Jill Elizabeth Nelson

by Legacy of Lies

  “Already done, dear,” the woman answered, face serene.

  Nicole ducked her head and squirted dishwashing liquid into the warm water. She hadn’t realized her grandmother was such a stellar actress. What did that say about her claims to know nothing about the bones in the garden?

  Outside, the rumble of a truck announced that the garbage truck had reached their alley. Sounds of garbage collection continued as Nicole washed the dishes and her grandmother dried.

  “Slow down, dear,” Grandma said. “I know you want to get over to the shop, but it’s early yet.”

  Truck noises retreated down the alleyway. Nicole’s grandmother hung her dish towel on a bar over the sink and squirted lotion onto her hands from the bottle on the counter. A wide smile stretched her lips. “I think I’ll go back to bed for a while and join you at the shop later.” The woman stretched and left the room with a sprightly tread.

  Nicole gazed after her, frowning. Grandma was way too happy about something. Did she think the garbage bag had been taken by the city truck? If so, where was the bag when Nicole looked for it last night? Had someone removed it from the trash bin after Grandma Jan put it in there and before Nicole went outside? A tiny shiver shook her.

  Whoever had disposed of that infant’s remains could still be in the community. Were they watching the house? That person might do anything to keep from being exposed.

  A few ticks before 8:00 a.m., Rich pulled his SUV into the alley outside the Keller home with Derek Hanson—a young, rookie cop, but a sharp one—in the passenger seat. Behind him, Terry’s black-and-white cruised to a halt. The little Ford on the parking pad by the garage was just backing up. The car halted, and Nicole got out, staring at the police vehicles.

  Rich stepped toward her and pulled a pair of documents from the pocket of his uniform shirt. “We’ve got warrants to search the Keller home and the shop.”

  A tentative smile morphed into a scowl. Nicole waved toward the house. “Grandma’s barely stirring, and I was just headed for the shop. What in the world do you expect to find?” Dressed in tan slacks and a print blouse, she came around her car and stopped in front of Rich. Her lips were pressed into a tight line as if restraining herself from saying more.

  He gazed into her shuttered face. “The remains were found on Keller property. The judge agreed it would be due diligence to conduct a thorough search of the premises.”

  “But why the shop, too?” She put her hands on her slender waist.

  The other officers flanked him. Terry stuck his thumbs in his belt and rocked back on the heels of his cowboy boots. “Mornin’, Nicole. We got a job to do. I’m glad we caught you home.”

  The inflection on I’m suggested a personal interest without strictly flirting. Rich shot the man a sharp look. Then he turned toward Nicole.

  “The fabric from Jan’s store plays into the case. I know it’s a long shot, but that baby deserves every chance for justice.”

  Her gaze softened. “I agree. My heart bleeds for that child…for the parents. We need to find out who did this, but I don’t want—” She halted and licked her lips, a wordless dread flickering in her deep brown eyes.

  Rich’s gut clenched. She had to have picked up on the fact that her grandmother was hiding something. That put her in a bad predicament—torn between compassion for the dead infant and fear for the fate of her living grandmother.

  The deputies moved off toward the back door. Nicole’s expression firmed. Scowling, she darted in front of them.

  “Hold it!” She put up a forestalling hand. “I won’t have you barging in on Grandma Jan. I’ll go get her.”

  “We’ll accompany you,” Rich said evenly. “But, yes, you can let her know we’re here.”

  “You might have told me last night that you were planning this,” she shot back.

  Terry sent him a startled look that Rich chose to ignore.

  Nicole marched up the sidewalk ahead of them. Striding beside him, Terry’s gaze was glued to her swaying hips. Rich jostled his shoulder, and the man answered with a slick grin. Rich frowned him down. What the guy did off duty was one thing, but they were on the clock. Never mind that he didn’t like anyone eyeing a class act like Nicole with such sleazy eyes.

  They went into the Keller house. The kitchen was neat and clean, and smelled like bacon. Rich’s stomach muttered a complaint. He hadn’t felt like eating much breakfast this morning. He’d known this search was going to give him a major black eye with Nicole.

  “Grandma,” she called as they neared a doorway. “We have visitors.” The way she spat the last word, she might as well have said intruders.

  “Oh, really? Who, dear?” The older woman stepped out of her room, dressed in casual pants and a button-up shirt, and pulling a brush through her thinning white hair. Her eyes grew big, and then she smiled. “I suppose you’re here to search. We’ll get out of your way.”

  Rich narrowed his eyes. Janet Keller was as chipper today as she’d been obstructive yesterday. Had he already missed the boat on discovering evidence? If so, then Jan not only knew something about the dead child, she had deliberately destroyed evidence. Rich’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t been able to get in touch with Judge Christy for the warrant before this morning. Yes, he might have tried Judge Becker last night, but he’d just as soon leave Simon Elling’s crony as far out of this case as he could.

  Nicole and her grandmother went outside, and he and his deputies got to work. A couple of fruitless hours later, he stepped out to find the women seated at the small porch table sharing coffee and donuts from a convenience store down the street.

  Nicole avoided his gaze, but Jan beamed at him. “What did you find?” She nodded toward the yellowed newspaper clippings he held in his hand.

  “Nothing I plan to take along. I’ve got copies of these and more in my file back at the office. I thought Nicole might find them of interest.”

  Nicole accepted the sheaf of clippings. “What are they?”

  “You can draw your own conclusions. We found them in a trunk in the attic.”

  Unfortunately, there was nothing incriminating about an older resident of the area hanging on to news clippings about the kidnapping. It was the most sensational event to happen in the area since the railroad came through. Reading those ought to enlighten Nicole.

  Terry and Derek clomped down the porch steps. Terry threw one of his lady-killer smiles toward Nicole. If she saw the look, she didn’t respond. Good for her.

  “We’re heading for the shop now,” Rich said.

  “Wait!” Nicole lunged from her seat. “I’ll go with you to unlock the door.”

  “I was going to ask for a key, not use a crowbar.”

  She sniffed and turned toward her grandmother. “Just hang tight until I get back. We’ll straighten the mess together.”

  “Mess?” Jan blinked.

  “Cleaning up after themselves is not in search protocol.”

  The woman responded with a faint “oh,” and Nicole headed for her car.

  Rich followed her down the steps and caught up with his deputies.

  “Feisty, ain’t she,” Terry said out of the corner of his mouth. “That’s the best kind.”

  “Don’t push my buttons today, Bender.”

  “Okay, Chief. But I was just sayin’…” With an elaborate shrug, he got into his car.

  Rich followed Nicole’s little Ford into the alley behind the shop that was located on the corner of Ellington’s brief main street. He stopped his vehicle beside hers. Without a word, she unlocked the back door and stepped aside while he and his deputies went in. She’d admitted him into a combination storeroom and workroom. A sewing machine, a dressmaker’s dummy, and a table laden with bolts of fabric, scissors, measuring tape and other utensils sat on one side of the area. The other end of the long room was occupied by stacks of boxes.

  Nicole poked her head inside. “I guarantee you won’t find anything. I’ve been cleaning and sorting and throwing since I got here—practic
ally over my grandmother’s dead body.” She stopped on a little gasp. “Poor choice of words.” She paused. “Anyway, the boxes contain old financial records. I doubt my grandmother ever threw away a slip of paper. If those trip your trigger, go for it.” She closed the door just shy of a slam.

  Chest tightening, Rich turned toward the stacked banker’s boxes. If the ransom from the kidnapping was laundered through the shop, he could be staring at the evidence.

  An hour later, they finished going through the store without finding anything else of interest. He loaded his deputies down with boxes of the shop’s financial records. Amazing that anyone kept records so far back, but his search of the Keller house had proven that Jan was a pack rat of the first order. That attic must still contain every toy that her son, Henry, Nicole’s father, ever played with. There was an impressive box of baseball cards, too. When this case was over, he might clue Nicole in that her grandmother could be sitting on a gold mine in those, as well as the antique toys.

  They stepped out the door, and Rich spotted Nicole perched on the hood of her car in the shade of the building. She was reading the yellowed news articles.

  “You stuck around?” he said.

  She hopped up. “The shop isn’t big. I figured it wouldn’t take you long, and then I could inspect the damage.”

  “I’m sorry we have to pull things apart like that, but—”

  “I know. It’s your job.” She waved the sheaf of clippings. “This is a tragic story.”

  “Very.” He didn’t add that the Ellings’ legacy of sorrow seemed to be passed from one generation to the next—mostly self-inflicted.

  “Looks like you decided those old records are of interest.” She nodded toward the two boxes he carried and the ones his deputies were loading in the back of the SUV.

  “Just taking another long shot.” He smiled at her.

  She smiled back. Not very big and a bit ruefully, but the minor thaw sent his pulse trip-hammering. What might a full-blown grin from her do to his insides? As he stowed his boxes in the SUV, he prayed that he never had to arrest Jan Keller and rob himself forever of the chance to find out.

  Nicole spent a few minutes inspecting the inside of the shop. Most of the mess consisted of things pulled out of place, and the stock would need to be reshelved. She could set things to rights today, and they could probably open up again tomorrow. First, she needed to head home and check on Grandma. She didn’t trust that woman not to be doing more than she should to restore order to the house. Nicole locked the back door of the shop and climbed into her car.

  On the drive home, a pair of compassionate hazel eyes haunted her. It had really bothered Rich to intrude on their lives, but he’d performed his job thoroughly and professionally. He was the kind of cop who took his oath to protect and to serve seriously. The young cop hadn’t said a word, but his demeanor had been respectful toward her and his boss. That over-the-hill peacock, Terry Bender, was another story. He was the dime-a-dozen kind that enjoyed issuing tickets, harassing people and wowing the ladies with his authority. And for some reason, he resented Rich. Did he think he should be the chief? Heaven help Ellington if that ever happened!

  A few minutes later, Nicole stepped into a silent house. “Grandma, where are you?” Her call went unanswered.

  Did her grandmother go to the store for something? Nicole walked into the living room. Papers were strewn everywhere, and furniture was out of place. Thankfully, her grandmother hadn’t attempted to put things back by herself. She called out again. A faint noise overhead brought an exasperated puff of breath.

  Grandma had started in the attic. Not the order she would have done things, but her grandmother had always been protective of that eclectic collection of junk up there. What a relief that Rich and his deputies hadn’t found anything incriminating in their search of her memorabilia. If there’d been anything to find, Nicole would have guessed it to be up there or in her grandmother’s room—that is, if she hadn’t already disposed of whatever it was.

  Nicole climbed to the second floor then headed up the hall toward the open attic door. Another scrape from above quickened her steps. “Grandma, you stop trying to move things around by yourself. I’m coming.”

  She was going to have a heart-to-heart with that woman. This was not a situation for her grandmother to try to hide anything she knew—regardless of who she might be protecting. Even if it was herself.

  The scent of hot dust greeted Nicole as she climbed high enough to poke her head above the hardwood floor. The mess up here didn’t look all that much different than before the search. Towers of boxes and jumbles of toys and discarded household items lay everywhere. Dust motes danced in the humid air in front of the nearest dormer window. “Grandma?”

  She reached the top of the stairs. A movement caught the corner of her eye, and she started to turn, but a heavy weight of fabric descended over her, choking sound and cutting off sight. A shove sent her into the nearest cluster of junk. She tripped, her scream muffled, and hit the floor hard. Unseen objects poked viciously into her chest and side. Things tumbled around her, striking her back and legs.

  Heart hammering against her ribs, Nicole fought the suffocating blanket as footsteps thudded down the stairs. At last her flailing arms succeeded in throwing off the covering. It was an old, ragged quilt that used to grace her grandmother’s bed when Nicole would visit as a child. Nicole sat up sharply. Where was her grandmother?

  Ignoring aches and abrasions, Nicole grasped the edge of an open trunk and hauled herself to her feet. She stared around, panting, but didn’t see anyone. Had the burglar done something with Grandma Jan? Or maybe Grandma walked somewhere and wasn’t home when someone entered.

  Please, God, let that be so.

  Nicole needed to get to a phone right away and call for help. She turned toward the stairs, but a tumbled stack of junk blocked her path. She’d have to find a different way to the exit. An opening to her left beckoned, and she followed it. Her feet struck a soft object, and she halted.

  She looked down, and a scream rent her throat. Nicole’s grandmother sprawled facedown and motionless. A pool of deep crimson haloed her white head.

  FIVE

  The ambulance call blared through Rich’s car radio. He turned on the siren, cramped the wheel, and did a U-turn at the end of Ellington’s main street. Lunch with the downtown crowd hit the bottom of the priority list. He could schmooze and gauge community reaction to the discovery of a baby’s remains later.

  Someone unconscious and unresponsive at the Keller home? Who? Jan…or Nicole? Bile burned its way up Rich’s windpipe.

  He slammed to a stop near the telltale trench and leaped from his vehicle while the SUV swayed on its springs. Once again, he was first on the scene, though an ambulance siren had begun to wail in the distance. The back doorknob responded to his touch, and he stepped into the kitchen calling Nicole’s name.

  “Up here” came a faint response.

  Warm relief loosened Rich’s muscles. Nicole wasn’t injured then. Jan must be the victim. Had the recent excitement given her a heart attack? Maybe guilt had done that.

  Rich took the stairs two at a time. Moments later, he poked his head into the attic and saw no one, just tornado-strewn mess. Boy, they really had done a job on this place.

  “Nicole?”

  “Behind the boxes.” Her tone leaked tears.

  Picking his way through the junk, Rich rounded a corner. Nicole knelt by the prone form of her grandmother, pressing a red-stained towel to the woman’s head.

  Rich stepped closer. “Did she fall?”

  “Pushed maybe. Or struck with something. I don’t know.” Nicole’s gaze never left her grandmother. “We had an intruder. He shoved me down, too.”

  Electricity jolted through Rich. Someone had attacked both women? “Did you get a look at him?”

  Nicole shook her head. “He threw a quilt over my head from behind before he tossed me into a pile of junk. Grandma might have seen him, but she�
�s—” A sob left her throat. “She doesn’t look good.”

  Nicole was right. Jan Keller’s face had lost all color, and her breathing was shallow at best. The ambulance siren wailed up the street outside.

  “Help is here,” he said. “You’re doing the right thing for the bleeding. Let me look around quick for some sort of weapon before the EMTs crowd in.”

  Nicole lifted her head and met his gaze. Her reddened eyes brimmed with trust and gratitude. “You’ll catch whoever did this.”

  Rich’s insides melted. He’d go after any monster to see that look on her face again. Clearing his throat, he let his gaze roam the stuffy cave beneath the rafters. Yesterday’s search and today’s scuffle rendered hope of finding clear footprints on the dusty floor useless.

  He stepped this way and that, peering over and around objects. This incident could be a common burglary, but what kind of burglar strikes in the daytime? Had a baby killer been stirred to action? Anyone who would kidnap and kill an infant wouldn’t balk at a senior citizen. Did the perp come here to silence Jan Keller? Or were they looking for something and Jan interrupted them? Did they find what they wanted? Had Rich’s search team overlooked something significant this morning? Questions pummeled him.

  Voices came from below. Rich called to the emergency crew and feet sounded on the stairs. He turned another corner. A baseball bat lay on top of a pile of books, like someone had tossed it there. Wet red smears on the end that would normally connect with a ball suggested that it had recently connected with something—or someone—else.

  Calm EMTs’ voices mingled with Nicole’s agitated tones. Equipment snapped and rattled as medical jargon batted back and forth. A soft sob from Nicole called his feet to return to her and offer a pair of strong arms. Duty sent his hand to his belt radio.

  “Terry, you got a copy? Where are you?”

  “Here with Nicole. Where are you?”

  The deputy’s voice came through the radio and into Rich’s ears from a few feet away. He was with Nicole? Leave it to Terry to hover near a beautiful woman. But at least the guy was on top of the case. He’d probably heard the location of the ambulance call and come a’ running on instinct just like his chief. Good cop work. Then why did Rich feel so irritated?