by Dana Corbit
“In a few months, that glass would have flown all over the baby’s car seat.” Again, her hands moved to her belly, suggesting her instinct to protect her unborn child.
“We’re going to figure out who’s doing this, Kelly.”
His assurances sounded flat in his ears. He’d arrested Lindsay Morrow more than a year before for murder and for the arson of the Tiny Blessings office. They had every reason to believe this craziness would have ended with her arrest, but it was clear that someone else—or maybe a few someone elses—had something to hide.
“Then you’d better get to work, Detective.” She indicated with her hand her husband and the beat cop standing next to the damaged SUV.
With a wave, he hurried over to the other men. “Okay, what do we have so far?”
“We have an opportunity for me to buy a new windshield,” Ross answered in a clipped voice.
“Yeah, Ross, I’m sorry about your ride. I’m sure insurance will—” Zach stopped himself because he knew the private investigator’s frustration had nothing to do with something as replaceable as a vehicle. It was about a man’s need to protect his family and how emasculating it was to realize he couldn’t.
“There was a note,” Ross said finally.
Zach nodded. “Officer Merritt mentioned it when he called.”
“Do you want to see it?” Steve Merritt held up a clear plastic bag with the note inside.
The department would compare the note to the threatening letters sent to Richmond Gazette reporter Jared Kierney and the one that Kelly received at the Fourth of July celebration. They would also dust the paper for fingerprints, but Zach knew already they wouldn’t find anything they could use.
Whoever was writing these messages had done his homework about not getting caught. In fact, the letter looked like something right out of a TV police drama because it wasn’t even written by hand but rather was formed by separate letters cut out from magazines.
Stop looking for trouble, or it just might find you.
At the end of the note was a sales brochure picture of a .40-caliber semiautomatic pistol, just like the one Zach carried in his shoulder holster. The note didn’t say more; it didn’t have to. The implied threat spoke as loudly as the one formed in glossy magazine lettering.
Ross’s jaw visibly tightened as he stared at the note. Zach could imagine how he would feel if someone had threatened Pilar or the children.
Because it didn’t help any of them for him to dwell on thoughts that could cripple any family man, Zach focused on the case at hand. “Can you tell me how long your vehicle was parked on Main Street? I’d like to get an estimated time when the crime could have occurred.”
Officer Merritt answered for Ross, looking down at his notes. “That’s the problem, Detective. Like about half of the people in Chestnut Grove, the Van Zandts were at the church carnival most of the day. They parked on Main and walked to the church just after lunch and didn’t return again until just before the fireworks finale at around nine-thirty.”
Zach nodded, taking in the information. “Well, we can rule out the daylight hours, or someone on this street would have noticed the baseball bat or the sledgehammer, not to mention the noise.” After the last, he turned back to the young police officer. “Have you canvassed the neighborhood in case someone heard something?”
“Just ten minutes ahead of you in getting here,” Office Merritt said with a shrug. “I was still on the initial interview.”
“Oh, right.” Zach thought for a minute. “But were there any calls to the station about loud glass-breaking?”
The police officer shook his head. “Not as far as I’ve been told.”
The comment, though not definitive, started the wheels in Zach’s thoughts turning. “Okay, let’s assume for now that no one else did call in a report. That could mean that no one was home to hear the glass shattering because it would be almost impossible to do damage like that in silence.”
Zach indicated the gaping hole in the middle of the windshield. “Another possibility would be that the suspect or suspects timed their vandalism to the fireworks show to cover the noise.”
Officer Merritt picked up the idea and ran with it. “That would mean that the vandal knew when the fireworks display was scheduled.”
Ross didn’t disappoint as a former police officer and a current P.I. “And that could mean the suspect either worked with the fireworks company or was privy to its schedule.”
“Or more likely yet,” Kelly began, waiting for the men to turn to where she now stood, “they read the carnival schedule. It was printed in yesterday’s Richmond Gazette.”
Officer Merritt groaned, and Zach couldn’t help but agree with him. Every time Zach thought he had a handle on this investigation, every time he had a good lead, something came along to shoot it down. And every time he failed to make the connections that would lead to an arrest or multiple arrests, he allowed these suspects to continue staging their campaign of fear.
Zach decided to keep his other theory to himself until he’d asked a lot more questions. For weeks, he’d been suspecting that a member or members of one of Chestnut Grove’s prominent families might be responsible for this newest round of threats and crimes. The Nobles, the Harcourts, the Matthewses—they all seemed to have skeletons in their closets. What he needed to find out was whether any of their secrets involved unplanned pregnancies and cover-ups for a price.
Ross moved over to his wife and settled an arm around her waist. “You’re supposed to be sitting down.”
“You think I could sit with all this going on?” Kelly asked.
Zach looked back and forth between two of the people who’d sacrificed so much time and effort to right some of Barnaby Harcourt’s wrongs at Tiny Blessings.
“Have you considered letting your investigation cool for a while?” Zach asked.
Both of them shook their heads emphatically.
“And let whoever’s doing this win?” Kelly said.
“No, not letting them win.” Zach held his hands wide in a plea for understanding. “You could put your investigation of the records on hold until our department has completed its investigation and made an arrest. Kelly, you could even begin your maternity leave a little early, letting Eric Pellegrino keep the office running for you.”
Kelly waited several seconds before she answered. “Sorry. I can’t.”
Zach had known that answer was coming, but he had to try. “It would just be for a short while.”
“What if you never make an arrest?” Ross asked for himself and his wife.
Zach had to admit Ross had a point. No matter how much effort he put into solving the case, even at the expense of his home life, there was no guarantee his efforts would pay off in an arrest, let alone a conviction.
Kelly shook her head again. “Don’t you understand, Zach? These people who’ve had their adoption records doctored are the victims here. They don’t know about the deceit or the payoffs surrounding their births or about the teenage mothers who were sometimes forced to give them up. Now if you were one of these victims, would you want us to wait another week or even a day to tell you the truth?”
There was a point in a disagreement where one side had to admit defeat, and Zach realized he’d reached it. The Van Zandts were as driven in their efforts to help these victims as he was in his mission to protect them and others. However, before he waved a white flag on the discussion and waited with them for the tow truck to arrive, he offered the best warning he could.
“You two remember how far Lindsay Morrow was willing to go to keep her husband’s secrets, don’t you?”
Since no one responded, Officer Merritt filled in the blank for them all. “She killed Barnaby Harcourt. And she tried to kill you, too, Kelly.” Then the side of his mouth lifted grimly. “But you all already knew that.”
“Yeah,” Ross said.
Of course, the Van Zandts knew all about the murder of Tiny Blessings’ founder. Kelly was already executive dire
ctor of the agency during that dark period, and Ross had been searching for answers among those boxes of doctored records for nearly as long.
“Message received,” Ross said stoically.
Zach nodded, resigned. He wished he could convince them to step back, but, like him, they were doing what they had to do. They understood the risks they were taking and considered them necessary. He didn’t bother telling the couple that their dedication to their cause, though admirable, only made it harder for him and the rest of the police department to conduct their investigations.
Either way, Zach still planned to do his job, and he had every intention of bringing down whoever was threatening the people associated with Tiny Blessings. He could only hope that he got to the suspects before they made good on their threats.
“Well, was it worth the wait?” Alex indicated with a sweep of his hand their softly lit surroundings in Chez René.
“Absolutely.” Dinah hadn’t yet sampled a bite of the Coquilles St. Jacques, a scallop appetizer that she’d suggested as an alternative to his offer of escargots, or snails, let alone her entrée of coq au vin, and she’d already determined that this date was perfect. But that declaration had as much to do with the company as with the ambience.
Dinah allowed her gaze a slow stroll about the room, taking in the crisp, white tablecloths, round-globed candles and water goblets of delicate blown glass. She’d seen this place before in her best dreams. Either her dreams were generic or he’d done an amazing job of selecting a place that matched those candlelit imaginings.
Her gaze moved back to the man sitting across the table from her and lingered. She’d seen him wearing his casual clothes, his crisp firefighter’s uniform and even all of his gear, but in this well-tailored dark suit and shirt and tie in coordinating shades of royal blue, he looked amazing. The fact didn’t go unnoticed by two waitresses who’d found a lot to whisper about since they’d arrived. Alex hadn’t seemed to notice the fanfare.
A soft murmur of voices and movement in the shadows suggested the presence of other patrons at the French restaurant, but as it had on the Ferris wheel, it felt as if they were the only two people in the room. Dinah realized now that they could have been in one of the long lines at Paramount’s Kings Dominion Amusement Park waiting to ride the Anaconda or the Hypersonic XLC, and she would still feel as if the two of them were alone.
Because that truth made her nervous, Dinah brushed her hands on her skirt and grasped for a topic that might lighten the mood between them. “It was nice seeing you and the children at church this morning. What did you think?”
Alex chewed and swallowed the bite of dinner roll he’d taken before he answered. “I was glad Reverend Fraser made it easy on me, preaching on how God’s people prevailed, bringing down the walls of Jericho. Your dad could have made me squirm in my seat by preaching about lukewarm Christians or something.”
“He saved that sermon for next week,” she said with a chuckle. “He’ll preach on Revelation 3:16: ‘So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.’”
“Leave it to you to know that one.” He laughed with her. “Boy, am I looking forward to that sermon.”
“So why did you finally decide to try out our Sunday services, anyway?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Don’t you know? I was trying to get on the minister’s good side since I’m dating his daughter.”
“Is that all?” She couldn’t decide whether to be happy or disappointed. Was it enough that he wanted to be there for her? Was his spiritual health so unimportant to her?
Her conflict must have shown in her expression because he waved away his earlier comment. “Just kidding. There are a lot of reasons we came this morning. The church members have been great to us. Eli told me to give the place a try. Brandon and Chelsea have made so many friends in the youth group, and they didn’t really have a church they attended before.”
He shook his head to delay her when she started to respond. “Even those were just part of the reason. The truth is that I’ve finally decided it’s time to get involved in church again.”
“I thought you already had a church home.”
“Just ask the kids. My attendance record isn’t exactly stellar, even since they’ve been living with me.” He shrugged. “I thought if we found a church where we all felt comfortable, it would be easier for us to make a habit of attending every Sunday.”
“Sounds reasonable.” The seed of sadness in her contradicted her earlier thoughts, proving just what a self-centered woman she was. She stared down at her bread plate and concentrated on buttering a hard roll.
“I went for all the right reasons. Really. We want to be in fellowship with other Christians to do God’s work. So you’re not going to hold it against me that I’m enjoying the fringe benefit of spending extra time with the preacher’s daughter, are you?”
Alex wore a knowing smile when she looked up at him from the table. He understood her weakness when it came to him, and he didn’t seem to mind. Reaching for her hand across the table, he squeezed it but didn’t release it as she expected he would.
She stared at their laced fingers. “Time with the preacher’s daughter? A fringe benefit? It really doesn’t matter to you, does it?”
“Why should it matter?”
“Maybe it shouldn’t, but it mattered to every guy I’ve ever dated.”
“I’m not every guy.”
He wasn’t. That couldn’t have been more obvious in her head and, surprisingly, in her heart.
For a few minutes the two of them sat in silence as the warmth between them spoke louder than any words ever could. His thumb moved back and forth across her knuckles in a gentle, mesmerizing rhythm until she could think of nothing but the wonderful feel of his touch.
When the waiter arrived with their appetizer, she hated having to let go. She had bitten into her delicious scallops when he spoke up again.
“Every guy you’ve dated. Were there a lot of those?”
Dinah choked, coughing into her napkin several times before she could speak. “No, not many.” She was tempted to believe he might be jealous but found it safer to think he was just interested.
“My father usually intimidated them. The guys thought they had to have proper intentions. How many guys do you know who are willing to date a woman knowing they should be thinking of marriage right off the bat?”
Her breath caught as she realized what she’d just revealed.
But Alex only laughed. “Then I take it there weren’t a lot of serious ones?”
“One. Bill.” She cleared her throat. “I dated him for six months and thought he might be the one. The pressure of my family’s expectations plus family gatherings, holidays and weekly Sunday services must have gotten to him because he bolted.”
Bill’s parting comment that committing to the preacher’s daughter would be like marrying the whole church still stung as much now as it had then.
“He was an idiot.”
She shrugged. “Not an idiot. Just not right for me.”
“You were a much nicer person than he deserved.”
She didn’t know about that, but it warmed her that Alex thought so. “What about you? Did you have someone special back in Richmond?”
“Not really. I dated but no one seriously. Because I’d had in my parents a good example of a strong marriage, I didn’t want to have a serious relationship until I was ready for it. A few years ago I thought it might be time, but I lost my parents, and then…” He stopped and took a drink of his water. “That was a roundabout way of answering your question, but no, there was no one in Richmond.”
Dinah recognized the last as a clever attempt to lighten his comment, but she wasn’t biting. “Tell me, Alex, what happened after your parents died. This is the second time you’ve hinted at it. Maybe it would make you feel better if you talked about it.”
Alex stiffened, at once frustrated with himself for bringing it up again and relieved to
be forced to face it. “I found my adoption records.”
“I didn’t know you were adopted.”
“Until recently, that made two of us.”
At first her expression registered confusion, but her face was transformed as her eyes widened. “You never knew?”
“I guess my parents didn’t think I’d want to know.”
“Or they couldn’t find the right time to tell you.”
Alex frowned at her. “This coming from the same woman who just defended the man who dumped her.”
Dinah only shook her head. “Please, don’t make a joke out of this. You had to be so angry and hurt when you found out your parents had hidden the truth.”
Alex wished he could say it didn’t matter, that he understood, but he couldn’t and he didn’t. “What can you say about finding out something that made you question your family, your faith, everything?”
She drew her eyebrows together, appearing to ponder what he’d said. “I can see how it would make you question your parents, but why did you question your faith?”
“Just as they were the best example I had of a lasting relationship, my parents were my best examples of true Christians. If they could have such a strong faith and then think it was all right to keep a secret like that—a lie of omission as far as I’m concerned—then maybe everything I believed—”
“Oh, Alex, you didn’t forget, did you?”
He frowned at her. “Forget what?”
“That churches are full of sinners—your parents included. From the pulpit to the rear doors to the office where the trustees count the offering, churches are chock-full of sinners. Only God’s grace makes the difference.”
“I know that.” And he did in his head. It just wasn’t as easy to accept in his heart where his anger was entrenched better than a platoon of soldiers in a weeklong battle. “I realize my parents were human. I just wish they’d told me. Earlier. Later. Sometime.”