Haunting Rachel (20 page)

There didn’t seem to be much to say after that, and in a few minutes Mercy took her leave. She was preoccupied once again as she walked toward her car, but that abstraction vanished as she watched a strange car pull up beside her own—and the living image of her dead brother get out.

“My God,” she whispered. Until that moment “he looks like Tom” had been a statement she only vaguely
understood, but now Rachel’s confusion became all too clear.

He saw her, saw her shock, and came toward her slowly. His expression was as enigmatic as Nick’s had ever been, and that veiled look sat oddly, she thought, on her brother’s open face. The disparity freed her from the paralysis of astonishment.

“My God,” she repeated.

He stopped an arm’s length away and slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You’re Mercy Sheridan,” he said. “Rachel described you.”

Tom’s voice. Yet not quite.
“And she described you. But I didn’t … quite believe her.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it must be a shock.”

“You could say that. You could certainly say that.” Mercy shook her head, her eyes fixed on his face. “You really could almost be his twin.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“No wonder Rachel is …” She didn’t finish that sentence, and if there was any reaction from Adam, it was so subtle, she missed it. Mercy drew a breath. “Well. I would say it’s nice to meet you, but you’ll have to let me get used to the idea.”

“I understand.”

She wondered if he did. “Rachel’s expecting you. And I have to get to work. So—I guess I’ll see you again.”

“I hope so,” he said, the words conventional and his tone light. He stepped back onto the walkway and watched her until she reached her car and got in. Then he turned and headed toward the house.

Mercy had a lot on her mind these days, but the shock of Adam’s appearance stayed with her all the way to the bank. And she wasn’t sure which bothered her more. That Adam looked so much like her dead brother, or that his
familiar face held a secretiveness Tom’s had never displayed.

“Here’s something.” Rachel was at her father’s desk, going through the contents of the bottom drawer while Adam sat on the sofa with the contents of the other remaining desk drawer spread out on the coffee table before him. “Another scrap of paper with a name and phone number, and the notation
call about JW.
Those were the initials beside that largest loan.” She kept her tone casual, just as she had since he had arrived.

“Is it a Richmond number?” Adam asked.

“There’s no area code, so it must be.”

“What’s the name?”

“John Elliot. Doesn’t ring a bell with me.”

Adam came to the desk and looked at the paper for a moment, then reached for the phone. “One way to find out.”

He punched the number, listened for a few moments with his brows rising, then gave his and Rachel’s names and her number and asked that the call be returned to either of them as soon as possible.

“Voice mail?” Rachel asked as he hung up.

“Yeah.” He frowned. “John Elliot is out of town for an unspecified length of time. Rachel, he’s a private investigator.”

She leaned back slowly in the desk chair and stared at him. “So Dad wanted this JW investigated?”

“Looks like it.”

“But the bank has an investigator on retainer. Why would Dad use another one?”

“Maybe because this was one of his private loans.” Rachel shook her head. “There’s no date on the note.
We have no way of knowing if this JW was investigated before or after Dad lent him the money. Or even at all. It could be a plan he was never able to put into motion. Until John Elliot gets his messages and calls us …”

“We just have another question.”

Rachel took the note and said, “So I guess we just copy this, put a copy in the file with the rest of our bits and pieces—and keep looking while we wait for Elliot to call.”

Adam perched on the corner of the desk. “You sound discouraged.”

“Well, it’s like putting together a jigsaw puzzle when we don’t know what the picture is supposed to be.
And
half the pieces are missing. I’m afraid I’m going to look right at something vitally important and not realize it. Why the hell did Dad have to be so cryptic?”

“He was a very … discreet man.” Adam smiled.

“To a fault.”

“If you want to put off finishing this, Rachel—”

“No, no. It has to be done.”

“Yes, but not necessarily today. I know this is hard for you, and not just because we’re putting together a jigsaw puzzle. Maybe we need to take a break. Why don’t I buy you lunch, and then maybe we can take a closer look at that store you leased yesterday.”

Rachel smiled slightly. “You’re not going to let me off the leash, are you?”

He grimaced. “That obvious?”

“That you don’t want me leaving this house by myself? Oh, yes, it’s fairly obvious.”
But is it for my safety, Adam? Or for yours?

“Rachel, until we know more than we do now, it’s better to be safe than sorry. That explosion last Friday was too close for comfort.”

“I know, but, Adam, the mechanic admitted the cut brake line
could
have happened accidentally. And even though the police said the explosion was definitely arson, it’s happened more than once in that neighborhood in the past months, and nobody in the area saw anything.”

“We still don’t know who called the agent looking for you,” he reminded her.

“I know. And I mean to be careful. But I won’t be a prisoner. Even in my own house.”

He nodded. “Okay. But that aside, I still want to take you to lunch, and I’d like to hear your plans for the store. You’re not going to abandon me today just to prove a point, are you?”

“Of course not.” Rachel looked at him, wishing, for the first time that he didn’t look like Tom. But he did, and because he did, how could she trust the instincts telling her she could trust him?

“Good. Then why don’t you go grab a jacket and tell Fiona we’re leaving, and I’ll straighten up in here.”

“Okay. I won’t be a minute.”

“Take your time.”

When he was alone in the study, Adam hesitated, then picked up the phone and quickly punched a number. When the call was answered briefly, he said merely, “We’re leaving,” and hung up.

He quickly gathered up the scattered papers on the coffee table and put them into a box where they were keeping the items that didn’t mean anything to either of them. He locked the file with the new note and copies of the other notes and notebooks in the top center desk drawer.

He was about to close the desk drawer Rachel had been slowly emptying when something down at the very bottom
caught his attention. It looked like the corner of another small black notebook.

When Adam dug it out, that was exactly what it was. But this one was filled with numbers more cryptic than anything they’d yet found. And something that looked to him like some kind of code.

Adam hesitated, then swore under his breath and put the notebook into the inside pocket of his jacket, then locked up the drawer.

When Rachel came downstairs, he was waiting in the foyer, lounging back against the newel post and watching two of Darby’s men wrestle with a rather fine barrister bookcase. It was taking up much of the hallway leading toward the rear of the house.

Darby appeared with her ever-present clipboard, and Rachel said, “We’re going out for a while. If you need anything while I’m gone, just ask Fiona.”

“And hope she’s feeling charitable?”

“I’ve spoken to her. She promised to be polite and helpful.”

“Uh-huh. Well, we’ll see.”

A few minutes later, as they headed toward Richmond in Adam’s rental car, he said, “So Fiona’s rough on other people as well, huh? I thought it was just me.”

“No, she’s pretty democratic in her dislikes. Actually, though, she’s just slow to trust and hates change. But she’s been with my family a long time.”

“I gathered as much.”

There was a short silence, and to Rachel it felt a bit strained. If Adam had noticed her reserve, he hadn’t commented, but she couldn’t get last night’s dream and her doubts about him out of her mind. She cast about for something to say to break the silence. “We’ll have to go by Graham’s office before going to the store. He called last
night and said he got the keys from the agency when he took the signed lease by.”

Adam frowned slightly. “Rachel, I think you should arrange to have security in that store right away. A top-notch alarm system for sure, maybe even a security service to make regular patrols.”

“That’s what Graham said.”

“It’s a sensible idea.”

“I know. I’ll call and make the arrangements tomorrow. But I also have to arrange for some preliminary remodeling. At night we can lock everything up, but security won’t be very tight with workmen coming in and out during the daytime.”

Adam frowned, but didn’t comment.

Rachel wondered what disturbed him. The possible threat to her safety? Or something else? She wished she had the courage to ask.

When she spoke again as they reached the restaurant, it was to change the subject. “Have you talked to Nick lately?”

“I asked him if he’d told anyone about your plans for the boutique. Did you ask your uncle Cam, by the way?”

“Yes. He’d forgotten I’d even mentioned the plans. All he has on his mind these days is furniture. What about Nick?”

“Didn’t tell a soul.”

“Then it really is a short list of people who knew.”

“Unless …”

“Unless?”

“Unless the agent added that part when she realized you were upset. So she wouldn’t sound so irresponsible in telling a stranger where you’d be.”

“I never thought of that.” She sighed. “Why is nothing ever as simple as you think it is?”

Adam didn’t answer until he’d parked the car and come around to open her door. Then he said, “To keep us on our toes, maybe?” He was smiling, but his eyes weren’t.

“As good a reason as any, I guess.”

“Come on,” he said, offering his arm. “Let’s forget all about it for an hour or so.”

“That I definitely agree with,” Rachel said so cheerfully that she almost convinced herself.

The phone conversation was brief.

“You wanted to know where they went.”

“Yes.”

“A restaurant first. Then a quick stop at the lawyer’s office. She went in, he didn’t.”

“And from there?”

“Looks like they’re heading to the store.”

“All right.”

“Do you want me to—”

“I want you to follow your orders.”

“Right.”

“And this time don’t fuck up.”

“I’m surprised Becket didn’t insist on coming along,” Adam commented as Rachel unlocked the front door of the store and they went inside.

“He did make a suggestion.”

“That he come along?”

“It might be a good idea, he said. Just to look the place over and hear about all my plans. So he could advise me about business permits and so on.”

“Which you’re perfectly capable of finding out on your own.”

“Exactly what I told him.”

Adam looked at the big empty space surrounding them. “Still, this is quite an undertaking. Maybe he
could
advise you.”

“You’re more charitable about him than he is about you.” Rachel kept her voice casual.

“I’m a nice guy.”

Are you? Are you really?
“And not a suspicious lawyer.”

“I guess it’s an occupational hazard for him.”

“Definitely more charitable than Graham.” Rachel shook her head, then said, “I want to go check out the back. I didn’t take more than a quick look last time.”

“Hold on a second.” Adam slipped around her, moving quickly enough to catch her off guard, and went through the door into the back areas of the building.

By the time Adam reappeared, Rachel had managed to remind herself that all kinds of appearances could be deceptive. Maybe Adam really was worried about her safety.

Or maybe he just wanted her to think so.

God, I hate this!

“Satisfied?” she asked lightly.

Equally lightly, he said, “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t out to get you. Being careful never hurts.”

“What did you expect to find back there?”

“A clear space and a locked rear door. Which is what I found.”

“You do realize this place doesn’t even have gas heat? It’s electric.”

“I realize it now—after seeing the furnace in the back.”

“May I go back there now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They were, she thought, both being polite. Very polite. “I need to get a rough estimate of the space back there.”

He followed her this time. “So you can get the work started?”

“That’s the idea.” She stood beside a tall stepladder left behind by the previous occupant, opened the small notebook she’d brought along, and used one of the steps as a makeshift desk.

While he watched, she paced off the dimensions of the office space, then did the same in the storage area behind it, and recorded the rough measurements in her notebook. “Plenty of space.”

“I’d say so.”

She looked at him quickly, the hair on the nape of her neck stirring suddenly. “What’s wrong?”

Adam was looking slowly around. “Nothing.”

“There is something. I can hear it in your voice.”

He shook his head. “I thought I heard something, but I guess not. Are you about done?”

Rachel closed the notebook and put it in her shoulder bag. “I have enough to get started with.”

“Then let’s go.” He took her hand, and she could feel his tension as they walked through the big, echoing space of the store.

Because he thought something might happen? Or because he knew something would? As Graham had pointed out to her earlier, just because Adam was with her when something happened didn’t necessarily acquit him of being responsible, as Rachel had assumed. He could, Graham had suggested, be working with a partner.

The suggestion made Rachel feel a bit sick.

When they stood outside on the sidewalk and Rachel
had locked the door behind them, she realized she’d been almost holding her breath. It sounded a little shaky when she let it go.