Above the Fold
Page 13
Surprise and exhilaration had collided, exploding in Cole’s chest when her soft lips had met his. Five years had been far too long away from her searing touch. She’d fit perfectly in his arms. He couldn’t say it was like old times. It wasn’t. They’d both matured since their teenage years. Tonight’s embrace hadn’t been flippant or rebellious, like sneaking a kiss behind the bleachers during the last football game of his senior year. No, it’d brimmed with reciprocated attraction and depths of emotion.
“Okay, out with it.” Sterling sat in the adjacent chair, holding his coffee mug. The rascal didn’t offer Cole any, but what did Cole expect? He’d knocked on his cousin’s door, rousing him from sleep. The man was one of those early to sleep, early to rise sort of guys.
Cole removed his hat and slapped it on his knee. “I caught Elissa breaking into the Shelby building.”
Sterling spewed his coffee. “What?”
Cole sighed and handed him his handkerchief. “You’re worse than a child.”
Sterling’s eyes narrowed, and he grabbed the cloth from Cole’s hand, wiping his mouth. “Breaking and entering is a serious offense.”
“Yeah. And you were her accomplice.”
Sterling scoffed. “I only allowed the girl to use the powder room.” He stiffened. “She unlocked the window.”
“You got it. But she didn’t succeed. It was frozen shut.” He could still picture the frustration pouting her lips. Lips that tasted like peppermint and enticement.
“I underestimated Miss Tillman.”
“I know the feeling. She was determined. So I let her in.” He held up a hand. “And before you launch into a boring monologue of code violations, let me say Shelby gave me a key.” Cole dug it from his pocket as proof. “And permission the last time I saw him.”
Sterling shook his head. “It’s still considered part of the investigation. Which is off-limits to the public.”
“Then to be fair, you need to relay that information to the two knuckleheads who came in while we were there.”
Sterling shot forward. “What?”
“We hid in the coat closet while two men searched Shelby’s office.”
“For what?” Sterling scratched his jaw, fire lighting his eyes. “Shelby didn’t hold valuables at his office, but a common crook wouldn’t know. But what if they were there for a purpose?”
“Like the will?” Cole leaned back and kicked out his heels.
“I did a thorough search of that place after our interrogation with Mrs. Shelby. I found nothing.”
“Neither did they.” Cole shrugged. “Except discovering they shouldn’t trifle with a blonde aiming a loaded cigarette lighter.”
“The one in Shelby’s desk.” Sterling cocked a brow.
“She didn’t know it wasn’t a real gun.”
His cousin took a slow swig of his coffee, but there was no hiding the humor in his expression. “So tell me, what’s it like to have a woman defend your sorry hide?”
“Feels good.” His pride could stand a nice wallop. And as long as Elissa was safe, he was happy. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to protect her. If she only knew how much he’d sacrifice to keep her safe. Problem was, she didn’t. Not now. Not five years ago. She had no understanding that the reason he hadn’t returned was to protect her. From him.
“How bad was the place destroyed?” Sterling lifted his pocket watch from a side table and scowled. “I need to head over there and investigate.”
“The office isn’t bad. Papers are scattered, and furniture’s been moved.” Cole had cleaned up the glass and tucked the broken frame and his test in the small storage compartment on his bike along with … “The knife. One of the men had a penknife. It’s in the Triumph.”
Sterling nodded. “Could you identify them?”
“No doubt.”
“Come with me to Shelby’s. Then we’ll swing by the station and look at some photos.” Sterling moved to the adjacent kitchenette and rinsed his mug. “By the way, do you want some coffee?”
Funny man. “Does Sophie know the kind of cad she’s marrying in a few days?”
He flashed a grin. “She’s smitten by my charm.”
“Smitten? That word’s about as masculine as this pillow.” Cole launched it at his head, and Sterling batted the thing down with a chuckle. “It’s a good thing she’s—”
The phone rang.
Sterling answered. His rapt attention on the rotary dial and the way he cemented the receiver to his ear marked an interesting conversation.
“I’ll be right there.” Eagerness flavored his tone. He hung up and glanced at Cole. “Jeffrey Shelby’s been located.”
“Half-witted. Harebrained.”
Elissa’s penance had been insulting herself, alphabetically, with every pluck of a pin from her hair. Not only had she realized she possessed an expansive vocabulary, but Cole’s wandering fingers had loosened several pins as if he’d been intentional about ruffling her appearance as well as her composure. Yet she couldn’t be angry with him because she was the one who’d kissed him. And then ruined everything.
Last two pins. “Idiotic. Imbecilic.”
Hair unbound and cascading over her shoulders, she glared at her reflection in the vanity mirror. Pale blue circles taunted her from under weary eyes. Only twenty-four, yet losing her bloom. Could she blame fatigue? Had her efforts in becoming the perfect lady, the perfect journalist, the perfect … everything, drained the life from her?
A pair of scissors lay on the vanity, inches from her fingertips. It wouldn’t take much. Four, maybe five slices, cutting her tresses, severing herself from the prison of propriety, freeing herself from the haunts of the past.
Could she do it? Bob her hair? Again?
Hecklings and sneers echoed loud in her ears, the same as they had eight years ago. It’d been an accident, but society had frowned all the same. Now, there were a select few, such as silent film stars and dancers, who proudly displayed the style, but the Pittsburgh community hadn’t fully embraced it. Just like it’d never welcomed her.
Maybe it was time to declare her independence from perfection’s bondage.
Her fingers curled around the metal shears. Hand trembling, she grabbed a chunk of hair at the nape of her neck and slid her eyes shut.
No.
She’d sworn never to return. That lifestyle had left her reviled and abandoned. She’d carved a new path, and fatigue or no, she’d walk it. The shaking didn’t subside. She shoved the scissors into a drawer, took another glimpse of herself, and wept.
CHAPTER 15
“I told him the next time he came in here, I’d shoot him.” The stocky man motioned with the rifle he’d been clutching since the moment Sterling and Cole had stepped into Gibson’s Drug & Retail.
His cousin clapped Mr. Gibson on the shoulder. “Don’t shorten your life by ending his.” Both Sterling and the proprietor glared at Mr. Shelby’s son, Jeffrey, in a drunken stupor, collapsed on a bench, arm dangling over the side.
Cole surveyed the damage again. Busted storefront windows. Rubble splayed across the floor. Fragmented glass. A groan settled in his chest. This scene closely resembled the one he’d left hours ago at Shelby’s office.
“I’m sure young Shelby here will pay for his offenses. But you’re welcome to press charges.” Sterling reminded the enraged man for the third time over the past fifteen minutes.
Gibson snorted. “He’ll be lucky if I don’t drag his pampered carcass to court. Given what ’e’s done.” His seething glare snapped to the two bricks Jeffrey had launched through the windows, lying beside a tilted magazine rack.
Jeffrey’s head lolled, facing them. “Lousy service.”
The owner’s broad chest expanded, lips pulling, revealing crooked teeth.
Sterling stepped between the two. “Next time, Mr. Shelby, visit the place during business hours to purchase tobacco.” He muttered something under his breath and then peered at Cole. “Come on, help me get him to the car.”
Sterling gave an exasperated grunt and crouched beside Jeffrey. Cole positioned himself opposite. The pungent odor of bile and liquor accosted Cole’s nostrils, his stomach clenching tighter than the grip he had on the drunken man’s arm.
Propping each side, they hoisted Jeffrey up, his limp weight pulling. They dragged him out of the building, the tops of his shoes skidding against the cement walk.
The next several minutes consisted of stuffing Jeffrey’s thick body into the back of Sterling’s car and cranking the starter despite the cold temperature.
Cole warned his cousin a few blocks into the drive. “Maybe you should drive at a slower pace.” The brick-paved roads caused the springs to rattle and Jeffrey to moan.
“Where have you been, Shelby?” Sterling ignored the caution and adopted a stern tone. “You’ve delayed our investigation by your absence, and now to be arrested for drunken and disorderly conduct.”
Jeffrey belched.
“You need to slow down, pal.” Thirty-five miles per hour was ideal for a Sunday drive, but not at night with an intoxicated man.
Sterling grunted. “I know what I’m doing. Come on, Shelby, tell me where you’ve been for the past day and a half. Did you go into hiding?”
Jeffrey muttered something. “Forgot the tobacco.” Another groan and then he retched.
Sterling slammed the brakes, and Jeffrey’s knees hit the floor. “He’s vomiting.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “In my car.”
“I can see that.” Cole’s throat thickened. Not only because of the sour air but because he’d known this way of life. Known the devastation that emerged. Was this a common episode for Jeffrey, or a one-time ordeal? Was this the reaction from the news about his father? Cole scratched his chin. Or did this travel deeper? Murderously deeper?
Elissa pressed her palm to the door of the Review building and took a steadying breath. She’d never been a fan of Mondays, but this particular one hit hard. Her eyes ached from last night’s sobbing, but at least her resolve had been strengthened—she’d remained true to her purpose.
I can do this.
Pretending was a skill she’d mastered. She projected elegance to such a degree that no one would ever know she calculated her every step. If she could fake poise, she could fake indifference toward Cole. Her heart began to protest, but she silenced it with three words. See you soon. The exact phrase Cole had said after she had spoken three words of her own, pouring out her soul, raw and exposed.
The situation at Mr. Shelby’s office had proved painful—feeling Cole’s touch again, his embrace—but she would suffer a thousand heartbreaks when he’d leave her again. And he would. Yes, he likely enjoyed her carefree spirit, but it was linked to a gracelessness he could never love, could never commit to.
Cole seemed to appreciate women like Kathleen Stigert. The actress, whose picture adorned his mother’s wall, was the epitome of poise and beauty. Cole’d said he hadn’t dated other women, but what had really happened between those two? Had Cole crushed her hopes as he had Elissa’s? Or had the famous beauty become wise to Cole’s charm and split with her heart intact?
“Are you going in, or are you going to stand there looking pretty?”
Her shoulders tensed. “Good morning, Adam.” She forced a smile, but it was nowhere near as chipper as his.
He tipped his hat to her and then reached for the door. “Allow me.”
“Thanks.” She slipped inside, hoping he wouldn’t pursue a conversation. Coffee and more coffee was needed before she could begin thinking of anything coherent to say. After tossing and turning most of last night, she’d overslept and missed breakfast. Which was probably better. Her mother would have launched more questions than her constitution could handle.
Adam followed her into the cloakroom. She made quick work of hanging her scarf and jacket while he chatted about the New York Stock Exchange. Due to the blustery day, her hat was secured with too many pins to remove without making a mess of her hair. Making tweezers of her fingers, she eased the one near her temple, but Adam knocked her elbow while blabbing about his most recent investments, unsettling her once-smooth style. She huffed. Oh, she’d just leave the blasted thing on since the black felt matched the trim on her red dress.
“So what do you think?” Adam fingered the brim of his homburg.
“Sounds great.” If you enjoyed rambling about shareholders and such.
His grin widened. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Her stomach bottomed out. What on earth had she committed to? She couldn’t go on a date with Adam, not while her lips still tingled from the residue of Cole’s kiss. There had to be a way of escape, but her brain remained in a fog. Oh, this was going to be a pip of a day.
Coffee.
Adam walked alongside her and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as if he were escorting her into the court of England instead of a noise-ridden newsroom. She attempted to pull away, but he held her fingers pinned between his elbow and his side. At least Cole wouldn’t be here for another half-hour, eight-thirty being his staple time of arrival.
Her stomach sank at the sight of Cole at his desk, his jacket already shed, his tie knot loosened, and his sleeves pushed past his elbows. His eyes met hers, and something unreadable spread across his face when his gaze traveled to Adam.
Adam smirked as if he’d won the prize of the day. She withdrew her hand and braved her way to her desk, nodding at Frank’s greeting.
Cole resumed typing, not sparing her a glance when she reached her desk. A muscle ticked in his jaw. This was a good thing, right? She had planned on pretending indifference. If Cole was upset with her, then she should be happy. But the gnawing ache in her chest didn’t agree.
To unsettle her more, Adam approached her with a smile Stretching longer than the Liberty Tunnels.
“I forgot to tell you.” Adam spoke louder than his casual tone. “I secured our usual table at The Star before the show. So you might want to wear something more formal.”
“Usual table?” She planted a hand on her hip. “We were there once and with a group of people.” Jay’s fiftieth birthday dinner.
His smile didn’t dim in the least.
She sighed. “Adam, come speak with me a moment.” Standing, she motioned to her father’s office, empty now because her father had an off-site meeting with a potential investor.
Adam walked by Cole, whose gaze was welded to his typing, and he followed her into the office. He took the only seat in front of the desk, leaving her father’s chair. She decided to stand.
“I’m glad you asked me in here.” He drummed his fingers on the armrest.
The glint in his eyes caused a million questions to pop in her mind. She bit the inside of her cheek, steeling herself to take control. “Listen, about tonight—”
“I know why Cole’s not at the Dispatch.” His annoying tapping stopped, and he leaned forward. “He didn’t quit. He was fired.”
The word burned a hole in her heart. Fired. Why? She both wanted and didn’t want to know the reason. “How’d you find out?” And why had he gone to the trouble?
“I’ve an old college friend who recently got hired there.” Adam stood and rounded the desk, squaring himself in front of her. “Cole’s a drunk.”
Her throat closed, the information settling in her gut as if she’d swallowed a handful of rocks.
“Seems our golden boy had been so hooked on the stuff that he’d started skipping work. He’d leave during the busiest part of the day. At first, they assumed he was out chasing a story, but when he began missing the deadlines, the bosses knew the truth—he was pursuing the bottom of a bottle. Or he’d be so hung over he missed the day entirely.” His smile nauseated her. “Last straw was when he didn’t show up for an entire week. Didn’t notify the Dispatch. His coworkers thought he’d dropped off the face of the ea
rth.”
“Maybe he was injured.” Her voice trembled. Hadn’t Cole said he almost died? “People usually assume the worst.”
“I don’t know all the details except this … when they found Cole, they told him not to come back.” Adam put his hand on her shoulder as one would a toddler. “You needed to know this.”
She shrugged off his touch. “I don’t know why you think I need to hear regurgitated gossip.” Cole’s pained looked at the gala—when Frank had mentioned the underground speakeasy—flashed in her mind. Since that time, Elissa had wondered at her spontaneous dancing invitation to Cole, but perhaps he really had needed her rescue.
“I’m not addled, Elissa.” Adam shirked his right cuff down. “I see the way the man looks at you.”
It took all her willpower not to suck in a heavy breath. She’d never seen a difference. Cole had always peered at her that way. As if his gaze could stretch into the depths of her, sifting out the phony from the genuine. The main reason why she couldn’t be around him. He knew her. He could see the true her. It proved disastrous the first time. And she wouldn’t let there be a second, but still, to throw shadows on Cole’s character was beneath her. Adam should be ashamed of himself. “It doesn’t matter, Adam. As you can see, I’m a grown woman capable of forming my own judgments.”
His stare turned a degree colder. “I know this. But I also know you and Cole have a history. He may try to turn his charms on you. What if you surrender and then he leaves you again? Alcoholics are unstable. He may beat you. Or worse.”
Her hand flew to her heart. “Adam Kendrew, that’s the biggest bunch of—”
“Elissa, if you’re not going to take any regard for yourself, then consider the future of this paper.”
What nerve. “No one loves the Review more than I do.”
The hard lines framing his eyes softened. “Then it’s clear your father should be told. I’m going to warn him in case Cole repeats his usual habits.”