by Regan Black
“Yes, aside from that.”
“I’m not sure. My life has been wonderful. I probably should’ve insisted on more independence after college, but my parents mean well and want the best for me.”
“You don’t feel smothered?”
“Sure, sometimes. I have friends who live hundreds of miles from their parents who feel smothered. My parents did everything possible to give me opportunities when I was little. I wasn’t going to repay that by running off and ignoring them once I finished college.”
“Does that hold even now, when you’re so sure your dad’s hiding something?”
She nodded emphatically.
“Families are made of people and therefore, by definition, they’re imperfect systems,” he said. “When you find a system that works for everyone it’s a good thing to hang on to.”
“A good thing to protect?”
“Absolutely. As long as you remember you’re responsible for your own happiness.”
“I’m happy.” She lifted her face to the breeze. “Or rather, I was. I expect to be happy again. It would be nice to have answers from Dad and justice for Melissa though.”
“How will you cope if you find out that the woman who looks just like you, a woman who might well be your sister, is actually a killer?”
She turned and stared out at the horizon, hugging herself. She did look small, standing against the backdrop of the endless ocean. But he didn’t see her as insignificant. She radiated power, courage and commitment with a warmth as tangible as sunlight. Small or not she was important to her family and to this community. He silently vowed to do whatever had to be done to return her to the life she deserved.
Sitting on the back porch, her gaze on the ocean, Paige heard Carter’s cell phone ring. The sound had become familiar as they settled into a routine during the first few days of her protective isolation. She resisted the urge to hurry inside like a worried child hoping for good news. Bad enough that she felt small and irrelevant. She wouldn’t behave that way.
Zero control was the worst.
He and his assistant were working around the clock, but she had no idea how they would prove she wasn’t the woman holding that gun in Melissa’s kitchen. Ronnie—Detective Lewis—had made it abundantly clear he didn’t buy the alibi her parents provided.
That hurt.
Videos were manipulated all the time. Shouldn’t he have some faith in an old friend?
Personally, she couldn’t get the image out of her mind. It had to be a trick. The alternative, that someone out there with nearly identical features to her was capable of murder, was too bizarre to be true.
Nothing she’d found in her father’s past indicated he’d cheated on her mom more than once, though she continued to search, just in case. When it came to the legal trouble, she was reliant on her bodyguard and his strict rules about her access to the world. Though she wasn’t ready to admit it, the distance from her parents was actually refreshing right now.
Standing, she walked to the edge of the porch, as far as she was allowed to go without Carter’s protection.
Behind her the screen door opened and slapped closed. “Paige?”
She turned, tried to smile at him. “I wasn’t going to run off.” Just fantasizing about it.
“It’s your mom.” Carter held out his cell phone.
She frowned. Had he been talking with her mother for the past several minutes? He didn’t look flustered or annoyed, which made him better than her.
“What’s wrong?” she mouthed the words.
“Talk to her,” he mouthed back.
She took the phone and gave her mom a bright hello as Carter went back inside. Her mom didn’t need to know how aggravated she was with the isolation and precautions. “How are you doing, Mom?”
“We’re fine. It’s the usual here, other than extra security milling about and the police car out front. I wanted to hear your voice. How are you holding up?”
“I’m good. Carter is a great cook,” she added, just to make conversation.
“How nice. You should bake him some cookies.”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t in the mood for cookies.
“Your holiday cookie trays are the best. I gave Carter a grocery list.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Thanks.” What else could she say? Her mom meant well. “That was helpful.”
“You’re hurting,” Cora said. “I can hear it. You should be here.”
Location didn’t make any difference when the pain was lodged in her heart. Between Melissa’s death and the secrets in her father’s past, Paige didn’t know anything that would ease this deep pressure in her chest.
“Carter tells me it isn’t forever,” Paige said. “He’s working hard to find the real kil—culprit,” she corrected immediately. Killer was a harsh term to use with her mom, even if it was accurate.
“Sweetheart, I know you want to protect me, but I have your father. He’s the best support around.”
Would that support hold up when either the police or Carter’s agency found the woman from the video? If it wasn’t someone purposely framing Paige, then she and that woman must be related. How would Cora cope if she learned about Jack’s infidelity?
Bad enough that they’d never told Paige she was adopted. Had her father ever confessed that he was actually Paige’s father? In the process of clearing her name, her father would have to own up to that eventually.
All her life, she’d known her place in the world as Paige Coker, only child. Now, ridiculous as it was, she felt lost, detached from both the role and the family. She had no idea how to proceed.
“How are plans for the party coming along?” Cora asked.
“Everything is on schedule,” she said. She’d spoken with Gloria and called in favors, handing off everything so her dad would be honored properly for his professional accomplishments. “The first draft of the memory video should be ready by tomorrow.” Better that she wasn’t in charge while she wrangled this emotional tempest about her dad.
“Good,” Cora said. “And the catering? I know they must be feeling dreadful after this tragedy.”
Of course they did. Their beloved boss had been murdered.
Paige paced the width of the porch, wishing for an escape from this nightmare. “Melissa’s team decided to stay on the job, to honor Melissa’s legacy.”
“Oh, my.” Cora sniffed delicately. “Wonderful. You needed something to go smoothly. In case I haven’t said it enough, thank you again for taking over the event. Something like this would’ve thrown me into such a tailspin.”
Paige was spinning, no doubt about it. But if her mother had found that picture it would’ve spelled certain disaster.
“Have you heard about Melissa’s funeral?” Cora asked.
She swiveled around, looking for Carter, but he wasn’t in sight. “No.”
“It’s tomorrow afternoon,” Cora said. “I gave Carter the details. I’m sure he can protect you if you choose to go.”
Given a choice, of course she’d go. “Thanks for telling me.” She should find something else to say, but she was out of neutral talking points.
“Bake those cookies,” Cora said, filling the gap. “Baking relaxes you and both of you will enjoy the results.”
“That’s true,” Paige managed.
“Your dad assures me this mess will be cleared up and settled so we can be together for Christmas.”
She’d rather be alone this year. “I’d like that,” she lied.
“If Carter doesn’t have family plans, invite him to join us.”
“Mom.” Cora imagined that every man Paige spent time with was potential husband material. “We aren’t a couple. This is Carter’s job.”
“And his agency gives him holidays off. Your father tells me they’re the best.”
Pointing out the distinction between being the best in the business and the best employer was a waste of time. “I’ll extend the invitation.”
“Thank you. We love you, sweethea
rt.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
For several minutes she lingered on the porch, watching the water and thinking about Melissa. At the sound of the screen door, she swiped at her damp cheeks. Crying wasn’t productive.
“How did it go?” Carter asked
She kept her gaze on the ocean, leaning against the upright. “She was determined to be cheerful.” Casting a glance over her shoulder, she asked, “Do you have family?”
“Just my mom and stepdad. Why?”
“Mom has invited you to have Christmas with us. Assuming we aren’t still separated for security reasons.” She held up his phone, too worn out to carry it to him.
He took the phone and slipped it into his back pocket. “You haven’t been sleeping.”
“Correct.”
“We’re doing all we can to find the other woman.”
The sincerity in his eyes was a comfort. He was a man who didn’t take shortcuts with his responsibilities. The story had finally broken. Melissa had been adored in the Charleston food scene and having Paige tied to the case added fuel to the fiery gossip. The surveillance video had not been made available to the media and Paige thanked her legal team for that.
“I want to go to Melissa’s funeral,” she stated.
He folded his arms over his chest. “It’s not the best idea.”
She disagreed. “Would you consider anything outside this safe house as a good idea?”
“No,” he admitted.
“Please, find a way for me to attend.” She needed to pay her respects. “I’ll wear a floppy hat and sunglasses.”
His lips twitched at the reference to their first discussion out here. “We could have the service livestreamed.”
“Or I could just be there.”
“We’re here because you’re the prime suspect in her murder. Going out isn’t safe.”
She hated feeling trapped. “I’m innocent. The people closest to her know I didn’t do this.”
“They could turn on you,” he warned. “That kind of thing cuts deep.”
She knew he spoke from experience. The family of that young girl had ripped him apart, giving him no credit for his valiant efforts to save her. Some days life wasn’t fair and the consequences were worse.
She felt utterly shredded already. Sharp words or nasty looks would hardly register at this point. “Please, Carter. If you were in my shoes...” She waited, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear.
“I’d want to be there,” he said after a lengthy silence. He pulled out his phone. “I’ll get Jenna started on logistics.”
Carter was relieved when he finally crossed the last bridge to the island after the funeral. It had taken three times as long to get back to the safe house with the change of cars and the meandering route. All necessary steps to keep Paige’s location secure.
She was still safe, but clearly fatigued. The service had taken a toll. No one had been rude to her, though she’d been prepared for negative reactions. Maybe it was an element of the community grief, but everyone welcomed her. There had been hugs and short weepy conversations, even with Melissa’s mother. Not even Detective Lewis, lurking in the back row, had given her trouble.
The compassion extended to Paige didn’t surprise him. People genuinely liked her. He genuinely liked her.
She was clever and creative and she was so easy to talk to. She got things done. He’d been impressed with the way she’d adjusted to keep Jack’s retirement party on track. It had to be tough overseeing those plans while she debated how best to deal with her anger and questions about her dad, herself and possibly a previously unknown sister.
“Did you see Detective Lewis?” he asked once they were finally in the house.
“Yes.” She stepped out of her heels and rocked back and forth.
The glossy purple polish on her toenails caught his attention. He had no business studying her toes. “Did he know Melissa personally?’
“Not that I’m aware of,” she said. “Did you warn him not to bother me during the service?”
“No,” he said. “I expected him to try to speak with you.”
Her eyebrows snapped together. “Guess he found some common sense.” She picked up her shoes. “I’m going to change. Then I’ll bake a batch of Melissa’s gingersnaps.”
He let her go, heading for his room to get out of his suit, his mind mulling the service and the attendees. He’d taken a slew of pictures for Jenna’s research. Unfortunately, he didn’t see any sign of the woman from the scene of the murder.
“Um, Carter?”
He’d just loosened his tie when he turned to find her in the doorway. Still pale, her hand trembled as she showed him a small white card. “What is it?”
She held the small rectangle as if it was a live grenade. “A message.”
He touched her wrist, rather than the card. Her pulse raced under his fingertips and her breath was quick, shallow. She was flat out scared. He focused on the message, though it took more willpower than it should. Paige was a client, counting on him, and he would maintain a professional distance despite his urge to comfort her.
It was a business card from the funeral home and on the blank back side were three lines, hand-printed with careful deliberation.
We need to meet.
Pineapple Fountain.
Wednesday noon
“When did you get this?” he asked, still holding her wrist. Was Detective Lewis trying to corner her somehow?
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I only spoke to a few people.”
True, he’d watched her like a hawk. Lewis hadn’t approached her at all. Releasing her wrist, he took the card from her fingers. Setting it on the dresser, he took a photo with his phone and sent that on to Jenna.
“Show me where you found it.”
She darted away, hurrying down the hall to her room. “We have to be there.”
“No.” She flinched, and he regretted setting the hard line. “We need information first.”
“Here.” She’d dropped the small purse she’d carried to the service on the bed. She pointed to the outside pocket. “The card was tucked right here. It has to be from her, don’t you think?”
“It could be from anyone,” he cautioned. “You hugged several people.” And whoever slipped that into her purse had been an excellent touch. He hadn’t seen anything suspicious.
“It’s from her.” Her jaw set and her gaze narrowed. “You think it’s a setup.”
He hesitated. “For all we know, that note is from the Tooth Fairy.”
“Well, it would be rude to leave the Tooth Fairy standing alone at the Pineapple Fountain.”
He scrubbed at his jaw. Security would be a nightmare with less than forty-eight hours to prepare. How could he shift things in their favor? “Paige, it’s my job to protect you—”
“How will you find the real killer if you’re hovering over me?” she demanded. “I know you have an assistant working behind the scenes but come on.”
The desperation in her voice, the fear clouding her deep blue eyes sliced through him. “I was going to say that it will take some time for Jenna to get ready for this kind of meeting.”
“We’re going? Together,” she clarified. “I won’t be left behind.”
He wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone. She was too determined to do something, wise or not. He respected that urgency but couldn’t allow her to act on it.
“It’s the only lead we have at the moment, so yes. We’re going.” Her face lit with hope. “Promise me you’ll follow my directions. Broad daylight doesn’t negate the risk. The police aren’t any closer to a motive or alternate suspect for Melissa’s murder, which makes the other woman in the video a threat to you.”
“I understand.”
He wasn’t sure she did. Who would? In her shoes, he’d be hard pressed to reconcile a video like that. It would be like watching the worst version of himself.
“She was at the scene, but that doesn’t make her guilty,
” Paige said stubbornly.
“We don’t even know who she is,” he reminded her. “We have no evidence that the person who slipped that card into your purse is the woman from the crime scene.”
If her doppelgänger had been at the service, she’d been in an excellent disguise. Or she’d paid someone to drop the note in Paige’s purse. Both scenarios put him on edge.
She was nibbling on her lip, distracting him again and likely thinking up an argument for him to hurry. He cleared his throat. “I’ll call Jenna.” He turned his phone around in his palm. “If I tell you it’s a setup and we need to leave, you must cooperate.”
“I will.”
He sure hoped she kept that promise.
FamilySecrets.Life
Be careful not to make assumptions based solely on your experience.
People often carry baggage you can’t see. A memory you find joyful might well be a painful moment for another person in the family.
FamilySecrets.Life
Chapter Eight
“Relax,” Carter said as they walked toward the pineapple fountain in the waterfront park. This was a popular meeting point in Charleston and Carter deemed it crowded enough to be safe. Whatever that meant.
She wasn’t sure she could relax. She’d done her best to cooperate and be helpful since the moment he’d walked into her life. Had it been less than a week ago? Time was alternately dragging and rushing between the methodical investigation and the scrambling party details.
Today she would officially meet her sister, most likely her twin sister, based on that video from Melissa’s kitchen.
It was surreal. Too frustrated and angry with her father’s lies to work on the memory books and video presentation for his party, she’d handed off that task to an expert service along with all the notes she’d made before she’d found that picture.
Then she’d thrown herself into researching twins and how to heal relationships broken by the weight of secrets and lies. She suspected the latest advice she’d found on the FamilySecrets.life site about assumptions and experience would be valuable today.