by Lois Richer
“Oh, that’s too funny.” Ross pressed his cramping toes against the floor boards. “Everybody thinks he’s a comedian.”
“Okay, since you’re in serious pain and trying so hard not to show it, I’ll let up and tell you what I’ve found. I requested a trace on Kelly’s phone but that won’t happen until tomorrow. From what you said this morning it sounds like a crank, but these days cranks come in all shapes and sizes and some of them are dangerous. We’ll see what develops.”
“She said she saw someone this morning.”
“Doing what?”
Ross explained as best he could. “I didn’t see this phantom figure so I’m not much help there, but I can tell you Kelly saw something, or thought she did. Her face was so white I thought she’d pass out. She’s not letting on, but I think she’s pretty unnerved. Then she was sick last night, too. I don’t suppose that helped.”
“According to Glynis she had some pretty bad nightmares. My guess is Kelly’s having a hard time dealing with your DNA results.”
“You know?” Ross was constantly amazed by how little escaped the folks at Chestnut Grove Community Church.
“I can guess. I saw you talking with Ben at the reception. He left with his new wife and you left with Kelly. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out the situation.”
“Well, don’t let it get around. I’m not too sure Kelly’s ready for the world to know she’s Sandra’s daughter.” He saw her coming and changed the subject. “Why aren’t you working today?”
“Even us lowly cops get days off.” Zach smacked him on the shoulder, then rose. “You’re courting danger traveling with this guy, Kelly. If he falls on you, you’ll be toast. Better get him some private lessons.”
“I tried.” Kelly handed Ross a steaming cup of rich dark chocolate and winked at Zach. “He said he didn’t need them,” she explained, eyes dancing.
“My advice—next time don’t listen to a word he says.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time. I might be stupid but I’m not a total fool. My skiing days are over,” Ross said, finally having pried off his second boot.
“Hey, you guys.” Meg Kierney hailed them from a nearby table. “Want to join us or is that a private meeting?”
Ross surveyed the faces. “Us” included Rachel Noble Cavanaugh, Pilar—Zach’s wife—and Jonah Fraser, eldest son of Reverend John Fraser. He also noted the quick glance Kelly gave him before she spoke.
“We’d love to join you, wouldn’t we, Ross?”
“Sure.” He handed his drink to Zach. “Make yourself useful, will you?” He eased to his feet, wincing at the joint and muscular protests from his body. He hobbled over to the table feeling like a fool, but determined to try to fit in. “Why does anyone do this?” he asked, lowering his body gingerly.
“First-timer, huh?” Jonah patted his shoulder. “I share your pain, buddy. With this bum leg of mine, I’m beginning to think my skiing days are over.” He held up a hand. “Don’t ask. Old injury.”
“You did very well out there, Jonah.” Rachel patted his shoulder. “Next time we’ll go a little slower. No point in trying too much at one time.”
“Exactly my thoughts.” Ross turned to Kelly. “Maybe I’ll come back and try again next year. But I doubt it.”
Pilar leaned close to Kelly. “Zach told me about the closet incident at Tiny Blessings and the phone calls. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her smile looked forced. “I’m surprised to see you and Rachel here. You four usually choose the first Sunday of the month for brunch at the diner.”
“To which you know you are always welcome. Maybe if you’d come today we would have gone.” Meg winked at her. “Lately we don’t get there as often as we used to. Each of us has other commitments. This week, with Anne still on honeymoon and Leah just beginning hers, there are only the two of us regulars. Since this outing was planned, we decided to come here instead. Maybe next week you’ll join us?”
“Maybe.”
Ross wondered why Kelly didn’t accept the invitation and join the women. From all he’d heard, their Sunday brunches were hilarious occasions. That reticence again. He was getting more curious about that as time went on. Even now she seemed to listen more than participate. Of course, it could be she didn’t want to go to the diner because she’d have to face Sandra.
“So what are we to expect at this shindig at Morrow Manor?” Pilar glanced around. “Should we go home and change? You think it’s going to be very fancy?”
“You know the mayor’s wife.” Rachel made a face. “Of course it’s going to be fancy. Lindsay Morrow lives to show off.”
“She is one of the best hostesses we’ve ever had for a function like this.” Kelly’s words sounded automatic to Ross. She sipped at her tea, the mint aroma filling his nostrils as he leaned over beside her to rub his sore knee.
“I never did understand why you seem to admire her so much.” Rachel sounded disgruntled. “She’s such a show-off. Do you know she’s even trying to take over my Valentine’s Day thing for the foundation? She’s bound and determined to make it some kind of charity costume party.”
“That could be fun.” Meg leaned forward. “What was your idea?”
“Less formal for starters. Lots of folks in Chestnut Grove might be intimidated by having to find something fancy to wear for just one occasion. Besides—” Rachel’s voice dropped “—Lindsay always has to be in command at her things. I was hoping to get more community involvement going. That’s hard to do when the mayor’s wife is ordering everyone around.”
Ross watched the interplay between the women, noted how Kelly held back, offered little comment.
“Someone who really knows how to get people involved is Sandra Lange. When I helped her with a teen class, she had them think up ways they could raise money to buy a new television for the seniors’ lounge. We had more fun in that class—Sandra was a hoot.” Meg sighed, shook her head. “But even if she was feeling up to it, I wouldn’t dare ask her. Sandra and Lindsay could never work together. Their styles are too different.”
At that point, Zach drew Ross into a conversation. Only later did he turn to say something to Kelly and notice she’d left the table.
“She said she wanted to take another run down the hill before we had to leave,” Meg explained, seeing his confusion. “Her mother was a skiing champion, you know. She won all kinds of awards for her skiing prowess, even got a place on the Olympic team, but she broke a leg before the Games and couldn’t participate.”
“Wow.”
Meg nodded. “She taught Kelly everything she knows about the sport, entered her in a ton of events. Kelly always did well, but she never had Carol’s ability. So you see, you don’t have to worry about Kelly on skis. She’s an expert on these runs.”
Ross nodded. There was a little more discussion, then the others gathered their things, prepared to leave for the Morrows’. When they were gone, he retrieved his own street shoes, turned in his skis, then sat to digest the information he’d just learned.
A glimmer of insight dawned. He’d wondered why she had no fear, but of course Kelly wouldn’t fear skiing because she’d mastered it. It was like her work at Tiny Blessings—in that area she knew exactly what she was doing.
The wintry day grew cooler as the sun dropped over the hill. Still she didn’t return. Ross didn’t even realize he was worried until he glimpsed her pink suit swooping down the hill. She wasn’t hurt. A rush of relief flooded him as he hurried outside.
“Ross, I’m so sorry. I completely lost track of time.” Face glowing, eyes shining, she removed her skis, which he picked up. She led the way back inside and quickly pulled off her boots. “You should have gone ahead with the others. I would have caught up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of reneging on my deal.” He picked up her poles and boots, as well. “Besides, I just remembered something. We forgot to bring along that cake.”
Her eyes dimmed, her smile faded. “Yes, I guess we did
.”
She said nothing on the return journey to her home, refused his offer to go inside with her. “I don’t want us to be too late,” she murmured.
She emerged from the house a few minutes later in a different outfit, cake in tow.
“No fair,” he teased when she climbed inside. Kelly lifted one eyebrow. He touched one corner of her lips. “Milk?”
“I was thirsty.” A faint flush of red suffused her cheeks. “I should have offered you something. I’m sorry.”
“I was just teasing you. I’m fine. You ready?” He waited for her to clip her seat belt, but she didn’t respond. “Kelly? What’s wrong?”
“There was another phone message,” she whispered.
Anger filled him. Why would someone harass this beautiful woman?
“What did it say?”
“Same thing. Get out of town. Nothing for me here.” She looked straight at him. “I don’t understand why this is happening. What did I do?”
“Nothing. It’s just some nutcase harassing you to get his jollies.”
“It doesn’t sound like a nutcase. It sounds like someone is quite serious.” Finally she fastened her seat belt.
“Well, don’t worry. The mystery will soon be cleared up. Zach told me they’re putting a trace on your line.” He started the engine and began the drive to the Morrow mansion. “Have you turned down someone recently, for an adoption, I mean?”
“No. I have three cases pending, but I’m sure it’s not one of those would-be parents. By the time they come to me, they’re usually so desperate to have a child, they’ll do anything. Threats and nasty phone calls would be a definite black mark that would stop most adoptions.” She met his look. “You have no idea how much some people long to be parents. That’s the only part of my job I really don’t like, turning someone away. It’s heartrending to watch their hope die.”
“I can imagine.”
“Sometimes I’m their last hope.” She sighed, shook her head. “But as my mother always said, you take the good with the bad. Some things in life just have to be done. I have to do my best to place the children where I think they’ll flourish. I can’t please everyone.”
“Were your parents strict, Kelly?” He didn’t know where the question had come from, particularly when she looked so shocked.
“Strict? As in mean?” She shook her head. “Not at all. They were very loving, kind people. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Just wondered. You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”
“No. When I was little I asked my mother about that and she said that after they chose me, they moved to California. She said she had all she could handle just loving me.” Her eyes glossed over. “Wasn’t that sweet of her?”
“Mmm.” He pulled into the driveway.
“Just drive up to the door. They always have someone who parks the cars. Mrs. Morrow is ultra-organized.”
Which sounded good, until Ross noticed that his older car found a home out of sight with the other clunkers while the newer, fancier vehicles were displayed in plain sight on the long circular driveway. He made a mental note to reevaluate his impression of the Morrows.
“So you came, Kelly. I was beginning to wonder. It’s grown so late.” Mrs. Morrow barely paused for a breath, her speech was so smooth and practiced. “And you’ve brought your friend. I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. Please, let Catharine take your coats.”
“Thank you. This is Ross Van Zandt.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Shame on me for not remembering. How nice to meet a such handsome man.”
“You, too.” Ross helped Kelly out of her jacket, slightly annoyed by Mrs. Morrow’s gushing tone.
“I’m so sorry we’re late, Mrs. Morrow. I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you. We were delayed at the ski hill. I brought this.” Kelly handed over her cake.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Lindsay Morrow handed off the plate to a passing waiter with barely a glance at the dessert. “It’s so clever of you to think of those who aren’t watching their figures and can gorge themselves on empty calories.”
That disparaging comment got to him. Ross stepped forward.
“Kelly invited me to come with her. I’m quite sure we have met before, Mrs. Morrow.” He held out his hand, forcing her to shake it or render a display of bad manners. The frail white fingers barely grazed his skin before she pulled away. “You may remember I’m a private investigator.”
“Oh. Well, perhaps we have met. I go to a lot of functions and of course with Gerald as mayor—” She shrugged, her smile fixed firmly in place. But Ross knew something had rattled her. “Do enjoy yourselves, children. Excuse me.”
“Children?” Ross looked at Kelly.
“It’s just the way she talks. She’s probably a little preoccupied with so many people here,” Kelly whispered. “We can talk to her later when things have calmed down, if you want. Don’t you just love this house?”
Love it? Ross glanced around and shuddered. Pretentious, yes. Elegant, maybe. Overdone—totally. But then what did he know about interior decorating? He had no doubt that it cost the Morrows a mint.
“I guess it’s all right. Look, there’s Zach and Pilar. Should we head over their way?” He grasped her elbow and steered her toward the couple. Zach’s arm was looped around his wife’s waist and she was leaning against his shoulder. They looked utterly comfortable.
“You still walking, Van Zandt?” A mocking smile curved the detective’s face.
“I’m walking. Barely.” Ross waited a moment until the two women began chatting, then poked Zach with his elbow. “Maybe we should get these two gorgeous ladies something to drink?”
“I was wondering if that was going to happen soon.” Pilar offered him a sweet smile. “Mayor Morrow has mixed up a new punch that he claims is better than ambrosia. I think I’d like some of that.”
“Sure. Kelly?”
“Oh, punch would be fine. Thank you.”
“Punch it is.” He inclined his head toward the table where a punch bowl and little glass cups were laid out. “You heard them, Zach.”
The other man waited until they’d moved away from the ladies.
“Okay, what’s going on?” he asked, accepting the glasses Ross filled and handed him.
“Kelly had another phone message when we stopped by her place to pick up her cake. Just thought you should know.”
“This guy’s persistent.”
“I hope you find out something soon.” Ross took a sip of the punch, decided it wasn’t bad and filled his glass. “Kelly’s bothered, though she won’t admit it.”
“Understandable.” Zach walked with him toward the women. “Ladies, the two of us have decided you both need a little excitement in your lives so we’re moving into the den. I hear Mrs. Morrow has some games going on there. If we can’t find excitement there, we’ll keep looking.”
“Keep looking?” Ross glanced at Kelly. “What does that mean?”
“You missed the announcement.” Pilar motioned to several different areas of the house. “Mrs. Morrow has different activities set up in different rooms. Board games in the den, karaoke in the music room, a whole bunch of things. We’re to sample a variety. The dining room is loaded with food we brought and a lot of other goodies besides. Anytime you want a snack you just help yourself. Clear as mud?”
Ross grinned. “Oh, very clear. We’re going to the karaoke room. See you later.”
“We are? Why karaoke?” Kelly didn’t give in to the pressure on her arm but stayed put, her scrutiny intent. “Are you some kind of closet performer? Because I should warn you—I don’t sing in public. Not at all. And I don’t intend to let the rest of the world in on that secret tonight.”
“I have other reasons for attending.” He caught her hand and tugged her alongside him. “Come on. It will be fun.”
“Fun?” They paused at the door of the music room, where Kelly sent him an arch look as someone who was obviously tone-deaf broke into a rather loud a
nd distinctly off-key version of “Amazing Grace.”
He nudged her inside anyway and found them both seats at the back. Once they were seated, he glanced around the room with interest. There were a few new faces, but most were people he’d been introduced to in the weeks since he’d moved to Chestnut Grove.
Issac Tubman took the stage next. The lovable cook from Sandra’s Starlight Diner crooned a delightful western melody that had the crowd enthralled, especially when he knelt in front of Florence Villi at the end of the song. Even Florence had to chuckle. Dinah Fraser looked like a starlet as she belted out her song in perfect voice and clarity. Then Pilar’s father, Salvador Estes, treated them to a wonderful Spanish medley.
“They’re all very good, aren’t they?” Kelly whispered as she clapped. “I can’t believe we have this much talent in our town. Maybe Rachel should plan a talent show for her Valentine’s fund-raiser.”
“It’s an idea.” Ross knew she said something else, but his attention was fixed on a tall slender man with black hair and hazel eyes who was leaning against the door frame. His clothes looked expensive and fit him perfectly. “Who’s that at the door?” he asked, leaning toward Kelly.
“Hmm?” She was studying the next performer, made a face as Pilar’s dark-haired brother Ramon lip-synched a silly Italian aria about the fickleness of women. “At the door?”
“Yes.”
Kelly glanced around him, a satin swath of her hair brushing his cheek as she got a better look.
“Andrew Noble.” She leaned back, her warm breath flickering over his ear as she whispered, “He’s Rachel’s cousin. From New England, I think. He shows up every so often, usually if there’s a party going on. I have no idea what he does but I can see him as something mysterious. Maybe that’s because he so often wears all black.”
Ross knew the Nobles were wealthy. This Andrew looked a little like he imagined a rich playboy would, but there was something distinctly unplayful about the man’s eyes. He decided to keep an eye on him.
Samantha Harcourt took the stage next. In Ross’s opinion she was thinner than a skeleton, but apparently models were supposed to look like that. After the first two notes, he grabbed Kelly’s hand and tugged.