Secrets and Lies (Hearts Of Braden Book 4)

by Susanne Matthews

  “Not unless I have to. My great-grandfather built this place himself, hoping to have a big family. Only two survived past infancy. The rest are buried in the family cemetery up on the hill behind the house. I’ll show it to you some day. Uncle Jack put up a stone for my mom and dad, but their remains were never found. Still, as a kid I went and spoke to their spirits there. I still do when I’m hurting. I talk to Uncle Jack, too. My uncle believed that the spirits of those who love us truly are never far away.”

  “That’s a beautiful thought.”

  “I took a lot of comfort in it growing up as did he. My grandparents only had the twins and Uncle Jack didn’t marry, so I’m the last of my line.”

  “But you’re still young. You could have a family—”

  “I have notoriously poor luck with women,” he interjected. “I haven’t found one who’d be willing to give up the bright lights and big city for Braden.”

  I would. The thought surprised her. She liked Braden, despite the less than stellar welcome she’d gotten thanks to Mabel, but she had a feeling things were going to get better, and spending time with Jackson was icing on the cake.

  “We can have lunch after you soak,” he said. “I took the chance I’d be able to convince you to join me and had the chef at the Worthington Arms make up a cold meal for us. There’s white wine in the fridge, and I asked Lexi how to make those spritzers you like. I’m not a pro, but I’ll give it a try.”

  “You’ve thought of everything,” she said and sipped the hot drink. “You know, you don’t have to take pity on me. I’ve come to grips with all this.” She indicated her leg.

  “Emily, I’m spending the day with you because I want to get to know you better. I didn’t know about your leg when I planned all this, so I can guarantee, there’s no pity involved. We’re friends, remember?”

  “Yes.” And she wanted it to be more…You can’t always have what you want.

  Twenty minutes later, Jackson carried her on a tour of the house, showing her the den, a more relaxed room than the living room, decorated in older check furniture. This was where he and his uncle had spent a lot of their time watching the enormous flat screen television, and playing games.

  “What a beautiful chess set,” she said admiring the hand-carved set depicting the traditional chess pieces.”

  “My grandfather made it for my dad and uncle. He taught me to play. Do you?”

  “Play chess? No, I’m strictly a checkers kind of girl, but I’d love to learn.”

  “Then, maybe I can teach you how later.” Still carrying her, he showed her the rest of the main floor which consisted of four other bedrooms, including his with a sunroom spa off it, and a powder room since each bedroom had its own bath.

  “That leads up to the attic that used to be a nursery and my play room. I had the whole space. It could easily be divided to make more rooms, but since Uncle Jack and I were alone, we really didn’t need extra space. Before the bunk house was built, the farm hands slept up there, too.”

  “Impressive,” she said, mentally totaling what it must cost to heat and maintain something this size. It had to eat up a huge chunk of his income, and the rent he got for the leased land was nominal, and probably just covered the taxes.

  He ended the tour and stopped in front of two massive French doors. “This was Uncle Jack’s suite. I added it to the house a few years ago when—it doesn’t matter. I designed it and the furnishings.”

  Stepping into the room was like stepping into a forest glade. The massive bed, made of natural pine, dominated the room and matched all the other furnishings. The room, decorated in greens and blues similar to the colors she’d chosen for the nursery, was large and airy. The huge plate glass windows looked out at the back on the property. A smaller glass door led out to a deck complete with chairs whose cushions sat on the floor inside. Even with the rain falling, it was a beautiful view.

  Two doors opened off the room. The first was a bathroom which had been adapted for someone with physical disabilities. The second was a therapy room, similar to the one they had at the hospital, complete with a hydro therapy pool similar to the one she’d used with a powerlift chair for moving the person in and out of the water. Something told her this room had had another purpose originally, but she wasn’t sure what it would’ve been other than a study perhaps. The walls were covered in photographs taken in Hawaii of an older man and Jackson.

  “When did you go to Hawaii?” she asked. “It’s the only state I haven’t visited.”

  “Five years ago. I took Uncle Jack there for an extended vacation. I’ll leave you to get changed,” Jackson said. “Call when you’re ready and I’ll help you into the water and show you how to control the chair.” He pressed a button that closed the drain and turned on the water. “I assume you want it hot?”

  “Yes. That would be wonderful. This is quite the set-up.”

  “I put it in after we got back from the Big Island. Uncle Jack’s arthritis got really bad. He used it almost every day until he got sick. It hasn’t been used since he passed. You saw the hot tub and sauna I added recently off my bedroom, but I think you’ll want to buy a bathing suit before we use that one together.”

  Thoughts of being naked in a hot tub with Jackson brought heat to her cheeks.

  If he noticed, he was gracious enough not to say anything. He set her bag down on the counter. “Call when you’re ready.”

  Emily quickly changed into the black t-shirt and black crop pants she brought. “I’m ready,” she called, moving as best she could by sidling along the counter.

  Jackson came into the room, sat her in the chair, and explained how the lift worked. Within minutes, she was seated in the pool, the hot bubbling water soothing her aching back, hips, and stump.

  “This is heavenly,” she sighed.

  Jackson pressed a button on the wall and soothing jazz filled the room. “Relax,” he said. “I have to go out to the barn for a minute or two. When I come back, I’ll have just the stuff for your sore back and leg.”

  Emily nodded, letting the music relax her. What she wouldn’t give to be able to do this every day. The thought sobered her. Once again, she realized how costly it would be to maintain this place. The improvements she’d noted had to have cost a fortune and seemed to all been completed recently. This room alone would’ve set him back at least fifty grand, and he would’ve had hospital bills to pay…

  She sighed. It looked as if she couldn’t cross Jackson off her list. With the money it took to look after this place, would he be willing to look the other way if the price was right? The man she was getting to know seemed to be a man of integrity, but as she’d seen before, integrity often vanished in the light of cold, hard, non-taxable funds. And if he was involved, then everything he’d told her about the others would be suspect too.

  She let the water ease her aches and pains praying she was wrong.

  * * * *

  Jackson sat at the dining room table across from Emily, sharing the cold lunch the chef had packed for them. It was the first time he’d been able to bring himself to sit in this room since Uncle Jack had died, but having Emily with him chased all the sadness away. Dinner in the dining room had been a Sunday afternoon ritual enjoying Uncle Jack’s signature roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

  He’d told Emily about his life growing up here on the farm, and she’d reciprocated by regaling him with anecdotes about her life as a military brat, moving from base to base. She might have had a vagabond life, but she relished every minute of it.

  When they finished eating, Emily pointed at the lone photograph on the wall above the buffet. “Who’s that woman?”

  “That’s Amelia Winters. She’s the reason Uncle Jack never married. She died in a car accident six weeks before their wedding, and he never forgave himself for surviving the accident. Her parents let him bury her in the family cemetery here. Uncle Jack spent lots of evenings sitting on the bench talking to Amy as he called her.”

  “Poor man. Was
he driving?”

  “No. She was. They were on their way back from a dance at the country club in Waterloo when a trucker lost control of his rig and hit them head on. It was in the days before seat belts, and Uncle Jack was thrown from the car and badly injured. As he got older, arthritis got into the joints and crippled him up pretty badly, but he never stopped walking up there to sit and talk to Amy, no matter how cold or miserable the weather was. He loved her his entire life, and even though I never met her, I learned to love her, too. She was the kind of girl I’d hoped to marry someday. Near the end, I could have sworn she was in the room with him, offering him her love and consolation. He died with a peaceful smile on his face.”

  He noticed the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Was she thinking of her husband? Would she spend the rest of her life alone like Uncle Jack had?

  “That’s so sad,” she whispered. “I wonder if that’s what Amelia would’ve wanted. At least they’re together now.” She sipped her wine, opting to have it as is with the meal.

  The rain continued to fall, and as much as he hated the thought of taking her home, he knew any chance of going into Waterloo tonight wouldn’t work. Trying to get from the truck to the theater would be a chore, but it was still only mid-afternoon, and he would drag the visit out as long as he could. Before he took her home, he would offer to rub more liniment on her lower back, even though doing so the first time had almost killed him. His whole body went hard when he touched her skin. “Would you like to watch a movie or play a game?” he asked remembering she’d commented on the chess set in the study earlier. “I can teach you to play chess now, if you like.”

  “You can? I’d love to learn. Let me help you clean up, and then we can go into the other room.”

  “Sorry, family rule. Guests aren’t allowed to clean up around here. I’m just going to load the dishes in the dishwasher and put what’s left in the fridge. It won’t take long. Why don’t you go into the study and get comfortable. I’ve moved all the obstacles out of the hall.”

  Emily chuckled. “Sorry you had to do that, but the chair takes up more space than most people think. You can’t imagine the way I had to move things around in El Paso. The house was a veritable rabbit’s warren of small rooms full of oversized furniture.”

  “So, the stuff in your apartment isn’t yours?”

  “A couple of older pieces and the décor items are, but most of it was supplied by the Chicago office. They knew of my disability and decorated accordingly.”

  “What did you do with the house?”

  “I sold it, as is, complete with the furniture to Alex’s cousin. It was the home he grew up in, and it should stay in the family.”

  “Where will you live when the case is over?”

  “I don’t know. I’m big enough to accept that I’m doing this for revenge, but once that fire’s out, I don’t know if I could continue doing this kind of work. I may leave the agency and focus on my career as a nutritionist. There were things I wanted in life…”

  “And have you given up on all those dreams?”

  “Most of them. Let’s talk about something else. I can get pretty maudlin after a couple of glasses of wine.”

  “Okay,” he replied, not wanting her to dwell on thoughts of her lost husband and child. “I’ll clean up, and then teach you how to beat me at chess.”

  Jackson went into the kitchen and put away the last of the picnic items. He knew the house would seem lonelier than ever when she left later today, but he hoped he could convince her to come again. He didn’t want to see her spend the rest of her life mourning the loss of her husband and child. Selfishly, he imagined her holding their son in her arms. It wasn’t an impossible dream. They were friends. It could become more in time. All he had to do was convince her to give him…give them a chance. Did he love her? No, of course not. But he liked her a hell of a lot, and if she thought half a leg would douse his interest, she had another thought coming.

  With a little luck, he would cultivate that friendship, make sure to keep her safe, and slowly worm his way into her heart. By this time next year, the lady might be open to having a relationship with him. Thoughts of Mike Reynolds filled him. Somehow, he would have to find a way to cut the agent’s grass. Emily might think Mike’s behavior on Monday was all for show, but he knew better. And then there was the Chef. The man had tried to kill her twice. He wasn’t going to let him have a third chance at completing the task.

  Three hours later, Emily had won one game to his three. Chess only took a lot of time when masters played the game.

  “It’s almost six,” Emily said, lining up the chess pieces. “You have to go out and look after the animals. Do you want to do it now, or take me home first?”

  If he looked after the animals, he might be able to linger at her apartment a while longer, maybe watch television together. “Unless you’re in a hurry, I’ll take care of the animals. It’ll take me about half an hour.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll amuse myself looking through that photo album you showed me. I had no idea you were such an accomplished athlete.”

  “It was high school. I was good, but not good enough for the college teams. I’ll go change and be back as soon as I can.” He handed her the album.

  Jackson hurried to put on his barn clothes and take care of the stock. When he came back in, Emily was still looking through the photographs and press clippings Uncle Jack had kept celebrating everything from his first 4H ribbon to his commencement speech at graduation.

  She glanced up when he came in. “All finished?”

  “Yes, but I smell like the barn so give me a minute to change, and we’ll get on the road. The rain stopped. Maybe it’s done for good.”

  “I hope so. By the way, that salve you gave me is amazing. I looked and the redness is all but gone.”

  “Uncle Jack had Mrs. Kessel make it up for him. He used it religiously for every ailment imaginable on him as well as on his animals. The new help often ended up with saddle sores come round up time, as I did each summer when I came to visit as a kid. I put some in a small container for you to take home. It’s in your purse, along with your gun. I wasn’t snooping. I just saw it when I put your phone in there earlier at the apartment. You mentioned you had one.”

  “Don’t worry about it, and thank you. At this rate, I shouldn’t have any trouble wearing my prosthesis on Monday.”

  “You’re welcome to return tomorrow to use the therapy pool. You can try to beat me at chess again if you like. I’ll be right back.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jackson pulled to a stop in front of the apartment complex. “I’ll carry you in, and then I’ll come back for your gear.”

  Emily took the keys out of her bag and raised her hands to be picked up.

  Jackson carried her into the complex and held her while she unlocked the door. She pushed the door open and gasped. The room looked as if a mini tornado had struck. Carrying her over to the sofa, he set her down, and pulled out his phone, dialing 9-1-1.

  When the operator answered, he gave the details quickly, not taking his eyes off Emily who was as white as a sheet, He was afraid she might keel over.

  “Are you okay?” he asked after he hung up.

  She nodded, her eyes fixed on the shattered Navajo clay pot he’d admired before. The couch cushions were slashed as were the chairs and anything else made of fabric. Whoever had done this had been furious.

  “I’m going to check the other rooms.”

  “Don’t leave me,” she cried, her voice edged with panic.

  Jackson nodded, picked her up, and carried her through the apartment, stepping over broken lamps, smashed dishes, and fragmented glass. Entering her bedroom, he stopped cold, stunned by the level of destruction that outdid the other room. Her bedding and clothing were in shreds. He noted the plastic bag he had seen in her closet earlier was nowhere in sight.

  “Did you have any other evidence from the clearing other than your suit?” he asked.

  “Yes. I had a small ba
g of bones and teeth in the bottom drawer of the vanity in the bathroom. Cal told me someone plowed up the field, so whatever else was out there is lost now, thanks to the rain.”

  Jackson opened the bathroom door, but it took only seconds to realize the baggy she mentioned was gone. Her bottles of perfumes and lotions were smashed on the floor, creams and toothpaste pressed out into an unholy mess. On the mirror, written in her new lipstick were the words: You should have listened and left.

  Emily cried out. “My prosthesis. Do you see it anywhere? I left one in here. My backup leg was in the closet, and I can’t see it either.

  Jackson looked around quickly, set her down to check under the bed, but there were no artificial legs in the room, nor was her leather cuff anywhere in sight. The socks that covered her stump lay on the floor with the rest of her clothing.

  At Emily’s request, he carried her over to the dresser. Her wedding picture was damaged beyond recognition, the glass ground under foot destroying the image. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and Jackson felt useless, the slow anger in the pit of his stomach caused by this wanton destruction eating away at him like acid. He hoped whoever had done this was with the Chef, because if it turned out that Mabel or any of her friends were involved, he would have Cal throw her in jail and toss away the key.

  “Take me into my office, please,” she asked trembling, her voice barely recognizable through her tears.

  In this room as in the others, items, including her laptop computer and printer, had been smashed and broken. The closet door was open, and Jackson winced at the only item that had escaped the rage. On the shelf sat a wooden box, undisturbed amongst the turmoil. He reached for it and handed it to her, knowing exactly what it was. At least whoever had done this had had the decency to leave the ashes of the dead alone.

  The sound of the police siren filled the room. Moments later, Kevin came barreling into the apartment, cursing when he saw the mess. “What the hell happened here?”

  Jackson carried Emily back into the living room to confront the deputy.