Dark of the Night Page 26

  She cried until Mr. McKafferty’s fur was soppy and her nose was stuffy, Adelaide’s hand still placidly smoothing her hair. Finally, with a sniffle, she pulled back, still clutching the bear, her breathing ragged, her tears spent.

  “Things have a way of working out, honey.” Adelaide’s knowing gaze was comforting. “You just have to give them time.”

  “But what if there isn’t any time to give?” Riley searched the older woman’s face for reassurance.

  “Then you have to make choices.”

  “And if the choices are too hard?”

  Adelaide laughed. “They’re never that hard, child. Not if you listen with your heart.”

  Riley sighed, certain there must be a primer to life and that she was the only one missing it.

  “You just have to trust in yourself, and everything will be all right.” Adelaide squeezed Riley’s hands and released them, her voice matter-of-fact again. “So where in the world did you find this bear?” She held Mr. McKafferty up to the light, his tattered bow drooping on either side of his chin.

  “I don’t know. He was just here.” She looked at the little bear, fear reasserting itself. “I think maybe someone is trying to scare me.”

  “Now why would anyone want to do something like that?” Adelaide reached over to pat her hand. “More likely one of the staff found him and thought maybe he was yours.”

  “But after twenty years?” She fought against her rising panic.

  “Riley, your father wanted the attic cleaned. I’m sure that someone found the bear up there and thought maybe he deserved a better home. I’ll check into it, you can be certain of that, but I doubt there’s anything sinister in his appearance.”

  Riley drew in a deep breath, feeling foolish. Of course there wasn’t anything sinister about a stuffed bear. She smiled sheepishly. “I guess I sort of overreacted.”

  “It’s to be expected, honey. You’ve been through a lot in the last few days, and when you add in the stress of the campaign, it’s not surprising your imagination is on overdrive.” She stood up, reaching into her pocket, and handed Riley a stack of phone messages. “I almost forgot. I thought you might want these.”

  Riley nodded, her emotions securely under control again. “Have you seen Daddy?” She needed to find him, to tell him about Caroline—about Jake.

  “You just missed him, I’m afraid. He and Leon went off to a meeting or something about an hour ago. Said they’d be back by nightfall.”

  “I see.” Disappointment washed through her.

  “He’ll be home before you know it.” She smiled, the gesture warming Riley all the way through. “Anything else you need from me before I go?”

  “Go?” She frowned up at Adelaide, her thoughts still muddled. “Oh God, this is your day off. Adelaide, what are you doing spending it in here with me?”

  The housekeeper smiled. “Honey, don’t you know by now, there’s no place else I’d rather be?”

  Riley reached up to hug her. “I love you too, Adelaide. But I’m fine now. So get out of here. Enjoy what’s left of the day. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Remember what I said, Riley.” Adelaide’s expression grew serious. “Everything happens in its own time. You just have to be patient. Shall I take Mr. McKafferty with me?”

  Riley shook her head, reaching for the bear. “No. I’d like to keep him here. A reminder of Caroline.”

  “Happy memories, Riley. There were loads of them.”

  “I know, it’s just that sometimes, with all that’s happened, it’s hard to remember that.” She held the little bear close, her eyes still on the housekeeper.

  “The past is what it is, Riley. You can’t change it, and you can’t bring it back. So maybe it’s time to look to the future. There’s a life full of happiness waiting for you, if you’ll only open your eyes to see it.” Adelaide smiled, and then left, leaving Riley alone with her thoughts.

  She wanted the future. Especially if it included Jake. But she couldn’t get past the idea that there were secrets she had to uncover before she could move on. Caroline’s secrets. With a sigh, she pushed her thoughts aside. She wasn’t going to solve anything sitting here feeling sorry for herself.

  She flipped through her messages. There were a couple of appointments to confirm for their upcoming road trip, and a call from a newspaper in Ontario. She’d have to run that one by Maudeen. She stopped at the last message. A call from Harv Burkett.

  Harv was an attorney friend of her father’s, and although Adelaide had marked the message as urgent, Riley couldn’t imagine why the man would be calling her. With a sigh, she stood up, reaching for the phone, tossing Mr. McKafferty on the bed. There was only one way to find out.

  And, at least according to Adelaide, there was no time like the present.

  Chapter 24

  “ALL RIGHT.” DAVID closed his cell phone with a click, just as the waitress came by to refill their coffee. “Everything’s all arranged. I’ve contacted a friend of mine who’s a book conservationist. He’s done some restorative work for the ATF before. If anyone can get those pages apart, it’ll be him. I’ll take it to him as soon as we finish here.”

  “Sounds great.” Jake tore open a packet of sugar and dumped it into his cup. “How long do you think it will take?”

  “Not too long. I told him you were in a rush.” He shrugged. “Hopefully we’ll hear something later this afternoon. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. We’ve had a busy morning. But it looks like we’ve found our bomber.”

  “Who?” Jake leaned forward in his chair, excitement roiling in his gut. Maybe they were finally getting a break.

  “A two-bit thug by the name of Martell Osterman.”

  “Is he in custody?”

  “Not yet. We haven’t been able to run him to ground. But we will.”

  “So you still have no idea why he did this?”

  David shook his head. “Nothing definite. He’s a hired gun. Fancies himself to be something special, but he’s not much more than a two-bit hustler looking to make the big time.”

  “Not the save-the-babies type, I take it?”

  “No. More the how-much-you-gonna-pay-me type.”

  “Well, that tracks with what we suspected.”

  David nodded. “I’d say it’s looking pretty good. But we won’t know anything for certain until we have the son of a bitch in custody.”

  “And when do you think that will be?” Jake asked.

  “Soon. According to his bank records, he doesn’t have the wherewithal to get very far. And based on what we know of him, I don’t think he has the intelligence to realize how close we’re getting. So with any luck, we’ll nab him by tonight.”

  “Which leaves me playing the waiting game.”

  “Well, unless I miss my guess, you’ve abandoned the Jake-hates-women school of thought. That ought to give you something to occupy your time.” David’s grin was just shy of goading.

  “Your guess is accurate. But the celebration may be a little premature. There’s still the little matter of Daddy to deal with.”

  “The almost President.”

  Jake nodded. “Riley says she wants to break free of him, but to quote an old adage, I think that’s easier said than done.”

  “It’s understandable though. You’ve got to admit that.”

  “I suppose.” He contained a sigh. “I’m trying to be patient. At least until we get this mess straightened out. But I’m not going to wait forever. Sooner or later she’s going to have to choose between Carter and me.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a choice you can expect her to make, Jake. The man’s her father.”

  “Well, I love her too, damn it. And either that means something or it doesn’t.” He sat back, running a hand through his hair.

  “I think maybe you’re preaching to the choir here. The person you need to be talking to is Riley.”

  “I tried to. This morning. But then we found the journal, and things sort of deteriorated
from there. I think she’s going to tell her father about us. At least, that’s what she said.”

  “But you’re afraid she’ll change her mind.”

  “Carter O’Brien is a persuasive man. And like you said, the man’s her father.”

  “Sounds like you’re between a rock and a hard place, my friend.”

  “More like a rack, with Carter O’Brien turning the screws.”

  “So you sit back and play the waiting game. I don’t see that you have any other choice.” David finished his coffee and reached for his cell phone. “In the meantime, maybe we’ll catch a killer.”

  Jake nodded, his mind still on Riley and her father. Waiting did seem to be his best option. Problem was, he wasn’t a waiting kind of guy. And push come to shove, he doubted Carter O’Brien was the type to give up the kingdom without a fight. The man was a powerful adversary, and he was after the man’s most precious treasure.

  And to top it all off, this was the twenty-first century, and these days, princesses got to make their own decisions about where to go and whom to love. And best he could tell, despite all her talk to the contrary, his princess wasn’t inclined to leave the kingdom.

  Jake sighed. Leave it to him to walk into the middle of a fractured fairy tale.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Harv Burkett stole a look at Riley as they walked down the prison corridor.

  She fought with a smile, trying to maintain her ice queen image. For a woman afraid to make waves, she was becoming quite adept at it. Meeting with a convicted felon was all in a day’s work. “I wasn’t certain myself, and I still don’t really understand why I’m here.”

  “I actually don’t know much myself. Haywood just called me this morning out of the blue and asked me to get you down here.”

  “And he didn’t say anything about why?”

  “Nothing more than what I told you over the phone. Just that I should ask you to come for old times’ sake. You an old flame or something?” The lawyer was obviously curious.

  “No. More like childhood pals. Haywood’s family lives near ours. We used to play together when we were little.”

  Harv nodded, like that explained everything, though it clearly didn’t.

  “He said he had information for me, right?” She prayed this wasn’t a wild-goose chase, that despite the odds against it, there was a connection somehow to everything that had been happening. “About my sister?”

  “Yeah. But that’s all I know.” He stopped in front of a barred door. “This is it.”

  Riley stopped too, her eyes glued to the door. “You’re going in with me, right?”

  Harv shook his head. “He wants to see you alone.”

  She shot a look at the burly guard standing by the door. “Is that normal?”

  “No. But not unheard of. And it’s what Haywood wants. The guards don’t think there’s a risk, and frankly, neither do I.”

  “But . . . ?” She pushed, sensing his hesitation.

  “Look, Riley, I urged him to let me be present. I have no idea what he wants to tell you, but I have to think it’s something pretty damn important, and I don’t like the idea of him talking about that sort of thing without his attorney present.”

  She relaxed. If the man’s biggest concern was what Haywood might say, then she had nothing to fear. Besides, any discomfort she felt would more than be made up for if he had something to tell her that could help.

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She smiled at Harv, hoping he couldn’t see the trembling in her hands. She’d never been in a prison. Let alone in a room with a convict.

  Of course, the convict was Haywood. And although she hadn’t seen him in years, they had been friends once, and that counted for something, surely. Besides, what harm could come to her in a prison?

  She thought about Bryce Daniels, and shivered.

  “I’m ready.”

  The guard opened the door, indicating that she should step inside. As the door clanged shut, her first thought was to try and stop it. The noise sounded so final—so permanent. Her second thought was that, except for a table and two chairs, the room was empty.

  Completely empty.

  She turned around, ready to bang on the door, to tell the guard that there had been a mistake, when she heard another rattle. This one behind her. Swiveling back around she realized there was another door, and Riley waited as it slowly opened, not certain what to expect.

  He was a mere breath of a man. A shadow, really. His blond hair was cropped close to his head, and he was lean to the point of emaciation. There were circles under his eyes, so dark they seemed almost bruised, a startling counterpoint to the pallid white of his skin. But what was most arresting about him was his eyes. They were flat, haunted looking—the pain reflected there almost a physical thing.

  Somewhere underneath it all she could see the shade of the boy she remembered and the man he’d no doubt become. A man who had possibly been vibrant. Maybe even handsome. Certainly more alive. It was there in his stance, and in the set of his jaw. But it was no more than a shadow, the essence of what had once been.

  Decimated was the word that came to mind, looking at him. And should he lose his tenuous hold, she had no doubt there would be nothing left but the empty shell of what had once been a man. She smiled weakly, uncertain of what to do or say.

  “Riley?” Haywood smiled, the gesture transforming him, his eyes lighting with joy. “Is it really you?”

  She nodded, and almost as if they had choreographed it, they sat opposite each other at the table, she clutching her purse, Haywood clutching a battered cardboard box. “It’s been a long time, Haywood.”

  “Since we were kids.” He ducked his head in a familiar gesture, and she remembered suddenly that he’d been painfully shy.

  Riley resisted the urge to touch him, to offer comfort. He seemed so sad. So lost. “I was so sorry to hear about your wife.”

  His head jerked up, the pain back. “I never meant to hurt her. You have to believe that.”

  “Of course I do.” She met his gaze, willing him to believe her. “It was a horrible accident. Everyone knows that.”

  “But I’d been drinking.”

  “And I’m sure you live with that every day, Haywood, but that doesn’t mean you meant to kill her. Douglas Michaels was on a vendetta. I never thought you belonged in here.”

  He nodded once. As if she’d given the proper response to a question she hadn’t realized she’d been asked. “I have something for you.”

  “Something about my sister?” Riley prompted.

  Haywood opened the box, reverently removing the lid and laying it on the table. Then, just as carefully, he reached inside and removed a yellowed square of paper, handing it to Riley.

  It was old, curling at the corners, browning on the edges, and when Riley looked down, her heart caught in her throat. In the same spidery scrawl that had adorned her journal, Caroline had written on the piece of paper.

  I’ll love you forever, C.

  The date was February 1980—the year Caroline died.

  With shaking hands Riley turned the paper over, already certain what she would find on the other side.

  Her sister’s beautiful face looked up at her, caught for all eternity in a careless grin. Tears filled her eyes, and with a will of their own, her fingers traced the smooth line of her sister’s cheek.

  She raised her eyes to meet Haywood’s, an incredible thought entering her head. “Did Caroline give this to you?”

  Haywood’s eyebrows rose, a spark of something shooting across his face. “No. No. It wasn’t me. It belonged to one of the prisoners.”

  “You’re telling me that someone in here had a twenty-year-old picture of my sister?” Her voice rose almost to a shriek, the pressures of the last few days reflected in every word.

  “I’m in here. And you didn’t think it odd that I’d have her picture.” There was quiet dignity in his voice, and Riley was ashamed.

  “I’m sorry, Haywood. That was tac
tless of me. Will you tell me who it belonged to?” She reached over to touch his hand, and he stared at it as if he’d never seen such a thing. Then he lifted his gaze, studying her, and finally, seeming satisfied, he nodded.

  “He was a friend of mine, actually. A real good man. He—” Haywood ducked his head again. “—he helped me out. Kept me out of trouble.”

  Riley forced herself to hold onto her patience. She needed to know whose photo it was. She needed to talk to him. Find out how he’d come by it. “I’m glad you have a friend.”

  “Had, actually. He’s dead.”

  “Dead?” Hope died as quickly as it had been born.

  Haywood nodded again, his face clouding with grief. It was obvious from his reaction that he cared a great deal about his friend. “He died early yesterday morning. That’s why I have the box. The guards gave it to me. Didn’t think there was anything there that mattered. But they were wrong, Riley. He’d hidden it in the lid. See?” He lifted the box to expose a tiny slit between the paper lining and the corrugated cardboard. “Nobody thought to look there.”

  “I still don’t see why—”

  “He had the picture?” Haywood’s expression was thoughtful. “Me either. But I figure if it was important enough to hide away, it must have meaning. Maybe it even has something to do with why he was murdered.”

  “Murdered?” Prickles of dread danced along the hairs at the back of her neck. “You’re telling me your friend, the one who had Caroline’s picture, was murdered here, last night?”

  “Yes. I can’t prove it of course. They’re keeping it all hush-hush.”

  “They?”

  “The administration. Word on the cell block is that it was an overdose. But he never used drugs. Not in here anyway. Said you had to stay alert. Watch your back. Evidently, in the end, it didn’t matter. They got to him anyway.”

  Riley leaned forward, her heart pounding. It couldn’t be, it was simply too much of a coincidence. “What was his name, Haywood?” She fought for breath, certain that she already knew the answer.

  “Daniels. His name was Bryce Daniels.” The words hung in the air between them, as if the man himself were in the room.