Blind Trust (4 page)

She peeked around the doorway and startled at the sight of a six-foot
GQ
model taking a seat beside her plain, plump research assistant.

Tom lowered his gun. “Do you know these people?”

“I . . .” She swallowed, pressed a hand to her hammering heart. “I know Patti. She works for me. I'm afraid—”

“This is Jarrett, my boyfriend,” Patti blurted. “I've told you about him.” The young man waved at her.

Kate nodded at him and stepped into the room. “Yes, you have.” She shouldn't be surprised that such a good-looking guy would be interested in Patti. The girl was sweet as pie. Kate drew a deep breath, willing her heart to slow. Of course, she'd have an easier time believing his affection was genuine if Patti hadn't recently inherited a wad of money. “But why are the two of you in my house?”

“I heard about your run-in at the supermarket. I tried calling. I even went to the police station, but they said no arrests were made, so I came here looking for you. Your car was in the driveway, so when you didn't answer the bell, I figured you were around back. You weren't, so I let myself in to leave you a note.” She barely stopped long enough to draw a breath, then plunged on. “Once I got inside, I remembered that you
forgot to leave the test trial results before you left work, and I'd planned to work on the analysis this weekend. So I poked around your desk to see if I could spot them.” She motioned toward Daisy's old rolltop.

Not
to Kate's computer desk in the corner.

The thought of Patti poking through Daisy's files sent an uneasy ripple through Kate's chest.

“That's when this guy”—Patti jerked her thumb toward Tom—“showed up and pointed his gun at us.”

Kate bristled at the thought of how scared Patti must have been. Not that Kate approved of Patti letting herself in, no matter how well-intentioned.

“Do you want to press charges, Miss Adams?” Tom said, his tone brisk.

Miss Adams?
She understood the need to appear to have a professional distance between them, but did he have to sound so abrupt? “No, of course not. I believe her.”

Tom holstered his weapon, then pinned his gaze on Patti yet again. “In the future, I suggest you wait for an invitation before entering a house.”

Patti's cheeks reddened. “Yes sir.”

Jarrett remained quiet throughout the entire exchange. Kate had almost forgotten about him until she noticed that he was staring at Daisy's desk. “Is something the matter?”

“Huh?” Jarrett looked up.

“With the desk?” she said tersely, ignoring the renewed hammering in her chest.

“Oh, no. Just admiring the woodwork. You don't see desks like that any more.”

“Jarrett does carpentry in his spare time,” Patti jumped in. “He's always noticing stuff like that.”

Jarrett slid his arm around Patti's shoulders and gave her an adoring squeeze. Her cheeks bloomed under the attention.

Kate had no idea why else Jarrett would be interested in an old desk, but finding him in her living room uninvited didn't make her want to trust him. She slid a sideways glance at Tom. “I'm afraid I need to cut this visit short. It was nice to meet you, Jarrett. Patti, I'll email you that data this evening.”

“Okay, sure. That'd be fine.” She and Jarrett stumbled over each other rushing for the front door, as if neither could escape fast enough. “See you Monday.”

Okay, now that was weird.
Then again, seeing Tom adjust the gun in his holster . . . maybe not.

He locked the door behind them.

“Was the gun really necessary?”

“Finding two prowlers in your house after”—he wiped a hand across his mouth—“after everything that's happened? Yeah, I'd say it was necessary.”

“Okay.” She exhaled, trying to release the pent-up, freaked-out feeling of finding him pointing a gun at her assistant in her house. “I guess I see your point.”

“Does she always talk like a runaway train? 'Cause she sure sounded guilty to me.”

Kate chuckled. “She talks like one. And thankfully works like one too. She's helped me make up for a lot of lost time with . . . with everything that's been going on.”

Tom nodded, sympathy for her loss radiating from his gaze. “Still . . . didn't you find her compulsion to explain Jarrett's unusual interest in Daisy's desk curious?”

Kate waved off the insinuation and headed back to the kitchen. “That's just Patti. Besides, after the way you held them at gunpoint, I'm sure she felt like she had a lot of explaining to do.”

“You're too trusting.” Tom's breath whispered across her ear.

Turning abruptly, she found herself with her nose to his chin. She retreated a step. “Being trusting isn't so bad.”

“Just surprised me, considering how opposed you are to that pharmaceutical company's move to Port Aster the mayor's been championing. I take it you don't know who Jarrett is?”

She arched a brow and spoke slowly. “He's . . . my research assistant's . . . boy . . . friend.”

“And the mayor's son.”

“What?”

Tom smirked. “Yeah, kind of figured you didn't know. You want me to arrest them now?”

Kate gasped. “Do you think his father put him up to dating my research assistant to spy on me?”

Tom chuckled. “Didn't take you long to lose that trusting nature.”

“Stop it. I'm serious. Do you think he knows I've been quietly trying to change a few board members' minds about agreeing to partner with GPC?”

Tom instantly sobered. “Your research assistant could've mentioned it. The mayor is determined to see GPC's move take place. I wouldn't put anything past him. Can you trust Patti?”

Kate shook her head. “I don't know who I can trust anymore.”

Tom clasped her arms and dipped his head until their eyes met. “You can trust
me
.”

“Can I?”

“Catch me, Uncle Tom. Catch me!”

Tom spun around just in time to see his nephew sail from his tree fort. Tom snatched him from the air, turning to absorb the momentum.

The giggling boy hugged Tom's neck. “I knew you'd catch me!”

The trust gleaming from the boy's eyes made Tom's heart float higher than the helium-filled balloons decorating the yard.

If only Kate shared his nephew's conviction. Maybe he should have told her about the note left on his windshield. Except its implication that she was guilty and he had compromised his integrity by siding with her would've only bolstered her
other
reasons for turning down a second date.

Tom plunked his nephew on the ground and shook off the frustration that had plagued him since leaving Kate's yesterday. This was Timmy and Terry's fourth birthday. No time to wallow. Kate was a suspect in his counterfeit investigation. Why should it matter to him if she trusted him?

Okay, the fact that he'd call her a suspect, when he knew she wasn't, reinforced why she didn't.

The terror in her eyes when she'd walked in on him holding her intruders at gunpoint replayed in his mind, echoed by the note's
You can't protect her forever
. What if next time the threat was real?

He needed her to let him stick close. He
needed
her to trust him.

“Catch me, Uncle Tom!”

He snatched his second nephew from the sky.

“Wow, that was some catch,
Uncle
Tom.”

Tom's breath caught at the sound of Kate's voice. The sun glistening off her wavy red locks spilling over her shoulders and her wispy white dress made her look nothing short of angelic.

“Uncle Tom never lets us fall,” Terry declared solemnly. “You try it.”

Kate met Tom's gaze, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I'll take your word for it.”

Tom set his nephew back on his feet, and the boy immediately tore off after his brother. “What are you doing here?”

Kate jerked back at the unintended edge to his question. “Your sister invited me to the party.”

He should've guessed. Tess and Kate had become fast friends since he'd first introduced them.

“You can thank me later,” Tess chimed in, setting a train-shaped cake on the picnic table. Leave it to his sister to play matchmaker.

Kate's cheeks turned pink. “I'm sorry. I thought you knew.” She took a step backward, clutching a pair of brightly wrapped gifts a little tighter. “I can go.”

“No.” His heart kicked at the vulnerability shimmering in her eyes, knowing he put it there. “I want you to stay. I just . . . You caught me off guard, that's all.”

She chuckled, still sounding apprehensive. “From that catch I just saw, looks like you get a lot of practice.”

“But you notice I didn't let him fall.”

“No.” Her voice grew soft. “You didn't.”

Tom relieved her of her packages. “I wouldn't let you fall either,” he whispered, and her eyes brimmed with a wistfulness that caught at his heart.

His dad chose that moment to burst out the door with a bellowing welcome, but Tom thought he heard a faint “I know” before Kate ducked her head and turned Dad's way.

As Dad introduced Kate to Tess's husband's side of the family, Tom let his nephews tug him into a game of tag. Kate seemed to fit right in, chatting with his sister's relatives as if they were long-lost friends.

“Are you going to answer that?” Timmy asked.

Tom blinked and jerked his attention back to his nephew. “What?”

Timmy pointed to Tom's hip. “Your phone.”

Tom swiveled 180 degrees to gain a measure of privacy and held the phone to his ear. “Detective Parker.”

Dispatch filled him in on the latest piece in their counterfeit puzzle.

“I'm on my way.” He pocketed his phone and pulled Tess aside. “I'm sorry. I've got to go.”

“What about Kate?”

Tom checked the urge to say, “She's
your
guest.” Truth be told, he appreciated his sister's little matchmaking scheme . . . this time. “Tell her I'll be back as soon as I can.” She'd be safer here too, where their retired police officer father could keep an eye on her.

Six minutes later Tom pulled up to the front of Henry's
Hardware Store on Main Street. A yeasty aroma wafted from the bakery across the road. His stomach grumbled over missing lunch. Unfortunately, his stomach would have to wait a little longer. He pushed through the door of the hardware store and was greeted instead by the unappetizing smell of rubber.

Behind the counter, Julie Crantz—Kate's newlywed former roommate—hung up the phone. “That was fast!”

“I didn't expect to find you here. That new husband of yours got you working in the family store instead of the library now?”

“I'm just filling in while they're off at some hardware exhibition. He promised me I'd have no trouble.”

Tom chuckled. “Famous last words. Show me what you found.”

Julie pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the front of the cash register drawer and laid it on the counter. “I have no idea who gave it to me.”

Tom snapped on a pair of latex gloves and held the bill to the light.
Yup, counterfeit.

“How's Kate holding up with all of this counterfeit business?” Julie asked.

“Understandably upset,” he said without glancing up.

“I'm sure she appreciates that you took the call and not some officer she didn't know, someone who wouldn't have been so quick to believe her innocence.”

Yeah, she had seemed happy to see him at the time. Too bad her faith in him hadn't lasted. Or maybe it had. His thoughts skittered to Kate's whispered “I know” and the wistful look that had gripped a place deep inside him and wouldn't let go.

He cleared his throat. “When did you notice this was counterfeit?”

“One of my customers did when I gave it to her as change.”

“I guess everyone's on the lookout for them since yesterday's
incident hit the grapevine.” Tom glanced around the empty store. “Any chance you can tell me who made cash purchases today?”

Julie blew a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “You're kidding, right? Saturday is our busiest day. This is the first time we've had a lull.”

“All regulars?”

“No, there were two or three customers that I didn't recognize, but no one who looked suspicious.”

So much for the new lead. He noticed a camera mounted on the wall behind the counter. “Does that work?”

Julie tracked the direction he pointed. “Yes! I can't believe I didn't think of it.” She beckoned him into a narrow cubby and turned on a monitor. “Here we go.”

The camera had a bird's-eye view that spanned from the front window and door to the cash register and counter. Julie hit Rewind and images of customers skittered backward across the screen. She hit Pause and pointed to the screen. “There. That's the woman who alerted me to the counterfeit.” Julie rewound further. “We probably should upgrade to a digital system. These tapes—”

“Stop there,” Tom ordered. The black-and-white image was grainy, but there was no mistaking Brian Nagy, Verna's son. Tom hit the Play button and watched the man place some plumbing couplers on the counter and then pull out a bill. He couldn't make out the denomination. “Did Brian seem nervous to you?”

Julie squinted at the screen. “Not that I noticed.”

Tom tapped the Rewind button again and watched as the morning's customers sped backward through their buying. At the sight of an unfamiliar businessman, he hit Pause and tapped the screen. “Do you recognize him?”

“Um . . . yeah, he looks familiar. Oh, I remember. I met him in A Cup or Two a while back. I remember because he knew Kate's mom and commented on their resemblance.”

The guy on
the phone.
“Peter?”

“Yeah, that's right.”

Tom squinted at the screen. Could Kate's caller be the counterfeiter? But if he wanted to blackmail her as she supposed, dropping a phony twenty in the hardware store wouldn't incriminate her. Still, Tom didn't believe in coincidences. He forwarded the video a few frames and hit Pause again. He could just make out the form of someone in a plaid shirt and ball cap outside the window behind Peter. The shirt reminded him of the stranger who'd disappeared from the coffee shop yesterday. The guy would have been standing by the barrels where the old-timers played checkers. But his head wasn't tilted down to watch a game. He seemed to be watching Peter inside the store. A lookout? Or a spy?

The vice-like grip on Tom's chest twisted tighter. It was bad enough this Peter guy was likely the person who'd left cryptic messages on Kate's answering machine. What was he supposed to make of some stranger lurking around town spying on Peter?

The tinkle of the store's bell over the door tugged Tom's attention from the screen.

Kate rushed toward them, her expression growing brighter as her eyes lit on the screen in front of them. “Did you get the counterfeiter on video?”

“What are you doing here?” Tom demanded.

Julie greeted Kate with a hug. “I called her as soon as I got off the phone with dispatch.”

He should have known.

“What have you found?” Kate asked.

Tom's thumb hovered over the Fast-Forward button. The last thing he wanted to do was fuel Kate's fear, but he needed to know if she recognized the second guy.

Before he had a chance to decide how much to reveal, Julie blurted, “So far it could be Brian Nagy—I've heard he's a bit of a gambler.”

“Really?” Kate shot him an overeager, sounds-like-our-man look. “Or?”

“Or that Peter guy who knew your mother. You remember him?”

Kate's face went chalky white, her gaze clinging to Tom's. “He was here?”

Julie's attention bobbed from Kate to him. “What's going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” He could worry enough for all of them. Her supervisor had confirmed last night that a Peter Ratcher was one of their GPC liaisons, and that he was back in town. Tom didn't believe in coincidences, and the fact that this Peter was here a day after Kate got that anonymous call was too coincidental.

Apparently Tom failed to disguise his concern, because the curiosity in Julie's eyes turned to alarm. “Kate?”

“I had another cryptic message on my machine,” she admitted softly. “We think it might have been Peter.”

Julie threw her arms around her friend all over again. “I'm so sorry. You should have told me. What can I do?”

“Let us know immediately if he returns.” Tom waited for Julie to release Kate and then motioned to the tape player. “And I'll need a copy of this tape.”

“Just take it. I'll throw in a new one.”

Before hitting Eject, Tom tapped the screen at the guy in
the ball cap standing outside the window. “Do either of you recognize this guy?”

Both women shook their heads. “He looks familiar, probably a farmer I've seen around town,” Kate ventured. “Why?”

“He seemed to be monitoring Peter's movements. I thought he might be able to tell us something.” In light of this potential connection between a GPC employee and the counterfeiting, the presence of the mayor's son in Kate's house yesterday looked even more suspicious. Mayor Shephard King had made no secret of how determined he was to attract GPC to their community.

Tom had to admit that up until now, he'd dismissed Kate's concerns about GPC Pharmaceuticals as the overactive imagination of a daughter who blamed the company for her father's death. Now . . . he wasn't so sure.

Kate edged her cuff off her watch and glanced surreptitiously at the time as Tom's nephews oohed and ahhed over a thousand-piece Lego set. There were only three gifts left and still no sign of Tom. She never should have agreed to come back to the party while he tracked down Julie's customers.

Hearing that Peter had been one of them had unnerved her a little. The guy knew her darkest secret and had somehow found her unlisted number—probably by sweet-talking it out of one of her co-workers. Who wouldn't be worried?

Being accused of counterfeiting had already dredged up too many uncomfortable feelings.

Laughter broke out among Tom's relatives gathered around the twins in a circle of lawn chairs. Kate propped up her smile and tried to focus on the rambunctious pair tearing into an
other gift. She couldn't think of a single good reason why Peter would want to talk to her, but there were plenty of bad ones, starting with blackmail.

If there was one thing Mom had drilled into her, it was to never talk about Dad or mention their former last name. Kate instinctively smoothed the skirt of her dress, ensuring the proper impression she'd been programmed to project. But if Dad hadn't done anything wrong, as Mom had always insisted, why should they hide? Why hadn't they challenged the police department's treatment of her father?