Faceless

by Alexandra Ivy

  Noah shook his head. “He might have decided things were spiraling out of control,” he said. “We know he tried to get money from his ex-wife, and next his son, but that fell through. Then he might have remembered that Sander kept money in his safe.”

  “That explains how the toothpick ended up on Grandpa’s kitchen floor.” She deliberately paused. “But not how Erika got there.”

  Noah released his breath in a loud gush. Bits and pieces of his theory might fit the mysterious events, but the rest... “Let’s hope that Chelle has more luck figuring it out than we have.”

  Climbing out of the Jeep, Noah opened the back hatch to grab the crates of vegetables. By the time he reached the brick building, Wynter had the door open and the lights switched on. He strolled into the kitchen, making a sound of pleasure. He’d grown up in a restaurant, and there was nothing better than the scent of dried herbs and a faint tang of lemon. It drove away the horrifying images of Erika and the pool of blood that leached into the tiled floor of Sander’s house.

  At least for the moment.

  “I love the smell when I walk in here,” he told Wynter.

  She smiled with obvious pleasure, busily stashing away the crates. “Tomorrow it will smell even better. Flossie will be in at four in the morning to start baking bread.”

  He leaned against the stainless-steel counter, folding his arms over his chest. “You’ve created a masterpiece.”

  “Yes, I have,” she agreed without false modesty.

  “Do you ever consider expanding the business?”

  “Yes, I just got word from the city that they approved my plan to add on additional seating outside.”

  “No, I meant another restaurant.”

  “Oh.” Wynter shook her head, effortlessly moving around the kitchen as she pulled out pots and pans from an industrial-sized dishwasher, arranging them on the stove as if preparing for an early morning rush. “Not really. Quality control is the reason Wynter Garden has been so successful. I know that every plate being served is made from the freshest ingredients and cooked by someone I trust. Even my waiters have been here from the beginning. They treat the customers like family.” She sent him a smile. “Usually because they are family.”

  Noah felt a surge of pride rush through him. This woman had created a business that the savviest entrepreneur would envy. But she hadn’t stepped on others or bullied her way to success. She’d turned her dream into reality. And more than that, she’d filled this place with love.

  That was more important than anything she served on a plate.

  “I like that.” He moved to wrap his arms around her waist, tugging her against his body.

  She tilted back her head to meet his gaze. “What?”

  “A woman who knows exactly what she wants and is satisfied when she gets it.”

  She flushed with pleasure. “What about you?”

  “Am I satisfied?” He waited for her nod. “I will be.”

  “When?”

  He smiled down at her. “When I have the woman I love agreeing to be my wife.”

  Her flush deepened. “Noah—”

  He didn’t know what she intended to say. Even as the words formed on her lips, the sound of shattering glass split the air.

  Chapter 27

  Wynter darted beneath Noah’s arm, avoiding his effort to keep her in the kitchen. Dashing into the dining area of the restaurant, she took in the sight of splintered glass that sparkled like diamonds scattered across the floor. Oddly, her first reaction was relief that it was one of the narrow windows that ran along the side of the building and not the large pane in front that was painted with WYNTER GARDEN in dark gold. The cost of replacing it would be considerably less. Her second reaction was a need to confront whoever was responsible.

  With brisk steps she hurried to pull open the door, ignoring Noah’s aggravated demand that she wait. If it was the killer, why would they throw a rock through the window and alert her to their presence? It was much more likely they would try to sneak up on them.

  No, this was the work of some petty vandal. And she intended to find out exactly who was responsible. Stomping into the empty lot, Wynter expected to see a group of kids who assumed the building was empty. Instead she caught sight of an expensive black SUV parked next to Noah’s Jeep and a middle-aged woman in a black pantsuit standing next to it with a rock in her hand.

  Wynter halted in shock. Noah, however, stepped next to her, calmly holding his weapon in his hand.

  “Put down the rock,” he commanded in a voice that demanded obedience.

  Linda Baker sniffed, several tendrils of blond hair escaping from her tidy bun to dance around her flushed face.

  “Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Linda released a hysterical laugh. “Go ahead. My life is over.”

  “Noah.” Wynter grabbed Noah’s arm as he took a step forward. She didn’t think he intended to shoot the older woman, but he most certainly was going to run her off. Before he did, she wanted to know what had gotten into the normally frigid secretary. “What are you talking about? Why would your life be over?”

  “Your father retired this morning.”

  Wynter frowned. “I know. He told me he was going to.”

  “And I was politely asked to clear my desk.”

  That caught Wynter off guard. It hadn’t occurred to her that this woman would be fired at the same time. The new dean would need a secretary, wouldn’t he? Or she?

  Then Wynter realized that her father must have confessed why he was retiring. And the whole sordid affair would have been exposed to the powers that be, destroying Linda’s career at the college.

  “I’m sorry, but what does that have to do with busting my window?” Wynter demanded.

  Linda’s blue eyes were no longer icy. In fact, they blazed with a fierce emotion. Hate.

  “It’s your fault.”

  Wynter stared at her in confusion. “What is?”

  “Everything.”

  “That covers a lot of territory.” Noah repeated his words from the previous night, and Wynter smiled wryly at his teasing.

  Linda, however, wasn’t amused. Lifting her arm, she waved the rock she still clutched in her hand. “This isn’t funny.”

  Noah narrowed his eyes. “Throw that and I’ll hog-tie you and drag you to the police station.”

  “If it hadn’t been for you, Edgar would never have retired,” Linda snarled, but she did drop the rock. Clearly she wasn’t so lost in her fury that she didn’t sense Noah meant every word he said.

  “I wasn’t the one having a secret affair with my secretary,” Wynter reminded the older woman.

  “No, but you were the one who was so childishly jealous you couldn’t bear to see your father happy.”

  “That’s not true,” Wynter protested. “Of course I want Dad to be happy.”

  Linda shook her head, her hands clenching at her side. “You don’t even realize what you’ve done, do you, you selfish bitch?”

  There was a low growl from Noah as he took another step forward. Obviously his patience with Linda Baker was at an end.

  “No.” Wynter tightened her grip on his arm. “I want to hear what she has to say.” She returned her attention to the older woman. “What have I done?”

  “After your mother died you turned her into a saint.” There was a shrill edge to Linda’s voice. “Edgar should have told you the truth about her, but he wanted you to have your fantasies.”

  Wynter couldn’t argue. She had put her mom on a pedestal and her dad never tried to destroy her illusions. It probably had been better for both of them to acknowledge that Laurel Moore was as human as everyone else. A woman with virtues and faults.

  “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have remarried,” Wynter countered.

  “And replace the perfect Laurel Moore?” Linda mocked. “Impossible.”

  Wynter shook her head. The secretary was fooling herself if she thought that it was only Edgar’s dead wife who kept them apart.

  “I
f it was impossible, then why did you continue your affair with him?” Wynter asked.

  Linda wrapped her arms around her waist, suddenly looking pathetic. “Because I loved him.” She sniffed back tears. “I was willing to take whatever he could offer me.”

  Without warning, Noah made a sound of disgust. “Including a ride up the career ladder.”

  Both women glanced at him in surprise.

  “What?” Linda asked.

  “You latched on to Dr. Edgar Moore because you sensed he was ambitious and was destined to take over the chair of the English department,” Noah accused the secretary. “No doubt you assumed he would someday take over as president of the college.”

  The deepening flush on Linda’s face proved that Noah had struck a nerve. She had expected Edgar to become president of Grant College with her at his side. Obviously it hadn’t mattered whether it was as his administrative assistant or as his wife.

  “There’s nothing shameful in being ambitious,” she protested, her features settling in sulky lines.

  “There is if you sleep your way to the top.”

  Linda gasped at the direct attack. “Don’t you dare judge me.”

  Wynter shook her head, any feelings of pity she’d felt for a woman who’d been kept as a dirty secret for over twenty-five years crushed by the realization that Noah was right.

  “You know I almost felt sorry for you,” she told Linda.

  The older woman stiffened in outrage. “Sorry for me? Why?”

  “You had to know that if my dad genuinely cared for you, he would have married you a long time ago,” Wynter said. “It wouldn’t have mattered what I thought about the relationship. It wouldn’t have mattered what anyone thought or said.” She glanced toward Noah, a lovely warmth chasing away the distress at having her restaurant vandalized by a hateful, bitter woman. “He would have done everything in his power to be with you.”

  “He does care about me,” Linda insisted, her voice still shrill.

  Wynter glanced back. “I’m sure he feels ... something, but Dad is simply incapable of a healthy relationship. I don’t know if it had something to do with how he was raised, or if it was his dysfunctional marriage to my mom, but he’s too selfish to share his emotions.” Her lips twisted as she thought of her own strained connection with Edgar Moore. “With anyone.”

  Linda took a step back, as if hoping to avoid the truth of Wynter’s words. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Wynter wasn’t done. She narrowed her eyes. “But that didn’t matter to you because you were using him as much as he was using you, weren’t you?”

  Linda tilted her chin, her expression defensive. “I loved him.”

  “You loved being secretary to the dean,” Wynter pressed, studying the woman with a new insight into her pretense of devotion. All those years standing guard outside Edgar Moore’s office, offering him whatever he needed, including a warm body in his bed. And in return for her loyalty, Edgar had ensured that she was given the position she craved. “And now that that’s gone, you’re going to walk away from him, aren’t you?”

  Linda lifted her hand to point a finger directly at Wynter’s face. “I didn’t walk away. He threw me out. He said he was ashamed that you found out we were together the night your mother died.”

  Wynter paused. Could her father truly be ashamed? Or was it a convenient excuse to dump the woman he no longer needed in his life?

  Questions that Wynter didn’t really want answered.

  Instead she deliberately glanced over her shoulder. “And in retaliation you decided to vandalize my property?”

  “You hurt me. So I hurt you.”

  Wynter rolled her eyes. The woman sounded like a petulant child, not the professional assistant who’d treated Wynter with an icy contempt for years.

  “Do you want me to call the police?” Noah asked.

  Wynter considered the question. She wasn’t in the mood for the fuss of calling the cops and filling out paperwork. Not to mention the horde of gawkers that was bound to show up. On the other hand, if she didn’t report the crime, then the insurance company wouldn’t pay for the repairs.

  She was busy deciding which choice would cause the least amount of annoyance when Linda interrupted her thoughts.

  “If you call the cops, I’ll tell them the truth,” she warned.

  Wynter froze, already sensing she wasn’t going to like what the woman had to say. “What truth?”

  “Your father and I were at a hotel the night your mom died.”

  “I already know that.”

  With a defiant expression Linda headed toward her SUV. “Did you know that hotel was in Pike?”

  Wynter watched Linda squeal out of the lot, her hand pressed over the unsteady beat of her heart. If the older woman had hoped for a dramatic exit, she’d been amazingly successful.

  The SUV disappeared down the street as Noah wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. She tilted back her head to study his brooding expression.

  “Dad was in Pike the night my mom died,” she repeated the words, trying to make herself accept them. She couldn’t. It didn’t make any sense. “Do you think she’s lying?”

  Perhaps sensing her desperate desire to deny the idea that her dad could have been in the same location her mom had been murdered, he nodded.

  “It’s possible. She was obviously trying to find a way to hurt you.”

  Wynter clenched her teeth. Neither of them believed that Linda was lying. Not when it would be easy to discover the truth.

  “Why would he be there?” she burst out. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “The only way to find out is to ask him.”

  “Yes.” The word came out as a regretful sigh.

  “But not now.” Noah turned her to face the building. “We have other things to worry about.”

  Wynter clicked her tongue as she studied the busted window. “Damn. It looks like I won’t be opening tomorrow after all.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take you to the hospital so you can check on your grandfather and then run by the lumberyard to pick up some plywood to cover the broken window. Once the glass is swept away, you should be able to serve the hungry masses. I’ll also order a replacement window.”

  Wynter shook her head. “It’s my job to take care of those things.”

  “You have me to help. At some point I’ll need you and you’ll be there for me.” He smiled. “That’s how relationships work.”

  She gazed up at his face that was shockingly handsome in the late-morning sunlight. Her heart filled with a warmth that felt like sunshine. It swelled and spilled through her with a delicious surge of warmth.

  Turning, she leaned against Noah, nestling her head against his chest. “I think I like this relationship thing,” she murmured.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Just like?”

  She chuckled, a small portion of her tension easing. This man made everything better.

  “Perhaps I love this relationship thing.”

  “Me, too.”

  They stood in the empty lot, leaning together for several minutes. The feel of Noah’s solid muscles and the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek gave her the strength she needed. With this man at her side, she could deal with anything.

  “Okay, let’s go to the hospital,” she at last said.

  They drove in silence, but as Noah pulled to a halt in front of the entrance he leaned across to grasp her hand.

  “Don’t leave this hospital until I come to pick you up,” he warned.

  “Honestly I’m too tired to go anywhere,” Wynter retorted.

  Noah lifted her hand to press her fingers against his lips. “Once you’ve visited your grandfather, we’ll go back to the cabin and take a hot bath. I think we could both use it.”

  She shivered at the memory of hot water swirling around her body as Noah moved over her....

  “Sounds like heaven,” she whispered.

  She leaned forward to brush her mouth o
ver his cheek before climbing out of the Jeep and heading into the hospital.

  She wrinkled her nose as Noah’s fresh pine scent was replaced by the astringent smell of bleach. She would be with him soon enough, she reminded herself, bypassing the front desk and taking the elevator to the third floor.

  Her sneakers squeaked against the waxed floor, drawing unwanted attention as she walked down the hall. She flushed as the nurses at the station lifted their heads to watch her pass, but before she could enter the waiting room, a tall, slender man in a white coat hurried to stop her.

  “Ah, Ms. Moore,” the doctor called out. “I tried to call you earlier.”

  Wynter silently cursed. She had to get the stupid phone replaced. Yet another chore that needed her attention. “Has something happened?”

  The doctor smiled, halting any panic before it could get started. “Mr. Moore’s brain swelling has gone down and we’ve taken him off the medication keeping him unconscious,” he told her in soothing tones that doctors no doubt practiced in med school. “It’s possible he might wake this afternoon.”

  Relief crashed over her like a tidal wave. Until that moment she hadn’t realized just how scared she was that the old man wasn’t going to survive.

  “Can I see him?”

  “Of course. He’s been moved to a private room across from the ICU. But don’t push him,” the doctor warned in stern tones. “If—and I stress the if—he does wake, he’ll be weak and potentially confused. Let him take his time recalling what happened.”

  Wynter offered an eager nod. “I will.”

  “I’ll stop by later this afternoon, but if you need anything before then just have the nurse page me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Hurrying down the hall, she peeked inside the shadowed room. Once she caught sight of her grandpa lying on the narrow bed, she tiptoed inside. He still looked disturbingly frail and there were a dozen different wires and tubes and IVs traveling from his body to the machines that surrounded him like an invading army. But there was color in his cheeks and his breathing was deep and steady.