Season of Secrets (13 page)

“Stubborn,” he muttered, and quickened his pace. As she'd said, let's get this over with.

The door to 203 stood slightly open. “Carr? Jasper Carr, are you here? It's Marc Devlin.”

Nothing. He glanced at Dinah. Her eyes were wide in the gloom.

“Carr?” He tapped on the door, and it swung open.

It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. Carr lay on a couch, legs sprawled half off. A bottle had fallen from one hand to the floor.

“He's drunk,” he said, disgust in his voice. And then something about the stillness, the rigidity of the body, began to penetrate. “Stay here,” he ordered Dinah, trusting that his tone left no room for argument.

He crossed the room until he stood staring down at the man. Reluctantly he put his fingers on Carr's throat, searching for a pulse. There was none. Whatever Carr had intended to tell him, he'd never hear now. The man was dead.

 

Dinah sat in the captain's office at police headquarters, not sure how long she'd been there. Long enough, at any rate, for the shaking to subside.

She took a steadying breath and then raised the foam
cup of coffee to her lips. It was just as bitter as Tracey always insisted, but it did serve to warm her.

She found Tracey studying her. “This really is bad coffee.” She tried to keep her voice light, tried to erase the worry that clouded Tracey's face.

“If I'd had more time, I'd have stopped for some of the good stuff.” Tracey ran her hand through her hair in a characteristic gesture. “You feel any better?”

She nodded. She and Marc had been separated from the moment they'd arrived at headquarters. She'd been shown into the office, and Tracey had been hauled in to take her statement, probably out of deference to her status as a civilian police employee.

Marc had been shown no such consideration. He was in an interview room with Draydon. She could only hope he'd remembered his own training and refused to say anything until he called an attorney.

She shifted in the hard metal chair. “How can Draydon possibly think Marc had anything to do with Carr's death?” She shouldn't put Tracey on the spot, but she couldn't hold the question back. “I was with him when we found Carr. Or does he think I was involved?”

“Of course not. He doesn't know that it was murder. He's just trying to cover all the bases, that's all. I'm sure you'll both be free to leave soon.”

Did Tracey really believe that, or was she trying to make her feel better?

“There was a pill bottle open next to him.” She was driven to talk about it, even if Tracey couldn't respond. “It could have been an accidental overdose.”

“We'll know more about it after the autopsy.” Tracey surveyed the outer office, as if hoping someone would come to rescue her.

“Or it could have been suicide.” Maybe the coffee was doing some good. Her mind seemed to be working again. “If it was, isn't that as good as an admission of guilt? Carr must have killed Annabel.”

Tracey hitched her chair closer. “Listen, Dinah, you know I can't talk about it.”

“I know.” She reached out impulsively and grasped her friend's hand. “I know you're just here because we work together.” A thought struck her, taking her breath away. “Or is that all over? Will they refuse to give me any more work because of my involvement in this case?”

“I won't lie to you, Dinah. It's not going to do you any good around here, at least not unless this business is cleared up quickly.”

“So I'm persona non grata, is that it?” There was more bitterness than the coffee would produce. All the work she'd done to be accepted here was going to go for nothing.

“Look, don't worry about it this early in the game.” She gripped her hand. “You know I'm not giving up on you.”

“Thanks, Tracey.” She shouldn't burden Tracey with her troubles. It wasn't fair to her, when there was nothing she could do.

“Let's talk about something else.” Tracey sounded determinedly cheerful. “How was your aunt holding up when you talked to her?”

She'd called Aunt Kate the moment she'd been
allowed to, afraid she'd hear something on the radio or television and panic.

“She surprised me, actually.” She noted the sad-looking artificial Christmas tree on the corner of the captain's desk. “I tend to forget how strong she is. Just because she's physically weak now doesn't mean she's lost any of that moral fortitude. She has Court with her, and he'll stay there until we get back. She and Alice are teaching him to make taffy, whether he wants to or not.”

“I can imagine how a teenage boy is reacting to that.” Tracey smiled. “Your aunt—” The door opened.

Dinah's breath caught. It was Marc. “What happened? Are you all right?”

Tracey rose. “I'll just leave you alone for a few minutes.” She went out, closing the door behind her.

Marc shook his head, his face grim. “It's hard to tell what Draydon thinks. He's predisposed to be suspicious of me, obviously.” He sank into the chair Tracey had vacated. “I can't say I blame him. I'd react in the same way if it were my case.”

“Unless he wants to believe I was in on it, he can't believe you harmed Carr. I was with you.”

He shook his head, leaning forward but not touching her. “It's not that simple, sugar.” The endearment seemed to slip out without his noticing it. “I don't know what the coroner will say, but Carr had been dead for a while. They could conclude that I killed him earlier and then came back with you, hoping that would allay suspicion.”

“That's ridiculous.” Anger warmed her. “Draydon's
thinking is too convoluted for a police detective if he thinks that.”

He shrugged. “Well, let's look on the bright side. I didn't see a note, but that doesn't mean there wasn't one. If Carr committed suicide it will go a long way toward clearing me, even if he didn't leave a note.” He reached out, his fingers closing over hers. “I just wish you hadn't been there. Aunt Kate will scalp me for involving you.”

“Aunt Kate is fine. She—” The door opened again, and suddenly her heart raced.

Draydon stood in the doorway. Marc straightened, dropping her hand and rising.

“Did you want to talk with me again?”

Draydon looked as if he'd like to say yes, but instead he shook his head. “You and Ms. Westlake are free to go. For the moment.”

She stood, grabbing her jacket, only too glad to get out before he changed his mind. But Marc hadn't moved. His jaw tightened.

“What does that mean?” He sliced off the question.

Draydon held the door politely. “The investigation has a long way to go. You should know that, Counselor. But I'm guessing we'll find that Carr knew something about your wife's death and was foolish enough to try and blackmail a murderer.”

Marc shouldn't say anything. She grabbed his arm, her fingers digging in.

“You heard him, Marc. Let's go home.” She tugged him toward the door, breathing a little easier when she got him past Draydon.

“Just one thing.” Draydon dropped the words as they passed him. When they both looked at him, he smiled.

“Don't leave town,” he said gently. “Either of you.”

D
inah's steps slowed as she and Marc approached Aunt Kate's front door. She paused, looking up at him. “Maybe we'd both best take a minute to put a smile on.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you honestly think we'll fool anyone?”

“I don't know.” Her heart twisted at the thought of Aunt Kate's frailty. “But we have to try and keep Aunt Kate from realizing how serious the situation is. She gets so frightened for me.”

His hand closed over hers. “She loves you. You're all she has.”

“I know.” She shivered as a breeze ruffled her hair, rustling the leaves of the hundred-year-old live oak they stood under. “She's all the family I have, too.”

“We're family.” His fingers tightened almost painfully. “Court and I. Even if we're not Westlakes.”

Family. However much he might deny it, she was still Annabel's little cousin to him. “I know.”

“It's probably best if Court doesn't know all the details either,” he said. “The difficulty will be keeping
them from him. He's very resourceful. If I don't answer his questions, he'll look up the newspaper on the Internet.”

She had to smile at that. “I suppose he would, wouldn't he? Well, all we can do is try.”

They stepped onto the piazza, and he reached for the door handle. “Odd, isn't it? My decision to leave town came just a little too late. Now we can't.”

Draydon's words seemed to hang in the air.
“Don't leave town, either of you.”

Well, she had no intention of going anywhere, but Marc and Court should be safe back in Boston by now. The thought left an empty feeling where her heart should be. Sooner or later they'd leave, and she'd have to learn to get along without them. It wouldn't be easy.

Marc opened the door, and they stepped into the warm hallway, lush with a sweet aroma. Court plunged from the parlor to meet them.

“Hey, are you guys okay? What happened? Did you do CPR on the guy?”

Marc sent her a despairing glance over his son's head. “Yes, we're all right. No, we didn't.” He wrapped his arm around Court's shoulders. “Listen, son, we don't want to upset Aunt Kate. Let's try not to talk about it just now.”

Court's face was eloquent in his disappointment. “Bummer.”

“Okay?” Marc prodded.

“Okay. But I think Aunt Kate's really getting a secret thrill out of it, even though she was worried about Dinah.”

“Well, let's go in and assure her that Dinah's fine.”
He gave Court a quick hug before releasing him. “I'll talk to you about it later. Promise.”

“Dinah?” Aunt Kate's voice wavered just a little. “Come in, please.”

She hurried into the parlor, pinning a smile on her face. “I'm sorry, Aunt Kate.” She bent to press her cheek against Aunt Kate's. “It took forever. I hope you didn't worry too much.”

Her aunt's hand caught hers and clung, but she managed to smile. “Court did a wonderful job of explaining that naturally you'd have to tell the police everything you saw. I hope it wasn't too dreadful.”

“Not at all.” She hoped she'd be forgiven the small lie to save her aunt distress. “Goodness, it smells as if you all have been cooking up a storm. What did you make?” She addressed the question to Court, who grinned.

“They taught me how to make taffy. And then Alice and I made about a million of those little pecan cookies. 'Course I probably ate about half of them.”

“No such thing,” Alice said. She stood in the doorway, smiling at him. Court had obviously made a conquest. Alice didn't let just anyone into her kitchen. “You come and help me carry the trays in. Your daddy and Dinah must be starving.”

“We don't need…” she began, but it was too late. Feeding people was Alice's way of coping. Well, it would keep Court busy, anyway. She glanced at Marc, suspecting that he was thinking the same.

He moved around the parlor, as if too restless to sit
still after the events of the past few hours. He stopped by the mantel.

“I see you've done some more Christmas decorating. I remember these angels from years ago.”

Startled, Dinah looked at the mantel. There, tucked among the greens, were Aunt Kate's Christmas angels, fragile china figures dating from a century ago at least.

“We haven't gotten the angels out in years. You always say they're too fragile.”

Aunt Kate gave a little shrug, the lacy shawl she had around her shoulders moving against her green wool dress. “I thought it would amuse Court. And he's very dextrous, for a boy.”

“I didn't break a thing.” Court came in from the kitchen, carrying a tray with the coffee service.

“See that you don't start with the Meissen china,” Alice said. She began putting plates of cookies, savories, and tiny sandwiches on the coffee table.

“Alice, that's far too much food.”

“Speak for yourself, Cousin Dinah.” Court snatched a chicken salad sandwich. “I'm a growing boy.”

“Leave some for the rest of us,” Marc said. “It's not often I get to have some of Alice's shrimp paste, and I'm sure it's still the best in Charleston.”

Alice beamed. “I'll just bring out some of that hot chocolate young Courtney likes. Dinah, you should drink it, too. Better for you than coffee.”

“I suppose it's pointless to tell you I'm one of the grown-ups,” she said.

Alice paused in the archway, turning to deliver a parting shot. “You're not so grown-up as all that.”

“Alice, you're under the kissing ball.” Court grinned, putting his arm around her and kissing her cheek.

Alice swatted him, but her eyes glowed with laughter. “Just for that, you come along and carry the hot chocolate in.”

“That boy,” Aunt Kate said indulgently. “He spotted the kissing ball in one of the boxes and wanted to know what it was. Nothing would do but that he hang it up right away.”

“I hope he didn't tire you out.” Marc bent over to take one of the delicate china cups Aunt Kate held out to him. “It was good of you to have him here.”

“Of course he'd come here,” she said. “We're family.”

There that word was again. Family. Aunt Kate would never see Marc as anything but Annabel's husband, and there was no changing that.

Well, at least the crises of the past few days seemed to have mended whatever reserve she'd held on to against Marc. She was treating him as she always had.

Court came back in with the hot chocolate and solemnly poured a cup for Dinah. As he bent to hand it to her, he grinned. “I'll get you some coffee, if you'd rather.”

“You'd better not disobey Alice. She always gets her way. Although judging by that kiss, you've already figured out a way to her good side.”

“You don't think she minded, do you?” His face grew serious. “I just wanted to distract Aunt Kate. I wouldn't want to upset Alice.”

What a kind heart he had. “Court, no one could be upset at a kiss from you.”

He seized her hands in his. “Then it's your turn, Cousin Dinah.” He tugged her, laughing, under the kissing ball and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek.

She hugged him, smiling. She'd told Marc they mustn't upset Court and Aunt Kate, but it was really Court who'd managed to cheer everyone.

“Come on, Dad.” Court grabbed his father's arm. “You have to give Dinah a kiss, too.” He shoved him toward her.

A wave of panic swept through her when Court pushed them together. Marc's arms closed around her. He couldn't kiss her here, like this, in front of everyone. She looked up, hoping Marc would turn it away with a laugh.

But the laughter in his face seemed to slip away as he looked at her. His eyes darkened.

She was suspended in the moment, unable to speak, to move, to do anything to turn away the inevitable. Marc bent, it seemed in slow motion, and his lips found hers.

The kiss couldn't have lasted more that a few seconds, but truth could be seen in the momentary flash of lightning.

They'd managed to distract Court and Aunt Kate from the danger, but at what cost? She couldn't deny what she felt for Marc any longer, at least not to herself. She was in love with him, and there was no future in that at all.

 

“Dinah?” Aunt Kate called her name as soon as she came downstairs the next morning. “Is that you?”

“Of course.” She hurried into the breakfast room, giving Aunt Kate a reassuring hug. “Who else would it be at this hour of the morning?”

“I'm being silly, I suppose.” Aunt Kate fumbled with her teaspoon. “I just wanted to be sure you're all right.”

“I'm fine.” She poured a cup of tea and helped herself to a piece of toast. She didn't really feel like eating, but Aunt Kate and Alice would worry themselves to death if she didn't.

“You had a terrible experience.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I know all of you tried to make light of it, but it must have been dreadful, finding that man. Marc never should have taken you there.”

“He didn't want to. I didn't give him a choice.” If only there was something she could say that would allay Aunt Kate's fears. But she was afraid, too. Afraid for Marc, with the cloud of suspicion hanging over him. Afraid for Court, who must not face losing his father.

“I always thought Annabel was the stubborn one.” Her aunt dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. “You've changed since Marc came back.”

“Don't think that.” She put her hand over her aunt's. “I'm the same person I've always been. It's just that having to face things about Annabel's death has made me more—aware, I guess. Responsible.”

“You've always been too responsible. Too serious. Even that summer, trying to take over with Courtney when Annabel—” She choked.

Dinah patted her, alarmed. “Don't, darling. Don't upset yourself this way. It's going to be all right.”

Even to soothe Aunt Kate, she couldn't seem to make that sound terribly convincing. How was it going to be all right? What if Marc were charged? Her feelings were of small concern next to that very real possibility.

“No. It isn't.” The strength in her aunt's voice startled her. “I failed. I failed Annabel. And you.”

“Don't be silly. You've always been there when I needed you.”

Aunt Kate gripped her hand with feverish intensity. “I should never have sent you away. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I know it was wrong. We should have faced it together.”

“You did your best. That's all anyone can do.”

Aunt Kate had probably kept herself up most of the night, worrying herself into this state.

“I failed you both.” She shook her head. “Even with Annabel right across the street, I couldn't keep her from grief.”

“What happened wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault except the person who did it.”

Her head moved tremulously from side to side. “I knew, you see.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “And I didn't confront her. I should have, but I was afraid. I didn't want to lose her.”

“What are you talking about, Aunt Kate? What did you know? Something about Annabel?”

Her heart was suddenly beating in sharp, quick thuds, and she couldn't seem to get her breath.

Aunt Kate covered her face with her palms. “I knew, and I did nothing.”

She didn't want to hear, didn't want to know. If Aunt Kate had been afraid, she was, too. She didn't want to know.

But she had to. For Marc's sake, and Court's.

She took her aunt's hands gently in hers, drawing them away from her face. “It's all right. Really, it is. Just tell me about it, and I'll take care of it.”

Tears spilled quietly onto Aunt Kate's cheeks. “It was Annabel. That summer. I heard her. There was another man. She was seeing another man.”

Her throat was so tight she couldn't possibly push any words out. But she had to. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” It was the barest whisper. “I'm sure. I heard her, talking to him on the phone. Her voice—it couldn't have been anything else.”

She couldn't think, just yet, of all that implied. “She didn't know you heard her?”

“No. I slipped away. I should have confronted her. If I had, maybe it wouldn't have happened.”

“You mustn't think that. There's no way of knowing. Talking to her about it might have made things even worse.” Although how they could be worse, she didn't know. “Who was he? The man. Who was it?” Dread gripped her heart.

“I don't know. I never knew. I never heard his voice. Just Annabel's.”

“You didn't have a guess?” She'd been an oblivious sixteen-year-old who'd seen nothing, even when it was right under her nose. But Aunt Kate had been an elderly woman, who'd surely seen enough of life to notice something—a look, a word.