Her heart leapt. Sam. He was alright. Thank God.
“Steady boy, steady.” Sam’s voice sounded soft and jittery.
Grace blinked as he soothed the stray dog she had worked so hard to expel from her life several weeks back. Thank God for canine disobedience.
“You’ve got this all wrong!” Devon pleaded. “That animal attacked me.”
Sam made a show of petting the dog’s scruffy back. “Good boy.”
Hearing a thump behind her, she whirled around just as Kirk bolted across her yard. Sam let go of the dog and took off after him, but Kirk had a good lead.
Just as he was about to round the corner of the house, Grace lost her breath. The trench! Unless you knew it was there, it was invisible in the dark, and Kirk was headed straight for it.
Instantly, his arms flew up in the air and he splayed forward, moonlight reflecting off the blade as it flew from his hand. He landed face down on the hardened sod with a dull thud. In a second, Sam was on him.
The two men struggled and Grace prayed that the strike to the skull she’d given Kirk a few minutes before would hobble him enough to give Sam the advantage. Letting out an unearthly wail, Kirk reeled back and gave Sam a punch to the jaw that sent him toppling, giving Kirk the momentum he needed to get to his feet and search for his weapon. Sam managed to pull himself up, quickly shaking off the damage and pummeling Kirk in the stomach. Just as Kirk folded forward, Sam’s fist met his jaw with a cracking blow. Kirk’s knees folded and Sam grabbed his arms from behind, gripping him in a hold similar to the one Bob maintained on Devon.
Grace’s nerve dripped away like melting frost. As her body wilted, Lucy’s firm but gentle grasp enclosed her. “Are you okay?”
Grace nodded mechanically, still coming to grips with the actual answer to that question. Her voice found its way out, bathed in surprising control. “No, I’m not. They wanted to kill me.”
“What?” Lucy said with appropriate disbelief.
“Luce!” Sam maintained an unwavering grip on his opponent while tipping his chin toward the pocket of his shirt.
Making a wide arc around the thrashing Kirk, Lucy reached a cautious hand between the two men and managed to retrieve Sam’s cell phone. Punching it with her finger, she stepped to the patio and spoke urgently.
Devon struggled, but Bob had a firm grip on his arms from behind. The moonlight illuminated a trickle of blood down one side of Devon’s face.
“The sheriff’s already on his way.” Lucy returned to Grace’s side, clicking the phone shut and encircling her with a supportive arm. “Apparently Sophia called him.”
Grace lifted her brows. Sophia?
“I love you, Tracy!” All eyes shot toward Kirk as his pleading screech pierced the early morning. “I love you! Say you love me!”
A wave of pure relief buoyed her as she squared him a hard look. “I remember falling in love, Kirk.” Still speaking to Kirk, her eyes locked with Sam’s. “Just not with you.”
Even in the faint light of predawn, she saw one side of Sam’s mouth quirk. She melted into a smile as the sound of a distant siren grew more distinct.
Chapter 43
Grace wrung her hands. She’d been through more opening nights than she could possibly count, but none as important as this. She flicked a look at her watch and steadied her overzealous heart. It was nearly time for the show to end. Time to get moving.
A quick check of the mirror confirmed that the hairdresser Spritz had recommended really did know her stuff. Grace smiled at her image. It felt good to return to her blonde roots. Stepping from the bathroom to the office with a disgruntled tsk, she vowed to organize that space later in the week, once she made it through tonight. She smoothed the front of her lavender-gray silk sleeveless sheath and took one last strengthening breath before descending the stairs.
“That sauce could use just a pinch of nutmeg.”
Grace couldn’t help but smile at the familiar voice drifting up from the kitchen along with the aroma of huckleberry cobbler. She reached the bottom step and put a hand on her hip. “Mom. What do you think you’re doing?”
A perky woman with hair the color of mahogany turned from the stove, her eyes lighting up as they landed on Grace. “Honey, you look beautiful. That dress was worth every penny.”
Grace arched an eyebrow, walking toward her mother with the careful stride necessitated by her two inch heeled strappy sandals. “Thank you, but you’re avoiding my question.” With a wink to the chef, Grace placed her hands gently on her mother’s shoulders and guided her from the stove.
“Tracy, you said you wanted my input.”
“I know, Mom. But tonight you’re a guest.” As they neared the saloon doors that separated them from the evening’s main event, Grace’s nerves reminded her who was boss.
Clearly, it showed on her face.
Her mother enclosed both Grace’s hands in her own. “I’m so proud of you. You have nothing to be nervous about.”
Grace resisted. “But—”
Her mother squared her in the eye. “Anyone who can sing opera at the Met, survive what you’ve survived, and make it down that staircase in those heels should think nothing of running a restaurant. Now let’s go.”
In unison, they reached out to touch the swinging doors. Grace shot up a quick prayer and they made their entrance.
Emotion welled in her throat. They’d actually done it—gotten the place ready in time for the opening of the first show of the new season. Thank goodness for Nancy. Starting two new businesses at the same time would have been impossible for Grace without a reliable artistic director to take care of the theatre side.
She forced her muscles to relax, and scanned the room which, in spite of the fire, hadn’t changed all that much from its days as a rehearsal hall. The high beamed ceiling still sported the rows of hanging antique lights, now on a dimmer switch, thanks to Bob. The soaring front windows gleamed, seemingly pleased to be rid of the years of caked-on grime that Hank and Carl had needed an entire afternoon and two very tall ladders to eradicate.
It had been Lucy’s concept to use the theatre memorabilia from the rummage sale to decorate the walls. The effect was charming, and Grace loved the touch of local history it added.
She tipped her head, pleased that the light jazz music she’d so carefully chosen set the mood perfectly.
Her mother put an arm around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Everything looks just right.”
Grace agreed. She stole a glance at her favorite feature of the room. The landing that had been her oasis the night of the fire. Softly gelled Fresnels cast their glow on a tall stool and a mic in a stand. Miss Kitty would have to make her entrance elsewhere.
Reminding herself that she was now an employer, she cast a critical glance at the refinished general store counter which had found new life as a dining bar and espresso stand. She firmed her tone. “Taylor, how’s it going back there?”
“Terrific.” She bobbed with youthful anticipation. “Salvatore’s ready for action. Thank goodness Sam saved him.”
Grace couldn’t help but smile at Taylor’s choice of words. Salvatore’s salvation had been only slightly less opportune than her own.
Her stomach fell into her shoes at the sound of voices. She quickly raised her eyes to the new arched doorway that opened to the lobby.
“Mom, why don’t you grab a seat.” She gave her mother’s shoulders a squeeze. “I need to meet and mingle.”
Grace moved quickly across the room. A surge of relief filled her when Lucy and Bob appeared in the doorway.
“Welcome to the ‘Backstage Bistro’.” She opened her arms with a flourish reminiscent of a Vegas showgirl.
Lucy looked around as they descended the ornate steps. “Grace, you’d never guess this place auditioned for a remake of The Towering Inferno. And the candles are perfect.”
“My decorator calls that the ‘finishing touch’.” She gave Lucy a wink. “She’s good. If you’re nice to me, I’ll
give you her number.”
Lucy lilted a laugh. “My favorite part is still those squeaky old theatre seats.” She nodded toward the front corner, where she’d set up a conversation area utilizing seating and tables that hadn’t been smoke damaged. “I can’t believe we actually used to sit in those things for two hours at shot. The new ones are so much more comfy.”
“They ought to be, for the price I paid.” Grace chuckled.
Lucy and Bob stepped away just as the gang from the Banque entered, alit with enthusiasm.
“Grace, I love your hair!” Joanne put her hands to her cheeks. “So long, Anne Hathaway, hello Katherine Heigl.”
Grace ran a hand through her locks, grateful that her do-it-yourself cut from early summer had grown into a stylish shag. “How did you like the show?”
They all chimed into a chorus of approval.
“It was my first Shakespeare!” Joanne spoke as if her viewing the show was a component in its success. “I never knew that The Taming of the Shrew was a comedy.”
“I’m so glad you liked it.”
“And Sophia has never been better. Talk about perfect casting.”
Grace had to agree. Sophia had worked hard and made a formidable Kate.
In no time, the room filled up. Like a bride at a wedding reception, Grace acknowledged a blur of congratulations.
A firm hand touched her shoulder and she spun around to the plump but pretty face of the first person she had met in this town. “Spritz!” She gave her a long hug.
“I can’t keep my handsome hubby waiting.” Spritz turned a wave in the direction of the dashing red haired man. “I just had to tell you how happy I am for you. Buying real estate in Madison Falls is always a sound investment.”
Grace laughed. “Thanks for writing up the offer.”
“I wouldn’t have missed the look on Mr. Roberts’ face. One point five million. Priceless!”
Grace’s heart warmed. “He deserves every penny.” She recalled the day her attorney had given her the check—her profit after selling the painting to a legitimate buyer. The thrill of seeing all those zeros and realizing what she could finally do punctuated her whole ordeal with a lovely twist of fate.
She’d never be able to change the past, but thanks to Kirk’s art expertise, Mr. Roberts was successfully receiving his treatment in Germany, and Madison Falls was not playing host to a posse of Roulette wheel habitués. In fact, Main Street looked prettier than ever with a renovated playhouse and a bistro smart enough to put any sidewalk café in Paris to shame.
“How’s it working out having your mother as a housemate?” Spritz’s query drew Grace from her reverie.
“Couldn’t be better. I missed her so much.”
“Well, you just let me know the second you’re in the market for a bigger house.”
Grace smiled warmly. “Will do.” Suddenly, something in the center of the room begged her attention. “Excuse me, I see somebody I need to talk to.”
Bracing herself, she wound her way through the crowd, sidling up to the table where Sophia sat solo sipping a soda. Her eyes brushed over Grace, then quickly flicked away.
Grace pondered, choosing to stay in spite of Sophia’s obvious reluctance. Although she’d sensed a change in her over the past few months, the two had barely spoken.
“You know,” Grace’s attempt at breeziness felt forced, but she pulled back a chair and sat anyway. “I haven’t said a proper thank you.”
“You’re thanking me?” Sophia’s jaw flexed, although the tenseness in her slender shoulders seemed to ease.
“You tried to warn me about Devon.” The warmth in Grace’s solar plexus felt genuine. “I never told you how much that meant to me.”
Sophia lowered her eyes, giving her an uncharacteristically humble appearance. “That was the least I could do.” Her voice sounded strangled. “I wish I had figured out sooner what a fraud Devon was.”
“A fraud?” Grace’s throat pinched. While her emotions had moved on, the embarrassment over her miscalculation of his character still stung. “I know he let greed lead him to make some despicable choices, but why do you call him a fraud?”
Sophia’s eyes widened as she leaned her forearms on the table. “When he came to town last spring in his fancy clothes and all, I totally bought the act. I was so in awe, I didn’t even question it when he offered to rent out my second bedroom in exchange for acting lessons. I didn’t realize he was completely broke.”
“He was? I knew he had complicated finances, but…” Grace shook her head. “Boy, was he smooth.”
“As ice.” Sophia’s shoulders tensed again. “And, lacking the proper mental traction, I conveniently slipped and fell for it. He convinced me to put his car in my name and to make the payments for him until his big ‘deal’ came through. I was so naive.”
“Wow.” Grace leaned in. “So you didn’t know what the deal was either?”
“No.” Sophia rolled in her lips as if to quell a quiver. “I was sick when I thought the theatre was going to be torn down…” Her voice trailed off to a near-whisper. “I grew up doing shows here.”
Grace nodded her understanding.
Composing herself, Sophia drew in a deep breath. “Then you came along. I’m sorry I was so mean. I saw the way Sam looked at you, and I got a little carried away. I really had no right to pry into your private life.”
“I’ve forgiven you, Sophia.” Grace reveled in the truth of her words. Then a niggling thought rose to the surface. “How much did you know about what Devon was up to?”
“Not much.” The corners of Sophia’s mouth lifted as she lowered her chin. “When Devon told me about selling the painting, I thought that sounded pretty good if it meant he could pay me back. Believe me, I didn’t realize he was stealing it from you.”
“Go on.”
“I knew he had sold it to Kirk and that he told him where to find you, but I didn’t know Kirk was really dangerous.”
Grace pulled in her brow. “But, you’d seen the police report.”
Sophia let out a jagged breath. “See, Devon made it sound like you and Kirk were a couple and that you were making him prove his devotion. He said the police incident was just some lovers’ quarrel. From the way Devon talked, it was like he was playing cupid. Being all magnanimous and helping Kirk.”
Grace shuddered. “That wasn’t true at all. Kirk and I were never a couple.”
“I know that now.” Sophia let her eyes take a slow journey around the room before going on. “When Kirk showed up at my house the day Pirates opened, I got a bad feeling about him. Not from anything he said, just from the way he was. He and Devon made a plan for Kirk to hide in the rehearsal hall.” She looked around. “In this room. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
Grace heaved in a breath. These men and their surprises.
“Then the fire happened and I wasn’t sure where you had gone. Devon and I were frantic until Nancy told us she’d seen you leave with some guy. I didn’t get why Devon was still so keyed up till he said something about Kirk taking off without paying him. I said you mean for the painting, and he said no, for you.” She pointed a slim finger at Grace.
A hard weight churned inside Grace’s gut. “So how did you wind up at my house later on?”
“Well, I was pretty upset about the fire, so I couldn’t sleep, and Devon was pacing the floor like a crazy man. I kept saying he should get some rest for his drive the next day, but he said he had more important things to deal with. Then his cell phone rang at one in the morning, and I knew it was Kirk.”
“Did you hear what they said?”
“I overheard enough to know that Kirk was in some kind of trouble and that Devon was going to help him.” She shook her head. “It was weird. At that point, I was just glad Devon was planning on leaving my house the next day.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I fell asleep. I woke up about two hours later because Devon and Kirk were making so much noise.”
“Noise?”
“Rifling through Devon’s things. I stayed in my room and eavesdropped and I heard them talking about finding Devon’s key to your house. Did you know he had one?”
Grace shook her head as an eerie tremble scuttled up her back. So that was how he’d gotten in.
“Kirk told Devon to do whatever he needed to do to get you into the car so that he could dispose of you out in the woods. That was the word he used. Dispose.”
Queasiness surged in Grace’s belly. What exactly had he intended to do?
“I was just sick about it, and I knew I was partly to blame.”
Grace cocked her head. Sophia had been nosy, but how could she be to blame?
Sophia’s cheeks darkened. “See, I was the one who found Kirk’s phone number so Devon could call him. Remember, I told you I’d endeared myself to that detective? He was happy to help when I mentioned your name.”
Grace’s heart surged. Sophia had sold her out. Why did she just feel sorry for her?
Sophia continued. “I realized I had to try to warn you. That’s why I went to your house. To try to stop you from going with him.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t just say it.” Tears buoyed her voice. “But I was scared. I didn’t know what he’d do.”
“It’s good that you didn’t. He and Kirk could have killed us both.”
Fear flashed across Sophia’s face. “At least now Devon’s only facing one murder charge”
“Right.” Grace shuddered. “Poor Carson.”
They shared a mournful look. Carson had been trouble, but he hadn’t deserved to come to that end. Nobody did.
A silence stretched as Sophia looked away. “There is one other thing.” Her rueful eyes returned reluctantly to Grace. “Not as bad as the rest, but…I knew it all along and I really should have told you.”
A cold weight rolled down Grace’s throat before settling in her belly. “What?”
Saving Grace (Madison Falls) Page 28