Storm of Secrets

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Storm of Secrets Page 23

by Loretta Marion


  “I hate that their jobs are making everything so thorny.”

  “They’ll work it out.” He rubbed his hands together. “So what have you come up with for the workers to do?”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  His hands were now resting on his hips. “What?”

  “I thought they could load up all those boxes of antiquated files you’ve been talking about tossing. Then you can take them to be shredded.” I smiled sweetly to take the sting out.

  He wiped a hand across his face and narrowed his eyes, casting a glance toward the barn and then back at me.

  “I guess it is time to shed some of that baggage,” he said. “Let me go take a quick look to make sure nothing important gets tossed.”

  Not five minutes later, a sports car rounded the bend of the lane. A Jaguar? When it pulled to a stop, I had to smile. Brooks could issue an order to prevent Laura from crashing the lineup, but there was nothing to prevent Edgar and Jimmy from making an impromptu visit. As happy as I was to see them, their timing couldn’t have been more inconvenient.

  “New wheels?” I called out to them.

  Edgar made a face and pointed a thumb in Jimmy’s direction. “This one just had to get a Jag.”

  Edgar came from old money and all the sensible, practical choices that went along with it. Jimmy, on the other hand, was looser with his husband’s purse strings.

  “Come now, Edgar. You know you love it.” Jimmy leaned in, air-kissing me near both cheeks. “Muah, muah. Hello, Miss Cassandra.”

  “I love the car,” I whispered in his ear. “You’ll have to take me for a spin.”

  I then turned and gave Edgar a hug. “You know you love to spoil him.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Edgar made a face of mock annoyance.

  “What wind blew you to The Bluffs?”

  “Certainly not a cool breeze,” Jimmy fanned himself. “This heat wave is ridiculous.”

  “I’m returning these materials to Christopher.” Edgar lifted a cloth book bag from the car.

  “Were they helpful?”

  “Indeed. I gleaned some interesting and surprising facts from these documents.” He glanced toward the carriage house. “Is he here?”

  “I saw him leave about an hour ago with Gypsy. He won’t be gone much longer in this heat and humidity.” At least I was hoping he’d be back soon. Otherwise our whole improvised lineup plan was certain to fail. “Would you like for me to give these to him? That way you won’t have to hang around.”

  “Actually, I also wanted to ask him something,” Edgar said. “Do you mind if we wait?”

  “Of course not. How about something cold to drink?” I motioned for them to follow me inside, but Jimmy plopped down on a porch rocker and Edgar followed suit. Oh well. “Tea? Lemonade? Champagne? We have plenty left over from the wedding that wasn’t.”

  “Ooh, how decadent. I’ll have a mimosa!” Jimmy said with glee.

  Edgar lifted a shoulder and said, “When in Rome.”

  My two friends weren’t going anywhere soon. I’d try to keep them distracted, and perhaps they wouldn’t pay any mind to the men as they arrived. There was only an indirect view of the barn door from the porch, and the rockers faced straight out to the Cape.

  When I returned with the filled flutes, fizzing with bubbly, we clinked our glasses, and Edgar said, “To the enduring mysteries of The Bluffs.”

  I was about to ask how his new book was coming along, when we heard a caravan of vehicles drive up.

  “We hired some guys for a small project in the barn,” I explained before they could ask.

  I had a better vantage point from the porch swing and counted four workers along with Brooks, who was out of uniform. They were huddled around the barn door when an SUV pulled up. I was surprised to see it was Matthew Kleister.

  Edgar craned his neck to get a look at what was going on and said, “Oh, is that Christopher now?”

  “No,” I told him. “Christopher doesn’t wear glasses. It’s Matthew Kleister, Lucas’s father.”

  “Such an amazing story.” Jimmy held his hand to his heart. “And so fortunate.”

  Edgar took his glasses off to polish them with a handkerchief and then had a second look.

  I started to wonder if our lodger was going to show. It would muddle up everything if he didn’t arrive soon. “Excuse me for just one minute,” I said to Edgar and Jimmy. “I forgot to tell the workers something. Be right back.”

  “We’ll be right here.” Jimmy looked content, sipping his mimosa while gazing out at the stunning view. But I felt Edgar’s curious gaze at my back.

  As I walked over to join Brooks and Matthew, I passed the Kleisters’s Porsche SUV. The windows were closed and the motor running to keep the AC going, but I spied Nicholas’s little head in the back seat, bent over one of those handheld gaming devices.

  “Hi again,” I said to Matthew.

  “The brownies were a hit. I couldn’t persuade the boys to wait.” He smiled, then went on to explain, “Nicholas wanted to see Christopher again before we leave.”

  “Heading back to Boston?” I asked.

  He nodded, not noticing Brooks’s head shoot up in surprise.

  “Anyhow, my son kept pestering.” He raised his hands in a defeated gesture.

  “Christopher will be glad to see him,” I assured him.

  Brooks surprised me with his next suggestion.

  “Maybe you should come into the barn and wait where it’s not so hot,” he said to Matthew, who looked at the car where Nicholas was waiting.

  Brooks raised his brows at me, then glanced toward the car. I took my cue, though I didn’t know what the play was. “Why don’t I take Nicholas to the house for a nice cold drink?”

  Matthew hesitated. “Sure. That’s fine, I guess.” Though he didn’t seem fine about it at all, he opened the SUV door and turned off the engine. He then asked his son, “Do you remember Miss Cassie?”

  Nicholas nodded, which was a relief to both his father and me.

  “She’s going to give you something cold to drink,” Matthew said, smiling encouragingly.

  “Let’s have some lemonade,” I said, reaching out my hand. Nicholas unstrapped himself and came with me willingly.

  “Great,” Brooks said and patted Matthew on the back, guiding him into the barn while I escorted Nicholas toward the house. He’d be a wonderful distraction for Edgar and Jimmy while the whole sting operation went down out in the barn.

  “Well, hello little man,” Jimmy said when we got to the porch, making a clown-like face and grinning broadly, provoking a bashful smile from the little boy.

  Nicholas followed me into the house. As I poured his glass of lemonade, I watched out the kitchen window as another car pulled up. This time it was Jason and the young man who I’d seen with Tyler Stendall at Cap’t Cass’s last evening. Zach Renner looked around cautiously as Jason ushered him into the barn. This had all been choreographed beautifully except for one missing character: Christopher Savage.

  “My, this is an active little scene,” Jimmy said as I popped out to offer the two men a refill on their mimosas.

  “Yes, indeed,” Edgar agreed. He opened his mouth to say something else but was stopped when one last person made an appearance.

  This time it was Wes Creed, who, I’d almost forgotten, had a role in all this. He swaggered over to the porch.

  “Hello, Miz Mitchell.” He dipped his head and offered a charming smile. Nobody could deny he was attractive, in a bad-boy kind of way.

  Remembering my manners, I offered the introductions, first turning to my friends and explaining, “Do you two know Wes Creed? He works on the docks with Daniel.” Then I turned to Wes. “Edgar Faust and Jimmy Collins.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Jimmy said while Edgar took a hard look at the man, probably recognizing him from the other night when he’d reported an altercation between Wes and Christopher Savage.

  “Gentlemen.” Wes touched the
bill of his Red Sox ball cap. He slowly turned back to me. “Daniel sent me out to take a look at your little Queenie.”

  I cringed at his cavalier use of my pet name for the Cat. “Yes, he told me you’d be here.”

  The screen door whacked behind me, and I turned to see Nicholas standing frozen to the spot, eyes fixed on Wes.

  “Hey there, Nicky boy,” Wes said playfully.

  But Nicholas didn’t respond. In fact, he appeared to be trembling, and I wondered what it was about Wes Creed that frightened him.

  “You’ll find the tools you need in the barn,” I told Wes, remembering that the priority was to get him over there. “Near the back there’s a workbench. Daniel’s out there now—he can show you.”

  Wes held my gaze for an uncomfortable moment. Before turning on his heels, he had one parting comment. “You be a good boy, Nicky, you hear?”

  After Wes Creed sauntered away, Edgar cleared his throat, prompting me to look in his direction. He jutted his head toward Nicholas, who was now standing in a puddle of pee.

  The three of us shifted into high gear. I took Nicholas inside for a quick wash and found some cropped exercise tights that fit him like loose pants.

  “These will do for now, don’t ya think?” I handwashed his shorts and undies before throwing them into the dryer, all the while sharing some of the more memorable awkward moments of my own childhood, hoping to take the sting out of his accident.

  The tale that finally brought a giggle was about the time I got trapped in a cat briar bush for hours until Granny Fi tracked me down. “My long braids had gotten so entangled in the briars, the only way my Granny could free me was to chop off my hair down to the scalp. You can imagine the reaction of all my classmates when I showed up at school the next day nearly bald.”

  When we returned to the porch, Edgar and Jimmy had hosed off all traces of the incident and had prepared a plate of PBJs. Of course, with Jimmy, nothing was ordinary. He’d found my cookie cutters and had cleverly cut the sandwiches into adorable animal shapes.

  “We thought you might want to join us for a snack,” Edgar said with a wink.

  “Would you like milk with that?” Jimmy asked, to which the boy shyly nodded.

  I followed him into the kitchen and asked, “Can you keep an eye on our little friend for a minute?”

  “A pleasure.” He poured a glass of milk, then spied a package of Oreos, which he plucked from the pantry. “Cookie magic for the wee one.”

  How lucky was I that Jimmy and Edgar had appeared today like two fairy godfathers? As I walked back outside, I spotted Brooks with Matthew Kleister and Christopher Savage, who must’ve arrived while I was inside with Nicholas.

  I was immediately struck at the sight of Matthew and Christopher together: both tall with slender builds, weathered tans, and short, sandy, graying hair—Christopher’s more tousled than Matthew’s. The fact that they were both wearing khaki shorts and white polo shirts only added to the striking likeness.

  No wonder Edgar had been confused. As if on cue, he sidled up to me and murmured, “I may have been mistaken about who was involved in that argument the other night.”

  “You should tell Brooks as soon he’s finished up here.” Though Brooks may easily have made the same deduction himself.

  “Indeed, I will.” He then asked, “What exactly has been going on out in your barn, Cassie?”

  “I wish I knew, Edgar.” It was the truth. I didn’t know the results of the staged lineup, though I was itching to find out which of the men, if any, Zach Renner had identified as being involved in a fight with Lee Chambers shortly before his death.

  “Did Nicholas say anything?” I asked.

  “A few giggles at Jimmy, but nothing more. Do you know what that was all about?” He tipped his head back toward the porch. “The little bladder accident?”

  “No, but I’m going to try to find out.”

  “How about Jimmy and I take a stroll to give you the opportunity to speak to the child?”

  I laid a hand on his arm. “That would be great, Edgar.”

  “Hey, Jimmy,” he called out as I walked toward the porch. “Come take a walk with me. I’d like to show you something.”

  “If we’re not back in an hour, send a search party,” Jimmy said in sotto voce as he passed me.

  I gave him a furtive thumbs-up and stepped onto the porch, where Nicholas was keeping a vigilant eye on his father and Christopher.

  “Have you had your fill of Oreos?” I asked, brushing away some chocolate crumbs from his chin.

  “Can I take some home to my brothers?” What a sweet older brother this little guy was.

  “You can have the whole package,” I told him, and his eyes popped open wide. “Speaking of your brothers, I bet you’re so happy to have Lucas home.”

  He bobbed his head spiritedly.

  “Can I ask you something, Nicholas?”

  He peered at me with suspicious eyes. I wasn’t the first adult this past stressful week who had tried to pry information from the little boy.

  “I was wondering, why don’t you like Mr. Creed?”

  He didn’t answer, so I tried again with a more direct approach. “Does he frighten you?”

  His began rocking side to side while sucking on his lower lip. I didn’t think he was going to answer until he finally looked at me and said, “He’s a bad man.”

  The simplicity of the statement, delivered in his small child voice, was chilling.

  “Why do you think he’s bad?”

  “Because.” A typical six-year-old’s response, I supposed.

  “Did he try to hurt you? Or Lucas?”

  “Can I talk to Christopher now?” he asked, still rocking.

  “Soon, honey.” Though I was dying to know what was going on in that little head, I was not going to pressure him into talking about it. Whatever it was. He’d been through quite enough these past few days.

  Matthew and Christopher started to slowly make their way toward the porch, deep in conversation.

  “Be right back,” I said to Nicholas and then hopped off the porch to meet them halfway. I wanted to give Matthew a heads-up about Nicholas’s accident to save the little guy from embarrassment. “His shorts should be dry before you take off.”

  “Oh, wow.” He frowned. “He’s too old for that to be happening.”

  I didn’t dare say anything about what prompted it until I’d had a chance to talk with Daniel or Brooks. Not to mention, Christopher was still standing there, and I had no idea about the outcome of the lineup and whether Zach had identified him as the person who’d fought with Lee Chambers before he was killed.

  “Nicholas is very eager to speak with Christopher,” I said instead.

  “Yes, I know,” Matthew answered, wearing the harried look of someone who was nearing the edge of what they could handle. He then walked to the porch and kneeled beside Nicholas. “Christopher wants to spend some time with you while I go check on Mommy. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah.” He bobbed his head.

  “In a little while Grampy’s going to come and take you home.” He ruffled his son’s hair and said, “If I know Grampy, there will also be a stop at the ice cream shop.”

  Nicholas grinned at his father.

  Matthew nodded at Christopher, who smiled broadly as he walked toward Nicholas.

  “Thank you for looking after him,” Matthew said to me, massaging his neck as Brooks joined us.

  “Ready?” he said, and the beleaguered man nodded.

  What the heck was going on here? My eyes searched Brooks’s, but he gave me nothing. The two men walked to the WRPD cruiser, and a moment later only a trail of dust remained. They were followed a few minutes later by Jason, exiting with Zach Renner. That left Daniel and Wes Creed alone in the barn. I found myself striding purposefully in that direction, my heart racing. Nicholas had called Wes a bad man. But Brooks would never leave Daniel alone with Wes if he was truly dangerous, right?

  I slowly opened the
door but didn’t see the two men, though I heard calm voices, which was a relief. As I approached from the rear of the barn, I heard Wes say, “It was all Lee’s idea. I wanted nothing to do with it.”

  Wanted nothing to do with what? A loose floorboard groaned under my weight, enough to bring Daniel from the alcove where he and Wes had been talking. He furtively raised a halting hand, which had me quietly retracing my steps back to the door.

  “It was nothing,” I heard Daniel tell Wes as I made my exit. As much as I wanted to know what this was about, I didn’t want to endanger whatever Daniel was doing by being found eavesdropping.

  I looked toward the porch where Christopher and Nicholas were sitting, heads nearly touching. Another conversation I would love to overhear, but yet another one that was none of my business.

  Uffa.

  31

  Cassandra

  I met up with Edgar and Jimmy as they were strolling along the cliffs, and The Bluffs was deserted when we returned.

  “Quite the contrast to earlier today, wouldn’t you say?” This from Jimmy.

  “Indeed,” Edgar agreed. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you can share?”

  “Sorry, no.” The fact of the matter was, I still didn’t really know what happened here today.

  “Well, I’m afraid we need to head back to Alcyone. My agent is coming for a visit that was arranged long ago.”

  “Is she eager to know where you stand on the Barnacle Boy project?”

  “Push, push, push,” Jimmy said. “That’s publishing for you.”

  “I’ve hit a stumbling block.” Edgar frowned. “She just wants a status update. And one of Jimmy’s culinary masterpieces.”

  “She’s a vegetarian, to boot.” He made a face, though I knew he’d be up for the challenge.

  “Will you make sure Christopher gets that bag of books I left on the porch? I’ll call him later with my question.”

  “Of course.” I bid them goodbye and took myself into the house, where I was startled to find Christopher sitting at my kitchen table, working on his laptop, Gypsy lying contentedly at his feet.

  “Did Nicholas’s grandfather come for him already?”

 

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