Above the Fold

by Rachel Scott McDaniel

  Elissa willed her pulse to slow. She couldn’t afford to plunge deeper into this conversation. No. Things needed to remain shallow. Her heart remained safer that way.

  His husky voice tiptoed across her senses. “In my opinion, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.” His gaze wasn’t on the lily but on her.

  He smiled at her blush. Not a teasing smirk, but one of appreciation. One she could gaze at for an eternity, which was precisely why she needed to leave. Head to the nearest exit.

  And she did.

  CHAPTER 10

  To Cole’s relief, Sterling had been assigned to the Shelby case. The man was as honest as they came, which would ensure a quality investigation. What it hadn’t provided was a strengthening of familial relations. Cole glanced at his cousin, who sat beside him on the church pew. All morning, Sterling’s responses had alternated between grunts and growls. If that hadn’t been enough, he’d stolen Cole’s hymnal. Thankfully, the song leader selected hymns Cole already knew.

  Cole sat forward, not wanting to miss a word this preacher said. He dug in his vest pocket and retrieved his notepad and pencil, jotting down the opening text and some statements, not caring if he attracted glances. Taking notes made him a better listener. He kept his gaze on the paper as the truth poured into his soul.

  After the preacher closed with prayer, Sterling’s petite fiancée, Sophie, leaned forward to speak around his brooding cousin. “You’re welcome to join us for lunch, Cole.”

  Sterling grunted, and Sophie scowled at him. “Are you going to be like this all day?”

  “Just until Cole promises not to interfere with a police investigation again.” He spoke to his bride-to-be, but his heavy glare was channeled on Cole.

  Cole tucked his Bible under his arm. “I called you right before the newsies hit the streets.” The least he could do after Elissa’s distress over the extra. She didn’t want Cole murdered by lunatics. That meant something, right?

  Sterling shook his head. “Not good enough. I want to be alerted first. Show some respect next time.”

  “You do the same.” Cole could play this game. In fact, he was rather good at it. “You call yourself a policeman, but you stole my hymnal. That’s gotta be breaking some sort of code.”

  That pulled a wily grin from the grump. “Just be careful, Cole. Don’t do anything else stupid.”

  “Fair enough. And I’ll be happy to join you two for lunch.”

  “It’s got to be close by.” Sterling favored Sophie with a smile. The rascal. He could glare the hair off a cat and then charm it to purr in his ear. “I’m conducting interrogations at Shelby’s place today.”

  Cole mashed his lips together. His hunch about Mr. Shelby being murdered had been correct. The authorities had confirmed it this morning, claiming they’d found traces of dynamite. “That could be interesting. Can I come?”

  Sterling scowled. “No.”

  The man was too severe for his own good. “Remember to tell Sophie about the time I used your varsity jacket to wrap fish and hide it under the stadium bleachers. The hot summer sun helped everything smell real nice.”

  Sophie raised a brow, curiosity shining in her emerald eyes.

  “After you explain what happened to provoke that stunt.” He winked at his girl. “Let’s just say it involved underpants and a flagpole.”

  “All right, you win.” Cole chuckled as he made his way out of the pew. “Now let’s eat before you tell her all my secrets.”

  “I don’t have that much time.” Sterling teased from behind him.

  “There you are.” Elissa’s father tripped on the leg of the church pew and bounded into the aisle with as much grace as a mule in a parlor. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.”

  Cole had chosen to sit near the front so he wouldn’t be distracted when Elissa arrived. She’d already occupied his thoughts half the night and most of the morning, but here, in church, that was God’s time. “Good morning, boss. How did the extra fare?”

  Tillman shifted his gaze to the left. “That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

  A knot tightened in Cole’s gut. Had he been mistaken? Maybe he shouldn’t have pressed about the extra, even though it had felt so right at the time.

  Elissa stood by the door, chatting with the preacher’s wife, resembling an angel in her ivory dress and halo of golden hair. She wouldn’t forgive him if he’d lost more money for the Review. He slid his gaze to his cousin. “Hey, I don’t think I can join you today for lunch.” He jerked his head toward his boss, and Sterling nodded.

  “Maybe next week.” Sterling tapped Cole’s upper arm with his Bible and led his fiancée out the door Elissa stood next to.

  Tillman fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “Since I just cost you a meal, how about you come over to our house? Then I can talk to you and Lissie at the same time.”

  Cole’s heart jolted at the seriousness marking Tillman’s expression. How much did they end up losing by firing up the press last night?

  Elissa’s appetite shrank from small to non-existent. The last time she and Cole were in this house together was the day he’d made the promise.

  I’ll come back to you, Spark. You hold my heart.

  Those words. She squeezed her fork with her thumb and index finger. When he’d only been gone a few weeks, she’d mentally rehearsed them, trying to picture the certainty in his eyes and the deep resonance of his voice, but then weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. The words she’d clung to had tormented her. Not to mention the words she’d whispered in his ear the second before he stepped onto the train.

  “Something wrong with your lunch, dear?” Her mother’s voice burst into her pathetic thoughts. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Elissa cleared her throat and hoped the face she made resembled a smile. “I’m well, Mother.” To make the torture complete, Cole sat across from her at the table, throwing curious glances her way. She set her feet as far under her chair as she could. They’d bumped toes twice already, and her heart couldn’t take another accidental touch.

  Her father set his fork onto his plate and leaned forward, his reputation for being the first to clear his plate intact. Really, he shouldn’t ingest his food so fast. Maybe that was causing the heartburn he’d complained about last week. She fingered the edges of her napkin and squelched a sigh. Most likely, the stress from his increased attempts to save the paper had caused his unease.

  “Now, young man.” Her father lifted his chin and used his boss tone. “About the extra.”

  Cole’s mouth flattened into a line as he met her father’s stare. His shoulders straightened as if preparing to carry the news about to be thrown on him.

  Elissa’s pulse kicked up. She’d asked Father before church if the extra profited them or proved to be a flop, but he wouldn’t answer, just encouraged her to pay attention to the sermon. Oh, she’d tried to pay attention, but her eyes kept finding Cole. She didn’t miss the reverent way he bowed his head during prayer, and she almost fell out her pew when he retrieved his press pad and scribbled notes. Cole had accompanied her to church several times while they dated, but back then, he’d seemed disinterested, apathetic.

  “How’d it fare, sir?” Cole flicked a glance at her, and she quickly focused on her barely eaten lasagna.

  Her father cleared his throat. “Well, I believe I have to let you out of your contract.”

  Elissa’s heart tumbled into her gut. “Why?” As much as Cole’s presence had sent her life off-kilter, she couldn’t let her father be cruel to him. “He was trying to help the paper. Please, reconsider.”

  “Lissie.” A slow smile spread across Father’s face. “The extra was a success. So much so, I insist on letting Cole out of his initial agreement and paying him for it.”

  Cole shifted in his seat. “With all due respect, Mr. Tillman, can we talk about this privately? I would—”

  “Wait.” Realization hit. “Are you saying Cole hasn’t been getting paid?”

&
nbsp; Mother stood, her chair creaking with the movement. “I’ll go help Greta with dessert and coffee.” She disappeared from sight.

  “It wasn’t my idea,” Father said. “When Cole called me wanting a job, I told him I couldn’t pay him the salary he deserved. He persuaded me to allow him back on staff if, and only if, I withdrew his name from the payroll.”

  She couldn’t believe it. Why had he put in the hours, work, if he hadn’t earned a dime? She stared at him until he glanced over. “Cole Parker, why did you come back?”

  “Mr. Tillman, we had a deal, and I expect the terms to be kept private.”

  Cole’s boss grinned like he’d just been told the president of the United States wanted to give the Review an exclusive.

  Elissa’s demeanor shifted from confusion to something Cole couldn’t identify, but he liked it. “Spark, I told you last night. I believe God gave me a second chance to get things right.”

  At that moment he knew she’d understood his meaning. Because it happened. She smiled … and her nose crinkled.

  A wave of triumph swept through him so hard he wanted to let out a whoop. He desired to freeze time and count the crinkles her grin chased up the bridge of her nose. Soak in her glowing complexion kissed by the sun. Maybe run his thumb along her bottom lip.

  “Yes. Well.” Tillman interrupted the moment, but Cole allowed himself a little greediness and let his gaze linger until his boss said, “As for the second reason I asked you to come here …”

  The edge in his tone warned Cole. He’d heard it many times before—the first time he took Elissa on an official date, the summer evening when he’d kept her out past her curfew, and the day he’d left for Columbia. His throat went dry. He grabbed his water and took a sip. The swell of conquest he’d experienced a moment ago deflated. But he needed to know. “What’s that, sir?”

  Elissa set her fork down. She’d hardly eaten anything. Mostly shoved the lasagna around her plate.

  “I’ve been thinking.” Tillman plucked his napkin from his lap and tossed it beside his plate. “I haven’t been fair to my daughter.”

  His breath collapsed in his chest. This could be bad. Very bad. Was Tillman going to order him to leave? But why be upset now about the way Cole had treated Elissa? The man could’ve simply said no when Cole had called that anguished day from the hospital. Well, he wouldn’t be a coward in front of Elissa. He’d take whatever Tillman wanted to dish out. Cole deserved it.

  “She needs an opportunity to prove herself.” The father smiled at the daughter, and Cole deduced that maybe this could turn out all right. “She’s been dedicated to the paper for so long, learning every aspect of the business. I think she could run it better than I.”

  Elissa furrowed her brow. “Oh, Father, please. I would—”

  He raised his hand. “Let me finish, Lissie.” Clearing his throat, he went on. “She’s a brilliant journalist, and I think she needs a shot at an article worth her talent.”

  Cole nodded. “I agree.”

  Her jaw went slack in such an unfeminine manner, it tempted Cole to lift his glass in a hearty “cheers.” She caught herself and pressed her mouth shut, even patting her lips with her napkin as if to cover it up.

  “But Cole, I want to be fair to you as well. Therefore, I’ve decided to have a friendly competition.”

  Cole’s spirits sank at the word ‘competition,’ but the woman across from him straightened in her seat and glued her attention on her father.

  “You both have two weeks to compose a masterpiece of an article. The Shelby case should give you plenty of good material. Both articles must be on my desk by nine sharp on the morning of the seventeenth. I’ll review them and select the best one.” He gave a firm nod, and Cole’s heart seeped into his stomach. “And just to be fair, no names on the articles. Deal?”

  “No.” Elissa countered. “I can’t agree to this.”

  Her father leaned over the table, his elbow missing the butter by an inch. “What? I thought this was what you wanted. Your work published.”

  “That’s right. My work. Not Elliot Wentworth’s.” She cut a quick glance to Cole, and he gave a tight nod, accepting her confession. Something flickered in her eyes, but she snapped her attention back to her father. “If I’m to do this, I want my name on the byline.”

  “Agreed.”

  Elissa’s scowl wavered, the right corner of her mouth lifting until the rest of her lips followed suit.

  Cole felt like slamming his head onto the table, while Elissa all but bounced in her seat like a four-year-old being told she could play with the big kids. She sprung from her chair and pecked a kiss on her father’s cheek. Then she slid her gaze to Cole. Whatever had been blossoming between them shriveled in the heat of her stare. For she now considered him her rival.

  Cole pushed away from the table, the chair scraping against the oak floor. “Thank you for lunch.” He pushed out the words with a quick nod. “I better be on my way. Sorry I can’t stay for coffee. Please relay my apologies and thanks to Mrs. Tillman.” He even impressed himself with his politeness. Quite an effort considering every nerve in his body pulled taut.

  “I appreciate your changing your plans for me, Cole.” Tillman stretched out his hand for his signature handshake, followed by his slap on the back. “I hope your cousin won’t be cross with you for bailing on him.”

  He shrugged. “Sterling couldn’t take much time for lunch, anyway. Has investigations over at Shelby’s building.”

  “Is he still there?” If the eagerness in Elissa’s voice wasn’t a dead giveaway, the shining eyes were.

  Like giving steak to a hungry Doberman, he’d just fed Elissa her first scoop without even trying. A fist tightened in his stomach. This could get dangerous. Elissa herself had said it last night. The killer is still on the loose. What was her father thinking? “Don’t know. But what I do know is that if I don’t go pay my dear mother a visit, it’ll be my obituary you’ll be writing.”

  “Please pardon the interruption.” Greta stepped into the dining room. “Elissa, Mr. Kendrew is on the line.”

  Elissa slouched for only a second, but the brief action lifted Cole’s chin. Was it possible Elissa didn’t want to speak to Mr. Sweetheart? “Thanks, Greta. I’ll … um … be there in a moment.”

  “Greta.” Tillman chimed in. “Hold the dessert and coffee.”

  The older woman gave a polite nod and regarded Elissa with a raised brow.

  Elissa stood and pushed her chair in. “Glad your extra worked out, Cole. Good luck with the competition.” She stuck out her hand, a mischievous smile slanting her lips.

  Cole was either smart or foolish because he matched the smirk with his own and reached for her hand, holding onto it longer than a typical handshake.

  Elissa’s smile wobbled, but she held her posture well, considering he caressed her pinky with his thumb. “I better go see what Adam wants.” And she ducked out the door with the same speed as last night.

  “Can you come with me to my study for a quick minute, Cole? It’s important.” Tillman. How could he have forgotten his boss’s presence?

  He cleared his throat. “Certainly.”

  Down the hall and two steps into the room, Cole spoke up. “Sir, I don’t mean to challenge your judgment, but do you think this competition is wise? Elissa’s more competitive than anyone I knew in New York, meaning she might end up in some dangerous situations.”

  These killers had detonated a dynamite bomb, forcing Shelby to an awful fate, his remains charred beyond recognition. Who was to say what else these madmen were capable of.

  Tillman sighed and pulled out a file from a drawer in his desk. “See this?” He withdrew a stack of papers, dropped it on the desktop. “This is what I found in Elissa’s work desk. I need to return them tomorrow before she notices. But look. There’re articles. Notes. Even some interviews.”

  Good thing Cole only kept his Bible and office supplies in his drawers at work. He’d never known Tillman to be one to p
ry. “What’s wrong with that, sir? She writes occasional society editorials. I figure she’d have notes and such.”

  “These.” He pointed to the papers. “These are all about the Cartelli case. The troubling part is that most of the interviews and notes are dated prior to the trial. Meaning she was—”

  “Snooping around behind your back.” A sudden coldness hit his core. “If her prying was risky in the Cartelli case, it could be just as—if not more—dangerous in this murder investigation.”

  “Precisely.” Tillman’s grimace matched the seriousness in his eyes. “And no doubt she will do it again. That’s why I had to take matters into my own hands. This is where you come in, my boy.”

  “Me? You just set her against me.”

  “No. This gives the perfect outlet for you to keep an eye on her.”

  Cole scratched his cheek. “So the contest isn’t legit?”

  “It’s on the up-and-up as far as the articles are concerned, but if Elissa is going to tread in places of danger anyway, she needs to have someone protect her.”

  And her father had chosen him. Cole’s chest swelled, his lungs expanding to their fullest. Tillman trusted Cole with his daughter.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her.” Now this contest had increased in interest, giving him a bigger prize than a featured spread.

  CHAPTER 11

  Cole stared at the office where one of his childhood heroes had once worked. Icicles hung from the entrance like jagged fingernails, ready to rend his heart and bleed his memories. He blew out a breath, fogging the crisp air. Daniel Shelby had been a good man. Eccentric, yes, but still good. The itch to discover the identity of his killer, or killers, niggled under Cole’s skin. Not because of the story he could land, but because of the man he’d honor.

  He stepped onto the entryway. A lanky officer greeted him with folded arms and lifted chin. Poor execution, if the man intended the stance to be intimidating. “You need to take lessons from my cousin.”

  He blinked. “Pardon?”