Playing with Fire (25 page)

“I guess.” But she couldn’t shake the feeling of dejection.

He moved her a couple of inches away from him and looked down at her. “Why don’t you spend the day here tomorrow while I’m working, instead of going back to the other house? You’ve done all you can there, anyway. Tomorrow night, we’ll go through that box of papers.”

She nodded, knowing he was right. At the moment, she just wanted to lie down and close her eyes and forget about everything. She was tired of the town, tired of looking for a needle in a haystack, tired of everyone’s attitude. The problem was, her anger kept her going.

“Okay. Just point me to a bed, and I’ll try to keep my eyes open till we get there.”

But her mind was already focused on the next day.

Griff was already out of the house when Cassie awoke the next morning, but he’d left a note on the pillow next to her.

Back in a minute with breakfast. Extra toothbrush in bathroom. Love, G.

She smiled and stretched like a lazy cat. A satisfied cat. She liked having someone watch over her. By the time she was showered and dressed again, albeit in yesterday’s clothes, Griff was back with two bags from McDonald’s.

“McMuffins and coffee.” He held up the goodies. “Hope that’s okay.”

“An excellent choice. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “You spoil me,”

They munched breakfast in an easy silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.

“Okay,” Griff said when they finished and he’d thrown away their trash. “I’m off. All my fans are eagerly waiting for me. I have a longer break than usual in the middle of the day, so I’ll be here at lunch. Since there’s not much food in the house at the moment, I’ll pick something up. You can give me an update then.”

“Let’s hope I’ll have something to talk about.” She had mixed feelings of anticipation and dread. “Something we can deal with.”

“Dewdrop.” He smiled and placed a kiss on her nose. “As long as we’re in this together, we can deal with anything.”

Cassie watched him drive away then went back to work, searching the house. But as the morning wore on, and she had little success, she was afraid she wouldn’t have much at all to tell him. But as she started up the stairs, she noticed a tiny closet wedged under the stairway. The door was locked, but she’d faced that problem before. Many times as a reporter she’d been confronted with locked spaces and managed to get into them. As long as she didn’t get arrested, her bosses looked the other way.

In the kitchen junk drawer, she found a small screwdriver. It took her less than five minutes to jimmy the lock and drag the door open. When she looked inside, she found an odd collection of old and dusty suitcases of every size and shape. She guessed after Griff’s mother died, no one did any traveling. She pulled them out into the hall then sat down to open them one by one.

The first two were duds, containing nothing of value. The third one, however, yielded a real treasure, a small packet of papers held together with a rubber band. Hands shaking, Cassie pulled them out to look at them and discovered they were notes written on scraps of paper.

Cassie’s hands shook as she read first one then another.

Meet me tonight, same place. All I have is an hour, though.

I can take a long lunch today. You know where.

You were fantastic the other night. I can’t wait any longer to be with you again.

And on and on and on.

The notes were printed, not written, an obvious attempt to disguise the handwriting. However, she knew an expert could make a match with something to use as comparison. Some of the notes were explicit, suggestive, even erotic at times. Whoever wrote them was meeting on a regular basis with Diane. Put these together with the note she’d found in her father’s slacks, and a picture began to emerge.

Cassie didn’t know why her sister had risked keeping the notes, except that, even at twenty-four, she’d still had a teenager’s perspective. Having a secret lover would have been romantic to her. The danger in keeping the notes and hiding them would have appealed to her.

She set the bundle aside and resumed her search, checking the rest of the luggage.

By the time noon rolled around, she’d added two expensive-looking bracelets and two notes Diane had written to herself. She was reading those when she heard Griff come in.

He shook his head when she pointed to the space under the stairs.

“You know, I’d forgotten all about that little cubbyhole. We sure never had any use for suitcases after my mother died. What did you find?”

“After lunch.” She got up and walked into the kitchen.

“Is it that good or that bad?” he asked with apprehension, following her.

“After lunch,” she repeated. “Go wash up.”

She kept the conversation light while they ate. They talked again about the possible buyers for her house and what she would do if one of them made an offer. Griffin told her he’d called both the nursery and the agent for the land and made appointments for Saturday.

After she cleared away the debris from lunch, Cassie retrieved her morning’s treasures and set everything on the table. “Look at these and I think you’ll see a picture emerging.”

“Quite a haul,” he commented when he was finished.

“Do you recognize the bracelets?”

He shook his head. “No. Not at all.”

“She never wore them?” Cassie thought how unbelievable it was that her sister had taken this jewelry from someone and never worn it.

“Not around me. They look pretty expensive. I could never have bought anything like that for her. Not then.” He picked up the papers and scanned them again.

“I’m not showing these to Dangler,” she told him.

“No?”

She shook her head. “First of all, he’s still determined to prove it was you. Second, I think if he gets this stuff in his hands, it will disappear. He’s much more interested in protecting the reputations of the upright citizens of Stoneham than yours or mine or Diane’s.” She swept everything into a pile.

“That’s no lie.”

“No,” she continued. “I think we’re going to have to do this ourselves. Also, these two sheets of paper lead me to believe Diane kept a diary. I’m assuming for whatever reason she couldn’t get to it when she wrote these notes. I’ll just bet she’s got some names in there nobody wants made public.”

“That has to be what someone’s looking for.”

“I’m going back to my house later.” She cleared everything away. “I want to take one more look around. So come there after work, okay?”

“Okay. Watch yourself, though.” He kissed her and was gone.

She refused to go through the room Griffin’s parents had shared without him there, so she forced herself to go into his room. Closet first, she thought. But nothing remained of Diane, not the smallest trace.

She dragged a chair in from the guest room, stood on it, and searched around the closet shelf. Again nothing. She even tested the ceiling to see if there were any panels that might lift but no luck there, either. As little as the closet revealed, Diane might never have been in the room.

She figured the rest of the furniture would be a waste; Griffin had told her he bought everything new after Diane’s death. If there was anything to find, it would have turned up then. Curiosity got the better of her, though, and she couldn’t resist peeking in his drawers.

Like the rest of the house, everything was precise and neat. Nothing unusual. Underwear, socks, T-shirts. She lifted one of his T-shirts out and held it to her face, wishing it held his male scent. As she did so, the pile shifted and found a wallet hidden under the pile. It wasn’t the one he carried now, and it piqued her curiosity.

It appeared old, the leather worn and faded. When she opened it, there was only one thing in it, something that made her catch her breath. She stared at a picture of herself that had to be ten years old. She stood with two of her friends in her cheerleading uniform in front of the high school. Someone must have said something funny because her head was thrown back and she was laughing.

She hadn’t even known the picture was taken, or who had snapped it. Or how Griff had gotten hold of it. He would have been twenty at the time, not given to hanging out with high school students, virgins or not, so he must have had a reason for wanting this. It amazed her he’d kept it all this time.

She replaced it in the drawer and laid the T-shirts back in their neat stack. All of a sudden, a dull headache throbbed behind her eyes. It was time for her to get out of this house until Griff could help her finish up.

The rest of the afternoon was not just fruitless, it was also depressing. Cassie returned to her house knowing she wouldn’t find anything new. When Griff showed up after work, he bullied her into her car and made her follow him home. Over pizza, they dragged up every detail of everything they’d learned so far, but still no clue as to the whereabouts of the diary.

“It has to be somewhere we haven’t thought of.” She gathered their trash and dumped it in the wastebasket. “I’m certain whoever killed Diane killed my father. It just fits too well.”

“We’ll finish going through this house tomorrow night,” he promised, “but we also need to think of other places she might have picked to stash it.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “We’re missing something. I just wish I knew what.”

“Whatever it is, we want to find it before our mysterious stranger steps up his activities.”

Cassie had just finished dressing the next morning when Neil McLeod called her cell phone to give her what she’d taken to calling his Griffin Hunter speech.

“I see you’ve already moved into Hunter’s house,” he began.

“Leave it alone, Neil.” She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself stabbing him with his letter opener.

“In good conscience, I feel I have to make one more attempt to talk sense into you,” he went on. “You don’t know what a big mistake you’re making here.”

“The truth, Neil?” She took great pleasure in her words, “I think for the first time in my life I’m
not
making a mistake. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I’m enjoying it.”

“I’m just worried about your inheritance. I feel a proprietary interest in it and you.”

God, can he sound any more pompous and full of himself?

“My inheritance?” She bit back her irritation. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I understand Griffin is planning on buying a business and some property over in Marble Hill,” he related. “Is it your money he’s using, Cassie? Has he already got his hooks into you?”

She was so furious she was almost speechless and had to swallow twice to control herself.
Okay, no more being polite.
“First of all, I don’t know how you found out about Marble Hill, but it’s none of your damn business. Neither is my money. It’s mine, and I can do what I want with it.”

“So, that’s the way he plays it.” Neil was nasty. “Well, it’s no less than I expected from him.”

“Damn it, Neil.” She gripped her cell phone, imagining it was his neck. “I’m getting really tired of this song. Stay out of my business.
Our
business. If I had wanted your advice, I would have asked for it.”

“Your mother always took my advice.”

“Well, my mother isn’t here anymore,” she pointed out, “and I’m a little better prepared to make my own decisions.”

“You know, the chief still thinks Griffin’s the one who killed Diane.” His tone was harsh and filled with irritation he couldn’t quite conceal.

“Is that so?”
God, what an ass.
“Well, I may be digging up a few surprises on that score.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the line. “Don’t let Griffin Hunter sell you a bill of goods.” His anger vibrated across the connection.

“For your information, Griffin and I are planning to be married. So, save your breath from now on.”

“Walk away from this, Cassie.” He hung up without even a good-bye.

She stood there, holding the phone, wondering how and why she’d ever thought these were nice people. Then she shoved the phone in her pocket and set the coffee to brewing. She had just filled a mug when her cell rang again.

Now what?
She dug it out to answer.

“I wanted to touch base with you and make sure you were doing all right.” Donald Brandon’s oily words slid over the phone wires. “I know this has been a sad and trying time for you, Cassie.”

Had they all decided to tag team her?

“No offense, Donald,” she said, biting off each word, “but it would be a lot less trying if all of you would just leave me alone.”

“Why, Cassie, no offense taken,” he said, his tone changing, “but I’m sorry you feel that way. The thing we all want is to make this time of grief easier for you and help you settle things here.”

And get out of town
. “I’m fine, Donald. I’m handling things well. You can tell all the rest of your friends I can do without the calls and warnings. I’m not an idiot. I know what I’m doing.”

Silence hung between them for a moment. “I see Griffin Hunter is still hanging around, sucking up to you. I hope you’re on your guard with him.”

“For God’s sake, Donald,” she snapped. “That’s insulting. As a matter fact, Griff and I are engaged.”

Dead silence filled the other end of the call. Cassie chuckled to herself as she pictured Donald at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

“I would feel derelict in my duty,” he said at last, “if I didn’t remind you the chief still believes Griffin is Diane’s killer.”

“You know,” she said, “the chief would do a lot better to stop pointing the finger at Griffin and try to find the real killer.”

“Go away, Cassie. Leave Stoneham, and we’ll leave you alone.” When he hung up the harsh sound of the receiver being slammed down echoed in her ears.

The next one on the tag team was Cyrus McLeod, and she made short shrift of him. His professed paternal concern sounded like so much garbage to her, and she told him so.

“You’re burning a lot of bridges,” he pointed out. “The sooner you finish up here and leave, the better for everyone.”