The Witness

Chapter Six

WHAT WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO WEAR to a press conference? Marie knew she was stalling getting ready, but the rebellious part of her wanted an excuse to avoid today. This sunny Friday had one huge obstacle in her path.

“I’ve got a sister who it turns out is only my half sister, a father I met but didn’t know was my dad, a cousin who has read private-detective reports on me… it gets mind-boggling how this day is ending compared to how it began, Luke.”

Her words last night to the chief of police still echoed in her mind. She’d had the nerve to call the man Luke. He’d asked her to, but still… two days ago she would have demurred the invitation and left it at Mr. Granger if she’d dared even go beyond sir. She’d gone a bit mad yesterday: there was no other explanation for just about flirting with a cop who stopped by to check security or finding the nerve to call the chief of police by his first name. There was a reason her gallery was in the recovering part of downtown-she didn’t like the wealthy and powerful as a rule; they made her nervous. Yesterday the nerves had been gone, numbed under the unexpected weight of what had happened. Today the nerves were back to normal and out in full force.

“Mandy, I wish you were here.”

She whispered the words as she chose a dress to wear. If she was going down blushing and stammering before the cameras, at least it would be in one of her best outfits. Mandy had been a natural with crowds, with people, fearless and bold. Tracey would do fine at a news conference too-she liked public speaking. But Marie was glad Tracey was still skiing; there were going to be too many people seeing this news conference for comfort. She couldn’t protect her sister like Mandy could have done, but she would do her best.

God, give me courage. I need to be able to get through this day some-how without falling apart and embarrassing my family. The whispered words were a plea, one of many since last night, but at least a reassurance she wasn’t facing this entirely alone. She’d thought losing Mandy would destroy her, and for years her relationship with God had been more anger and tears and pain than conversation, but slowly the relationship was rebuilding. God was still with her, even after the losses of the last years. That mattered enough to trust Him as these new events slammed into her. She didn’t know yet what to think of it all-whether this was a good turn or one that she would come to regret in the days ahead.

She brushed out her hair a final time and conceded it was the best she could look. She slipped on her long coat and made a point of locking the apartment door behind her before walking downstairs. Daniel had offered to pick her up, but it was just not in her to be focused and smiling and on as soon as she walked out her front door today. She wanted at least that drive time to get a handle on her nerves.

The street bustled with people on their way to work, several carrying hot coffee cups steaming in the cool air, and she thought about stopping at the deli for a bagel and coffee for herself but changed her mind when her stomach again rebelled at the idea of food. Maybe saltines would stay down. She could stop in at the corner store on the way to her car.

“You look quite lovely this morning.”

Her turn was too fast to be elegant, and her blush already too high in her face to avoid showing her embarrassment. She smiled at Connor because she didn’t have words and wildly wondered what he was doing standing outside her building helping hold up the wall.

He held up keys as he pushed himself away from the wall. “Even if you want to drive yourself to the press conference, there’s no way you’re going to want to drive yourself back. So keep smiling and say yes when I offer to take you.”

She didn’t keep smiling, but she did shift her weight on her moderate high heels and let pleasure take the place of panic. “That’s thoughtful of you, Connor.” He looked good this morning, casually dressed in jeans and a button-down checked shirt. There was less fatigue in his face, she thought, noticing the small changes in a face she still thought she might like to paint. The wind was blowing his dark hair across his forehead and adding another wave to those already naturally there.

“So say yes.”

“I’m supposed to meet the contractor coordinating the security changes at nine-thirty first. Daniel arranged it.”

“I know. Peter Towns; he does good work. I just sent him off to get me a coffee. Got extra keys for him? And a list of anything else you thought of?”

She pulled a key ring out of her pocket. “Gallery, apartment, storage rooms-the works. And the list Daniel faxed me this morning was already breathtaking. Is there anything you didn’t recommend changing?”

“I really liked that doorbell you’ve got-the screaming screech. That isn’t changing.”

“It does that because it’s broken; it has been for as long as I’ve lived here.”

“So maybe we’ll compromise, and he can just fix it.” Connor slipped his hand under her arm and turned her without making a big deal of it toward the deli. “We’ll drop the keys off in passing. I’m parked that way anyway. You’ll have new keys for everything tonight, by the way, and a couple extra sets.”

“The contractors will be done today?”

“Sounds like it. The toughest job is the windows, but Peter brought along a full crew of guys. Four hours, five if the doorframes turn out to need to be rebuilt, and you’ll have both security and comfort. No more getting surprised to find a guy lurking outside your front door.”

She laughed at that, because the thought of a cop lurking struck her as funny. Anything would strike her as funny this morning, but he smiled with her laugh, and she let herself relax a bit more. “Is that the only reason you’re picking me up this morning, because I might not want to drive myself home later?”

“Granger did mention he thought you might like someone absolutely normal around today. And I can do a really good bad-cop routine when the occasion demands it if the reporters should happen to get pushy.”

He opened the door to the deli. “Peter’s the guy in the red jacket. He likes to stand out in a crowd.”

The man in the red jacket stepped away from the counter carrying a tray. “I’m not hard of hearing yet, Connor, stand out in a crowd indeed. I had them put skim milk in yours; you’ve been gaining weight again.”

Marie met a man close to being her grandfather’s age as he handed the cop with her the second coffee on the tray. “For you, Marie, I got hot chocolate. Even if you don’t want to drink it, holding something warm will mean he can’t go reaching for your hand like a young courting man.”

She bubbled in laughter because he winked at her.

“I built that building you’re now occupying, laid a good number of those bricks when my hands were still too soft to have calluses. I figure I can fix it up for you while you’re off being questioned by those reporters. Anything you want to add to the boy’s list?”

She swallowed hard at the thought of Connor as a boy but gamely bobbed her head. “It’s a good starting list, and you can feel free to add whatever else you think he has missed to it.”

“Good answer.”

Connor held out her key ring. “I do, however, like the doorbell.”

“Old screech? Sure, I thought you might. I put that in for the grandkids that used to spend their Saturdays pushing the button and darting away down the sidewalk. Now get going before you’re late, and drive her nice, Connor. No sirens and speed just because you’ve got the toys.”

Connor leaned over and kissed the man’s cheek. “Yeah. Bye, Gramps. She’ll be back sometime this afternoon.”

Marie kept her hands firmly around the cup of hot chocolate and didn’t try to come up with a good-bye as Connor steered her out of the deli. “That’s your grandfather?” she whispered.

“On my mother’s side-when he claims me.”

“I like him.”

Connor grinned at her. “So now you’ve met two people who aren’t going to care that you are rich. Think you’ll meet a few more today?”

“Probably not.”

“Then I’m in exclusive company. I like that, and Gramps is too old to do much more than flirt.”

She laughed so hard she nearly bobbled her hot chocolate. “Thank you, Connor.”

“Nerves gone?”

“Entirely.”

He nodded, satisfied. “We aim to please. The car’s over this way.”

“Do you plan to challenge the will and the fact more was left to a nephew than his own daughters?”

Marie struggled against the lights to know which direction she should face to answer that question. The reporter who asked it had already shot four zingers her way, and she could feel the anger turning her stomach into knots. “No, the will provisions are fine. Next question?”

“Will the charity work you spoke about be concentrated in this community?”

“We’ll coordinate with the already generous giving Daniel has announced and see what else we might do together, mainly in the area of literacy and the arts for youth.” She smiled at the reporter she could see off to the right of the bright lights. “Yes, your question?”

“What’s the T stand for? Your middle name?”

“I could say my mother never told me, and I think I wisely never asked; but I’ll simply say it’s not worth repeating.”

Low laughter told her she’d at least made one clean answer. “Yes?” She nodded to the man beside Daniel.

“Would you characterize your reaction as grateful, stunned, surprised? How’s it feel to be told you have a rich father?”

“I already have a very rich father in God; this just closes a loophole I wasn’t aware of here on earth. And it is nice to know the man I met through the gallery was also the man my mother loved many years ago.”

Daniel was moving toward the podium now, and she was relieved to have only a couple more questions to go in her self-imposed fifteen minutes of fame. “Yes?”

“Are you planning to settle in this area or are you going to travel the world for a while and choose somewhere more, say… warm and sunny… as the place you’ll reside?”

Laughter met the reporter’s question.

“While Hawaii has its appeal for the next month, this is home. I’m comfortable we’ll stay in this area.”

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.” Daniel took over the podium with an ease she could only envy, one hand sliding into his pocket and the other resting against her lower back to keep her from immediately turning for the privacy of the hall. “As you’ve asked many times for more details on the trust and will arrangements of my uncle’s estate, and given they will be public knowledge once signed by the judge, I’ve arranged for copies to be available today; please see my assistant, and she’ll be able to provide them for you. On behalf of the family I’d like to caution again that interview requests should come through the Benton Group if you want to have any chance of hearing a yes. We’ll be coordinating several over the course of the next two weeks. I thank you for your time and your patience; that concludes the press conference.”

He nodded toward the back, and the technician killed the microphone. Daniel offered a smile and whispered, “You just survived your first trip into the lions’ den.” He shook his head at the reporters beginning to crowd forward and gestured toward the side door. “What do you say to a few minutes of walking through the roses to relax?”

He had her through the crowd before she realized he’d maneuvered them through. Once out of the small auditorium she took her first deep breath and smiled at him. “Thank you, Daniel. I couldn’t have done that without you.”

“You did great.”

“Better than great,” Connor added, and she turned to see him behind her. “Security needs you out front, Daniel, something about a legal filing?”

“The tender offer was arriving today; thanks, Connor. Keep Marie company? I won’t be a minute.”

“Not a problem at all.”

Marie smiled at Connor and took the soda can he held out. “So I did okay?”

“Massacred them, Marie; though I thought that question about your dress was going to throw you.”

“She’s the fashion editor for the paper. I saw her early on and had prepared for that one. She’s one of the few reporters I at least knew by name.”

“Well, they all know yours now. I imagine there won’t be many quiet walks to the deli for coffee in the next few weeks without someone asking you a question about something.”

She drank her soda and just smiled at him. “That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

“Your nerves are gone again. I like that. My company seems to work wonders.”

“I think it’s called relief. I heard via the grapevine that it’s your day off. Why did you stay? I know you were going to give me a ride home, but Daniel could do that.”

Connor laughed. “And miss the biggest news event of the day?” He let her off the hook with a shift in the question. “As for the day off-I decided to spend it flirting with you. My grandfather is so far my only serious competition; I think I can take him.”

She blinked and laughed. “Find me another soda, okay? I’m parched. Then let’s enjoy the roses and walk paths that I apparently now partly own.”

“See, wealth is going to fit like a nice glove sooner than you think. You want another diet soda or something flavored?”

“Orange if they have it.”

Connor pointed to the bench by the trellis of climbing roses. “Sit over there. I don’t want to be losing you.”

“Sure.”

She watched him head back inside, and she turned toward the roses he had pointed out. It was lovely out here in the covered walkway. She was aware even as Connor left that she still wasn’t entirely alone. The man Daniel had introduced earlier as one of the Silver Security, Inc. staff was standing off to one side of the door, near enough he’d be between her and anyone coming through those doors who wasn’t on the cleared list. She smiled at him briefly, and he smiled back but stayed where he was at. She supposed she’d get used to that kind of quiet, polite watcher eventually. He looked deadly professional and had rather spooked her when first introduced; she’d noticed even Connor had given him a second glance to make sure he knew where the man was standing.

She walked around the trellis toward the waterfall. She was wealthy, she knew who her father was, and all those crazy if-only plans she’d thought of over the years were possibilities for her now. And she wasn’t ready for this. Tears wanted to fall for no reason at all, and she pulled in a deep breath and then another. She trailed her hand through the water cascading down carefully stacked rocks and smiled rather sadly at her own falling sense of joy. All her dreams come true but one, and she was too overwhelmed to take it in and enjoy the moment.

She turned away from the water.

Connor sat on the bench by the trellis, patiently watching her. The second soda she’d requested sat on the bench beside him, and he looked to about have finished the one he had gotten for himself. He smiled and held out a couple napkins. “Your fingers are going to turn blue; that’s practically ice water.”

“You explored it earlier?” she asked, taking the offered napkins.

“This entire place is an exploration wonder. Did you know Daniel has heated lamps under the bench seats so they stay nicely warm on cold winter days?”

“That I didn’t know.”

“The gardener told me. And there are butterflies released within the walkway to help the roses grow, though I don’t know about that rationale. I think they’re just pretty creatures to go with pretty flowers.”

She took a seat beside him on the bench.

“Want to spend the day exploring? This place, maybe drive out toward the lake and find some ducks to watch? You’re not dressed for walking far, not in those shoes, and there’s not a mall in the city that didn’t have a few hundred TV sets turned to that interview, so wandering in to get new footwear is probably not a good idea.”

“Peter’s going to be a while with the construction?”

“Even if he’s done, I bet a good portion of that reporters pool just moved to camp outside your gallery for your return home.”

“Daniel already asked me to stay for a late lunch.”

“Ask him to make it for dinner instead. He’ll understand. It’s not like you aren’t going to be seeing him just about every day for the rest of your life.”

She smiled. “An exaggeration, but there’s a point in there. I’d like to change, but I can do that at the gym where I keep a bag, rather than brave the construction work going on at the gallery.”

“Problem solved. Come on, Marie. Let’s blow this place and have some fun. It’s not every day you announce to the world you’re the luckiest lady around.”

“Tracey is too.”

“I guarantee she was watching that news conference and beaming with pride at your answers. She’s probably got Marsh entirely too flustered at her joy.”

“They’re coming home early, she said. They’ll be back tomorrow midday.”

“Yeah, I talked to Marsh last night a few minutes after you did.” Connor got to his feet and held out his hands. “Today there’s no more business to deal with, just time to let it settle.”

She slid her hands into his, wishing she understood this man and why he was willing to be the counterbalance to the craziness she had going on in her life. As far as she could tell he was doing it because he wanted to, and that hadn’t often happened in her life with guys. And on him the money wasn’t sticking as a fascination or a problem, and that just didn’t fit.

“You’re wealthy, Connor, aren’t you? That’s why all this kind of slides past you as no big deal.”

He smiled. “I’m a cop, Marie. No one gets wealthy on what the city pays.”

“You’re ducking the question.”

“My grandfather owns a few of the buildings we passed today; would that do? I’m not wealthy, but there’s enough to do what I want, and beyond that, money isn’t something I particularly worry about. Though I admit your cousin probably holds a few of the family pennies in that investment pool he manages. My grandfather was never a man to let a building project go by without betting a couple bucks on its success.”

“You’re one of those guys who drives a pickup truck, hunts on weekends, watches NASCAR races, and has a couple million sitting in the bank?”

He laughed. “Watching the NASCAR races I’ll admit to. Quit trying to figure me out-my mom hasn’t done it in thirty-odd years-and just take what you see as what you get. There really isn’t a lot of layers to figure out.”

“Right, and I’m a natural in front of cameras.” But she smiled. “I’ll quit trying so hard if you promise tomorrow I can wipe away all the embarrassing points of today and you’ll kindly forget they happened. I get too chatty after a morning like this one.”

“I can be as forgetful as needed.” He directed her toward the walk path and gave a quiet nod to the security man. “How about a perfect rose to press into your scrapbook to remember today by?”

Marie glanced back, and the Silver Security employee was gone. “What was that about?”

“Transportation. They even do fill-ups if you ask very nicely.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Well, maybe a little.”

“Connor-”

He squeezed her hand. “Cops and security guys, we do our own thing. It’s best not to ask until we’re somewhere over a very long meal. There’s nothing wrong-I promise you that-just well-done planning clicking like it’s supposed to.”

“You’ll explain that sometime.”

“Yep.”

“Then I’ll ask later. I’d like a pink rose for the scrapbook. Something so pink it makes the color pink proud.”

“And try to say that tongue twister ten times fast.” He chuckled and pointed out a rosebush. “There.”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

Connor tried to remember the last time he’d eaten a waffle cone with just plain vanilla ice cream and couldn’t place it, short of maybe a state fair when he was a teenager and an occasion equally designed to impress a girl. “The fudge would have helped.”

“It hides the vanilla,” Marie protested. “They make the smoothest ice cream in the state, and you want to hide it under a layer of sugar.”

“Tell me you at least like mustard on your hot dogs.”

She laughed and reached up to wipe his chin with a napkin as the ice cream dripped. “I do. And I love corn dogs on a stick and saltwater taffy and cotton candy.”

“So next time we’ll come back to the fair when it’s actually open.” He hadn’t known the fairground had a few concession stands open year-round to serve those who worked at the livestock barns and managed the grounds and staffed the weekend convention hall, but Marie had known. So he was wandering across the racetrack trying to avoid stepping in horse droppings while eating a very cold, very plain, vanilla waffle cone for an early dessert.

“Hold on; your sleeve is about to come down again.” She stepped close enough to turn up the cuff twice.

He got in the last two bites of the cone while she finished squaring the corners of his shirtsleeve. The sun was warm on his back and the afternoon pleasant; it was good to be outside with her. And since it was incredibly hard not to just tip her head to the side and kiss her as he’d like to, Connor kept his eyes above her head on the clouds lazily floating past and thought about his odds of maybe talking her into canceling on Daniel for dinner too.

“There, that’s better.”

Connor rested his arms on her shoulders rather than let her step back and checked his watch behind Marie’s head. His grandfather should be done with the security changes by now. He looked down to meet her startled gaze. “I’m seizing the opportunity presented to me.”

She had a nice blush; he liked that about her. “Want to find dinner to go with that dessert?”

“I promised Daniel I’d be there at seven.”

“Phones are good for apologies; I can stick a pocketknife into a tire and give us a flat so you can have a real excuse.”

“That wouldn’t be fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“He’s my cousin; the analogy doesn’t fit.”

“Then how about time is of the essence? I go back to work on Monday. No more days off for way too long in my future.”

She smiled. “Why not just say it was a great afternoon and we’ll go out on top?”

He sighed. “We could do that if we must. I could even call you late, late tonight to chat if you give me that new private number you’re not supposed to give out to anyone.”

She rested her head against his chest and laughed. “I feel like a teenager on a date again, Connor. It’s been an incredibly long while since I could say that.”

“I’m kind of enjoying the flashback too. You, lady, can be very good company.”

He dug out his car keys and pushed the button to remotely unlock the car doors. “Want to pull through McDonald’s and order like a zillion french fries to go and pass them out to every kid we pass?”

“You’re not a cop; that’s got to be a fake badge or something. Your sense of humor never grew up.”

“Or something. It’s a nice gold shield, and they only give those out to boys that play well together. If you don’t want to do the zillion french fries, how about finding a speakerphone and calling Tracey and Marsh? We can compare notes on who goofed off the most today. All they probably did was ski or something tame like that. We did duck calls.”

She swiped the keys out of his hand. “I’m leaving while I can still breathe. I’ve been laughing so much my ribs ache.”

Connor followed her, pleased to see the joy was real and all the traces of nerves were truly gone.

Those nerves would be back this weekend, when she realized the Silver Security guys were still around her, when the chief told her Amy was still alive, when the inevitable cutting words were said by someone who envied the money-he couldn’t stop those things, but he’d done what he could. For a brief few hours he’d forgotten about being a cop and the murder cases on his desk, waiting for his return. And she’d forgotten about the risks that came with the changes in her life. He wouldn’t have given this day back for anything.

He walked to join her. “You’ve got the keys, but I’m not letting you drive. It goes against the guy’s code of honor or some such rule in life.”

She perched on the hood of his car and held out the keys. “I changed my mind; let’s stop by McDonald’s for some fries.”

“I was kidding, Marie.”

“I know. I’m not.”

He took the keys and flipped the ring around to find the one for the trunk.

“What are you doing?” She turned to watch him as he circled the car.

“Getting my bullhorn. If you want to attract a crowd of kids, just call, ‘Free food.’ It works every time, and I don’t feel like shouting.”

“You’d actually do it.”

He smiled.

“We need cash.”

“Daniel floated you a loan for the day; it’s in your purse.”

“What? And you didn’t tell me?”

She retrieved her purse and spotted the envelope. “There’s… oh my-” she turned an odd color of pale-“at least five thousand dollars in here. And it sat in the car with the doors unlocked most of the afternoon while we fed the ducks.”

“Not many people think to steal from a squad car, at least not on this side of town.”

“You really should have said something.”

“Holding that much money makes you go kind of yellow pale; I don’t think you’re entirely sure it belongs in your hands yet. It was easier not to tell you than to see the reaction.”

“I know it’s just money, but it’s not just money, you know?”

He came around to lean against the car beside her, and the teasing disappeared. “I know.”

“What am I supposed to do with being rich? Leave it sit in a bank account when so many could use a helping hand? Give it away, and in a few years find I’ve done nothing but give it away? Spend it all on things I enjoy?”

“There’s no right answer. God might be wise enough to judge the intents of your heart and what you choose to do over the next years, but the rest of the chorus of voices you’ll be hearing saying do this with it or that will just be random noise. Follow your heart. It’s your money, not someone else’s, and uniquely your task to sort out.”

“I wish the situation was reversed and you had inherited the money.”

“I don’t.” He smiled at her. “You’re a thinker; your gallery reflects that, your love of painting. Major money takes thinking to figure out what to do with it. I’d rather be out chasing car thieves and answering old ladies who hear cats and think prowlers have come by.”

“And occasionally working murder scenes.”

“Marsh and I take what comes with the days. You want to go get those french fries, or have you changed your mind?”

“The intent is good, but there’s probably a better way to pass out free food to kids than hollering at them with a bullhorn. Maybe I’ll sponsor a kids’ night at the ballpark and give away hot dogs.”

“With mustard.”

She smiled. “With mustard.”

He opened the passenger door for her. “You’re going to do fine being rich, Marie. You’ll see.”

Connor had been to the chief’s house a few dozen times in his life, but it had never become comfortable ground, and coming by in the evening hadn’t changed that. The barbeque pit out back was fine, but the private office tucked at the back of the house-the inner sanctum of the chief’s territory-it was the place sheriffs from the surrounding area came to put up their feet and privately compare notes on crimes and cops and who was cutting it and who was not. It was not the place mere cops wanted to be, and he’d be sitting in that office soon.

Connor waited by the kitchen door while the chief opened the refrigerator and found cold drinks. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat? I’ve got a few steaks set back and the grill is still hot; or there are sandwich fixings that can quickly pile together.”

“I’m fine, Chief.”

Luke found himself a soda and passed another one over. Connor studied the man he worked for as he opened the soda. The man had come up through the force from a rookie walking the streets to end up as chief of police. Connor respected the work and focus that journey had demanded, and he knew it had come with experiences Connor wasn’t sure he would want to ever face himself. Granger looked tired tonight, like he hadn’t slept much in the last twenty-four hours, and Connor wondered just what it really was he’d stepped into. The chief’s call late last night had answered some of the questions, and the request that he help cover Marie today while they worked on the security picture-that had been no hardship. But what he was seeing tonight said there was more to it than that.

“Sam will be here shortly.”

“It’s no problem. There are few places I need to be tonight.”

It was personal for the chief-that was the only thing that made sense, the fact this was being worked late at night, quietly on the side, said the case was not only sensitive but also personally important. To the best of his knowledge, the chief had met Amanda Griffin only once or twice and briefly at that three years before. It made him wonder. But he also understood some of it. If the oldest sister was anything like Marie in personality, it didn’t take much time to form an impression that mattered.

“What’s your opinion of Marie after today?”

Connor smiled. “Tiger shark wearing a lei.”

Luke chuckled. “You had a good afternoon.”

“She’s roughly my age, remembers high school as I do, gets nervous in an endearing kind of way, and has a laugh that makes a guy want to dive into it. She’s still pretty real for a rich lady-lots of layers, but not the hard-shell, polite kind of layers.” He stopped talking, for he was trying to fit a whirlwind of reality into something that could be conveyed to another cop, and it just wasn’t coming out right. “I like her.”

“Can she handle the fact her sister is alive?”

“Alive, yes. That Amy’s spent the last eight years running for her life-I don’t think Marie has had anything in her life to prepare her for that kind of reality arriving.”

“What about Tracey?”

“Marsh would have a better read. I don’t know. I think it’s all around going to be one incredible shock.”

Connor felt a nudge and looked down to see Wilks looking for some attention. He reached down to rub the dog’s head. Chester had met him earlier only to disappear out through the dog door to explore outside.

“Silver Security was covering Marie when you left her?”

“He put two of the best on her-James Anthem and Michael Tate. They were outside Daniel’s place, and they’ll stay on her back to the gallery apartment. The security improvements seem to have done the job for tightening the place up. Marie will be fine upstairs.”

“You introduced her to the man who will be the visible security around the building and gallery?”

Connor nodded. “Jonathan tapped Tom Bryce for the job; he put her at ease pretty quick with that smile of his. She seemed satisfied that his presence around the gallery will be enough to keep the reporters and thrill seekers in check. The fact he could also take down a professional hit man we just kind of glossed over.”

“Better that way, I think.”

“The sisters can’t stay in that cocoon for long; they’ll slip coverage not even realizing why it’s so important to have around.”

“I know. This is at best a stopgap arrangement for a few days while we sort things out.”

“Daniel knows?”

“No. You, me, Marsh, Sam, Jonathan-the world that knows Amy is alive is staying under a handful until I’m sure we understand the risks. Word gets out she’s alive before we’ve found her again-you can be sure it will make the search we’ve made so far be like child’s play compared to the effort it would take then.”

Lights crossed the window. “There’s Sam now.”

The chief went to meet him and Connor waited. Sam Chapel was the kind of man a cop could respect and admire but also want to stay an uneasy step away from. Sam did the type of investigations that weren’t illegal, just often distasteful. He found out facts that could form-if not a case which could hold up in a court of law-a slate of truth about a matter. When you had to know something, you called Sam. And one way or another he figured out what the answer was. The fact the chief had made the call to Sam on this case told Connor more than he probably should know. The chief didn’t work off the books from his own pocket unless the information was both highly charged and extremely dangerous to know.

The men came in. Sam was still very much the broad-shouldered, thick-chested, powerful defensive tackle who could control his environment without much effort. Connor had to stop himself from stepping back to give the man more room.

“Connor.”

He nodded a greeting in return rather than shake hands. “Sam.” The investigator had come into his profession after a side trip through the navy, and his hands still had the strength of a man accustomed to wrestling ships into line.

Connor followed Sam and the chief back to the office. He was involved even if he wasn’t sure he wanted to be, and about the only thing he knew for certain was the next few days were going to be a challenge.

Connor knew the reason Amy Griffin had run, the reason Richard Wise wanted her dead, but listening to the two men who had carried the knowledge of Amy’s flight around with them for years made him feel like he was eavesdropping on a private conversation. He stood inside the door to the chief’s office, one hand resting on the bookshelf and the other holding the cold soda, and he listened and he learned. This was now his problem too. Not only because his partner, Marsh, dated Tracey, but because he personally liked Marie.

Sam flipped back through his notebook and then simply closed it. “Amy’s last known location was Minnesota, twenty months ago. There’s no need to be more specific than that-you can safely be sure I’ve turned that lead upside down without results. She’s been cold since then. Nothing passed to the federal officers she works with. No contacts or attempts to make contact that I can discover. No inquiries by third parties that would raise the concern. She just for reasons of her own dropped out of sight.”

“Again,” the chief added with a grimace.

“She does like to run solo.” Sam shifted in his chair. “I do know she monitors what is going on in this town and with her sisters. The news conference this morning-odds are good she knows about it now or will know about it in the next twenty-four hours.”

“And if Amy is watching for news-Richard Wise and his crew will be watching too,” the chief said. “Maybe not quite as closely, but the fact Amy has two sisters is known to them. The fact those two sisters just came into a chunk of money-it’s not if Richard Wise will act but when and where and how. He wants money out of this family; he’ll take it from Amy first, but he’ll go after the sisters if that’s the only way to get it.”

“Amy’s going to be worried for her sisters’ safety and with reason. She’s going to be heading to this town; it’s the only reasonable conclusion,” Sam said.

“She’ll contact you surely?” Connor asked.

Sam looked his way. “Maybe. Amy knows I’ll already be doing what can be done to watch out for her sisters. She’ll assume Richard either has my office bugged or has someone following me.”

“Will he?”

Sam shrugged. “Years back he sent someone to break into my office in order to pilfer through the file after I’d been in New York, probably on the assumption I had a lead written down regarding where Amy might have gone. I used that fact to feed back some false information that may have bought her some time. I’ll be hoping they use the same tactics again this time. Whoever arrives will have to get information from somewhere. You can be certain they’ll have someone following the sisters, expecting Amy to make contact there. You can also assume they’ll be paying for inside tips from anyone even remotely close to the family, their friends, the reporters around them. They’ll be wanting to know movement times and places and who is important to them. Consider what is coming to be a case of information warfare. But if they locate Amy before we do-she’s going to be dead.”

“Assuming she’s not already dead,” the chief said quietly. “We don’t know why she went silent. What was the longest silence before this?”

“Six months.”

Connor winced.

The chief just absorbed the bad news and nodded. “Do you know how much of the money she had turned in? All of the accounts, some of them?”

“She still had one final batch of accounts and the oldest of the logbooks to deliver when she went cold. My guess, she’s still holding something between five and ten million. The feds are hoping against hope she’ll still make contact and turn them in.”

“The oldest log-it’s likely the one with information about what got the boyfriend’s father in the sights of Richard Wise to begin with.” The chief leaned forward in his chair. “We need to know a great deal more than we do at present about Richard Wise and his current organization. How much control he still exerts from jail, who in New York might be at the top of the list to see disappear from there and show up here.”

“I know the New York cop to ask; I’ll be flying out and back tomorrow.”

“And if they don’t send anyone?” Connor asked.

Sam looked back at him. “Then they already know Amy’s dead. But even then I think they’d still send someone to come after the sisters for the money.” He got to his feet. “I know Amy well enough to know it’s not that easy a thing to get a jump on her. I believe she’s still alive and she’s going to be heading to town to watch out for her sisters. Jonathan’s guys are in place for the security, so I’ll put my focus on Richard Wise and getting the latest out of New York on who might be coming this way to cause that trouble.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“I can find my way out-you two need to talk some more.” Sam left the office.

Connor took the seat Sam had vacated. “What are you thinking, Chief?”

“If Amy’s going to make contact, it’s going to be in the next forty-eight hours.”

“What’s the plan if she does?”

“That I haven’t figured yet.” The chief tapped his pen on the pad of notes he was working from. “The Silver Security guys can cover Marie and Tracey for the most part-the gallery, their basic routines. The problem is if Amy contacts one of the sisters rather than Sam. If we’ve got one or both of the sisters trying to slip away for a private meeting with Amy and if Amy is the one giving them a list of steps to take to shake any tails-I don’t think there will be enough Silver Security guys around the sisters, at least not in close enough, to be able to stop it.”

“Tracey isn’t going to keep a secret like that from Marsh. I have to believe that.”

“Probably not, but Amy calling Marie is the more likely first contact. And if she stresses the danger-Marie may get convinced to go alone.”

Marie didn’t strike Connor as particularly foolish or suicidally brave, but her sister calling-Marie would go alone and never hesitate on it. The thought didn’t sit well with him either. “We need to tell the sisters that Amy is alive.”

“I know. But I’m not willing to raise hope only to have to tell them Amy spent years running and died twenty months ago. At least not for the next couple days. After that there may be no choice but to tell them.”

Connor understood that. “Marsh and I can keep in pretty tight with them for the next forty-eight hours. The weekend makes that pretty easy to handle, and the number of reporters around does at least contain where the sisters are going to want to go. Daniel can help too. The sisters will be spending time with him at places where we’ve already got security established. The gallery and their apartment flat is covered. Is it enough?”

“The sisters have got money, and Richard Wise is going to want it; so how does the trouble come?” the chief replied.

“A kidnapping or threat of one,” Connor finally said, dreading the very thought of it.

“That’s what I think too. Forty-eight hours and we’ll have to tell the sisters why the security bubble has to stay tight and close. I just hope Amy comes in before then.” The chief pushed aside the pad of paper. “Are you okay with this, Connor? I realize it’s turned into a pretty personal thing from the initial favor you were asked to do for Daniel.”

“Don’t worry about it. Marsh dating Tracey would have had me in the middle of this anyway, and I find I like Marie a great deal too. It’s no hardship.” Connor got to his feet. “Marsh and Tracey are due back tomorrow midday. I’ll touch base after I’ve talked with him. Chief-” He hesitated to ask the question.

“Ask.”

“You and Amy-it sounds very personal.”

“She wrote an ‘if I die’ letter; my name’s on the envelope. And I’m wondering if I’m about to get it in the mail.”