Bay Hideaway (6 page)

All in all, Judi did look so very different and yet the same. But for all his scrutiny, he still had a bitter problem to solve that had nothing to do with Judi’s knobby knees or nearsightedness. Too bad her intentions and motives were not as visible and open for analysis.

Did she really believe the nonsense she’d told him or was the entire tale a clever ploy to throw him off balance? If this was all a ruse, he’d have to give her points for ingenuity.

“I suppose you have proof of these allegations?” he finally asked, watching closely for her reaction. “You do have the notes?”

Indecision flitted across Judi’s face. “Do you think I’d show you the evidence if I had it?”

Nathan shrugged. “You’ve asked me to believe that you faked your death to save yourself and your family from a person who wrote you menacing notes. Since I know that I’m not the one guilty of threatening you, then I have to determine whether to believe what you’ve said, misguided as it might be, or whether you’re handing me a line to save your own skin.” He looked at her for a long moment. “Now, will you please answer the question? Did you save any of these supposed threatening letters?”

“I have every one of those letters if you must know!” Then as if challenging him, she shook her head and loosened one hand from the back of the chair to point a finger at him. “And the letters are safely tucked away. So don’t get any ideas.”

Nathan blew out a frustrated breath between his lips. “Then how do you propose we resolve this problem?” When she remained still and silent, he went on. “You seem to be close buddies with that friendly island policeman. Maybe you would like to have him stand guard while we look at the letters? We could even show the letters to him if you’d like.”

Something akin to panic sparked in Judi’s eyes, and he could see the conflicting wheels of thought churning across her face. Just as he thought! Her reaction lent credence to his previous theory that his wife was lying. If the letters were true, why hadn’t she just gone to the police in the first place? Why pull off such an elaborate charade? Wouldn’t the most obvious course of action be to contact law enforcement or someone she trusted? That’s what he would have done. And then there was this skittishness, which erupted every time he mentioned the police. There had to be something behind that, too. Maybe she didn’t want the truth to come to light.

Or was it this particular police officer? What was his name? Larry something—Larry Newkirk. Yes, that was it. The one who was attentive—too attentive.
Don’t go there again, pal
, he chided himself. That line of thought would only serve to agitate the already tumultuous waters and would be of little help with the problem at hand.

It wasn’t as if he really wanted the police involved, either. The implications of Judi faking her death would be enough to rock the Pennsylvania Statehouse right off its cornerstone and down Commonwealth Avenue. If Judi publicly accused him of threatening her, there was no limit to the extent of explosion the scandal would cause. This kind of publicity he didn’t need.

“Well?” He knew there was a trace of annoyance in his voice. “What do you want to do?”

An insolent light gleamed in her eyes, but he refused to back down and met her stare head-on. He could wait her out—all two minutes of it.

“I’ll show you the letters,” Judi announced at last, ending the standoff. Her inflection was filled with indignation, but also fear. “I don’t suppose you’d be foolish enough to pull anything funny in a bank full of people.” She looked at her watch. “Then we’ll see what you have to say when the hard proof is right in front of you. With everything in the open, maybe we can have an honest discussion and you’ll level with me as to why you’re here.”

“I’m all for honesty,” he agreed, regarding her steadily. “And if these letters really
are
in a safety deposit box, I would like to go read them—right now. Let’s put all the cards on the table.”

“One condition!” Judi shifted her feet and gripped the chair again.

Nathan drew an impatient breath. The woman was deliberately hedging for time and trying to stretch his endurance. He kept his voice composed and deceptively calm. “And what would that be?”

“You may look at the letters, one at a time, but I won’t allow you to take any with you, not even one.” She stood poised for a second. “If you try to take anything, I’ll bring the bank employees running and blow this whole thing sky high.”

“Anything else?” This was turning into nothing less than a stage show.

She inclined her head in silence and did not answer. Not immediately. Instead she looked somewhat lost for a moment before responding. “If I think of another condition, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Glad to hear it,” he returned dryly, walking past her to the sliding glass door. Deftly he slid it open. “Ladies first.”

Judi turned a pensive glance to the lake waters before stepping around him and inside. Nathan wasn’t quite sure, but he thought he heard a whisper of what could have been a prayer.
Good for her
, he thought;
she’s going to need all the prayers she can get if this is all a lie.

“Hello, Judi,” greeted the smiling bank clerk when Judi stepped up to the teller window. “How’s your day going?”

“Just fine,” Judi answered with a fixed smile, curling her hair behind one ear. After exchanging what she felt to be necessary pleasantries, she cleared her throat. “I’d like to get into my safety deposit box.”

“Certainly!” The young clerk first glanced at Nathan before nodding toward another counter to the left near the large gated door guarding the bank vault. “Meet me over by the sign-in sheet.” The woman grabbed a large dangling set of mismatched keys that jingled noisily as she slid down from her chair.

Judi smoothed down her full skirt as she walked to the brown-paneled counter, well aware that Nathan was right beside her. He was being unusually quiet and that concerned her. The ride over did nothing to calm the nerves plaguing her since his arrival, and she wondered again if showing Nathan the letters was wise. If she was right,
and she was
, Nathan knew exactly what each note said. But she was safe in the bank. The safety deposit boxes were kept in a barred but partially open room. One shout was all it would take.

Still, she hoped she was doing the sensible thing. A tight little cord knotted in her throat as she reached inside her purse. The tiny manila envelope felt smooth between her fingers as she withdrew it from the inside pocket. Slowly, she tipped the envelope and let the key slide out into her other hand then laid it in front of the clerk.

“Number 243,” she told the waiting teller in low tones, tilting the numbered key for her to verify.

Again, the smartly dressed young woman gave Nathan another perusal. “Let me find your card.”

Judi scrutinized the clerk as she opened a large box and speculated that this woman was already falling under Nathan’s spell—without him even saying a word. How could the man not know how much he affected women?

Several three-by-five cards were flipped forward until the clerk plucked one out and gave it a close look. “This is your first time accessing the box.” There was a note of surprise in her statement, but she shrugged and placed the card in front of Judi. “Just sign your name and date it on the first line.”

Judi did as instructed and slid the card back across the counter.

“Come on back,” the clerk directed, swinging open the half door attached to the counter. “The gentleman will be accompanying you?” she asked politely.

Judi looked up at Nathan’s solemn face and gave the clerk a reassuring smile she didn’t feel. “Yes.”

The clerk turned around, popped a large skeleton key into the lock, and the bolt slid back with a loud clang. The heavy barred door creaked open, and Judi followed the bank teller to the boxes. Finding the numbered box, the clerk stopped to inspect the ring of bank keys, trying three before finding the right match.

“Got it!” the clerk proclaimed in triumph. She took Judi’s key and twisted both sets until the little metal door released. “These can be tricky at times.” She paused. “Will there be anything else?”

Feeling slightly dazed, Judi just shook her head.

“That will be all for now,” Nathan spoke for the first time, picking up the slack. His mouth suddenly softened. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome.” The clerk flashed him a curious smile before turning back to Judi. “The door will automatically lock behind me. Buzz the doorbell when you’re finished and one of us will come to let you out.”

Judi watched as the heavy door banged shut behind the clerk and the security device clicked loudly.

Alone!

Judi blinked nervously, feeling the silence envelop her like a sealed tomb. The room suddenly felt chilly.

Nathan’s voice cut through the quiet. “Do you want me to lift the box?”

“No.” She threw him a swift glance and took a steadying breath. “I can reach it.”

When Nathan stepped back to allow her room, she slid the box from the compartment and carried it to the waiting table, her instantly cold fingers resting on the lid. A frigid shiver of apprehension feathered across her skin. She hadn’t seen or touched the letters since placing them in the box two years ago. The thought of resurrecting this appalling segment of her past weighed heavily on her mind.

She had hoped to never face the nasty accusations and threats again, but here she was, conscious of the growing and searing pain around her fearful heart. Even the deposit box repulsed and burned at her very being, and her fingers impulsively recoiled in agitation and disgust.

“Are you all right?” demanded Nathan, his hand tightly gripping her arm as he guided her less than a foot away to sit in the worn, straight-backed chair to which she sank like a lead-based bottle. Instantly, he was looking down at her with concern, his anger momentarily postponed. “You’re beyond pale and completely white.”

“Nathan—” Avoiding his narrow, probing glance, she turned her head and made an effort to move her arm out of reach. “I can’t do this.” When he slackened his hold, she slumped back in the chair. How she hated the contents of the box that sat before her like an uncommuted death sentence. How she hated her weakness showing in front of Nathan. But rattled or not, she would not be fooled by his contrived concern. She couldn’t!

“Judi, what’s going on here?” he asked, obviously altering his position to look at her more fully. Suddenly there was realization in his smoky gray eyes. “You really do have some kind of horrible letters in this box.”

Judi stiffened. “You know it’s true.”

He didn’t answer right away. He seemed to consider the matter. Without waiting, he lifted the flat lid, ignoring her halfhearted attempt to block his hands, and snatched the folded brown note on top. Quickly, he spread out the wrinkled sheet between his fingers.

Judi watched as he paced the room, his eyes flitting across the page he held at arm’s length, his brows creased deeply in concentration. He stopped and leaned his back against the flat wall of deposit boxes before looking back at her.

“I don’t understand.” Nathan was frowning heavily. “What does the note mean?” He began to read the note aloud. “ ‘I smell a rat. A dirty rat. Have you caught the smell of this rodent in the air? Remember The Olde Village Inn.’ ” He paused a moment to look at her questioningly before reading on. “ ‘Move on before this rat’s demise is your own.’ ”

She felt numb, yet her throat ached fiercely and her eyes pricked with threatening tears. That menacing note had been particularly bad. It had come right before Christmas, expertly gift-wrapped with expensive decorative foil paper. Figuring Nathan had left her an early present, she’d eagerly torn off the paper and opened the equally decorative box.

What greeted her when she lifted the lid sent her reeling. A swollen, dead rat, crawling with maggots, lay exposed. The sender had carefully wrapped the rodent in a sealed bag meant to burst open with the box lid, immediately spewing all its filthy, revolting sights and smells.

“Judi?” Nathan’s voice drew her back. “What’s this letter about? What does the writer mean regarding the Olde Village Inn and a rat?”

Judi drew a ragged breath and closed her eyes as tiny tears squeezed through her already damp lashes. “A dead… rat accompanied the note.”

When she looked up, he was leaning over her, both hands on the table, his face a mixture of shock and puzzlement. She knew he was waiting for further explanation. When she remained wordless, his mouth opened to speak, but he slowly retreated instead, tapping the letter against his hand. Finally he shook his head and exchanged the note for another in the box.

Once again he paced and studied the letter, thrusting one hand into his pocket. “ ‘Sugar and spice isn’t always so nice—is it?’ ” he read aloud. “ ‘Especially when a good Amish girl, her head full of curls, has her hand caught in the till. What a beautiful mug shot!’ ” Again his brow lifted in bewilderment when he turned to her.

“That was the first letter to come,” Judy struggled to explain, her lips trembling, “right after the person filled the gas tank of the Volkswagen with sugar.”