The McKenna Legacy Trilogy

by Patricia Rosemoor

  No more than he'd tried to prove his darling Lily's innocence before her incarceration, Skelly thought.

  "We're not through by any means, Grandfather. “Finished with her dinner, Roz placed her flatware on her plate and set her napkin on the table. “As a matter of fact, we have another lead we'll be following up in a little while."

  "Tonight?"

  Noah's white hair seemed to bristle in disapproval. Hilary merely appeared troubled. And Claudia was picking at her food, acting as if she hadn't heard a word.

  Skelly said, “That's when we might be able to find Anthony Cavillo over at River Bluff."

  After they'd picked up the Thunderbird, he'd called the resort and had been informed that the owner wasn't around but would be later that evening. Roz had agreed they should head out directly after dinner.

  "Cavillo?" Hilary echoed, now appearing puzzled. “He's never been involved in politics. What does he have to do with anything?"

  "Cavillo and Sullivan were locked in a long term dispute over zoning, “Roz informed her family. “At least that's what Walt Rogowski told us."

  Noah frowned. “You talked to Rogowski about this?"

  An obviously distressed Claudia suddenly threw down her fork and popped out of her chair. “I don't know why you insist on ruining a fine dinner with this horrid topic, Rosalind! I certainly taught you better!" Trembling under the surprised stares her family gave her, she took a deep breath, and within seconds, her visage smoothed. Suddenly smiling as if she'd never been upset at all, she patted Hilary's hand. “Since you did all the cooking, I insist on handling the clean up."

  What a turnabout, Skelly thought, even as he realized that the normally cool Claudia doted on her aunt. Hilary had claimed she'd practically raised Roz. He suspected she'd done the same with Claudia after Lily was imprisoned.

  Expression strained, Hilary murmured, “How thoughtful of you, dear."

  "I'll help clear," Roz volunteered, standing and gathering dishes.

  "I am not helpless, Rosalind. “Claudia's frosty blue eyes focused on her daughter. “You run along with your friend and play detective if you must."

  Mother and daughter locked gazes. Something subtle passed between them and Roz backed off.

  "Fine."

  While she didn't show it, Skelly knew Roz was hurt by her mother's uncaring attitude toward her. From her nonchalant demeanor, he also understood she was used to Claudia's indifference and had cultivated an uncaring facade in self-defense.

  Heart going out to Roz, wishing like hell he could hold her in his arms and take away the hurt, he quietly suggested, “Let's get out of here."

  Before he said something to her mother that he wouldn't be able to take back.

  BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T NEED TO LEAVE for River Bluff immediately, Rosalind talked Skelly into visiting her attic room.

  "You want to be alone with me, is that it?" he murmured in her ear as they reached the second floor landing.

  Her heart thumped at his suggestive tone. “Down, boy. I'm not the diversion."

  "Then what is?"

  "Grandfather couldn't tolerate being without keepsakes to remind him of Lily." Excitement quickening her step, she raced up the last flight. “I went through her things, hoping to find some clue to help us."

  "And?"

  "How about a diary dated 1963..."

  Skelly whistled.

  "...which I haven't had a look at yet because Aunt Hilary interrupted me." Entering her room with Skelly right behind, she went straight for the closet and switched on the light. “Careful of your head."

  One look at the half-open hatbox in addition to the bit of delicate material sticking out from under the trunk's lid made her stop cold. Skelly ran right into her.

  "Roz?"

  "Someone's been up here since this afternoon." Her chest tightened and she had trouble taking a normal breath. “This isn't the way I left things."

  "The diary?"

  Fear in her soul, she hastened to the trunk and flipped open the lid. A gauzy scarf she hadn't even noticed before sat on top. She dug down and found the carved box, which had been dumped on its side. Hands trembling, she picked it up and triggered the catch. Only when she saw the leather book inside did she allow herself to breathe normally.

  "It's here."

  "The perpetrator obviously didn't know what to look for."

  "Then why?"

  "To see what you were up to. If you were interested in Lily's things, you must have had a reason. Someone wanted to know what that was."

  She was thankful he didn't further voice his suspicions. Her grandfather, aunt and mother were the only ones with access to her room, she conceded uneasily. Any one of them could have searched it while she and Skelly retrieved the Thunderbird from Jarvis Wiggs. But why? She didn't want to believe a person she loved had anything to hide.

  Diary in hand, Rosalind slid onto the window seat where Skelly joined her. A tight squeeze. Too aware of his presence, she opened the leather cover and flipped through the initial entries – three or four per week – reading bits and pieces here and there.

  "Lily and Grandfather were together at the beginning of the year." She flew through several more weeks, stopping at the Ides of March. Brow furrowing, she read aloud. “'Noah is driving me to the edge with his jealousy. He is certain all men desire me as much as he does. Maybe in my youth...Even so, why doesn't he trust me?'"

  "That doesn't sound like a woman having an affair with another man," Skelly said.

  "No." Rosalind skimmed the next few pages. “Hm. The pattern's clear. When Lily couldn't tolerate Grandfather's jealousy any more, she left him...this time, though, it was for good." She pointed. “'I know I must press the divorce. My heart breaks.' Poor Lily. She still loved him."

  "Maybe she turned to Frank Sullivan in despair."

  "But his widow said they'd been having an affair off and on for years," Rosalind remembered, scanning for any details about the dead man. “Here. 'I am disappointed in Frank. His actions are not worthy of the boy he once was. I've pleaded with him, but I doubt he will stop.'"

  "Stop what?"

  "She doesn't say."

  "This could be it. Whatever Sullivan was into that she disapproved of could have gotten him killed."

  Rosalind nodded, next reading from the middle of June, less than two weeks before the murder. “'Noah arrived in Galena unannounced once more. He keeps hoping to catch me with my lover.'" That her grandfather had been in the habit of showing up unpredictably made her uneasy. “'He means to have custody of Claudia. He says my low behavior is upsetting her. How is that possible when I have never betrayed him?'" The import hitting her, she caught her breath and locked gazes with Skelly. “Do you realize what this means?"

  "She and Sullivan weren't lovers."

  "No matter what his wife and everyone else believed." She read on from the same passage. “'It's true. Claudia has not been herself lately. Not since arriving in Galena. She won't tell me what's troubling her. When I broach the subject, she turns away from me. I seldom see the warm, happy girl I raised. She is becoming withdrawn. Unpredictable. Another worry on my heart. All my fault. Divorce must be terribly frightening to a child, even though I think of her as a very mature thirteen. A young lady.'"

  Lily's self-incriminating thoughts haunted Rosalind. She'd seen the photographs showing her mother to be a normal, loving child. Here, Lily indicated that her daughter changed. Withdrawn. Unpredictable. She'd often thought of her mother in those same terms.

  "Are you all right?"

  Appreciating Skelly's concern, she admitted, “I'm a little sad. It never occurred to me that Mother was permanently scarred from the emotional upheaval between her own parents."

  "Some children are affected more than others."

  "I'm certain you're right."

  Did that include him? She remembered Skelly hadn't had a secure upbringing himself, what with his mother dying in childbirth and his father holding his affections at bay in unfair retributio
n. Quickly skimming the final half-dozen entries that appeared to be more of the same, she closed the diary, glad to be done with it for the moment.

  "We don't have to see Cavillo tonight if you don't want to," Skelly said, sliding a comforting arm around her shoulders.

  She leaned into him as if it were natural to her. “Of course we do. The rest can wait."

  Getting out of the house and forgetting the suspicions fomenting in the back of her mind was exactly what she needed.

  ...Noah arrived in Galena unannounced once more...keeps hoping to catch me with my lover...

  Rosalind locked the diary away, wishing she could lock away the memory of those words with equal ease.

  PERRY NESMITH HAD BEEN WAITING across from Lang House for what seemed like hours before Lily's granddaughter exited with that gossip monger. He pulled himself together and rushed across the street as they approached the parking area.

  He yelled, “Miss Van Straaten!" hoping to give her as good a start as she'd given Diane that morning.

  "Mr. Nesmith, what can I do for you?"

  "You can damn well stay away from wife!"

  "I appreciate your concern –“

  "You couldn't possibly!" If anything, his anger had doubled since that morning. “Diane is very a sick woman. She doesn't need your kind stirring her up."

  "Now, wait a minute!" the reporter growled, taking a step toward him.

  The blonde put out a hand to hold him back. “Skelly, let me handle this." She seemed sincere enough when she said, “Mr. Nesmith, again, let me apologize for upsetting your wife. I only want the truth. My whole family's been upset for thirty some years."

  "That was your grandmother's doing."

  "She didn't kill Frank Sullivan. She had no motive."

  He didn't argue the point. “Lily nearly killed Diane, seducing Frank with her Hollywood ways."

  "My grandmother was his friend. Tell your wife she was wrong. They were never lovers."

  "That's a damn lie!" he shouted, shaking inside.

  It had to be...or how could he justify what he and Diane had done?

  Chapter Nine

  THE SUN DIPPED LOW IN THE SKY by the time they drove beneath the tastefully lit sign announcing the entryway to River Bluff. The private road paralleling the Mississippi River ran through a sparsely forested area.

  Wondering how long Perry Nesmith had been waiting for them to leave the house, Skelly asked Roz, “What do you think Nesmith really wanted?"

  She gave him a surprised glance. “A promise that we'd leave his wife be."

  "If that's all, he could have come up to the house and rang the bell."

  "Maybe he was working up his nerve."

  Skelly noted a few vacation homes scattered amongst the foliage along the way. And additional side roads led through thicker woods, probably to more distant tracts of the development.

  "Someone was watching the house last night, too," he informed her.

  "What?"

  "Could've been Nesmith. He saw us in town, remember." Skelly tried out a theory to see if it would wash. “What if Nesmith messed with the brakes, then waited outside the house later to see the results of his handiwork?"

  "It sounds plausible," she admitted. “Why didn't you say something before?"

  "I was trying to get a better look through the telescope when the person disappeared. I figured a neighbor could have been walking a dog."

  And then Hilary had sneaked into the house, and he'd wondered if she'd had reason to skulk around outside. Another thing he wouldn't share with Roz, at least not yet. Though she put on a brave front, he knew some of the personal things she'd read in the diary had upset her. The last thing in the world he wanted was to make her feel worse. That was bound to happen, though, sooner or later.

  For Skelly couldn't rid himself of the bad taste in his mouth every time he thought about Noah's certain antipathy for Frank Sullivan.

  Nearly a mile from the entrance, the heart of the complex dominated the clearing. Sprawling along the river bluff, the massive lodge constructed of stone and timber was reminiscent of the edifices erected in state parks by the Civilian Conservation Corps during the Depression.

  "Check it out," Skelly said. “Pretty impressive."

  "Exactly what I was thinking. Now I wish I'd made the effort to get out here under more auspicious circumstances."

  The parking lot was nearly bursting at the seams, but Roz found a spot near a light standard. By the time they departed, Skelly figured it would be dark, and she was justifiably paranoid about leaving the Thunderbird where people could see it. Not that either one of them had figured a way to keep the car safe overnight.

  Hopefully, lightning wouldn't strike the same vehicle twice.

  Once out of the car, Roz complained, “I don't want to lug a purse around." She threw it into the trunk, then slipped the car keys into her trousers' pocket.

  They started toward the lodge. Skelly gazed around, absorbing the incredible setting, until his attention was caught by a familiar figure leaving the building via the grand entrance. A tall, trim man wearing a two thousand dollar suit, slashes of silver enhancing his precisely cut brown hair, swept down the walkway.

  "Whoa!" Skelly stopped. “That is who I think it is, right?"

  "Walt Rogowski."

  "Well, well, well."

  "A little odd to find him here."

  "Unless he's soliciting campaign contributions. Though I didn't get the impression that Rogowski considered Cavillo his bosom buddy."

  "Me, neither."

  The gubernatorial candidate disappeared into the rear of a Lincoln Towncar. A burly young man, his fair hair tousled with the breeze shooting off the river, closed the door and hopped behind the wheel. The tinted rear window slid open. Still some distance away, Skelly could barely make out Rogowski reclining against the plush interior...and yet he swore that, for a moment, the politician looked straight through them.

  Then the window silently closed and the long, black car crept away.

  Next to him, Roz shivered.

  Skelly rubbed the middle of her back to soothe her, even as he said, “Why don't I feel good about this?"

  He started off again, noting that Roz kept glancing over her shoulder. To make certain Rogowski's car stayed gone?

  Distracted, she managed to bump into a timbered fence. She gripped the top rail to steady herself. Skelly followed her wide-eyed gaze and faced the descent to the wide river below. A soft incline was broken by a natural path about a dozen feet down. Then the pitch steepened dangerously, promptly becoming a sheer drop to the water.

  Looking as if her stomach were doing a jig, Roz hurried him toward the lodge's entrance.

  He held the door open for her. “Here's hoping Cavillo won't clam up on us."

  "Let's think positive. Rogowski could have been here to see anyone."

  Anticipation at meeting Anthony Cavillo quickened Skelly's step. He nearly collided with a little boy who was screaming and running away from his exasperated mother.

  "Sorry," the harried woman said, grabbing her son's hand and pulling him back into the noisy throng milling about.

  The lobby and the equally crowded restaurant beyond both matched the lodge's exterior. Timbered beams and two see-through stone fireplaces graced the open space whose peaked ceiling rose about forty feet high in the center. Couch and chair cushions encased in colorful materials of bold design complemented rough-hewn furniture.

  "There's the registration desk," Roz said.

  "Let me handle this...if that's all right with you."

  "Knock yourself out."

  Evidently she wasn't in the mood to bicker.

  Though the lobby was packed, traffic at Registration was slow. As Skelly approached the brunette behind the counter, Roz fell behind him. He swiftly inspected the employee's identification tag.

  "Good evening, Miss Jerina," he said smoothly. “I called earlier and was told Mr. Cavillo would be in his office about now."

  He
gave the woman a winning smile and her ruby red lips curved in response. Then her eyes widened.

  "Aren't you Skelly McKenna?"

  "Guilty as charged."

  "I thought so." Seeming impressed, she leaned toward him across the desk in an intimate manner. “Mr. Cavillo was here, but you just missed him. Something important came up and he left in a hurry."

  Before he could ask how long the owner would be gone, Roz piped up. “Will he be back tonight?" She'd obviously forgotten she'd agreed to let him handle the situation.

  Miss Jerina blinked and stared at Roz as if she hadn't noticed her before. “Well, yes.”

  "Good," Skelly interrupted. He gave her another smile, hopefully even more winning. “We can wait."

  "Unfortunately, Mr. Cavillo said he didn't know how long he'd be gone."

  "We'll check back in a while."

  "We're having our fireworks to celebrate the Fourth tonight. They'll start as soon as it's dark."

  Skelly winked at her. Then he took Roz's arm and drew her to the doors opposite the main entrance. Halfway across the room, she slowed and glanced around.

  "What?"

  "I have the oddest feeling, as if someone is watching us."

  But when Skelly gazed through the crowd, not even Miss Jerina was looking their way.

  Outside, a deck clung to the length of the building, and a wide stairway ran down to the dock and a busy outdoor café. It's name in flashing lights, the River Star navigated off-shore, and some distance from it, a fireworks barge was setting anchor.

  "So, did Rogowski warn off Cavillo?" Skelly mused as a family of five passed them. “Or was he here on a fishing expedition?"

  "Maybe business brought Cavillo to the casino." Roz's attention was glued to the river boat.

  "Could be." Skelly took a leisurely look around. “With or without the gaming operation, Cavillo's got himself a gold mine here."

  "The view alone would be worth the stay."