Not What She Seems (26 page)

******

Rose checked the timer on the oven. Two minutes left and the pumpkin pie would be done. She pulled the recipe box down from the cupboard and thumbed through to the back, pulling out the one marked ‘Candy Cane Cookies’. The grandkids would be coming in just a few days. There was still so much to be done. But it was nice to have the house smelling like the holidays again.

The knock at the kitchen door didn’t startle her; she was waiting for it. She went to let Steven in.

“Come on in, dear. Let me take your coat.” Rose fussed for a minute or two as she got Steven situated in the kitchen with a mug of hot cider. “I’ll go tell Frank you’ve arrived. He’s probably fallen asleep in his chair.”

Steven held up a hand. “No, don’t wake him on my account. I’ll still be here when he’s done napping.”

Rose smiled. That was just like him, always considerate of others. She hated to see him hurt. “Tell me, what happened between you and Emily?”

He rubbed his temples.
“Nothing really.
The more time I spent with her, the more I fell in love with her. But every time I would come near, she would pull back. I don’t know if it was because of the abuse in her past, or if it was just me, but I could feel this wall go up every time I got close to her.” He picked up his cup, swirling the hot liquid, his eyes following the steam as it rose into the air.

A dull ache formed in her chest. She waited for him to continue.

“Last night I told her how I felt.” He took a sip and set his cup down. “She told me she doesn’t feel the same.”

“I’m so sorry, Steven.” She reached across the table, and patted his hand. Any words that came to her mind felt weak and meaningless, so she stayed silent. After a while, he began to talk about Emily’s past, and what they had been through since they left. He explained everything to her.

 “Sounds like you think it was Richard who killed William, not Samantha.” Rose leaned forward.

Steven shrugged. “Yes, I suppose I do think it was Richard. He’s the one with the violent temper, and he’s got this obsession with Emily, but the police have enough evidence against Samantha to arrest her. However, they also arrested Emily.” He rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. “Shows how much they know
. ”

Rose glanced at the clock. “Well, I’d better go wake up Frank. He’s been sleeping far too long in that chair. He’s going to get a kink in his neck.”

She bustled over to the sink, depositing the empty mugs in the bottom. Then leaving Steven at the table, she went to go give Frank a piece of her mind for not coming out to say hello to their guest.

All thoughts of annoyance left when she saw him. He sat in his chair as if sleeping, but his pale face told her otherwise. She ran to him and touched his hand. It was cold. Her husband was dead.

Chapter Thirty Three

Wisps of hair hung in Samantha’s face as she stared at the table. “I did not kill William.”

Detective Reed tapped his fingers on the wooden surface, as if patiently waiting for her to admit her guilt. “What did you do at his house that day?”

Her rear end felt like it was going to fall asleep if she didn’t stand up from the hard chair. She shifted her weight. “I told you. I rang the doorbell several times, and when no one answered, I got angry. His truck was in the driveway for heaven’s sake. I knew he was there, so I opened the door. I saw him lying on the floor. I freaked out and ran.”

The detective sighed and sat back in his chair. “We found your footprint in William’s blood. How do you explain that?”

His words sent shivers of fear through her.

Why am I lying? They already have enough evidence to put me in jail. I should just admit the truth.

She couldn’t bring herself to speak.

He must have sensed that he hit a nerve, so he continued. “You said you didn’t enter the house. How could you have made that bloody footprint if you hadn’t entered the house?”

Words formed in her head. She didn’t want them to, but they came spilling out like refuse from a torn garbage bag. “I don’t know. There was a dead person on the floor. I lost it. Maybe I did go in a little. There was blood all over the place. I must have stepped in some of it by accident. I was scared. What if the killer was still in the house? I ran out as fast as I could. I wasn’t paying attention to what I stepped in.” Her face grew warm as she spoke.

Detective Reed peered at her over his glasses. His stare seemed to penetrate through her.

He knows I’m lying.
She wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead.

“How did William’s blood get on the filing cabinet? Were you looking for something?”

“What? No! What do you think, I saw William dead on the floor, then thought I would go peeking at his stuff? You people are crazy.” Samantha stood up and turned away to emphasize her disgust. But her true repulsion was for herself.

The day William
died,
she
had
gone in the house. When she saw him lying there, she ran to his side. Blood was everywhere, and he was barely breathing. When she realized he was dying, instead of feeling sad, she felt relief. But then she realized that the paperwork William had been blackmailing her with would be found. She stepped over him, and went into the study. The file was easy to find, and she slipped out before anyone saw her.

Detective Reed stood and leaned onto the table. “I don’t think you saw William dead on the floor. I think you killed William, then went rummaging through his files looking to destroy the evidence he had linking you to the embezzlement.”

Tears threatened to break through. “I didn’t kill William.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth. She hadn’t killed him, but she
had
left him there to die.

******

Steven followed the real estate agent into the large front yard of the third house they would look at that morning. A decorative wooden fence ran round the property, and snow drifted up the west sides of each plank. Bits of shrubbery peeked out from the mounds of white in front of the large wraparound porch.

He stuck his gloved hands in his coat pockets and looked around. “I love the woodwork on the door, and around the porch.”

The agent
smiled,
her cheeks a bit pink from the cold. “The door is original to the home, built in 1890. I love the fish-scale shingles on the siding. It completes the wonderful Victorian look.” She pointed up at the house as she spoke, her shoulder-length hair blowing in the breeze.

“The yard looks well maintained. I like the arch above the walkway when you enter,” Steven said.

“The sellers have taken very good care of the property.” She took one more look around before heading up the steps. “Wait until you see the inside; the original woodwork is gorgeous.”

Steven stalked through the doorway, and knew immediately he would be making a bid on the house. The entry way opened up to the living room through beautiful French doors. A large circular staircase wound its way up to the second floor, turning into a balcony that overlooked the spacious front room. The agent spoke as they toured the house, pointing out the features that Steven already felt like he knew.

“I’d like to make an offer. I’ll pay full asking price if the sellers will let me move in before we close.”

“I’ll get the paperwork.”

******

Emily hung up the phone, her pulse racing.

“What is it?” Vincent came around the corner, buttoning his shirt, his tie hanging loose off his shoulders.

“They’ve dropped the charges against me. I’m free to leave.” Warmth rushed to her cheeks, and she sat down on the arm of the chair, pressing her hand to her forehead. Her first thought was to tell Steven. He would be so happy, but the empty hole in her chest swallowed her joy, reminding her that he had left. He was gone because of her.

“That’s a relief. Not that I didn’t think they would, of course.” Vincent was by her side in seconds, pulling her into a quick embrace. “I’m so happy for you.”

The brisk aroma of his cologne brought back instant memories of times spent with William and Vincent before she was married. She blinked them away.

Vincent fiddled with his tie while Emily came to her senses. “They’ve released William’s estate to me.”

Vincent’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The money they were holding—William’s bank account. They’ve released it to me.” The hole inside of her grew. That was the money William blackmailed from his father.

“Oh, that. Well I’m glad. Now you’ll have enough to start over with.” Vincent’s smile seemed
forced
.

“I don’t want it,” she said, almost without thinking.

“What?” He looked at her like she had grown a third eye.

“I mean, I need it, but I can’t take it. That money belongs to Theodore. He should take it back.”

Vincent furrowed his brow. “Emily, I don’t think Theodore would take it back. Not from you, not like this. It was one thing, when you were missing. All he had to do was file the
paperwork,
and he would have gotten it eventually. Priscilla wouldn’t have thought anything about it. But now that you’re back, he can’t take the money from you. She’ll find out about it; he can’t hide that much money.”

Emily exhaled. Vincent was right. Theodore wouldn’t take the money back. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth.

Vincent’s face softened. “Look, I know William did some pretty lousy things, and he left them for you to deal with. But don’t think about the money that way. Theodore gave him that money. William was his son. No matter what happened between them, he loved him. He would want his son’s child to be taken care of. He’s not an uncaring man, Emily.”

She stared at Connor, still in his pajamas, sitting on the floor playing with his dinosaur. Blinking, she held back the emotions threatening to run rampant. “You’re right.”

“Now, I’m only going to work a half day today, so I’ll be back after lunch.”

The telephone rang, startling Emily.

Vincent picked it up. “Hello?” He listened for a few moments,
then
he flashed a look at her that she couldn’t interpret.

“Yes,” he said into the phone.

Emily raised her eyebrows, watching him closely.

Vincent frowned and he said, “I’m so sorry. Thank you for calling.
Uh huh.
Bye.”

“What was that all about?” she asked.

Vincent’s hand brushed his moustache. “That was a friend of yours, from
Huntington
.” His face told her it wasn’t good news.

“What? Who was it?”

“That was Rose. Her husband passed away unexpectedly yesterday.”

Shock rang through her. “Frank? Good heavens, that’s awful.”

He took a step back. “The funeral is going to be on Wednesday. She wanted you to know, even if you couldn’t make it.”

Her head began to spin. “Of course I can’t…” Her words trailed off as she thought about it. She was free to leave now. She even had money.

Vincent must have been thinking the same thing. “Why can’t you?”

She stood and paced the room. “I don’t want to take Connor to a funeral. I think it’s a little too grown up for him. Plus, he might be disruptive. And Richard…”

“Richard is on the run. They found his car outside of town, ditched where he stole a better one. I’d be surprised if the police don’t have him in custody by Wednesday, the way he’s being so reckless.” He worked his jaw for a moment, as if he were thinking of what to say next. “And I can watch Connor for a day or two if you want to fly down there for the funeral. I have plenty of vacation time left. We’ll play with the trains and rent movies. He won’t even notice you’re gone.”

As if on cue, Connor looked up at them, blinked a few times, and then went back to playing on the floor.

Butterflies stirred in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t know…”

Vincent seemed intent on talking her into it now. “Come on, you obviously were close with this Rose woman. How are you going to feel years from now, knowing you could have been there for her but didn’t go?”

She stopped pacing and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “I suppose I could fly down Wednesday morning, and come back after the funeral.”

He frowned. “Yes, and you could also spend a day or two there with Rose. She might need her friends with her right now.”

“Of course.”
She put her hand to her forehead. “You’re right. I should be there for Rose.”

“And don’t worry about a thing. Connor and I will have a great time.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Vincent placed his hands on her shoulders. “Relax. Connor loves it here. We’ll be fine. It will only be for a few days.”

Emily slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Chapter Thirty Four