think it could be fixed so well with all those splinters on the back.”

  “Bullets can do that. They make a little hole going in, then tear things up pretty badly on the way out.”

  “I suppose you did a lot of shooting when you were in the service.” The minute the words were out of her mouth she knew how ridiculous the question was. The look on Shaun’s face told her he agreed.

  He shrugged. “Naw. We used snowballs and baseball bats.” He chuckled wryly. “Yes, Delia, they gave me a gun. And I learned to use it effectively. Now, can we talk about something else?”

  “Like what?”

  “Beats me.” He settled back, still behind the wheel, with his arms folded across his chest. “Why don’t you tell me about Hawaii?”

  She sighed and nodded. “Oh, I’d love to. I hardly know where to start. I live on the North Shore of Oahu near Ehukai Beach Park. That’s where the Triple Crown surfing events take place in November and December. Lots of people come there to watch us surf the Banzai Pipeline, even when we’re not competing.” She grinned at him. “We get phenomenal waves every winter at Ehukai and next door at Sunset Beach.”

  “I think I’ve heard of the Pipeline.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s world famous. In the summer, the waves on the North Shore die down and the best action moves to the south. I take my students to whichever beach best fits their capabilities.”

  Delia gave a little shiver in spite of the sunlight streaming in the truck’s windows. “And it’s warm there. So warm. Balmy and beautiful almost all the time.”

  “You don’t miss the four seasons?”

  “We have seasons,” she said, “Summer, summer, summer and rainy summer. “If I want to freeze to death just going to the grocery store, I can always come back here to visit. Actually, I try to make it back most years for Aunt Winnie’s birthday party and the Winter Fest. The most important surfing competitions are over by then.”

  She took a deep, settling breath, releasing it as a quiet sigh. “Thanks to the problems surrounding my family, I think I’ve accumulated more frequent-flier miles in the last few months than most people rack up in years.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him her most amiable smile and was rewarded with one of his heart-stopping grins. That was enough incentive to cause her to reach over and squeeze his hand for a brief moment.

  Shaun cleared his throat and looked as though he was about to say something important, but the moment was broken when she saw her father leaving the church by a side door. Pastor Greg Brown had followed him. The men were shaking hands when Delia approached.

  “Father! I’m glad I caught you. Hello, Pastor Greg.”

  Both men acknowledged her. Ronald looked as if he wished a chasm would open in the pavement and swallow him. “Delia. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to find you. To warn you,” she explained without hesitation. “Your attorney’s office called.”

  “And?”

  Delia glanced at the pastor, then focused on her father. She knew Ronald didn’t like airing their family’s dirty laundry but since he had asked, she felt comfortable answering directly.

  “Erik Evans has skipped town. They don’t know where he went after they got him out of jail and they thought you should know.”

  Ronald started to curse, then apparently thought better of it considering the company he was presently keeping and stopped. “All right.” He scanned the parking lot and spotted Shaun. “I see you used your head for once and didn’t come alone. Have Murphy take you back to the house and tell him to stay there until I get home. I have one stop to make first.”

  “At the office?”

  Her father shook his head. His eyes met the warm, understanding gaze of the young pastor. “No. I’ve decided to break off my relationship with Alannah Stafford and I think I owe it to her to do it in person.”

  Delia couldn’t help registering the shock she was feeling. “You are? You do? What happened?”

  “I’ve been talking to Pastor Greg about my feelings for Trudy,” Ronald said. “We agree that it’s unfair to Alannah to keep up the pretense that there’s a chance for us as a couple when I know there isn’t.”

  “Wow.” Delia blinked, trying to take it all in. Her father had appeared to be head over heels in love with Alannah, had given the woman expensive furs and jewelry and who knows what else, and now he was planning to break up with her? It was unbelievable!

  It was also the right thing to do, but since when had Ronald Blanchard developed a conscience?

  FIVE

  Shaun had finished rehanging the recently repaired door by the time Ronald arrived at the mansion.

  Delia left Shaun gathering up the last of his supplies and met her father at the front door. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. How did it go?”

  He huffed. “Not terribly well.”

  “I’m sorry. Was she furious?”

  “That’s an understatement. I suppose I should have expected it. She threatened to make me rue the day we met. She’s a little late. I already do.” He snorted cynically. “She threatened to get even with me—with my family—to make us pay.”

  “What did you say then?”

  “I told her she’d have to take a number and get in line. Funny. When she was ranting and raving at me she wasn’t a bit beautiful. It was as if her mask had slipped and let me see the real Alannah beneath the superficial facade. I don’t know what attracted me to her in the first place.”

  Delia could have listed many possibilities, not the least of which was the other woman’s model-perfect appearance and sophisticated demeanor, but she chose to hold her tongue. They had worse problems than coping with her father’s angry ex-girlfriend. They still had Erik Evans’s whereabouts to consider.

  “Let’s go discuss this where the servants can’t overhear us,” she said. “I have an idea.”

  Ronald shook his head. “No. Leave Alannah to me.”

  “Gladly,” Delia said. “I don’t intend to give her another thought. What I want to talk about is finding Evans.”

  “I’ll put private detectives on the case. They’ll locate him.”

  Shepherding her father past the open library doors she made eye contact with Shaun to let him know she wanted him to accompany them. Together, the three entered Ronald’s study across the wide hallway. The room had a mannish, somber tone with its dark, burnished wood and leather furnishings and Ronald’s massive yet elegant desk.

  Delia closed the door for privacy while her father circled the desk and settled into his swivel chair.

  She turned to face him boldly. “I want to go looking for Evans myself.”

  Before her father spoke she could read his negative reaction in his body language and harsh expression.

  “Nonsense.”

  “It’s not anything of the kind,” Delia countered. “It’s sensible. He’s already met me. He’s far more likely to tell me what’s been going on than he is to blab as the result of strong-arm tactics.”

  Ronald eyed Shaun. “Oh, I don’t know. He seemed pretty impressed after Murphy got through with him.”

  “Never mind that,” Delia said. “Let me put it another way. I’m going after Evans. Period. Whether you give me your blessing or not.”

  Ronald’s face reddened. “No. You are not.”

  “Oh?”

  “Delia, be sensible. You don’t even know where this man lives. Granted, you’re smart, but you’re no detective. Let the professionals handle it. That’s what I pay them for.”

  “You can hire a dozen private investigators. A hundred. That won’t change how I feel.” She placed her palms flat on the desk opposite her father, and stared him down. “I’m going.”

  Frowning, his jaw set, Ronald glanced across the room and made eye contact with Shaun. “Can’t you talk some sense into her?”

&
nbsp; “Me?” Shaun snorted cynically. “Not likely.”

  The older man’s shoulders slumped and he leaned back in his leather chair, looking every one of his nearly sixty years. “Unfortunately, that’s partly my fault,” Ronald said broodingly, “and if it’s any consolation at this late date, I’m sorry, Murphy.”

  Delia thought she must be imagining things. It almost sounded as if her father was apologizing to Shaun! Her head snapped around, her gaze locking with Shaun’s. Judging by the astonishment on his handsome face, he’d gotten the same impression. What an extraordinary development. If she hadn’t heard it with her own ears she wouldn’t have believed it.

  “Look,” Ronald said, still concentrating on Shaun, “I know this isn’t your fight but I also know there’s no one else who can handle my headstrong daughter the way you can. Would you be willing to stick with her? See that she doesn’t get hurt?”

  Shaun scowled. “What makes you think she’ll listen to me any better than she listens to anybody else?”

  “I don’t know that she will,” Ronald said. “But I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re backing her up.”

  “Well…”

  Delia had heard enough. “Hold it. Just hold it. You two are discussing me as though I’m not standing right here in front of you. Don’t I have some say in all this?”

  To her astonishment, Shaun and Ronald uttered a simultaneous, “No!”

  Hours later, Delia was upstairs in the second floor guest room, muttering to herself over what had transpired in the study and trying to control her emotional reactions to it. She was thunderstruck. Shaun Murphy and Ronald Blanchard, sworn adversaries, had made their peace and had teamed up to thwart her. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined anything like that would ever take place. She didn’t know which felt worse—bucking her father’s usually unquestioned authority or winning the argument only if Shaun’s continued presence was part of her victory. Some victory!

  She was no fool. She knew that her father had only given in because he expected his hired investigators to reach Erik Evans long before she did. They very well might. That didn’t keep her from wanting—from needing—to do something besides sit around and twiddle her thumbs while her family was going through a hypothetical tempest.

 

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