Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence Read online

  “That you know of,” Ed interjected. “I’m sure you didn’t keep the medications on you all the time, did you?”

  She shook her head, sobering. “No, they were in your father’s bedroom, locked in his drawer.”

  “How many times did you leave the house after you picked up that batch of medications?”

  She searched her memory. “None. I didn’t leave at all after that. Not until after your father died.”

  “Someone either switched them at the pharmacy or switched him here at the house.”

  “Why are you so certain the medication was switched?” Bailey couldn’t understand where he was coming from with all of this. She tried to follow his logic, but jumping to the worst conclusions possible just wasn’t in her nature.

  “One of the first things I did when I came here was to send off his medications. The results were in my inbox just today.”

  What? When did he do that? How did I miss it?

  Where was Ed getting these resources? Exactly who was he? Something still wasn’t adding up.

  Yet her gut told her she could trust him.

  She just hoped her gut wasn’t terribly wrong.

  She looked around. They were essentially alone. She wanted to pour out the whole story. The man who threatened her would never know…would he?

  Bailey suddenly bristled as she sensed someone watching them. She couldn’t shake the feeling, even though every time she looked around, she didn’t notice anyone looking their way.

  All around them were dockworkers and other people milling around, picking up deliveries from the mainland. Bailey waved at the island’s doctor and a couple of people she knew from church.

  She glanced toward one of the piers and saw a man staring at her. He turned away and continued to push a broom on the dock. Was he the source of her uneasiness?

  She stared at him some more, hoping for a clue as to who he was. He was tall, maybe in his thirties or forties. He wore a baseball cap over his eyes and a heavy sweatshirt. But he almost looked like… No, it couldn’t be.

  But what if it was?

  She nudged Ed. “Do you recognize that man?”

  He looked up and shook his head. “No. Should I?”

  “I’m getting a strange vibe from him. Could be nothing. He almost—almost—looks like your father’s cousin.”

  Ed’s intense gaze remained on him. “Let’s keep an eye on him.”

  Just then, the man glanced back over. When he saw both Ed and Bailey looking at him, he dropped his broom and took off in a sprint.

  Ed jetted after him.

  Bailey took a few steps, but knew the chase would be futile. She’d never been a particularly fast runner. But she hated the thought of something happening to Ed, and no one being there.

  She quickened her pace, at least trying to keep the two men in her sight.

  But they were fast. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, both were gone, disappearing in the direction of the town.

  Her hands went to her hips, and she lifted up a prayer.

  Dear Lord, please watch out for Ed. Keep him safe.

  She began pacing as the minutes passed, worst-case scenarios racing through her mind. Scenarios where Ed died or disappeared or was seriously hurt. Scenarios where she never found the information, where people kept getting hurt.

  Finally she saw Ed walking toward her down Main Street. Some of the tension left her shoulders and she rushed to meet him.

  She hoped he had news and sometimes hope was the only thing a girl had to hang on to.

  *

  Ed spotted Bailey standing at the end of the street and recognized the concern on her face. She was worried about him, he realized. Something about the thought warmed him.

  He hurried toward her.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “He got away. He had too much of a head start. I don’t know how he disappeared, but barring knocking on every door and invading people’s privacy, I have no way of finding him.”

  “What do you say we go talk to a couple of those other workers and see what we can find out?” Bailey asked.

  Ed raised his eyebrows, impressed by her deductive reasoning and initiative. “Sounds like a good idea.”

  They headed for the man who seemed to be giving orders on the dock. The smell of fish and the sound of seagulls defined the area.

  He was about to speak when Bailey beat him to it. “Mr. Jeffries, how are you?”

  The man, who initially looked gruff, smiled brightly when he spotted Bailey. “It’s always good to see you, Bailey.”

  Bailey knew the man? That was surprising.

  “Ed, this is Mr. Jeffries. We go to church together,” Bailey explained.

  Ed shook his hand, taking in his features. He was probably in his sixties with the thick wrinkles of someone who worked hard outside in the sun. He had white hair, thinning on top, and wore a faded flannel shirt, jeans and work boots.

  “That man who was sweeping down here. Do you know much about him?” Bailey asked.

  He looked back toward the abandoned broom. “Yeah, that’s Arnold. He’s new. Just comes in a few days a week.”

  “How long has he been here?” Ed asked.

  “A couple of weeks.”

  “Know anything else about him?” Ed asked.

  “Is he in trouble or something?” Mr. Jeffries crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed with curiosity.

  Ed shrugged, trying not to alarm the man. Not yet, at least. “Not trouble, necessarily. We just wanted to ask him some questions.”

  “I’ve got to be honest. I didn’t do a background check on him. I needed a hand, and he just happened to be there. Seemed like a decent worker. He was quiet, didn’t say much.”

  “Why would he run when he saw us?” Bailey asked.

  Mr. Jeffries shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe he’s the nervous type. Maybe he has a record and thought you guys were the police. I always noticed that he managed to make himself busy somewhere else every time the sheriff came around, too.”

  Interesting, Ed thought.

  “When’s he scheduled to work again?” Ed asked.

  “Not until next week.”

  “Is he staying on the island?” Bailey shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun.

  Mr. Jefferies shook his head. “Not that I know of. I’m pretty sure he has a place on the mainland. My impression is that he’s desperate for work.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Jeffries,” Bailey said. She squeezed the older gentleman’s arm.

  “No problem, Bailey. You let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will, Mr. Jeffries. Thank you.”

  Bailey and Ed stepped away, headed back toward Main Street.

  “You know, it seems like everyone around here is looking out for you.”

  “Just one more thing to love about island life, right? People do look out for each other.”

  “I suppose.” He looked in the distance, wondering what it would be like to live in a place where he wasn’t simply a shadow or he wasn’t living a lie, for that matter. It was a luxury he couldn’t afford to think about at the moment. “I’m going to go talk to Mary Lou, the housekeeper. You want to come?”

  Something flickered in Bailey’s gaze. Could it be guilt? Why would Bailey feel guilty, though?

  “I would, but I think I’m going to get back to the house and clean up a bit. I’ve got to earn my keep and all.” She shrugged, a little too casually.

  He nodded. “All right, then. I’ll let you know what she says.”

  He couldn’t help but think that her answer was suspicious. He’d thought that she would jump at the chance to go with him and search for answers. That familiar inkling that she was hiding something returned.

  He’d have to address that later. For now, he wanted to talk to his father’s old housekeeper, the one who’d up and quit about two weeks before he died.

  He walked down the road until he reached a small bungalow. Four tombstones were in the front yard. The island was so s
mall that there was no space for a large cemetery, so many residents buried their loved ones right there on their property. From talking with his dad, Ed knew that Mary Lou’s family went back several generations on the island. Her husband had died two decades ago in a boating accident and she’d never remarried.

  He knocked at the door. A moment later, a woman with a pouf of bleached-blond hair and oversize tortoiseshell glasses answered. As soon as she saw Ed, she tried to shut the door.

  “Wait! I just have a question, Mary Lou.”

  “I’m not going back to that house,” she whispered through the cracked door. “I know who you are. You’re Bill Carter’s son. You look just like him.”

  “I’m Ed.” He extended his hand.

  She stared at his outstretched arm a moment before hesitantly reaching out, half her body still behind the door, and halfheartedly shaking it. “Why are you here?”

  “I understand from Bailey that you quit rather suddenly. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  “Bailey’s a sweet girl. She has a heart of gold for staying around, if you ask me.” Her voice left no room for argument.

  Ed shifted. “She is sweet, but why did you say it like that?”

  Mary Lou pushed her oversize glasses up higher. “Something was going on at the house. I figured I better leave before things got even weirder.”

  “How were things weird? Please. I’m trying to figure everything out.”

  Wrinkles formed around her lips as she squeezed them together in thought. Finally, she pulled the door open a little more, but still didn’t invite him inside. She stared at him with obvious distrust instead.

  “Things kept getting moved.” She crossed her arms, as if expecting him to be skeptical.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, someone was going around the house and touching things. And I’m not talking about Mr. Carter or Bailey. Someone took it upon themselves to go in and out of rooms that no one ever went in. It was like they were playing with my head or something.”

  “So you quit?”

  “Well, because of that and because I kept hearing people walk around at night.”

  “Really?” Was she crazy? She had a bit of an eccentric vibe to her. Or was someone really messing around in the house?

  “No, I’m not crazy.” She scowled, as if she’d read his thoughts. “Someone was moving around at night, and again—it wasn’t Mr. Carter or Bailey.”

  “Mary Lou, I’m not doubting you, but how do you know it wasn’t one of them?”

  “Mr. Carter and Bailey were on the other side of the house. I slept in the west wing. Besides, the footsteps were heavier. Neither Mr. Carter or Bailey weighed that much.”

  Interesting observation, but it added to her credibility. “Did you tell the police?”

  She shook her head. “No, they’d think I was crazy. Besides, Sheriff Davis isn’t equipped to find ghosts.”

  He tried to keep his voice even-keeled. One hint of doubt might make her clam up and never talk to him about this again. “Did you ever consider maybe it was a person? An intruder?”

  “Who would break into a house on Smuggler’s Cove? No one. This is the safest place around.”

  That was what most people would think. He wished it was true, but he didn’t feel confident. Not anymore.

  “Mary Lou, did anything else unusual happen in the days before my father died?”

  “Besides the footsteps at night?” She looked in the distance and pursued her lips. “He seemed a bit preoccupied. He disappeared several times.”

  Ed perked. “What do you mean he disappeared?”

  “It was usually when Bailey wasn’t around—the times when she’d go into town, for example. He liked to sneak off by himself.”

  “Any idea what he was doing or where he was going?”

  Mary Lou shook her head. “No idea. I figured it wasn’t my business and that the man deserved his privacy.”

  *

  More than anything, Bailey had wanted to go talk to Mary Lou with Ed. She wanted answers just as much as he did. But she also needed some time alone at the house so she could look for the information her assailant had “requested.”

  Bailey waited until she was inside the house before she let out the breath she’d been holding. Had Ed suspected anything? Did he have a clue what she was hiding? She prayed he didn’t.

  Reluctantly, she turned and stared at the living room. Where did she even begin? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it before. She’d lain in bed sleepless, wondering where to start.

  The problem was searching this whole place would take days. She wasn’t even sure there was any information here. But she had to look; she had to do whatever she could.

  Mr. Carter had spent most of his time in a smaller living room, set up with a comfy recliner, fireplace and TV, or he’d been in his library or bedroom. Were those places too obvious?

  She didn’t know but that was where she needed to start.

  She glanced out the window and made sure that Ed was nowhere to be seen. He was a bright, perceptive man. Certainly he’d put everything together soon. He’d known that she was up to something—looking for something. That was why she needed to work quickly.

  She pushed away her fears about being in this house alone and charged down the hallway. She pushed the door open to the den, as Mr. Carter had called it. The room had dark wood paneling and manly brown leather furniture. A single window allowed some light to flood inside.

  Her heart thudded as memories filled her mind. She hadn’t been in here since Mr. Carter had passed, and right now grief clutched her heart. The finality of death often gave her pause. While she believed in heaven, it was still hard to comprehend never seeing someone on this earth again.

  She shook the thoughts off and rushed toward the recliner. She checked all the crevices there. Nothing.

  Next, she checked the bookshelves, under the rug, in the table drawers and everywhere else she could think of.

  Nothing.

  Of course, she had no idea what she was looking for. She only hoped she’d know it when she saw it.

  She glanced one more time at the room but saw nowhere else she could possibly look. Instead, she hurried toward the library. Once there, she quickly glanced out the window, just to make sure that Ed hadn’t decided to come back early. She didn’t see anyone.

  The intruder had already done a good job in this room, tearing everything apart. She had a hard time thinking that there was anything in here, but she had to try. She had to know for sure.

  She went through the desk, the bookshelves, the filing cabinets. Almost everything she found was of a business nature. Insurance and car titles and HVAC repair receipts and letters from old friends. Nothing that screamed “the information.”

  What was she going to do?

  She wasn’t going to give up. That was what.

  She put everything back where she’d found it and then hurried to Mr. Carter’s old bedroom. If the information wasn’t here, she didn’t have any other good ideas on where it could be.

  She had no more time to be nostalgic, so instead, she quickly rifled through the drawers, looked between the mattresses, under the rug even. Whatever it was, either she couldn’t identify it or it wasn’t here.

  She paused and put her hands on her hips. What next?

  She supposed she would have to search the rest of the house.

  But before she could move, she felt a shadow behind her and braced herself for a struggle.

  THIRTEEN

  Ed stared at Bailey a moment. What was she doing in his father’s room?

  She twirled around, her fists raised and ready to fight.

  Ed caught her before she threw her first punch. He easily overpowered her as he held her hand at bay.

  “What are you doing, Bailey?” he demanded.

  Her eyes widened before she finally relaxed and lowered her arm. “Ed? What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”

  He
let her go, watching carefully to make sure she didn’t try to throw any more punches. “I wasn’t sneaking up on anyone. It’s not my fault if the carpet padded my steps. Besides, I’m not the one who should be answering questions. I want to know what you’re doing in my father’s room.”

  He watched her face for a sign of deception. She stared at him a moment, then lines appeared on her forehead and at the corners of her eyes. Her lips pulled downward and her shoulders tensed again.

  She was hiding something.

  “I was…I was just having a moment. I straightened up the office some, and I was just checking on his room. It’s what I do. It’s what I’ve done since I was hired. Do you have a problem with that?”

  As much as he wanted to demand the truth from her, Ed knew there were better ways to go about things. Instead, he shook his head. “You’ve been here more than I have. I appreciate the help.”

  That seemed to relax her. Some of the fine lines on her face disappeared. “Good. I was hoping you’d feel that way. Old habits are hard to break, you know.”

  He nodded. Still not buying it. “Mary Lou said she heard footsteps at night.”

  Bailey froze again. “What?”

  Ed nodded and recounted the conversation.

  When he was done, Bailey pinched the skin between her eyes. “I never heard anything.”

  “But you slept in the other wing of the house.”

  “It just seems like there would be some kind of evidence if someone was coming and going.”

  Not if they were professionals, Ed thought. This only seemed to confirm that theory. “I just wanted you to know.”

  “I appreciate it.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m going to finish straightening the library and then turn in for the night.”

  Ed nodded. “Good idea. I have a few phone calls to make anyway. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  *

  By the time Bailey finished in the library and reached her room, she felt both exhausted and on edge. That had been close. Too close.

  And even though Ed seemed to believe her story, she didn’t feel all that confident.