Forget Me Not: A Novel (Crossroads Crisis Center) (18 page)

BOOK: Forget Me Not: A Novel (Crossroads Crisis Center)
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Ben’s house phone rang just as he and Karen finished dinner.

He excused himself and answered it. “Hello.”

“Ben, it’s Gregory Chessman.”

“How are you, Gregory?”

“Fine. Just fine. Is it convenient for me to drop by in about five minutes? I’m out and I wanted to drop off that check for the crisis center I promised you at my dinner party.”

“Sure, I’ll be here.”

“Great. I’ll see you in five, then.”

Ben hung up the phone, thoughtful.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Ben watched Karen clear the table. “Gregory Chessman’s just going to drop off a check for the center.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “Well, I’ll finish up here and then go back to the cottage.”

“No,” Ben said forcefully enough that she stilled. He didn’t want her to leave. Surprise riddled through him, fell hard and fast under an onslaught of guilt. “Stay. I want you to meet Gregory. He’s famous around here.”

She dried her hands on a dishtowel and then tossed it onto the counter. “For what?”

“His generosity mostly.” Ben smiled and guided her to the living room. “If there’s a charity in a forty-mile radius of Seagrove Village, he’s done something significant to support it.”

“Sounds like a good man.” She looked around. “This is the first formal room I’ve seen in the house.”

“I don’t come in here much.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Why not?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded, eager to hear what she would say.

“It’s got that perfect, useless look.” She glanced over at him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She smiled. “I intended it as one.”

He liked her. Blunt to a fault … and unabashedly honest.

“I have the perimeter security mapped out, Mr. Chessman.”

“I heard.” Gregory turned down Brandt’s street.

“From whom, sir?”

“I got a text message from the mayor.” Gregory worked hard to keep his temper under control. “Paul, you do realize one of the boys you hired to run across Three Gables was the mayor’s son, Lance, right?”

Silence.

“Do I need to repeat the question?”

“No sir.” Paul’s voice shook. “No sir, I didn’t know.”

A lie
. Gregory hadn’t gotten to where he was by not recognizing a lie when he heard one. “Let me rephrase the question. Why did you recruit Lance Green for this recon job?”

“I didn’t know the boy was the mayor’s son, sir.” Paul paused. “Have I created a complication?”

Now why had Paul lied to him? Only one reason made sense. He suspected that there was an association between Gregory and the mayor. Paul hired Lance to test his theory. But had he tested it to protect Gregory or to obtain a security pass in case Gregory turned on him? Could be either. Time would tell.

“No, no complication. I’ve taken care of it.” Gregory twisted his hand, gripping the steering wheel hard. “Don’t put me in this position again.”

“No sir. I won’t—”

Gregory snapped shut his phone, certain Paul was either twitching like a madman or had blanked out and frozen in place. He’d be humiliated and rattled to the core at making such a boneheaded mistake. And
well he should be. If this error had occurred with anyone but the mayor, the consequences would have been devastating.

Fortunately, the mayor had chosen his path years ago in forming a strategic business alliance involving property useful for purposes never openly discussed but that had made them both wealthy men. Better, that alliance wasn’t known to anyone else or ever discussed in person between them.

The mayor liked being a big fish in a small pond as much as his wife liked it. He enjoyed sitting in church on Sunday and being admired and respected in his town. He was a proud man. Gregory fully appreciated the obscure relationship between them. Nothing related in any form or manner other than text messages.

That protection made the mayor the perfect secret partner.

11

G
regory Chessman was a sharp dresser and a very attractive man with sandy brown hair, murky hazel eyes, and Romanesque features, and yet something about him made Karen edgy. She couldn’t explain it, but her internal radar had gone on alert the moment he walked through the door.

She stood near the sofa in Ben’s living room and waited for the men to enter. They greeted each other warmly, and that unnerved her too. Why?

Nothing. No idea.

Please, help me remember
.

Still nothing.

They walked in. “Gregory, this is Karen. Karen, this is Gregory Chessman.”

Gregory hesitated, clearly surprised to see her. Was that because Ben didn’t typically have female guests over, or was it her bruises? Or maybe he recognized her.

For a flash of a second, she felt sure he knew her. But then a shield slipped so firmly over his face that she wasn’t sure if she’d seen that flash because it had been there, or because she had wanted to see it.

Stop it, Karen. Your face looks as if you’ve been through a war. Of course he’s looking at you like you’re weird
.

Trying to redeem herself, she walked over and extended her hand. “Mr. Chessman, I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Hello, Karen.” He visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.”

“No. If anyone is intruding, it’s me.” He seemed nice enough, but just looking at him had her upset. “I should go.”

“No, no.” Gregory held up a hand. “I just wanted to drop this by.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope, and passed it to Ben. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” Ben took it. “We appreciate your support, Gregory. Harvey Talbot will be a very happy man.”

“Glad to do it.” Gregory dipped his chin in her direction. “Pleasure meeting you, Karen. Hope to see you again soon.”

“Thank you.” She returned his nod with a stiff one of her own.

“’Night, Ben.”

“Good night.” Ben showed Gregory out and then returned to the living room. “What’s wrong, Karen?”

“I have no idea. But that man scares me right out of my skin.”

“Gregory?” Surprise rolled over his face in a wave. “Why? He’s a philanthropist.”

“Boy, do I wish I could answer that.” She stood, paced a short path alongside the sofa, and tried to force her mind to work, her memory to kick in. She failed and felt every atom of that frustration. “I don’t know why, Ben.”

“If you don’t know, then why are you afraid?”

Good question. Why am I?
She paused directly in front of Ben, stared up into his eyes. “I think he’s the reason I was so afraid to be in Seagrove Village.”

Ben didn’t say anything; clearly he had no idea what to say.

“I don’t remember him, so I can’t be sure, of course.” Karen licked at her lips. “But when I look at him, I have that same terrified feeling I had about being here and going to the police.” She pressed her hands over her abdomen. “He puts so many knots in my stomach I can barely breathe.”

He searched her face. “I won’t pretend to understand. Gregory has a sterling reputation. But I see that you believe what you’re saying, and I’ve developed a deep respect for instincts.”

Grateful he’d given her that much, she squeezed his upper arm. “Thank you.”

“You could be associating something about him that’s totally unconnected. You do realize that.”

No way. She knew it as well as she knew where she stood. “Yes, I do understand it.”

“But you don’t believe you’re doing it.”

“No.” She blinked. “No, I honestly don’t.”

And that certainty might just scare her most of all.

Gregory walked down the lighted sidewalk from Brandt’s front door, heading back to his car. He’d pulled deeper into the driveway to get a look at where this cottage was placed on the property.

It was dark, but through the thicket of trees, he saw a brick path and a light in a window beyond it.

Paul shouldn’t have any trouble hitting her there.

He drew in a deep breath, scanned for security cameras, and spotted none that would record him. The recorder in his pocket had Brandt’s voice. From it, Paul would have his voiceprint and know whether Brandt
had infiltrated or Edward had manufactured a pretense. Would Paul tell Gregory? That he didn’t know, which is why he had taken the matter into his own hands with a backup plan.

In short order, Gregory could put this ordeal behind him, and that time couldn’t come soon enough for his peace of mind.

His cell phone rang. Gregory reached down to the clip on his belt and retrieved the phone. “Hello.” He opened the car door, slid inside, dropping a second envelope onto the concrete driveway, and then pulled the door shut.

It was time to find out himself if Paul’s New Orleans contact—a.k.a. one Richard Massey—had recruited Edward or Benjamin Brandt.

12

T
hanks for walking me back, Ben.” Karen moved toward the cottage door.

“My pleasure.” He gave her a disarming smile. “It’s been rougher on you being here than I’d hoped it would be. I’m sorry about that.”

“Not your fault.” She glanced beyond the light into the dark woods. That Mark Taylor and his security staff were on alert did make her feel safer, though meeting Gregory Chessman still had her trembling inside. Oh, how she wished she knew why.

Ben had talked to her for a solid fifteen minutes, reciting the man’s golden qualities. Oddly enough that hadn’t reassured her but raised her concerns. No mere mortal could be that altruistic.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she said, deliberately lingering and debating on whether to tell him what she most wanted to say. Figuring he couldn’t think any less of her than he already did, she went ahead. “Especially for a normal dinner. That was such a pleasant surprise.”

He gave her a slow blink that had her heart racing. “For me too.” He shifted on his feet. “I didn’t expect … ”

“What?” She glanced up and their gazes locked. A flutter of attraction sparked in her.
Oh no. Not a smart move. Not in his position and certainly not in yours
.

“I didn’t expect it to be so … easy,” he said with a little shrug and looked away. “I thought it would be hard.”

“Because I look like Susan?”

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