Secrets We Keep

by Barbara Freethy

  "I'm sure Mom loved having her girls around."

  "She did. The one good thing about a wedding is that it brings the family together."

  "This family rarely needs an excuse," he said with a laugh.

  "True. I'm going to take off. But before I go, can I just ask—"

  "No. You can't ask."

  "Come on, Hunter, I'm curious."

  "You're always curious. But you can't ask, because I can't answer. I don't know what's going on with Cassidy."

  "Except that you still have feelings for her."

  "Except that," he admitted. "Everything else is a big question mark."

  Kate's mixed feelings showed in her gaze. "I want you to be happy and if that's Cassidy, that's great, but—"

  "But you can keep your thoughts to yourself. It's my life, Kate."

  "I know, and you're stubborn."

  "Like you."

  "And the rest of our family," she agreed.

  "Speaking of the rest of our family," he said, as Max came down the hall.

  "Hunter, Kate," Max said.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked. "If you're making a personal call, this can't be good. It's not about Cassidy is it?"

  "Not directly."

  "Mrs. Faulkner? Have you found her?"

  "No, but there has been a development." Max gave him a somber look. "Jeremiah Hunt, one of the individuals we interviewed—"

  "I know Jeremiah. Cassidy and I met with him the other night. What happened?"

  "I wanted to check back in with him this morning, go over some of the things he'd told us in our previous interview. I also wanted to take a look at his car after the incident on the coast highway the other night. Since Jeremiah owns an auto shop and is very familiar with cars and has in fact done some racing, I thought he might—"

  "Be a good candidate for having tried to run Cassidy off the road," he finished. "Great thinking, Max."

  "Thank you," Max said dryly. "I do have some skills when it comes to investigation."

  "I know. Sorry. What did you find out?"

  "There was an SUV in the shop with damage to the front bumper."

  His pulse jumped. "Then he did it. Jeremiah tried to kill Cassidy. Did you arrest him?"

  "No. Unfortunately, I found him unconscious in his office at the shop. He'd OD'd. He's still alive, but barely. He's in a coma."

  "But he's going to survive, right? He's going to go to jail for this?"

  "I don't know. Currently, he's in critical condition. And before you ask, we have a guard on his room, who will not be drinking any liquids provided by anyone other than himself, so no chance of a repeat on what happened with Mrs. Faulkner. We're not going to lose Jeremiah. I'll stand by his door myself if I have to."

  "I'd sure like to hear what he has to say—if he did it on his own, or if he was put up to it. I have to believe that David and/or Quan have stashed Mrs. Faulkner somewhere."

  "David was actually in his office today. I spoke to him before coming here. He has solid alibis for when Mrs. Faulkner left the hospital, and he expressed a great deal of concern as to who might have taken the woman he calls Mom. He suggested again that Mr. Faulkner's brother, Evan, might be involved in this. We have not been able to locate him yet. Quan Tran has also disappeared off the radar, but we're working on finding him as well."

  "I keep thinking this is almost over, but the goalposts keep moving."

  "They do," Max agreed.

  "Thanks for the update."

  "No problem. Are you butting in on my case?" Max asked, turning to Kate.

  She made a face at him. "As if I would do that without telling you."

  "Are you telling me now?"

  "No. But if you need assistance, I'd be happy to give it. I was just helping Hunter look for that missing girl, but I guess that has been resolved."

  Max's eyebrow shot up. "Who are you talking about? The girl that Cassidy said went missing from the home, the one that no one else remembered? You found her, Hunter?"

  He realized too late he should have told Kate to keep her mouth shut. Cassidy had made him promise not to divulge Molly's whereabouts. He needed to be careful. He couldn't leave Max hanging, but he also couldn't betray Cassidy's trust. It would only push her further away at a time when he was trying to bring her closer.

  "Yes. It was a lucky break. We found her through a church that Cassidy remembered the girl's grandmother attending. We went there yesterday. It turns out that Molly ran away from the Faulkners' house. She'd only been staying there temporarily, so that's why there wasn't a record of her being assigned to the house."

  "But that doesn't explain why the family claimed she didn't exist." Max's brows pulled together in a frown. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier, Hunter?"

  "I should have. It slipped my mind," he hedged.

  Max gave him a disbelieving look. "That didn't happen."

  He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. "There has been a lot going on. Molly doesn't know anything about Tommy. She left before he was killed. She doesn't have anything to contribute to the case."

  "She lived in the house, just like the other kids; I'd like to talk to her. Where can I find her?"

  As Max's question hung in the air, the alarm bells went off, and he'd never been so happy to get a call. "We'll have to talk later," he told Max.

  "We better," Max said, a warning expression in his eyes. "You can't hold back on me, Hunter. Let me decide what's important to know."

  "Sure," he said. "I will fill you in as soon as I get back. Kate, I'll see you soon."

  She nodded, looking a bit perturbed by the conversation she'd just witnessed. She could tell he was being purposefully vague, just as Max could. But he couldn't worry about either of them now.

  He put on his gear and jumped on board the truck, as they raced toward a three-alarm fire in a retail building. Smoke was visible almost five blocks away. This was going to be a big one, and he would need to concentrate on the fire and nothing else. It wouldn't be easy to put Cassidy out of his mind, but it was necessary. He just hoped that Max didn't talk to her before he had a chance to explain how he'd let Molly's existence come out after Cassidy had expressly asked him to keep the secret. He wanted her to trust him, and he'd already blown it. Hopefully, he could find a way to make it right.

  * * *

  Cassidy didn't hear about the fire that had consumed half of a city block until Tuesday morning when she turned on the news while she was getting dressed for work. She'd gone to bed early the night before after an exhausting day of work and having had too many sleepless nights in a row.

  As she watched the video report, she could see several crews were still on the scene, making sure that the fire that had started in a paint store and wiped out three other buildings was finally out. She squinted, wondering if she might see Hunter in the shot, but it was impossible to identify any of the firefighters.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw it was almost eight. Hunter had said he'd be off at seven, but maybe the fire had put everyone on overtime.

  Now she knew why she hadn't heard from him the night before.

  Picking up her phone, she realized she had a missed call, but it wasn't from Hunter; it was from Max. She checked her voicemail and Max's voice come across the line with disturbing news.

  "I heard you located your missing friend," he said. "Please call me back; I'd like to talk to you."

  She felt a sinking pit in her stomach. Hunter had told Max after she'd deliberately asked him not to? A wave of betrayal swept through her. Hunter wanted her to trust him, but he'd just shown her that she couldn't. It was the one thing she'd asked him not to do.

  Opening up her messages again, she typed in a text to Hunter: Why did you tell Max about Molly? Then she hit Send.

  Her phone rang a moment later.

  "It's not what you think," Hunter said. "I didn't bring up Molly's name to Max."

  "Then who did? He left me a voicemail last night. Luckily, I didn't see it until just n
ow. You could have given me a heads-up. What if I'd answered the phone? I would have been blindsided."

  "I know. I saw Max at the station late yesterday afternoon, right before I went out on a call that lasted all night. We just got back ten minutes ago. I didn't have a second to send you a text. I didn't intentionally tell him about Molly."

  She heard the weariness in his voice, but she was too angry to care at the moment. "So, what happened?"

  "Kate was at the station when Max came by. She wanted to give me an update on her search for Molly. Remember when I asked her to use her FBI resources to help us?"

  "Yes. I forgot about that."

  "Well, Kate hadn't found anything on Molly and was very curious as to what happened to the girl and was ready to keep looking. I had to stop her. I had to say something. I told her that we'd gotten a lucky break and had tracked Molly down through her grandmother. But I didn't give her Molly's name, phone number, or address, and Kate didn't ask. Unfortunately, Max arrived, and when he jokingly asked Kate if she was going to stick her FBI nose into his case, she said—"

  "That she was helping you find Molly," she finished, a bit of her anger receding.

  "Exactly. I told Max what you said, that Molly had left the house weeks before Tommy was killed, that she didn’t know anything, but he said he still wanted to interview her. Luckily, the fire call came in, and I didn't have to give him any more information. If I'd had time, I would have told you he was probably going to call. I know you want to protect Molly, but I don't know if you'll be able to keep her identity or whereabouts a secret."

  "Probably not now. I made her a promise, Hunter."

  "I shouldn't have told Kate, but I wasn't thinking that it would matter if she knew."

  "I guess I understand."

  "What are you going to tell Max when you call him back?"

  "I'm not going to call him back yet. I have work to do. Let's see what happens today. Maybe they'll find Mrs. Faulkner, and he won't need to talk to Molly."

  "Did he tell you about Jeremiah in his message?"

  "Jeremiah?" she echoed. "No. What about him?"

  "Max went to talk to him at his auto shop. He wanted to see if his car looked like it might have had some front-end damage, which it did. He's the one who ran you off the road."

  Her heart skipped a beat. "It was Jeremiah? Is he in jail, I hope?"

  "No, he's in the hospital. He OD'd yesterday morning. Max said he's in critical condition and currently unconscious. At least, that was his status last night."

  "Once again, we're waiting for someone to wake up. He'd better not disappear from the hospital, too."

  "Max also talked to David yesterday. He said David was very cooperative, but he claimed to know nothing. He also has an alibi for when Mrs. Faulkner disappeared."

  "He could have hired someone to get her out of the hospital. Or maybe Jeremiah did it."

  "Why don't we meet? We can talk through all this. I just need to go home and shower."

  "You probably need to sleep," she said, feeling guilty that she'd forced him to deal with all this when he was obviously exhausted. "You were up all night."

  "Sleep can wait. I can meet you in an hour."

  "No. I have a lot going on this morning. I have a meeting with a bride and then I need to get out to the Holman's estate. Let's meet later today—tonight."

  "You're angry. I let you down."

  "I'm not thrilled, but I get it, Hunter. You didn't deliberately betray me."

  "I really didn't. I hope you understand that."

  "You rest. I'll work, and then we'll get together. Okay? I have to go. I have a meeting. Bye." She ended the call quickly, knowing that any further conversation at this moment would not be productive. While she could see how Hunter had let the information slip out, she still wasn't happy about it. He might have put Molly in danger or back on the run. She wondered if she should contact Molly and warn her that the police might get in touch.

  But Hunter had said that Max did not have Molly's real name, and if she didn't call Max back, then Molly would probably stay safely hidden away for a while longer. Maybe once Geralyn was located, Max's need to speak to Molly would go away.

  She probably had a little time before she needed to tell Molly she'd broken her promise. Well, Hunter had broken the promise, but that wasn't going to matter to Molly. And she really wanted to keep open the possibility of a future friendship with Molly, so maybe she'd wait.

  As she stood up, she thought about the other piece of news that Hunter had delivered. Jeremiah had overdosed. Had it been deliberate? Had he been suicidal because he'd realized he'd almost killed her? Or because he had guilt over killing Tommy? Maybe he was afraid he was about to get caught. She couldn't believe the timing of the overdose was a coincidence.

  Picking up her phone again, she called David. She didn't trust him at all, and she might be baiting the tiger, but she was curious to hear what he had to say.

  "Cassidy? How are you?" David asked, answering her call on the second ring.

  "Did you hear about Jeremiah?"

  "Hear what? I haven't spoken to him since Saturday night."

  "He overdosed yesterday. He's in the hospital."

  "What?" Surprise laced his voice. It sounded genuine, but how could she be sure? "Will he be all right?"

  "I don't know. It sounded serious. I thought you or Quan might have more information—not just about Jeremiah, but also about Geralyn. I heard she escaped from the hospital with some help."

  "And you probably think it was me, but it wasn't. I already spoke to the police about it. I don't know who took Mom, but my gut tells me it was Evan. He's probably afraid she's going to tell the police that he killed Tommy. I'm really worried about her. I've been trying to think of where Evan would take her. Do you have any ideas?"

  "No. I don't know anything about him."

  "He liked the mountains. I was thinking he might have headed up to the Sierras, maybe some isolated cabin in Tahoe."

  "I'm sure the police will look for him."

  "I hope they find him before…" His voice trailed away. "I know you don't share my grief, but Geralyn was the only mother I really remember. I was so young when my real mom died."

  "Which is why I think you know where she is now."

  "I really don't. I wish I did, because I think Evan will kill her in order to shut her up."

  His theory made some sense, but she didn't know what to believe. "You're a good talker, David, but you're also a good liar. I saw that when you lied about Molly all those years ago."

  "I don't know how many times I have to tell you that that girl didn't exist."

  "Really? You didn't meet her by a convenience store and take her to the house?" She realized too late she'd just given a big clue away.

  "Who told you that?" he asked sharply.

  "Molly did. When we were sharing a room. I didn't remember until recently."

  "Are you sure she told you that a long time ago? Did you find Molly?"

  "How would I find Molly if she doesn't exist?" she countered.

  He cleared his throat. "You're the liar, Cassidy. That was made clear years ago. You have mental issues. It's understandable. A lot of foster kids have problems."

  "You might have made me believe that just a little when I was sixteen, but I'm not that girl anymore. And if you had something to do with Geralyn's escape from the hospital, with Tommy's death, with anything that happened to Molly, the truth will come out."

  "I'm not worried about the truth, but you should be."

  His words sent a chill down her spine. "What does that mean?"

  "Maybe the people you think are your friends are not."

  "Could you be more vague?"

  "We're done talking, Cassidy. Don't call me again."

  "Trust me, I won't."

  David broke the connection, robbing her of the chance to hang up on him. Fuming, she paced around the room, mad at herself for giving away what Molly had told her about the convenience store. Ho
pefully, she'd covered it up. David couldn't really be sure when Molly had told her that, but he was definitely suspicious. Was that because he knew Molly had run away? He knew Donald had molested her? Would David go after Molly if he thought she was also a threat to Geralyn, someone else who might have a story to tell that would hurt the Faulkners?

  Rolling her head around on her shoulders, she let out a sigh that turned into a groan. Everything was getting too complicated. Maybe she should get back to work and leave the investigation to the detectives.

  Grabbing her keys, she put her phone in her pocket and went downstairs to the shop. When Felicia saw her, she gave her a rather urgent wave.

  An older man stood at the counter. He was in his fifties or sixties. He wore faded jeans and a black T-shirt and had light-brown, thinning hair. He looked a little familiar, and when he turned his head, she knew why. It was Donald's younger brother—Evan.

  Her stomach flipped over in shock and dismay.

  "Cassidy," he said.

  "What are you doing here?" she bit out.

  "Looking for you." Anger blazed through his eyes. "We need to talk about what you've been saying to the police."

  "Cassidy, should I call someone?" Felicia asked nervously.

  She actually didn't know how to answer that question. Evan's face was red, his eyes were jumpy, and his hands were clenched in fists. He looked like he was about to snap. But he wasn't going to hurt her in the middle of the store with witnesses around.

  "It's okay," she said, not wanting to involve Felicia in her personal problems. "Come with me," she told Evan, leading him into the small room they used for wedding flower consultations. "Why don't you tell me what you're talking about?"

  "I just spoke to the cops," he said. "They think I killed some kid fourteen years ago. They think I might have killed my own brother, too. They said the children who used to live in the house have all pointed their fingers at me. I need that to stop."

  "Well, I didn't point my finger at you. I don't know who killed Tommy, but my money is on Donald."

  "My brother wouldn't have murdered a kid. You're crazy."