Текст книги "Family Secrets"
Автор книги: Kate Kane
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 13 страниц)
Chapter 6
Why do they call it hump day
The sound of his phone alarm woke Ben at 5:30 a.m. He dressed and quietly walked to the bed. He reached out with his right hand and stroked Lane’s cheek as he bent to kiss the top of her head. She opened one eye and squinted at him.
“Red, I’m leaving now. I have to go home, workout and shower. I have an appointment at 9:00 a.m.”
He handed her a bottle of water and the BC Powder he’d put on the nightstand the night before. “Here, take this and go back to sleep. I’ll call you around 8:00 a.m. to make sure you’re awake.”
Lane was silent as she obediently poured the white powder on her tongue and chased it with water. She lay back down and closed her eyes. Ben kissed her forehead and left; he drove the few blocks to his house. He changed and went out for his run. It was his usual morning routine. In the summer, he got up at 5:30 a.m., ran five miles, swam 50 laps, did his strength training workout, showered, dressed, had a protein shake, and drove to his office in downtown Kansas City. He was always in the office no later than seven-thirty, often earlier if he was preparing for a trial. He was running a little late this morning, so he skipped the swim.
He hadn’t been in the office since yesterday morning because he’d gone straight from court to the Leawood police station. He glanced at the clock as he pulled into the parking lot. It was 7:45. He’d promised to call Lane around 8:00 a.m. and he wanted to talk to Mickey before his appointment. He parked the car and instead of taking the stairs to his office on the ninth floor, he took the elevator to save time.
As he unlocked his office door, his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number.
“Bellini.”
“Ben, Mick. How’s she doing?”
“I don’t really know. She staved off her headache with alcohol last night. She really isn’t much of a drinker. I’m afraid she’s going to have a hangover this morning, and she’s got a 9:00 a.m. with Telco’s CEO today.”
“Oh boy. Well, I hope to have something back from the lab this afternoon. And, there’s something that I think you might find interesting. Have you got some time today?”
Ben looked at his calendar.
“I’m scheduled for a preliminary hearing today, but I should have some time this afternoon.”
“Great. Give me a call on my cell when you break free.”
Ben hung up and dialed Lane’s home number. She answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey, Red, you up?”
“Yes and dripping all over the place. You caught me just stepping out of the shower.”
He wished. “How’s your head”
“Surprisingly clear and headache free.”
“Glad to hear it. Go get dry and have a peach of a day.”
“Thanks. Hey, good luck in court. I’ll talk to you later.”
Lane smiled as she walked back to the bathroom, retrieved, and donned her red chenille robe. She shook her head slightly. Wet droplets fell from her hair.
“Benito Giovanni Bellini, ‘have a peach of a day,’” she said aloud. “Where on earth did you come up with that,” she said as she sat down at her dressing table and combed her hair.
With the local Fox affiliate morning show in the background, she began drying her hair. She rarely had the time to dry her hair completely. It was so thick and heavy that to completely dry and style it would take at least forty-five minutes. She always wore her long strawberry blonde hair up for work. She would dry it to slightly damp then put it up, either in a French braid, French twist, or a bun. She looked at the time displayed at the bottom of the TV. Eight-ten. Time to quit putzing around and get dressed. She put the finishing touches on her make-up and went to the closet. She was glad that she was in the habit of working her way from left to right through the suits in her closet. She spent no time worrying about what to wear. She pulled a sage green silk suit from the left side of the bottom rod in her closet, and a creamy white silk, sleeveless shell from the top rod. She pulled a plastic grocery bag from the top drawer of the nightstand, put it over her head to protect both her clothes from her make-up, and her hair and make-up from her clothes, and pulled the shell on over her head. She removed the bag and walked to the dresser where she pulled out a new pair of ivory panty hose. She went to her shoe closet and selected a pair of sage and cream Susan Lucci pumps. She bent down and pulled a matching hobo style purse from the bottom shelf. She checked the time display on the TV again and quickly transferred the necessities from her Coach bag. She paused at her jewelry armoire and pulled out a peridot cross pendant, earrings, her father’s Elgin watch, and the diamond tennis bracelet from Ben. She took a quick assessment in the full-length mirror, glanced one last time at the clock, turned off the TV, grabbed her purse, and headed toward the garage. She thanked God that she lived only fifteen minutes from the office, and that she had reserved parking.
It was fifteen minutes before nine o’clock when she walked by Meg’s empty desk and into her office. She pulled out her laptop and pushed it into the docking station. She pushed the start button, and unlocked her desk. She pulled out a file folder, stuck it into her portfolio, and headed for the door. Meg had returned and handed Lane a cup of tea with one hand a small stack of messages and a print out of her Wednesday schedule with the other.
“There’s nothing urgent; mostly vendors trying to get appointments to do dog and pony shows. You’re with Mr. Edwards until eleven o’clock. You have a lunch meeting with Mick McGuire at eleven-thirty at Kennedy’s. You have a one-thirty this afternoon with Craig Turner and Murder Mayhem and Merlot meets at seven tonight at Ronda Gilmore’s.”
To Lane’s amazement, Meg had done the whole spiel without taking a single breath. She took the tea, messages, and calendar and headed down the hall to the big corner office occupied by Telco Unlimited CEO Albert Edwards.
Lane wasn’t worried about the meeting. She had them every month. But, she was a little concerned because she hadn’t been able to reach him to let him know about the murder investigation she’d gotten herself involved in. He’d been out of the office for two weeks on a sort of working vacation. She’d called his cell and gotten voice mail. She didn’t think it was the kind of message one should leave on voice mail, especially to a new bridegroom, so she just left a message for him to call her as soon as he got a chance. He hadn’t called back, but given the circumstances, she wasn’t surprised. Al had been in Las Vegas for a trade show where he’d surprised friends, family, and colleagues by getting married.
Al’s first wife, Michelle, had died in a skiing accident in Vail, Colorado the first year Lane was in Kansas City. Friends had introduced him to Barbara about a year ago. Barbara, Babs to her friends, herself a widow was an attorney who specialized in estate planning. Al had sent an e-mail message to his Executive team after the nuptials saying he was taking a few extra days for a honeymoon.
Al’s door was closed. His administrative assistant, Gayle, told Lane to go on in. She opened the door and found Al sitting behind his desk; his chair was turned to face the window. He was just ending a phone conversation with whom Lane assumed to be his new bride. Lane hung close to the door to allow Al his privacy. No matter how old they get, she mused, newlyweds are lovebirds.
Al hung up and turned to face Lane.
“Al, I think congratulations are in order,” Lane said as she approached him and extended her hand. “Good to have you back in the office.”
“It’s good to be back,” he replied as he gestured toward the visitor chairs.
“Well, I hope you still feel that way after we’ve talked.” Lane smiled and told Al about the nightmare she’d been living for the past four days.
“Lane, how awful for you.” Al had moved from behind his desk and sat in the chair next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I think you should take a few days off.”
Lane was a bit surprised. “Al, surely you don’t think I murdered that man.”
Al smiled as he shook his head. “Lane, no one who knows you could think you would kill anyone.” He patted her shoulder. “And, you see, I do know you. I know the way your mind works and, I know you won’t rest until this is resolved. You need the time so you can give this matter your full attention.”
Lane nodded. She knew he was right. She needed time to figure out for herself who killed Paul Gardner. She smiled and reached up to touch Al’s hand. “Al, you’re right. I’ll let Meg know that I’ll be out for a few days. Now, tell me about the trade show.”
When their business discussion ended, they stood and Al hugged her. “Lane, call me any time. You know Babs and I are here for you, whatever you need.”
As she walked toward her office, Lane dialed Ben’s cell phone number. As she expected, she got his voice mail. She smiled. Ben always turned his phone off when he was in court. “Hey, it’s me. I just finished my meeting with Al, and I’m going to take a few days off. You know me. I just need some time to think about what’s been happening. I have some things I need to wrap-up today. It’s Wednesday so you have hoops. And, it’s the last Wednesday of the month, so I have book club. Call me on my cell later.”
As she passed Meg’s desk, Lane asked Meg to come into her office. “Close the door,” Lane said as she sat at the small conference table.
“I’m going to be taking a few days off.” She began. “I know you’ve been wondering what’s been going on this week. So, here goes. While I was at the movies Saturday night, I discovered a dead man.” Despite the look of confusion and alarm on her administrative assistant’s face, Lane continued. “The man was murdered. Mick McGuire is the homicide detective investigating the case.”
Meg nodded. “I see, you were a witness and you’re just helping tall dark and handsome with a murder investigation.”
Lane smiled. “Well, not exactly. It turns out that I have a connection albeit tenuous with the deceased. So, I’m not helping Mick so much as I’m his prime suspect.”
Meg audibly gasped and quickly put her hand over her mouth as she began shaking her head back and forth. After a few moments, during which she’d processed the information, Meg placed her hands on the table and began laughing. “You’re joking, right? This is some cock-a-mammy story you’ve concocted for the counselor, to explain why you’ve been spending so much time with Mick, right?”
Lane reached over and patted Meg’s hand. “If only, but the sad fact of the matter is that it’s the truth. I just spoke with Al, and I’m going to be taking a few days away from the office.”
Before Lane could continue, Meg jumped in. “Al can’t possibly think you killed some stranger.”
“No, Al doesn’t think I did it. But, he does know me, and I need some time so I can figure out for myself what’s going on.”
Lane stood up and got two Diet Dr. Peppers from her mini fridge. She handed one to Meg. “I’ll be here today long enough to wrap up my meeting with Craig and to talk to Bob. I know you’re the perfect picture of discretion, so I’m not going to say anything silly like ‘don’t breathe a word of this’. It’s just that I haven’t spoken to my kids about this, so if they call, just tell them I’m taking a few days off.”
Meg knew that Jess was at UCLA and that Jake and Jamie had gone to visit their dad in Omaha. She nodded. “I guess this explains the headaches this week. I’m not sure it really explains lunch with tall, dark, and handsome three days in a row though.”
Lane looked at her watch and made an exasperated groan. “McGuire. I’m late again.” She grabbed her purse.
As Lane headed toward the door, Meg said, “So, do you want me to schedule the meeting with Bob?”
Lane turned and winked. “You really are a God send. Make it for three o’clock.”
Chapter 7
Irish Stew
Lane rushed into the parking garage and clicked the remote to unlock her car. She shook her head a bit. She had no idea why she’d left the top down and locked the doors. She started the car and looked at the clock. She had ten minutes to make it from Corporate Woods through the lunchtime traffic zoo. There was no way on God’s green earth.
She pulled into Kennedy’s parking lot at eleven-thirty-five. Mick stood just inside the door and watched as she approached. He shook his head slightly. Once again, he wondered if she was ever on time for anything. He held the door open for her. She pulled off her green Foster Grant sunglasses, flashed a million dollar smile, lowered her head a bit, and looked up at him through her eyelashes.
“Late again. I apologize. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” She said as she touched his arm.
Minutes, hours, weeks, months, years. Maybe in fact he’d been waiting his whole life for her. He shook his head wondering where that had come from. “Not long.”
The hostess seated them and gave them menus. The waitress came by and took drink orders.
“So, to what do I owe the honor of three lunches in a row?”
The waitress brought the iced teas, told them the special, and said she’d give them some time to look over the menus.
Mick smiled and touched her hand. He hadn’t noticed before how soft her hands were. “Today is completely unofficial. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And, I wanted to warn you that we’re probably going to talk officially again. I cut it short yesterday because I thought I recognized signs that your headache was coming back.”
Why did he have this nearly overwhelming urge to take care of her? She was, after all, an adult. And, she was apparently dating Bellini who was one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the city. She didn’t need Michael Patrick McGuire to take care of her.
“I’m fine. It’s so nice of you to be concerned,” she said and flashed that smile again. “I am going to take some time away from work though. I think it’ll help with the stress level.”
She noticed he was wearing his glasses again. What was it he’d said yesterday? He usually wore contacts, but Saturday had been a long week. Lane was a news junkie and she hadn’t seen, heard, or read anything big going on in suburban KC. She wondered why he was wearing his glasses.
“I have a couple of meetings this afternoon, some things I need to wrap up. Don’t worry, officer. I have no intention of leaving town.”
“I told you this is unofficial.” God, was she flirting with him? He shook his head; he had to be imagining it.
The waitress came back. They both ordered the Irish stew.
The conversation he’d had yesterday with Lt. Franklin flashed through Mick’s mind. He shook his head and told himself that his protective feelings for Lane were because of his longtime friendship with Ben. Yet, his hand still rested on hers.
He hadn’t dated much in the four years that had passed since Gloria died. When friends had tried to fix him up, he’d say he was too busy with work. The truth was that he didn’t think he was up to dating in the 21st century.
~~~~~
Mick and Gloria had grown up together. Gloria was two years younger than Mick was and for a long time she was nothing but his kid sister’s best friend. When he left for college, she was a knock-kneed kid with glasses, braces, and pigtails. But, the summer he finished his freshman year, something happened. He answered the door and there she stood, with a knock out figure stuffed into a red bikini top and daisy duke shorts, wearing contacts behind her sunglasses, her blond hair hanging loosely just below her shoulders, dangling a set of car keys and asking if his kid sister was home. Luckily, for him, his sister breezed by him and went out the door. Gloria turned around, pulled her sunglasses down her nose, and winked at him. “Welcome home, Mickey.” She’d said as she turned and walked toward her car. He didn’t know how long he stood there holding onto the doorknob, but he was hooked. They got married just two weeks after she graduated from high school. They were both good Catholic kids who believed that sex was something that should wait until after the wedding. Although he’d been propositioned his fair share during the years that he and Gloria had been married, he’d never been unfaithful.
~~~~~
The waitress placed their salads in front of them.
“I don’t know why, but I’m absolutely starving,” Lane said as she gently pulled her hand away from Mick and picked up her fork.
Mick knew why she was starving. Based on his conversation with Ben, she probably hadn’t eaten since the pie she had for lunch the day before. Lane was uncharacteristically quiet as they ate. Maybe it was because she was very hungry. Mick suspected it was because she was worried.
Mick’s phone rang. “McGuire.”
Lane looked up as Mick held up a finger and then pointed toward the door mouthing that he was going to take the call outside. It must be official business, she thought.
As he walked toward the door, Mick turned around and watched as Lane sat quietly sipping her tea.
“Ben. I got some preliminary tests on the screwdriver I found yesterday at Lane’s. They say there were no fingerprints on it, although I can’t really say that’s good news. At least not until the lab guys are totally finished with it. The blood analysis isn’t finished yet.”
“Mickey, I appreciate the heads up. Look, I know Lane and I know she’s not involved in this thing. No matter how it might appear. No matter what the rest of the evidence might turn up.”
“I haven’t known her long, but I tend to believe that too. Besides, it makes no sense that she’d wipe the prints from the murder weapon and leave it under her own bed where it could be so easily discovered. Trust me; I’ll get the guy who did it. Listen I have to run. See you at the gym later.”
Mick closed his phone and headed back toward the table and thought about the fact that he’d forgotten to mention to Ben that he was having lunch with Lane. There was no question about why he’d taken the call out of Lane’s earshot. He didn’t want her to worry. He’d been the cause of too many headaches this week already.
Lane closed her eyes as she placed her tea glass on the table. She could feel that nagging headache humming in her head. She blindly began searching in her purse for a BC powder.
Mick quietly sat in the round booth opposite Lane. After Lane had chased the powder with a drink of iced tea, she opened her eyes and gave a half smile to Mick.
“It’s just stress. Believe me.” Their waitress came by with their Irish stew.
Lane flashed that smile again. “Did I tell you I’m taking a few days away from the office? Maybe as long as a couple of weeks.”
“Yes, you did mention taking some time off, but I had the impression it was only a couple of days. Why so long?”
“My daughter’s going to be home for a few days starting this weekend. So, I’m going to take some time with her and the boys.”
Mick watched Lane carefully as she spoke. The detective in him said there was something she wasn’t telling him. Both the man and the detective wondered what it was.
“All three kids? Jess is coming in from L.A., what’s the occasion?”
Lane rubbed her temple. Why on earth had she broached the subject of her birthday?
“It’s for a birthday. Mine actually. Ben’s throwing the party. Although, I think it’s supposed to be a surprise, I’m inviting you.”
Mick had been a cop for a long time. He knew better than to get personally involved with a murder suspect and yet he heard himself saying, “Sure, I’d like that. When and where?”
Lane smiled again. “Officially, you have to check with Ben, but I’m pretty sure it’s this Saturday, at eight o’clock, at Ben’s house,” she said as she reached into her purse for her cell phone. She knew by the ring, that it was Ben.
“Hey, how was your morning,” she said as she clicked the talk button.
“My morning brightened when I got your message. How was your meeting with Al? Is he forcing you to take time off?”
Lane smiled. “Well, he did suggest it. He said he knows I’m innocent.” At that, she looked up and smiled at Mick. “And that he knows how my mind works, and that I’ll be obsessed by this thing until it’s over. I’m going back this afternoon to wrap up some things. But I’ll be out of there by five.”
“So, maybe we could grab a quick bite to eat. You have book club and I have hoops but that’s at seven. How about I pick you up at five-thirty?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Bye, Red. You be careful out there today.”
“Bye.”
Lane looked across the table at Mick and smiled. “Ben.”
Mick couldn’t help but notice that her whole face lit up when she said his name. He thought he might sell his soul to have her light up like that because of him.
While Lane was on the phone, the waitress had retrieved their empty stew bowls and left the little tray that held the check. Mick put some cash on the tray. Moments later, the waitress stopped and picked it up. Mick told her he didn’t need change.
Lane reached for her purse. “Thanks for lunch, Mick. I know it’s not polite to eat and run, yet, duty calls. I really do need to get back to the office.”
Mick stood and helped her out of the booth. “Lunch was my pleasure. Maybe when this is all over, we could do it again.” She might be dating Bellini, but he didn’t see a ring on her finger. And, he knew Bellini to be a player of the first degree. It was just a matter of time until she was available.
