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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

BOOK: Just Evil
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And look how that had turned out.

When she heard the door jingle she looked up—and smiled.
Absently she stuck the toy cowboy in the pocket of her jean skirt and walked
over to Gloria, who entered the store with her little Chihuahua, Morty, so
named because Gloria was convinced the dog was her late husband’s reincarnated
soul.

“You must indeed be psychic, Glo. I was just thinking about
you earlier and you show up out of the blue. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was worried. I wanted to see for myself you were okay.
Jake told me about your encounter with Collin.”

Kit leaned over, hugged her aunt, and kissed her cheek. Then
in a stern voice, she went into lecture-mode. “Worried, huh? Enough to call
Jake Boston to the rescue? Did you send him out here on Saturday, too?”

Gloria sat down at one of the tables and immediately put a
bewildered look on her face that made it seem as if she wasn’t sure which fork
to use to eat her salad. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I called him
after the police left my house yesterday. I panicked. Sue me. Aren’t you even
going to offer me a cup of tea?”

Kit walked behind the counter, grabbed a teabag, poured hot
water into a cup, and brought it over to her aunt. She sat down across from
Gloria eyeing her face for any indication she was evading the issue.

Gloria sensed the once-over. “Oh for goodness sake, I merely
asked an old friend to look in on you, where’s the harm in that? It’s
ridiculous that the police think you could have had anything to do with Alana’s
death. Since the man went through a similar situation when his wife was
murdered, I thought he’d know what to do, how better to handle the situation.
Lord, the police hounded that man for the better part of a year. Was it wrong
of me to think that perhaps he could provide some insight we might overlook?”
Gloria took a sip of her tea before setting Morty down on the hardwood floor to
sniff at Pepper, who’d wandered in from the bookstore to look over the
Chihuahua. Despite their difference in size, Pepper and Morty were longtime
buddies and soon Morty had snuggled up at Pepper’s side for a nap. 

“So you didn’t call him to come out here Saturday?”

“He was here Saturday? Whatever for?” She knew, but she had
no intentions of tipping Jake’s hand.

She gave Gloria the short version about Jake renovating the
Crandall House. Her reaction seemed genuine to Kit.

“Why would he buy that huge old house?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. Investment maybe? His boat’s
here, too.”

“Really. He didn’t say a word to me.” That was true. “But
he’s been acting a little weird since he took off for Japan.”

“Weird how?”

“It’s like he finally buckled under the pressure of that
whole year. He couldn’t stand the humiliation. He’s a proud man, Kit. Being a
murder suspect just broke his spirit.”

He’d said he’d needed to get away. She hadn’t realized how
bad things were for him during that time right after Claire died. The man had
always seemed so capable, so invincible. She thought back to last year and
decided she should have done more, should have gotten in touch with him sooner
than she had. Instead she’d kept her distance, thinking he needed some space,
time to grieve for his dead wife.

“What are you thinking?”

“That I should have been there for him sooner when he needed
a friend.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Kit reached out and patted her aunt’s hand. “Look Glo, I
hate to bring this up, but I don’t see any way around it. We have a funeral to
plan. I know Alana bought a plot out at Whispering Oaks, but it looks like the
details fall to you and me.” Then as delicately as she could, she told her
about Alana’s will.

“You think I’m upset because she didn’t leave anything to
me. Well, I’m not. Put that right out of your mind. I don’t need Alana’s money,
nor would I want it. But frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t leave everything to
Jessica.”

“Me too. Would you like the house? I have no use for it. I
can’t even go back inside.”

“Listen sweetie, put the house on the market, get the best
price possible, and keep the money. Think of it as payment for the kind of
childhood you had. Use one of those estate liquidators for the furnishings.
They’ll take care of everything. You might want to think about keeping the baby
grand, though.” Looking into Kit’s eyes, she added wistfully, “Your father
would like that, don’t you think?”

Kit nodded; even though she didn’t have room for the piano
in her tiny house, the sentiment was there. Her father had given it to her for
her eighth birthday. She smiled. “He paid for the piano lessons all those
years. I’m pretty sure it was only to rankle Alana. Speaking of my father…”

Gloria shifted into an emotional void, bracing for the
question. Talking about John Griffin always put her into rage mode.

“Glo, do you think he remarried, had other kids?”

Gloria hadn’t been prepared for that. “Why would you ask
such a thing?”

“Jake pointed out he might have remarried, and had other
kids I don’t know anything about.”

Gloria took her time thinking. “No. No, I don’t know about
that. It’s possible, isn’t it that he remarried? He spent a lot of time
overseas. Why wouldn’t he? He could have had other children I suppose. Why are
you dwelling on this, Kit? I know that the man should have taken you away from
Alana when you were five...actually long before that. But he didn’t; he left
you with her time and again. Don’t dwell on this. Move on. This is weighing on
you and you need to put this behind you—you need to put him behind you, the
sooner the better. Deal with Alana’s death and move on with your life. It isn’t
fair, I know, but...you’ve got to come to terms with the past...with him for
leaving you there especially after…”

“But I can’t stop thinking about him, Glo. It’s as if I’m
going through all of it again in my head, all my childhood memories are coming
back to me. Not just what happened at twelve, but…everything.”

“I don’t doubt that. But it won’t do any good to dwell on
it. You’re thinking about all of this too much. Kit, the man was never around
all that much. He stayed gone for months and months at a time, didn’t he? Think
about that before you spend any more time on these walks down memory lane.”

Surprised at Gloria’s coldness on the subject of her father,
Kit groaned, “I don’t understand how you can be so callous about this. This is
important to me. John Griffin was more like a father to me than Alana Stevens
ever was a mother. At times he was all I had. He at least acted like a father
when he was with me, whereas Alana didn’t even pretend to have maternal
instincts. There were so many times over the years that he was there for me.”

And times he wasn’t, thought Gloria. She took a deep breath,
gentled her voice. “You say he acted more like a father, but yet he left you time
and time again with Alana. If he truly cared for you, truly loved you, how is
it he didn’t get you out of that situation? Perhaps the man was a better actor
than we gave him credit for. You can’t know what went on between them.
Animosity runs deep in contentious divorces. Stop torturing yourself. He never
truly appreciated you, Kit, and from what I remember about the man, you were
his greatest achievement.”

Later, those words came back to Kit as she headed to
Westlake Village. On the drive she tried to convince herself to put Alana and
her father behind her for good. But it had always been a struggle. Now with
Alana gone, it might be possible, although inheriting her business would be a
problem. Surely, a smart guy like Jake could help her find a way to turn
Alana’s business over to someone else. Not only did she know nothing about real
estate, she’d spent years avoiding any type of corporate setting, including the
one Jake had created for himself.

Maybe it was time she did something about that.

Sitting in traffic on the 101, she remembered the driven man
he’d been at twenty-four, and knew even then she hadn’t fit in to that business
side of him.

She’d been around at startup, of course, but then so had
Morty and Gloria. She might have been no more than a teenager, but she’d
watched from the wings with proud fascination at Jake’s transformation from
gifted programmer to software developer to CEO.

She recalled all the times he’d talked and she’d listened.
She hadn’t understood half of what he’d said. She’d been young, that was true,
and as Alana had often reminded her, she hadn’t been particularly bright. But
she’d listened to him, or tried to, as he’d outlined his dreams of taking his
software company global.

She’d been smitten; it was embarrassing to think about it
now, but she’d watched as he lived and breathed software applications,
marketing campaigns, and spreadsheets. If it were a little hero worship in the
fact that he’d taken a program he’d developed from scratch and turned it into a
multi-million dollar company, she could admit that now.

She’d watched from the sidelines, always from the sidelines,
as his world grew more successful each year and finally expanded to include
Claire, the woman he’d married. Claire had fit into his world perfectly. She’d
been sophisticated and classy, an asset to any up-and-coming businessman’s
agenda, the complete opposite of Kit both then and now.

Thinking about the conversation with Gloria earlier, Kit was
reminded that no matter how much he’d been on top of the world before Claire’s
murder, Jake didn’t walk on water.

In one night everything had come crashing down around him.
She supposed she could have been a better friend during that time. But God how
she’d hated the idea of approaching him when he’d been grieving for Claire.

As she exited onto Westlake Boulevard, she wondered if he
was finally over Claire, the love of his life. She hoped so for both of them.
Because that kiss this morning had been one lip-lock worth following up on. The
man knew what to do with that mouth.

She pulled into the parking garage of a bank building,
parked her Jeep on an upper floor, and took an elevator down to ground level.
She walked through the bank lobby and took another elevator to the tenth floor.

When she stepped out into an elegant, tastefully decorated
reception area, it was obvious to her that she’d entered an upscale corporate
world the complete opposite of the Book & Bean. She suddenly lost her nerve
and regretted coming. She hadn’t dressed for a stuffy corporate setting, hadn’t
even considered there might be a dress code involved or how everyone else might
be attired until this moment. Wearing a short jean skirt with a white top and
sandals, she felt self-conscious and considerably underdressed.

She suddenly remembered Jake wore suits to work.

It was at that moment she realized how good she had it
working in her little world, in her little book shop in little backwater San
Madrid where she never had to dress to please anyone but herself.

It wasn’t too late to jump back on the elevator. Just as
that thought slid into her head, an anorexic-looking petite redhead no older
than twenty, who was stationed behind that elegant reception counter, popped
her head from behind her computer and asked, “Can I help you?”

A little intimidated in this world, Kit had to think why
she’d crossed the bridge to the other side in the first place. She fumbled the
words out. “Jake Boston; I’m here to see Jake.”

The girl eyed her up and down as if passing judgment on a
homeless person and wanted to know, “Do you have an appointment?”

Kit shook her head. “If he’s busy…I can come back another
time.”

“Are you selling something?”

“Uh, why no, I’m not.” Kit took the question as a tad on the
rude side. What if she owned a law firm and wanted to purchase billing
software? How did the anorexic young woman know she wasn’t a customer? Of
course, she realized she didn’t look like she owned a law firm that needed
software, but then in her world she wasn’t in the habit of treating customers
in such a rude fashion. Her customers usually came in right off the street. But
then she realized she had wandered in right off the street. Worst of all, she
was dressed like she had.

The thin redhead picked up the phone, telling her, “I’ll let
Ginger know you’re here. She’d be the one to know if Mr. Boston has time on his
busy schedule to see you.”

Great. Yeah, you do that, thought Kit. Is this a power trip
or what? Now she was just suddenly pissed that she’d fooled herself into
thinking the timing might be right after all these years. They had nothing in
common. She thought back to his arrogant demeanor years earlier.

This was the world he’d wanted to conquer, found so
important, so driven to achieve success in, and he’d done just that. That fact
hadn’t changed. They really didn’t have a single thing in common. Now she was
seeing it for herself, the fact hitting her full force between both eyes. No
longer uncomfortable about being here, she was glad she’d made the trip.
Face
the truth, Griffin
,
the two of you have about as much in common as two
opposing political foes.

Just then, a woman in her mid-forties dressed in a light
pink Donna Karan suit, with jet black hair streaked with gray and warm brown
eyes, approached the reception area. “Hi, I’m Ginger Starks, Jake’s secretary. Can
I help you with something?”

At Ginger’s sudden appearance, Kit took two steps toward the
elevator. “Well no, not really. I was here to see Jake. And no, he isn’t
expecting me. I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop in; however, I see
now that was a bad idea.” It wasn’t just the lie; she was babbling, and worse,
she knew it.

Ginger eyed the attractive blonde with interest, clutching
an assortment of file folders to her chest. “Jake’s on a conference call, but
if you’ll take a seat, I’ll wave a note under his nose to let him know you’re
here. May I have your name please?”

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