Trouble Restored Page 18

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “The key you found behind the desk drawer. We thought it was a safety deposit key for Uncle Samuel, but when I called the bank, he didn’t have a box, remember?”

  “Sure.” Harley put the wood down and tossed a couple of logs on the fire. He moved to examine the portrait more closely. “It does look like the same key.” He bent to rearrange the wood.

  “It was never a key to Uncle Samuel’s safety deposit box.” Tommie grabbed his arm and stopped him so that he faced her. “Think about it.”

  Harley inhaled. “Because it was the key to a box in Rachel’s name.”

  “Exactly! I’ll bet Samuel was paying the rental on Rachel’s box all of these years.” Tommie was almost hopping up and down. “We have to find out what’s in that box. Now.”

  “Raincheck on the foot massage,” Harley said, excitement in his voice now. “Get your coat, Tommie. We’re going to the bank.”

  “Right now?” Tommie was more than ready to go, but the bank would be closed in only a few minutes.

  Harley checked his watch. “We have fifteen minutes to get there and ten minutes to do our business.”

  “We can make it happen.” Tommie abandoned the library and ran down the hall to the small study where Harley had found the key. Trouble was already there ahead of her, using his paws to pull open the drawer where Harley had placed the key.

  “You are one smart cat,” Tommie told him as she scooped the key up in one hand and the cat in the other. “Let’s make tracks.”

  * * *

  The process of deduction, as elucidated by the inimitable Sherlock Holmes, led me to connect the key hidden in the back of the desk drawer with the key in Rachel’s portrait. Visual stimulation—coupled with keen observation, as Sherlock tells us. Very satisfying, indeed.

  Now, as Harley drives like the proverbial bat out of hell toward Wetumpka’s oldest and most stately bank, I hope I will not be proven wrong. The Loftus Lass easily came to conclude what I did ---the keys are one and the same. But I am the one who led her to that belief. For both our sakes, I hope I’m correct. And for heaven’s sake, we need an end to the negative things happening at the manor.

  Tommie has a life and future with her inn and jewelry making, and Harley, I hope, sees his future here as Lord of the Manor to help Tommie realize her dreams. I do believe that Harley loves the estate as much as Tommie will grow to. He belongs here. With her. If he will only open his eyes and see the truth.

  Tommie is telling Harley that she hopes she isn’t wasting their time with this deposit box idea. Oh, my. I find this sudden indecisiveness—and self-doubt—to be mildly amusing. And to my shame I realize that I feel some of the same emotions. This is not my normal self-confidence, which I delight in putting on display. I think the Loftus Lass makes me feel especially vulnerable. She’s so eager to do the right thing. And she’s so willing to doubt herself. She needs a little more feline attitude, which I realize is up to me to demonstrate. And so I shall.

  Here we are at the bank. In fifteen minutes it will be closing time. I see that Harley and Tommie have no interest in waiting until tomorrow. They’re barreling right into the bank and I’m hot on their heels. When the young woman steps in front of me and tries to block me, I give her a growl and a hiss, as if to say, back off! Yes, I can and will be assertive—to show the humanoids how it’s done.

  Tommie turns to me in astonishment, but I breeze past them all and head toward the vault. It’s a beautiful old bank building, and while I’d love to take time to explore and investigate, it’s almost closing time.

  “Meow!” I call to them.

  “That is one bossy cat,” the bank employee says, and not with admiration.

  “But he is insanely smart,” Tommie assures her.

  Harley is asking to see the safety deposit boxes. When the bank manager starts to protest, Tommie shows him the will, leaving everything from the Loftus Estate to her. Soul heir. Bingo, we’re all headed into the vault. At least one of the many mysteries of Loftus Manor is about to be resolved!

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Harley stepped back from the table where the very annoyed bank employee put the big safety deposit box that matched the key. He’d wanted to remain in the lobby, but Tommie had insisted that he accompany her into the vault. Somehow, Trouble had also managed to slip in. The cat had given the young teller a hard time, and then he’d disappeared. The feline could make himself virtually invisible when he chose.

  The teller left the room and Tommie put her hands on the lid of the box. She looked at Harley and inhaled. “Here goes nothing.”

  When she flipped the lid back, she reached into the box and brought out a sheaf of papers. There was also a small jewelry box and some assorted mementos. As she leafed through the contents, she let out a soft exclamation and held up a square card. “Oh, Harley, look at this. It’s an invitation to a costume ball at Loftus Manor. Look! A sketch of one of the star sapphire buttons had been used as the centerpiece on the invitation. It’s the party Katie and Hank were talking about.”

  Tommie held the papers and motioned Harley over so they could look at them together. He stepped forward, and Trouble jumped to the top of the table.

  “A costume ball. I hope there’s more information about the cloak in there.” He nodded toward the teller who was standing impatiently in the doorway.

  “It’s time for the bank to close,” Tommie said. “Maybe we should take this stuff with us. We can bring it back tomorrow.”

  “Good idea. Let’s do that.”

  “I wish I’d brought an envelope or folder,” Tommie said. “But I can just hold it as we leave.” She closed the box, returned it to the wall, and called the young woman back to lock it. The teller eyed the bundle of papers in Tommie’s hand, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Thanks for letting us in,” Tommie told her. “Sorry we were so late.”

  “It’s just now five,” the young woman said. “No problem at all.”

  When they stepped back into the lobby, Harley gently grabbed Tommie’s shoulder. He pointed to a man striding across the parking lot. “Is that Paul Rider?”

  “Yes,” the young teller said. “He was here but said he forgot something and would come back tomorrow. Thank goodness. He always has a lot of things to do and I’m ready to go home.”

  “And we thank you again,” Tommie said, heading straight for the door with Harley and the cat.

  Once they were outside, she turned to face Harley. “Do you think Paul Rider was spying on us?”

  Harley, who’d thought exactly the same thing, nodded. “He bears watching. Now let’s get home.”

  He handed Tommie into the passenger side of his car and opened the back door for Trouble. “Hop in, Detective Trouble. So far, you’re the best thing we have going for us in figuring out what’s going on at Loftus Manor.” When the cat was on the back seat, he closed the door.

  Daylight was fleeing from the western sky, and Harley’s inclination was to press hard on the gas pedal, but he slowed his speed. The headlights illuminated the road, but it was twisty and sometimes filled with deer during the fall and winter months. Often when he was driving back to the manor he’d see does with their fawns. He and Tommie had accomplished what they needed to do. There was no need to rush.

  Darkness was beginning to settle over the road as the sun dipped into the horizon, and Harley felt a sinister sensation creep over him. His body was on red alert. He slowed even more and checked behind him as he came up on the turn off to the manor. This narrow road carried little traffic, but it was the quickest way home. Normally, he wouldn’t give it a second thought.

  He took the turn and had traveled less than half a mile when he noticed headlights behind him. They were coming up fast. Too fast. He watched for a moment, his alarm growing at the other car’s speed.

  “Tommie, reach in the glove box and hand me that Glock.”

  “What?” Tommie shifted to face him. In t
he glow of the dashboard, her face was filled with worry. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re being followed. Could be nothing, but I don’t want to be caught unprepared.”

  She found the gun and gingerly handed it to him.

  He admired that she didn’t question him. She’d come to trust him, as he’d begun to trust her. “Everything will be fine. Like I said, it’s probably nothing. We’ll just let them pass us.” Still, he wrapped his fingers around the gun, very aware of the trigger. To be prepared, he let his driver’s window down, the whole time he drove and watched his rearview mirror.

  “Meow!” Trouble said from the back seat.

  “We have it covered,” Harley assured the cat, though as the car pulled right up on their bumper, he was less certain. This stretch of road was dangerous in the daytime, when the twists and dips could often hide on-coming traffic. Now, with a large car right on their bumper, the danger was increased. In the best-case scenario, someone was jacking with them. It could be a carload of kids unaware of how very dangerous tail-gating could be.

  Whether it was meant to be annoyance or scare tactics—or worse—he couldn’t say. But he was ready for whatever happened.

  The car swerved suddenly into the passing lane and put on a burst of speed until it was abreast of Harley’s vehicle. The light had almost gone for the day, but the last ray of the sun glinted off the gun’s barrel as it came out of the passenger window of the passing car. It wasn’t a joke, as he’d hoped. This was serious trouble.

  Harley slammed on brakes. He’d been ready and prepared, and he punched the brake, turning the wheel simultaneously, spinning his vehicle but keeping it on the road instead of running down into a ravine. The assault car flew past them as a gunshot exploded from the barrel. Harley’s car skidded and spun, ending up crossways in the road.

  “Get down,” Harley ordered Tommie. She crouched on the floorboard.

  Harley stopped the car, jumped out, and dropped to the ground where he fired three shots after the disappearing car. He thought he heard one hit metal. Before he could do anything else, the car disappeared around a sharp curve in the growing darkness.

  He heard Tommie’s door slam shut and in a moment she was kneeling beside him. He could feel her trembling, and he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but this wasn’t the time.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. There wasn’t a tag on the car, and the windows were too dark to see in. All I can tell you is that it was a black Tahoe. There was a driver and a passenger.”

  “They meant to kill us,” she said, her voice small and breathless.

  “I think they probably wanted to hurt us,” Harley agreed. “I think maybe the intention was to run us off the road and down one of the ravines. Make it look like an accident.”

  “Do you think this is because of Loftus Manor?”

  Harley didn’t want to make her more fearful, but he couldn’t lie. “What other reason could there be? No one here knows you and I can’t imagine why anyone would be after me. I don’t have anything or know anything worth killing for.” He stood up. “Tommie, let’s just get in the car and get out of here.” He looked around, realizing that if the attacker came back, they were not in a great defense position. He only had a limited number of bullets left in the clip. It was too dark to examine the area for any clues. That would wait until daylight when professional law officers arrived and could truly evaluate the scene.

  Tommie didn’t ask more questions. She and Trouble, who’d joined them on the asphalt, hurried back to the car. Harley maneuvered the car around on the narrow road, and they drove back toward town. He had no intention of ending up in an ambush. “There’s a back way to Loftus Manor. Several, in fact. But let’s grab a bite to eat in town. I know you’re going to say you can’t eat, but let’s do this. For safety’s sake.” He handed Tommie his phone. “And this time, we’re calling the law. Aiden can meet us at Tantee’s Restaurant. His number is in the contact list.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Aiden walked into the restaurant and gave Tommie and Harley a nod as he sauntered over and took a seat. He looked longingly at the vodka tonic Tommie sipped—at Harley’s insistence to calm her nerves—but he shook his head when the waitress asked for an order. “I won’t be here long,” he said.

  “Stay and have a bite to eat,” Tommie said, knowing that Aiden was doing them a favor by meeting at the restaurant rather than asking her to meet him at the station.

  “Too much to do,” Aiden said. “I want to check out the area of the road where this took place. I’m still giving the sheriff’s department a hand, and Tammy asked me to keep an eye on you two. She’s worried.”

  “We’ll come with you to the scene,” Harley said, pushing back his chair.

  Aiden held up a hand. “Please, just stay here and have something to eat. I know exactly where it is. If I were going to plan some kind of assault, that’s exactly the patch of road I’d select.”

  “I wish this would stop,” Tommie said, and to her surprise, she heard the tears in her voice. She blinked them back from her eyes. “I don’t want to take anything that belongs to someone else, but I do want what Uncle Samuel wanted me to have.”

  “A reasonable request,” Aiden said. “I’m just wondering if this has anything to do with you inheriting the manor, or what someone perceives is hidden at the manor. I’ve kept the discovery of the skeleton totally under wraps. I threatened the renovation crews, and Hank and Katie promised no one would talk. You two aren’t talking. Let’s just keep that body to ourselves. The coroner took one look and realized it was out of his abilities, so the bones have gone on to Montgomery.”

  “I think it was a woman,” Tommie said. “The bones looked delicate.”

  “We’ll know more soon,” Aiden said, and he patted her hand on the table top. “I do have some news for you two. I had some of my men search around the manor and we found your damaged game cameras. We also reviewed the ones that worked, and there was nothing recorded. The broken ones—we couldn’t recover anything at all. I’m sorry. But I also ran a check on Nina Ahearn’s presiding clergy at the wedding. I wouldn’t worry about that. The woman is a fraud and it’s my belief that the purported marriage is a fraud.”

  “So Nina is not Samuel’s wife?” Harley clarified.

  “Correct. She is nothing to Samuel or to you, Tommie. I don’t know where she got that hare-brained scheme to pretend to be legally wed, but I talked with the police chief and he says if you want to press charges, he’s ready to do it.”

  Tommie felt both men watching her. Even Trouble was waiting for her to respond. “No, don’t prosecute right now. I can do it later, right?”

  Aiden nodded. “Yes, but don’t wait too long.”

  “Nina and the woman pretending to be his daughter, Odell Rains, were put up to this by someone else,” Tommie said. “That’s the person I want to get. If I don’t press charges, I can hold it over Nina’s head maybe. Convince her to talk. Or I guess technically it would be blackmail her into talking.”

  Aiden grinned. “Not a bad strategy for a young heiress. If you decide to forgo the inn, maybe you’d take some training in law enforcement.”

  Tommie rolled her eyes. “Truly, it’s your girlfriend’s cat,” she pointed at Trouble, “who is the prime detective. He’s pretty amazing.”

  “He sure is,” Aiden said. “One day, when we all have time for a drink or a cup of coffee, I’ll tell you all about how Trouble solved the biggest case of my life and also pushed Tammy into my arms.”

  “Sounds like you and Uncle Samuel have a lot in common—storytelling,” Tommie said.

  “Your uncle was a terrific man. Few people know the things he did for the community. There were families he supported for years, helping with college educations for at least twenty young people that I know of. The local humane society has a shelter because of him. He was very generous.”

  Tommie couldn’t help the swelling of pride,
even though she hadn’t known Samuel. “The more I hear, the more I like him. I wish I’d known him before he…died.”

  “By the way,” Aiden said, “I’m looking into the altered death certificate. I’ll have some answers on that too.”

  “Thank you,” Tommie said, and she meant it. “Thank you for handling that. It’s all so technical and…”

  “You’re more than welcome. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Aiden stood. “Now I’ve got a team out on Brindza Road looking into the scene of your attack. We’ll do a cursory investigation tonight and tomorrow we’ll be there as soon as it’s daylight. I’ll be in touch.”

  When he was gone, Tommie heaved a sigh of relief. “What is going on here, Harley? Who would want to hurt us?”

  “We need to look at the papers we took from the bank.”

  Tommie slapped her forehead. “I’d forgotten. In all of this madness, I just forgot I had them.” She reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and brought the bundle of papers out. She divided them into two piles and handed one to Harley. “No time like the present. And I truly am not hungry. This drink hits the spot.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the wisest choice, but…” Harley signaled the waitress for another round of drinks. “Your wish is my command. Let’s get busy looking for clues.”

  The pile Tommie kept had a sleeve of negatives and photos and she brought out the prints, which had faded with age but were still clear. The night of the costume ball was depicted in all its splendor. Banked arrangements of flowers, tables of exquisite food, a champagne tower, the faces of laughing men and women—no one Tommie recognized—indicated that the ball was a smashing success. When she found some photos of Samuel and Rachel together, she could almost feel the love between them. Harley had spoken the truth about their commitment to each other. It was clear to see.

  “Look, she’s wearing the cloak.” Tommie pushed a photo over to Harley. Trouble, too, examined it.