Broken Trust (12 page)

The door behind her opened
,
and the entire board suddenly became more alert as if threatened by attack.

Sylvia spun around.

A hotel employee, in her company blazer and polyester slacks stood just inside the doors, a strained expression lining her young face. Behind her, two uniformed police officers walked into the room. Their waists weighted down with guns, handcuffs
,
and who knew what sort of hardware, their clothes crisp, black shoes sturdy. One officer stood several inches taller than his partner. The shorter, darker man stood akimbo. They both surveyed the room with serious expressions.

Etta stood. “May I help you?”

The taller of the two addressed Etta while the other focused on Sylvia. “We’re here to see Sylvia LaFever.”

What?

The room fell silent and all eyes rested on Sylvia.

The cops zeroed in on her. “You’re Ms. LaFever?”

Sylvia forced a smile. “Yes. What can I do for you?”

“We’d like you to come down to the station for questioning in the death of Darla Barrows
.
”

Cool, collected, Sylvia chuckled. They didn’t know anything. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

The taller one with blond
e
hair spoke again. “I’d advise you to get a lawyer before saying anything else.”

She allowed her indignation to surface and stepped close enough to scrutinize their name tags. She addressed
A. Langston,
the tall one. “What’s this all about?”

“We understand you own a Smith and Wesson 638 Airweight Revolver,” Langston said.

Everyone stared at her.

Ice picks bit into Sylvia’s skin, yet her voice remained calm. “It’s a popular model.”

The shorter officer,
B. Kirby
, smirked. “It happens to be the caliber that killed Darla Barrows.”

“Not a hundred yards from your office,” Langston said.

Sylvia sounded unconcerned. “I haven’t even seen my gun in ages. It’s probably on a shelf in my bedroom closet.”

Kirby’s smirk deepened. “Actually, it’s in evidence at the station
.
” Pause. “Seized from your office.” Pause. “Showing a shot was fired recently. We’re having it tested for rifling right now.”

Her gun! “How dare you go to my office! That’s breaking and entering. What gives you the right?”

“A search warrant,” Kirby said.

“Issued on strong suspicion from a tip,” Langston said.

“Whoever gave you that tip lied.”

Kirby held his palms up. “And yet we found the gun just where they suggested it would be.”

Every eye in the overheated conference room focused on Sylvia. She must show them her steel. “It was planted. It’s not my gun.”

Kirby raised his eyebrows. “It’s covered with your fingerprints.”

Langston studied her. “We understand you have a trip planned to South America. We’d like to have you cancel that and stick around.”

What were they talking about? Her silk blouse acted like a greenhouse to direct scorching heat on her skin. “I have no trip planned.”

They exchanged smirks and Kirby said, “You didn’t book a flight on your credit card this morning?”

“I suppose the same person who planted the gun and put your
fingerprints all over it charged the ticket to your credit card.”
Langston laughed.

Even her scalp felt on fire. “You have no proof.”

Langston nodded agreement. “Not until the test fire results come back, anyway.”

Kirby raised his arm to indicate the people watching. “Wouldn’t you like to come down to the station to discuss this?”

sixteen

The thrill of victory
and the agony of defeat in less than forty-eight hours. Okay, maybe she hadn’t been so thrilled with Loving Earth Trust on the first day, but the torture of finding a new job felt crushing. Maybe getting free of the cornucopia of dysfunction at the Trust might be a good thing. Oh well, as Charlie would say, she was looking for a job when this one came along.

Nora trudged down the stairs of the Hotel Boulderado kicking her broomstick skirt in front of her. She strode across the Victorian lobby toward the outside doors. Laughter erupted from Q’s, the bar on the ground floor. Maybe an unhappy
,
pre
–
happy hour cocktail would ease the sting. Or maybe not.

Nora peeked in the door of Q’s and wasn’t surprised to see Thomas, Bill
,
and Fay. No doubt they saw Sylvia escorted out by the police.

Sylvia might be the only person who
was having
a worse day than Nora. Being accused of murder trumped getting fired. No matter how awful Sylvia seemed,
Nora didn’t believe she
could really be a murderer. No one liked Sylvia
,
but did anyone hate her enough to set her up?

Nora stepped into the brilliant sunshine. The morning’s chill
had
turned
in
to a perfect fall afternoon. She’d need to walk
several
blocks to meet Abigail at the coffee shop
off
the Pearl Street
M
all. All
art-covered walls
with a menu featuring
sustainable coffee
, it
was on the same block as
one of Nora’s favorite Boulder locations, the
Beat
Book
Shop
. Maybe the sunshine, the beautiful
and
rugged surface of the Flatirons
,
and the dazzling air would work their magic and Nora’s mood would bounce back.

Nora fell in behind two young mothers pushing strollers and herding a toddler. She wasn’t in a big hurry. Yes, she needed a job. Yes, an investment firm might be a great job. No, she didn’t covet corporate games and daily dress-up.

Her boots found their way onto Pearl Street, now bustling with Boulder’s eclectic population mix. The pizzeria’s aromas faded into the burger joint and then Thai as Nora made her way with heavy steps toward the coffee shop. She stopped to gaze at rock climbing gear in a women’s-specific sporting goods store window. Next year, she vowed, she’d overcome her fear of the mountains and start rock climbing again.

It was possible. She could do it. She could make her life new and exciting. She would. Yes.

In fact, tomorrow she’d take Abbey back up to M
ount
Evans and try again. The kachina could go take a hike—not the hike she planned, but one somewhere in Arizona.

Nora noticed her watch. What kind of supernatural powers did Abigail possess? She’d scheduled the meeting with Adam for three o’clock. She
hadn’t
know
n
when Nora would present to the board, let alone plan for the hoopla that ensued
, and s
he certainly didn’t predict Sylvia being led away by two cops. Yet, if Nora hurried, she’d make it to the coffee shop just in time.

“Nora.” Her name spoken in a hushed but commanding voice paralyzed her. She knew who owned that voice. Waves of warring emotions crashed inside her. Happy, apprehensive, fearful, excited—one rolled into the next in a powerful tsunami.

Cole. Ah, damn. Cole.

She froze and lowered her head, closing her eyes.

Cole’s hiking boots made no sound on the concrete as he walked around to stand before her. How could she isolate the feel of him amid the group of college kids, shoppers
,
and the
few
homeless hanging out on the mall?

Nora struggled to appear unrattled. She might have turned tail and run but her limbs refused to move. So she forced open her eyes and straightened her neck.

He hadn’t changed in the year since she’d last seen him in Flagstaff. He still had the soft, sandy hair falling across his forehead, the deep blue eyes, the long legs
and
lanky frame. He wore a flannel shirt with rolled sleeves, jeans, and hiking boots. But instead of the warm smile she remembered, he looked nervous.

“Hi, Nora.”

She forced words. “What do you want?” It sounded mean. Too late to take it back.

He studied the ground in front of them then caught her eye. “I was hoping
…
I thought maybe
…
Oh hell. How are you?”

Finally the shell hardened around her heart. She stepped around him. “Best day of my life. See y
a
.”

His hand shot out as if to grab her but
he
thought better of it. He let it drop. “Wait. Please.”

She stopped. Couldn’t help it.

He strode around and faced her again. “I know this is a shock and not exactly the way I wanted to make contact again. But
…
”

“But what?” She didn’t want to hear him speak
…
She wanted to hear everything he had to say
…
She wanted to run away
…
She wanted to step into his arms.

What had he been doing for the last year? Did he think about her? Did he care about her
now
as much as he did in Flagstaff
? Should she have cut him out of her life before they even had a chance to know each other?

Pink tinged Cole’s ears. That happened when he was embarrassed. G
aa
! Nora didn’t want to know these details about him. She spun away and bumped into a white-haired man wheeling a cart full of silly hats.

Cole steadied her. “Abigail called.”

She should have known. “Holy mother of dog. What did she tell you?”

A high school
–
aged boy and girl approached with clipboards. One said, “We’re with Green
p
eace and wondered if you’d sign this petition.”

Nora snatched the clipboard and scribbled her name. She must seem like a lunatic because as soon as she handed it back to them, they scurried away.

“Are you okay?” Cole asked.

Okay? For a year she’d struggled to get solid footing. Cole had a way of slicing her heart open and she couldn’t risk that exposure now. “I’m fine.”

He squinted at her. “Abigail didn’t say much but she said you needed help.”

Cole liked to show up when she needed saving
;
if she had any idea of being whole and sound again, she needed to work out her own life. “I don’t know why she’d say that. I have an appointment so I’ve got to go.”

He smiled tentatively. “Maybe we can get together later? I’m in town and I’d love to catch up.”

Catch up on a whole lifetime of not knowing each other, punctuated by a few weeks together in mortal danger
?
“I’m not interested.” She started to walk away again.

He fell in beside her
, a
mom-and-dad-visiting-their-college-daughter group separated Nora and Cole. After they passed he closed the gap between them. “Benny called
too.
”

Her jaw tightened. “Are you and Benny planning to kidnap me again?”

Cole ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve been through this before. It kept you alive, didn’t it?”

“I don’t know what Benny is doing in Boulder. He’s got ideas about the Fourth World ending, or maybe wants to ease the transition into the Fifth. Whatever. Why don’t you and Benny have a night on the town and leave me alone? In fact, invite Abigail.” She sounded angry. But she wasn’t angry. Cole scared her in a completely different way than the kachina did.

“Benny’s already on his way back to the mesas. You know he hates leaving the rez.”

Nora
stomped down the mall, weaving in and out of meandering shoppers and gawkers. A breeze rustled the dying leaves on the trees and it sounded like they whispered, telling her
to
run.

His hand closed on her arm. “Can’t we just go someplace and talk?”

“I have legitimate reasons for not going out with you.” Because she found him attractive and had from the beginning? Because she craved his strength even as she fought against it? Or because she felt too fragile to allow herself to be vulnerable? “The first of which is that you remind me of a terrible time in my life I’d like to forget. Second, I don’t trust you. And third
—
maybe most important
—
my
mother
thinks you’re a hot fudge sundae with a cherry on top.”

“Maybe you should listen to Abigail. She was right about your first husband.”

Silence grew between them. “Oh, you must mean the dead one.” She glared at him, daring him to make light of the situation.

He bent his head again. “I’m sorry. I’m really nervous and I’m not saying anything right. Will you have dinner with me? Or drinks? Or even coffee?”

She shook her head.

His face almost glowed red. “You know I was raised on a ranch in Wyoming?”

She nodded. “So?”

“So spilling my feelings doesn’t come naturally to me. It’s been bred out of us macho rancher types.”

“You wear hiking boots and eat tofu. You’re no rancher.”

“It’s hard to overcome your raising.”

Arguing with Cole on the Pearl Street Mall while leaves sifted to the ground in the brilliant afternoon sunshine felt almost natural. Time to stop it. “I’ve had a terrible day so far. You aren’t making it any better.”

“I’m sorry. The truth is, Abigail and Benny aren’t the reason I’m here.”

His tone was way too serious. “I’ve got to go.” She peeled off from him and skirted around a raised flower bed, rushing down the mall.

The book store sat
a few doors beyond the
coffee shop. Several café tables sat in front filled with normal folks enjoying a normal break. Abigail must be inside. Nora stopped several feet from the shop to pull herself together. Beyond the windows Abigail sat across from a dapper young man with thinning hair. She had that absorbed expression she usually wore when she wanted to impress someone. Dear Abigail was doing all she could to help Nora.

Here I go, girding my loins or whatever it is women warriors do. I’ll make a hella investment banker. Abigail will be so proud.

Nora stepped toward the shop and noticed
a
pile of garbage in the niche between the coffee shop and the next
-
door
carpet boutique
. Wait. Not garbage.

Petal curled into the crevice, not more than a pale face amid a jumble of fabric and dreds.

Nora hurried over and held her hand out to pull Petal up. “What are you doing here?”

Petal didn’t meet her eyes. “Waiting for Abigail.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

Petal focused on the ground. “No. Everyone at the Trust was at the board meeting and I got scared and didn’t want to be alone. I went to see Abigail and she said she was meeting you here.”

“Nora!” Her shouted name startled her. Daniel Cubrero jogged down the
street
, dodging people.

She patted Petal’s arm. “Wait here.” She stepped toward Daniel.

“I’m glad I
caught up to
you,” he said, catching his breath from the short run. His white shirt must be tailored to cling to his muscular chest and arms in just the right way without looking too tight. His short dark curls absorbed the sunshine and his brown face glistened slightly from exertion.

Over Daniel’s shoulder, Nora spotted Cole. He watched the scene as he made slow progress behind a family of shoppers.

It seemed extreme that a board member would make such an effort into wishing a fired staffer well, but maybe Ecuadorans were ultra-polite. Besides, whatever Daniel Cubrero had to say, Nora would listen, just to watch his gorgeous face and hear that liquid accent.
It would be a pleasant break in the day.

Nora pulled out the professional persona, the one who graduated top of her class in business school and was offered enviable positions with New York’s best financial institutions. She didn’t need
Loving Earth’
s measly
F
inance
D
irector position.

Well, maybe she did, but she wouldn’t let Daniel Cubrero know that.

“It was good meeting you today,” she said.

His Latin accent sounded like melted chocolate. “The board is impressed with you, Nora Abbott.” His brown eyes warmed her as she fought to be professionally cool.

“I’m not sure the board liked what I had to say. I know several project directors at the Trust won’t be happy.”

“The board did not have much faith in the previous
F
inance
D
irector. We suspected the picture wasn’t so rosy as Darla painted. We
’d
even
discussed hiring an auditor.”

Interesting
, b
ut not her problem. “I hope you can find someone to help figure it all out.”

He gave her a puzzled expression. “You think we should hire an auditor to help you?”