Deadly Devotion

by Sandra Orchard

  Keith hooked a boy under each arm and spun them around. “Yum, my favorite. How’d ya know?” His fingers played the piano on their bellies and sent them into a fit of giggles.

  A tall, dark-haired woman appeared in their wake. In her casual attire of mint green capri pants and a floral tank top, she looked remarkably elegant, despite having two preschoolers in tow. Even if her munchkins hadn’t rounded the corner yelling for their grandpa, Kate would have instantly pegged the woman as Tom’s sister. Vivid blue eyes obviously ran in their family.

  The woman slid a pizza box on the table beside Tom’s. “I see great minds think alike.”

  “Hey, sis.” Tom gave her a hug. “I’d like you to meet Kate Adams.”

  “Hi Kate, I’m Tess.” She offered a firm, I’m-so-happy-to-meet-you kind of handshake. “You must be the mystery woman who’s keeping the dynamic duo here on their toes.”

  Kate laughed. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “Good for you. These donut-eating cops need the exercise.” Tess snagged Tom’s lawn chair and made a show of getting comfortable as she flashed Tom a teasing grin.

  Kate adored Tess already.

  Keith plopped his twin grandsons back onto their feet and restrained them with a palm on each head. “This is Timmy.” Keith patted the boy on his left. “And this is Terry,” he said, patting the boy on his right.

  Kate hunkered down to their eye level. “Well, hi there. I’m happy to meet you. I’m Kate.”

  The boys pulled away from their grandpa and tackled her. “Hi, Auntie Kate,” they squealed.

  She swallowed them in her arms, thrilled by the greeting. She’d always wanted to be an auntie.

  Tom plucked each boy off by the collar. “Hey, guys, let her breathe.”

  Their mother handed them each a plate of pizza at the picnic table. “I hope you don’t mind if they call you auntie. We like them to use a formal title when they address adults.”

  “I don’t mind at all. It’s sweet.”

  “Guess what their father’s name is,” Keith said with a glint in his eye.

  “Ted?”

  “Not even close.” Tom plopped onto the end of the picnic bench without offering so much as a hint.

  “You two.” Tess gave Tom a swat. “My husband is Xavier. He’s French. But since Tom and I both had T names, we decided to continue the tradition with the twins.”

  “Is your husband coming tonight?”

  “No, he’s away on business—a buying trip. We own the antique store on Third Street.”

  “Oh, I’ve been in there. You have some beautiful pieces. I’m partial to the old books myself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there. I always talked with an older woman. Norma, I think her name was.”

  “That was my mom.”

  Kate felt the blood drain from her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” She glanced from Tom to Keith. She was supposed to be helping take Keith’s mind off his wife, not heaping on more reminders of what he’d lost. Yet neither man appeared disturbed by her faux pas. They actually seemed pleased that she’d known Norma. “I thought your wife looked familiar when I saw her photo,” Kate said to Keith, “but I couldn’t place where we’d met.”

  “She lost a lot of weight after those photos were taken.” Tess’s gaze drifted, and a fleeting smile touched her lips. “After I had these two hooligans, Mom almost singlehandedly ran the store and kept me sane. We have a new girl working for us now, although I’m always around somewhere. Our house is attached to the back of the store.”

  “Oh my. Living beside an antique store adds a whole new meaning to the term ‘baby proofing.’”

  “You can say that again.” Tess’s laugh came easily. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m an herbal researcher.”

  “That’s right. Tom mentioned that to me.”

  Kate’s heart shimmied around her chest in a delighted fit. She snuck a peek in Tom’s direction and he winked. A wink that said, “Yep, my talking about you means exactly what you think it means.”

  Kate took another bite of pizza and savored how wonderful this new discovery felt.

  His nephews practically swallowed their slices whole, downed their glasses of lemonade in one long gulp, then raced to the swing set, escaping their mother’s attempt to swipe their faces clean.

  Tess fell back into her chair with an exhausted but amused sigh. “So how do you feel about a pharmaceutical company setting up in town, Kate? It’s all everybody who came into the shop talked about today.”

  Remembering the Peter guy who’d recognized her resemblance to Mom, Kate squirmed. If that Peter was the same Peter that Darryl met from the pharmaceutical company, the company’s move could impact her work in more ways than she wanted to think about.

  Tom picked up the copy of the Port Aster Press he’d brought out with him. “Yeah, I saw the headline in the paper.” He skimmed his finger over the opening paragraph. “Have you heard of the company? It’s called GPC.”

  Kate choked on a chunk of pizza. Coughed it loose. Sipped her lemonade.

  Tom patted her back. “You okay?”

  “Yes, fine, thank you.” Avoiding eye contact, she took another sip of lemonade. GPC. She hadn’t heard that name in twenty years. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Oh, this was so much worse than she’d thought. Peter didn’t just know her parents. He’d probably worked with Dad.

  Tom nudged Kate’s chin. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve gone white as a ghost.”

  Ghost was right. The ghosts Mom had done her best to guard Kate from all these years, going so far as to move halfway across the country, far from their reach, but apparently not far enough. And the worst thing was, Kate still didn’t know what Dad had done that was so bad, or why Mom had adamantly insisted that Kate never mention to anyone where Dad had worked.

  “Kate?” Tom echoed, concern pinching his voice.

  Kate took another sip of lemonade. “I’m fine, really.”

  Keith grabbed the pitcher from the table and emptied it into her glass. “I’ll get us some more.”

  After Keith disappeared into the house, Tom turned his attention to Tess. “Are you coming for lunch tomorrow?”

  “Sure, we’ll be here. The kids just couldn’t wait that long to see their grandpa.”

  “Your dad seems like a terrific grandpa,” Kate chimed in. Until Gran and Gramps died, their home had been a place she could drop by anytime, unannounced. She missed that.

  “Yeah, Dad’s great with the boys. We all really miss Mom. Tom came home so Dad wouldn’t be alone, but when the kids are around it’s hard to stay sad for long.”

  “Where did you work?” Kate asked Tom.

  “I was with the FBI in DC.”

  “But you’re Canadian, aren’t you?”

  Tess laughed. “Technically, not. Mom said that he was born wanting to be an FBI agent. Mom and Dad were happily enjoying their second honeymoon in the Poconos when he stormed into their lives, not about to wait until they got back to Canadian soil. For years after Tom left for DC, Dad would brag about him working for the FBI and no one believed him.”

  “Dad bragged about me?” Tom sounded shocked. “I thought he resented my decision to move to the States.”

  Tess looked at Tom like he’d turned green and sprouted leaves.

  “I acted like that,” Keith said, meandering toward them with a full pitcher of lemonade, “so you wouldn’t get too big for your britches.”

  Tom’s jaw dropped, and for a moment he just stared at his dad.

  “What?” Keith swiped at his mouth, his cheeks, his chin. “Do I have food on my face?”

  “No.” Tom’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “No. I just had no idea you felt that way.”

  This time, Tess winked at Kate. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she was certain she was going to have a lot of fun getting to know Tom’s sister better.

  For the next couple of hours, in between roughhousing with the twins,
Keith and Tom one-upped each other with humorous cop tales. Hearing Tom and Keith talk about their jobs like two regular guys showed her how silly her “us and them” mentality about cops had been. It was fun hearing them laugh about their gaffs and spend an evening not thinking about murder suspects. Best of all, the conversation never circled back around to the topic of the drug company eyeing their town.

  “I’ll walk you to your apartment.” Tom slid out of the driver’s side of the car, walked around to her side, and opened the door.

  “Thank you,” Kate said, certain she should protest that such precautions weren’t necessary but afraid she might be wrong. “I had a wonderful time this evening. I think hanging out with your family did more to lift my spirits than I helped lift your dad’s.”

  “That’s where you’d be wrong. I can’t remember the last time we enjoyed each other’s company so much.” Tom’s hand skimmed the small of her back and her skin tingled.

  Kate gulped. Oh, boy.

  They climbed the stairs to her apartment, making small talk as if neither of them wanted to mention the elephant in the stairwell—actually two—the reason Tom felt compelled to escort her to her door, and the attraction that seemed to be blooming between them. For tonight, that suited her just fine. Never mind that she could open her own zoo with the elephants she’d collected of late. She was happy to forget about Edward for one night and dream about spending more time with Tom and his family.

  When they reached the second floor, Tom took the key from her hand and unlocked the apartment door.

  “Hi . . .” Julie said, adding six extra syllables to the word. “I wondered where you were.”

  Tom reached for Kate’s hand, cupped his palm overtop, and surrendered her keys. “Looks like you’re in good hands. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten.”

  “I’ll be ready.” Kate tootled her fingertips like a giddy schoolgirl and closed the door.

  “Not dating him, huh?” Julie hopped onto the couch and hugged her knees to her chest. “Spill.”

  Kate brushed off the suggestion with a flick of her wrist. “I spent the evening with his dad and sister and two adorable little nephews.”

  “Oooh, you met his family already! This is serious.”

  Kate didn’t hide the smile that snuck onto her lips. “Maybe,” she said with just enough tease to drive Julie’s matchmaking mind crazy. She pressed the button on the answering machine.

  “You have one missed call,” the automated voice droned. “First message.”

  A male voice came on. “This message is for Kate Baxter.”

  Kate froze at the sound of her former name.

  “I think you’ll want to talk to me. I’ll be in touch.”

  14

  Kate had a sweetness about her that could make a man dream. And dreaming was dangerous. Except . . .

  Tom propped a foot on his desk and sipped his coffee as the Tuesday morning shift trickled in. His dreams the past few nights—filled with images of strolling through the park with Kate, sharing meals, laughing, teasing—hadn’t felt dangerous.

  Nothing like the nightmares he’d been facing down since his partner’s death. Kate made him believe that he could still make a difference working in law enforcement.

  She probably didn’t have a clue about the feelings she’d sowed in his heart with that green thumb of hers, especially since he’d implied more than once over the weekend that his motive for spending so much time with her was to keep her out of trouble.

  So far nothing about coming home had worked out the way he’d expected. For more than two months, he’d tried to convince Dad to attend church again. Yet Dad had accepted Kate’s invitation without a second’s hesitation.

  Tom closed his eyes and revisited the memory. Kate’s sweet singing voice and the radiance on her face during the worship service had reawakened his own yearning to draw nearer to God—something he’d hoped leaving the FBI and returning home would make easy for him. But Kate’s joy and the exuberance with which she’d discussed the pastor’s message had underscored just how far off course he’d wandered.

  The computer beeped, prompting him for his password.

  Giving his head a little shake, Tom opened his eyes. Yup, dreaming was dangerous business. He’d begun to think that he and Kate could have a future. That she might be someone he could believe in.

  After his partner’s betrayal, that wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d do again.

  “Tom.” Officer Hutchinson, the youngest rookie on the force—a lanky kid who looked like he’d started shaving last week—planted himself in front of Tom’s desk. “The chief wants to see you in his office.”

  Not good. In the past week, Hank had gone from bringing him coffee and resting his feet on the corner of Tom’s desk while they rehashed old times to sending rookies to summon him to the office. Tom grabbed the three files he’d been working on since Hank’s ultimatum, in case he expected proof.

  When Tom stepped into the office, Hank’s scowl warned him that this week wouldn’t be an improvement on the last. “Shut the door.” Hank twisted the window blinds closed, cutting off the one source of brightness in the room. “I just got off the phone with Dave McCleary.”

  Hank’s pronouncement mimicked the rapid-fire staccato of an automatic assault rifle, and Tom knew better than to return fire. He searched Hank’s face. Maybe the man hadn’t completely dropped the case. If he was calling Leacock’s lawyer, he must harbor at least some suspicions. “That so?”

  “Yup. Little Miss Loyal Friend is getting greedy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Kate Adams. She’s blinded you with a few flutters of her eyelashes.”

  Tom folded his arms over his chest as if Hank might notice the way his heart kicked at the suggestion. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t deny it. I saw the two of you at dinner together Friday night.”

  “Why would I deny that I went out with her? Since when is it a crime to take an attractive woman to dinner?”

  Hank rested his hip on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “The two of you looked pretty chummy as you came out of church Sunday morning too.”

  “You were at church?”

  “I happened to drive by when it let out.”

  What was Hank doing? Spying on them?

  Tom fisted his hands under the cover of his armpits. “What does this have to do with McCleary?”

  “Your new girlfriend went by to see him yesterday afternoon. She’s questioning Edward’s claim to Daisy’s estate.”

  “So? Maybe she has a valid concern.” Tom clamped his mouth shut and weighed the collateral damage that revealing what he knew about the “nephew” might incur. If Tom lost his job, the investigation was over for good.

  Hoping to pacify Hank by appearing to capitulate, Tom dropped his defensive stance and sank into the chair opposite Hank’s desk. “Edward’s real name is Jim Crump. He’s a swindler, not Daisy’s nephew.”

  Looking angrier than before, Hank rose and moved behind his desk. He braced his fingertips on the desktop and leaned toward Tom. “How long have you known this?”

  “I found out last week.”

  “Does Miss Adams know?”

  “No, I didn’t want to encourage her sleuthing.”

  “Her sleuthing?” Hank’s voice rose skeptically, before lowering to a growl. “Or her ploy so we wouldn’t suspect her?”

  “Suspect her of what?”

  “Leacock’s murder, of course.”

  “Kate?” Tom sprang to his feet and planted his own fingers tip to tip with Hank’s. “You closed the case. Said Leacock’s death was self-inflicted. Now you want to pin it on Kate?”

  “Crump’s not the only one who changed his name. Or did Miss Adams neglect to tell you that she was once a Baxter?”

  Tom’s sharp inhalation gave away the answer.

  “I didn’t think so.” Hank straightened and looked almost sorry that he’d been the one to tell him. “I saw how
Adams played on your sympathies. I’m surprised you allowed her to draw you into her web. After what happened to your partner, you should know love is a trap.”

  Hank’s comment sparked a slow burn in Tom’s chest. Kate wasn’t anything like . . .

  An image of the spy who lured Ian to his death flashed through Tom’s mind. No, he wouldn’t believe it. Not of Kate. “You’ve got the wrong Kate Adams. She would have told me if she’d changed her name.”

  Her boss’s quip slid through Tom’s thoughts. Maybe she thinks getting in good with someone on the inside will get her out of a ticket.

  No, not Kate. The logistics didn’t add up. “We closed the case before Kate set foot in this office. If she killed Leacock, why would she storm in here demanding the case be reopened?”

  “Because we blamed the death on herbs, which cast a big shadow on her research. Far better to hang Leacock’s death on some conspiracy. I’m surprised she didn’t go after the big drug companies she’ll be competing with.”

  “I don’t believe this. You think Kate killed her mentor for a piece of her estate. She doesn’t care that much about money.”

  “That’s what she’d like you to believe. She’s using you the same way that broad used your partner. That’s why I ordered you off the case.”

  Tom sucked in a breath, but the air didn’t seem to reach his lungs. How dare Hank compare Kate to that woman? They were nothing alike.

  “Think about it,” Hank continued, as if a couple more blows might convince Tom of Hank’s version of the truth. “Motive—get all the glory for their research and all the financial reward, including Daisy’s estate. Means—the herbs they use every day. Opportunity—by Adams’s own admission, we know the women drank tea together on a regular basis. And what the coroner didn’t put in his report was that the toxin that killed Leacock likely accumulated in her system over several weeks. Unfortunately for Miss Adams, Leacock added her nephew to her will before the toxin did its job.”

  “That’s pure speculation,” Tom growled, even as his mind revisited the suspicions he’d harbored after Mrs. C told him of Kate’s stake in the Leacock estate.