Bone Deep (10 page)

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she murmured distractedly. “But my mother did seem inordinately annoyed that I’d brought you here. Makes sense that the chief said something.”

“The chief has told people to be careful what they say to you. That you’re trouble.” Paul considered the hurtful words the mayor had flung at her tonight. “What’s the deal with you and the mayor?”

Jill stared at her plate again. He suspected it wasn’t because she wanted to admire the remnants of her dinner or that she didn’t understand the question. She just didn’t want to face the question. The subject was painful. He could feel her hurt.

She leveled her gaze on his, those blue eyes open, honest. “From the time I was fourteen I had a problem being a twin.” She sipped her wine and considered the stemmed glass before continuing. “I hated being a twin. I wanted to be
me
. So I did everything different from Kate. I wouldn’t dress anything like her, wouldn’t wear my hair the same way.” She sighed. “Got into trouble at school. Refused to obey my parents on more occasions than I care to admit. The whole shooting match. While Kate continued to be the perfect student and perfect daughter.”

There was more. He opted to let her have her say in her own time.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “my father loved us both. And so did—does my mother.” Jill frowned, remembering. “She was different back then. You know, normal.”

Jill was a fighter. She’d been fighting for what she believed in for a long time.

“I dated the boys my parents would have preferred I avoid. I ran with the wild crowd.” She laughed softly. “At least the wildest crowd we had here in Paradise.”

“While Kate focused on her studies and probably dated the same nice guy all through high school,” he suggested.

“Exactly.” Jill studied the gold liquid in her glass as if it was a crystal ball. “I never stopped loving them, I just refused to be what they wanted me to be.”

Paul watched the woman seated across from him as she relived the regrets. She was tough. She still hadn’t given up. Even in her career. Malcolm Teller had a reputation as a pompous ass who just happened to be a fantastic attorney. That Jill could hold on her own with sharks like him spoke volumes about her strong will. It also explained why Teller wasn’t representing her sister’s case. Professional tolerance only went so far. He doubted Jill had any intention of putting up with his crap outside work.

“How did you end up at Ole Miss?” Paul had his own ideas about how that happened, but he wanted to be sure.

“Pigheadedness, what else? They wanted Kate and me to stay close to home and attend Kessler, but I secretly applied to Ole Miss.”

He had to smile. “I bet mom and dad were surprised.”

The silence that followed was telling.

“Surprised is an understatement. They refused to allow me to go,” she admitted. “I went anyway, but I had to do it on my own. Loans, scholarships, and I worked every minute I wasn’t in class.”

That’s where the rift lay in the seemingly perfect Ellington family. A wide, painful gap that could never be completely healed.

“I walked away and never looked back.” She emptied her glass. “Oh, I came back for the occasional visit, but nothing more. I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in my father’s eyes. So I stayed away as much as possible.”

And then he died, sealing her fate. Paul knew the rest. And daddy’s little girl had been trying to make it up to him ever since. That’s what the obsession with helping her sister was about. She loved her sister and wanted to help, but ultimately she had to do it to redeem herself in her own eyes if not her parent’s.

Paul refused to admit that his being here fell along those lines as well. But the truth was he needed redeeming too. He just wasn’t sure this was the place... or the woman to do it despite this bizarre connection to her he felt. If he failed in some way, which was likely if control continued to be as big a problem as he anticipated, his weakness might just prove a devastating mistake for them both.

He didn’t ask any more questions. She looked exhausted. They both needed a good night’s sleep. He resisted the impulse to laugh at that one. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep, at least not without the aid of alcohol. Attempting to start now without his preferred sleep aid would be biting off a hell of a lot more than he was prepared to chew.

As they left the restaurant, she asked, “Do you mind stopping at a convenience store? It’s on the way. I need to pick up a quart of milk. We’re out and Mother will do without before she’ll call the market and schedule a delivery more than once a week.”

“Mrs. Ellington doesn’t leave the house?”

“She goes into the yard to tend her flowers. But she never goes more than a few feet from the closest door. She claims she’s agoraphobic. After my father died, she just stopped leaving home. As far as I know she hasn’t left the house since the day of his funeral.”

Something else to mull over. “Has she sought treatment?” Agoraphobia typically came with panic disorder. There were treatments, counseling and medication.

“She refuses to discuss it. That’s the way we do things here in Paradise.” She glanced at him. “If something is too close to the bone we don’t talk about it.”

It was uncanny how much they had in common. “I can understand that motto.” There were some things no one needed to know.

At the convenience store, Paul waited in the Land Rover as Jill went inside. The storefront was glass, allowing him to follow her movements through the store. Uneasiness stirred in the pit of his stomach, something more than the general bad feeling he had about being back in Paradise.

Jill selected a carton of milk from the refrigerated case and made her way to the counter. A brunette woman, petite and confident, judging by her energetic stride, entered the store. Jill turned to see the new arrival. Paul watched the automatic smile slide across her face. She knew the woman, was pleased to see her. The other woman went wide around her and hurried toward the other side of the store. Jill’s smile faded. The brunette’s movements turned hasty, uncoordinated, completely different body language from only moments before… before she had noticed Jill at the checkout counter.

When Jill climbed back into the passenger seat, her purchase in her arms, she looked puzzled, even a little hurt.

Paul waited for her to mention the other woman.

“That was so odd,” she said almost to herself. “I ran into Connie Neil. She was my best friend back in high school.” She fastened her seat belt as he backed out of the slot. “She was an accessory to a number of my infamous exploits.”

Paul offered the smile he knew she expected.

“I haven’t seen her in years. Yesterday I ran into her at the restaurant. She saw me and gushed about how happy she was I was home and how she couldn’t wait for us to get together.” Annoyance vibrated in her tone. “I mean, there was something a little off, but mainly she acted glad to see me.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Tonight—just now in the market—she gave me the brush off. Couldn’t get away fast enough.”

That was the way Paul saw it. The woman hadn’t wanted to face Jill.

“You don’t suppose the chief warned her off, too.”

No need to answer that one. She knew already.

“Jesus, why is he doing this? Just because I’m taking a different view of the case?”

“There’s always the possibility he sees your actions as a personal affront.” Paul didn’t believe that to be the case but if it made her feel better no harm done. “Your questions might lead the people in
his
town to think
he
hasn’t done his job.”

“Maybe.”

She didn’t sound any more convinced than he was. There was a lot more going on here than met the eye, that was for damned sure.

“I think I’ll just ask him.” She folded her arms over her chest in a defiant gesture. “I have the right to know why I’m being black-balled.”

That fighting instinct again. “You should get a good night’s sleep before you confront the chief.”

Silence hung between them for a few blocks.

“Thank you for coming back.”

For such a fighter her voice sounded small and scared.

He stopped at the intersection of Washington Street, dared to meet her gaze. “Don’t thank me yet.”

~*~

Once Phillips was settled in a guestroom, Jill went in search of her mother. She didn’t look forward to this confrontation any more than she did the one with the chief, but the air had to be cleared. Paul Phillips would be staying in this house, though he had resisted the invitation, until this was over.

Jill found Claire in the family room watching television. Many happy memories had been made in this room. Christmases, birthdays. When had all the happiness drained out of this family?

Deep breath
. She battled back the tears. “Did I have any calls?” Jill checked the answering machine when she arrived and there were no messages.

“No,” her mother said succinctly, her attention fixed on the television screen.

Jill sat down on the sofa next to her and reached for the remote to turn down the volume.

Claire looked annoyed but said nothing.

“Mother, I need you to understand what I’m doing.”

“I want no part of it.” She sliced her hands through the air, then refolded them in her lap. “Basic human compassion won’t permit me to throw out your friend, but I am not in agreement with your actions.”

Jill grabbed her mother’s hand, held it tight when she resisted. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m your daughter, Kate is your daughter. Cody is your grandson. You’re in this whether you want to be or not.”

Claire stared at her, agony and disbelief in her eyes. “You think I don’t know that? My God, I’ve got a husband in the ground, a grandson missing, and one daughter in a psychiatric ward while another is running around making wild accusations.” She snapped her mouth shut as if there was more, but good sense had prevailed.

Jill held her tongue to the count of ten. “Let me explain as best I can the reasons I’m doing the things I’m doing.”

Her mother pulled loose from Jill’s hold and crossed her arms over her chest. Thankfully she made no move to leave the room. At least that was something.

“There are a number of inconsistencies in this case.” Jill took another deep breath and focused on remaining calm. “First, Kate was beaten badly, yet Karl had no marks on his hands, indicating that he wasn’t the one who hurt her. Judging by the crime scene photos, the struggle didn’t even take place in the room where Karl’s body was found. The chief seems to think this is all irrelevant.”

“I don’t want to hear any of this.” Claire’s chin trembled. Tears brimmed on her lashes.

Jill couldn’t stop there. Her mother had to hear the rest. “There is no motive. Everyone insists that Kate and her family were happy, no money problems, nothing. Yet the chief would have us believe that perhaps there’s some unsavory something we don’t need to know about the beating. Something best kept quiet. How is that possible if Kate and Karl were so happy?”

“It’s true,” Claire protested. “They had no problems at all. They were happy.” She said the last with a bit less conviction.

Holding back the questions she wanted to fire at her mother, Jill went on, “If they had no problems, then Karl shouldn’t be dead by his wife’s hand. Likewise, our chief of police should be very concerned how and why one of his citizens was brutally beaten by someone other than her husband.”

Claire paled, her breath caught. “Kate could not have killed him.”

“Mother,” Jill stopped, steadied her emotions, “her prints are the only ones on the murder weapon.”

“I don’t care, there must be a mistake.”

Finally
. “My point exactly.” Jill savored the mini triumph. “There has been a mistake and we must find the truth.”

Confusion claimed her mother’s expression. She blinked, obviously seeing for the first time the dilemma confronting Jill. Or maybe simply growing weary of pretending she didn’t see.

“And then there’s Cody,” Jill pressed on. “Where is he? We both know Kate wouldn’t hurt her son. And he didn’t just disappear.”

Claire looked away again.

Jill ignored the rebuke. That part was more than her mother simply not wanting to hear. She didn’t want to discuss her grandson period. There was something not right about that. “I’m thinking he might have been kidnapped and that the whole thing revolves around Karl’s work at MedTech.”

A gasp escaped the grim line of Claire’s lips. “Kidnapping? That’s absurd. Where do you get these foolish notions?”

Her mother wasn’t this dense or this naïve. “Mother, it happens all the time. As CEO of MedTech, Karl was a wealthy man in the public eye. He and Kate may have been trying to deal with this without involving the police.”

Claire shook her head. “You’re wrong. I would have known. Karl...”

Jill waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “What about Karl?”

“Nothing.”

“Mother, what is it you’re not telling me?”

“I will not speak ill of the dead.”

Jill rolled her eyes and prayed for patience. “Fine, as long as it’s not pertinent to the case.”

Her mother looked her dead in the eye. “You mustn’t involve yourself with Karl or MedTech. Do you understand me, Jillian? I mean it. Stay out of that.”

What did MedTech have to do with anything other than being the source of Karl’s income?

Oh, Jesus.

MedTech was one of the largest medical research corporations in the country. What if they were working on some new drug or healing technique that... what if Phillips had been right when he’d alluded to espionage? Dear God...

“Mother, is there something about MedTech you’re not telling me?” Jill demanded, the whole concept gaining momentum. There was no way to disguise the agitation or the accusation in her voice. She didn’t bother trying.

Claire blinked, looked away quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stood abruptly. “You need to get some sleep, Jill. I think the past couple of days are catching up with you. You’re overtired, overwrought. The police will find Cody. They’ll find the truth. We’ll all be fine.”