Secrets (25 page)

Cassie felt along the floor, searching the beautiful wide pine planks. They were probably made from trees cut down when the house was built, she thought. She searched, running her hands across every joint, but she couldn't find even one loose board, certainly not one that she could lift with her fingernails as Althea had written that Ruth Landau did.

She sat back on her heels. “I can't find it,” she said. “Do you think that Charles found it and had the board nailed down?”

When Jeff didn't answer, she turned to look at him. He was sitting on the bed, his hands poised over the BlackBerry keyboard, but they weren't moving. Instead, his eyes were staring at her, and they had an odd, glazed look.

There are some things that are as ancient as time, and knowing when a man desires you is one of those. It took Cassie a moment to think about what had caused that look on Jeff's face. She thought of how she'd just been on her hands and knees with her backside in the air.

She had to work to hide her smile. Althea had said that Cassie had been a fool when she lived in Jeff's house. She'd made no effort to turn him on sexually. Instead, Cassie had dressed in heavy clothes that were much too big for her, and she'd done her best to play down the sexual aspect of their nonrelationship. At the moment, now that she was seeing Jeff's face—and the beads of sweat on his forehead—she couldn't remember why she'd done that. Why hadn't she done what Skylar did and parade before Jeff in next to nothing?

“Are you all right?” Cassie asked, feigning innocence. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“What the hell have you done to yourself?”

“Nothing much. Althea sent me to a personal trainer who was a sadist. The man nearly killed me, but it worked.” Blinking her eyelashes, she turned a bit and put her hand on her backside. “Firmed this up rather a lot, don't you think?”

“Cassie,” Jeff said in a hoarse voice. “When we get out of here—”

“Yes?” she asked, still blinking at him.

He didn't answer but got off the bed, went to the wardrobe, and pulled out his suitcase. He pulled the lining out and there was an entire set of household tools neatly fitted into the back. He took out a screwdriver and went to the floorboards. Three minutes later, he had pried a board up and exposed an empty place beneath it.

“Sixty years of waxing the floor probably sealed it,” he said, then took his BlackBerry and went to the far side of the room to sit in a big armchair.

Cassie looked into the space in the floor and saw nothing but dust and some dead bugs. She was reluctant to put her hand inside the space. She turned on the lamp on the bedside table, picked it up, removed the shade, and shined it into the hole. She thought she saw something under the dirt.

Jeff had left his screwdriver on the table so she used it to stir the dust about. In the bottom was a little red envelope that she recognized right away. It was the kind of envelope that held a safe-deposit key. She got tissues from the box on the table and withdrew the envelope.

When she glanced at Jeff she saw that he was watching her intently. So much for not being interested, she thought. She wiped the hanging dirt off the envelope, then opened it. As she'd thought, inside was the key to a safe-deposit box, impressed with a number. The envelope was stamped with
HINTON BANK
,
HINTON
,
TEXAS
.

“What have you found?” Jeff asked.

She went to him, sat on the arm of the chair, and showed it to him.

“Useless,” he said, handing it back to her.

“Why do you think that?”

“Unless the rent is paid on a safe-deposit box, it's opened. Who could have paid the rent on this for sixty-plus years?”

“I don't know,” she said, feeling disappointed. “Does that thing hook to the Internet?” She nodded at his BlackBerry.

“I could program a satellite with this one.”

“Oh, right, how could I forget? You're a big-deal CIA agent.” She got up from the chair. “You think I have time to take a shower before your people arrive?”

“Sure.” He nodded toward the open door to the bathroom. “Just leave the door open so I can make sure no one tries to harm you.”

“Funny. I was thinking of going to my own room where I have my own clothes.”

“I rather like that thing you have on. Beats your usual sweats.”

“Althea does have good taste, doesn't she? Look, I really would like to take a shower.”

He looked at her in speculation, as though he knew she was lying. “I take it you brought your laptop and it has a wireless connection.”

She couldn't hide her smile. Since he'd found her in that cabin, hiding in the closet, he no longer assumed that her motives were what they appeared to be. “Yes and yes.”

“All right,” he said, “what do you want me to look up?”

She sat back on the arm of the chair. “Hinton, Texas.”

He typed in the name and came up with nothing. “Doesn't exist.”

“Hmm,” Cassie said, getting up and walking across the room. “I bet Hinton was born there and took the name of his hometown for his stage name. It's my guess that after he was arrested for murder, they changed the name of the town.”

“Makes sense,” Jeff said, looking down at the tiny keyboard again. “All those old-time stars changed their names. You know what Althea's real name is?”

“I have no idea.”

“Susie Pickens.”

Cassie sat down on the end of the bed. “Really,” she said and felt deflated. It was a long way from Susie Pickens to Althea Fairmont. “What about her life story about her mother and how she stole everything from Althea?”

“A lie,” Jeff said, not looking up from the keyboard. “She was born to a nice, middle-class family in a small town outside L.A. Her father was a banker. When Susie was four she decided she was going to be a movie star and bullied her poor mother into taking her to the sets.”

“But what about her mother spending all her money?” Cassie asked, feeling as though a childhood illusion was being shattered.

“You've met Althea. Do you think she'd let anyone take what was hers?”

“But she was a child.”

Jeff looked up at her. “As far as I can tell, Althea was never a child.”

“Oh,” Cassie said, sighing, and thinking of all Althea had told her. But the story of being a misfit was still the same. “But what about—” She didn't say any more because they heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter outside.

“Dad,” Jeff said, jumping up.

“He couldn't get here from Virginia that fast,” Cassie said. “Unless the CIA now has an atomic transporter.”

Jeff didn't laugh. “No, I have a suspicious father. He didn't trust Althea with this weekend so he drove to Delray. He's never been far away.”

Cassie didn't move off the bed. “No one is who I thought they were,” she said. “You, your father, Althea. The next thing you'll tell me is that Elsbeth is a junior agent.”

Jeff was looking out the window, and when he didn't say anything, Cassie looked at him. “Does your five-year-old daughter know what you do for a living? I mean, really do, not the bridges that you don't build.”

“Actually, I'm a teacher,” he said.

She started to ask him more questions but halted when he reached behind the headboard and withdrew a shoulder holster and a gun. “A teacher?” she asked, and her voice squeaked. “Just a teacher?”

Jeff checked the gun to see if it was loaded, then he strapped on the holster. “After Lillian was murdered, I—”

“Murdered?” Cassie asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Yeah, murdered,” Jeff said, anger in his voice. “Murdered because of me. I was involved in something big, and when I turned in the criminals, their friends decided to teach me a lesson by murdering my wife.”

Cassie put her hand to her throat. “What happened to the men?” she whispered.

“They're all dead now. Every one of them. Would you get my jacket out of the closet?”

“Your gray one?”

“Yeah,” he said with a half smile. “The one you gave me for Christmas last year.”

She got the jacket out and held it for a moment. “I didn't mean for it to be used to cover a gun.”

“Listen, Cass, I want you to stay here and wait for me. Don't let anyone in other than Dad or me. Got that? Not even if some guy tells you he's from the FBI, don't open that door. Got it?”

“Sure,” she said, “but, really, couldn't I go to my room and change my clothes?”

Jeff looked her up and down. “Yeah. I don't want the guys seeing you in that.”

“I thought you liked this.”

“I do, for me, that is. But I've seen paint that was looser than that thing. Ah,” he said as he heard three knocks on the door. “Dad.”

Quickly, Jeff opened the door and there stood his father. But he didn't look like the semi-invalid Cassie knew. This man wasn't the one who grew purple potatoes and spent the days playing with his granddaughter. This man had his hand on a gun under his leather jacket and his eyes searched the room before he entered and shut the door behind him. It was a gesture she'd seen him make a thousand times, but until now, she'd never understood the significance of it.

When Thomas saw Cassie, he gave her a quick up-and-down look to ascertain that she was all right. “I knew this would happen,” Thomas said. “Damn Althea! It was my gut instinct that she was up to something. What did you find in Faulkener's room?” he asked Jeff.

“Nothing. I didn't touch anything. I'll let you guys do that.”

He turned to Cassie. “Did you find anything?”

“She was with me,” Jeff began, but stopped when Cassie reached inside her bra, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to Thomas.

Jeff looked at her, aghast. “Why didn't you give
me
that?”

“You don't trust me, I don't trust you,” Cassie said sweetly.

Thomas chuckled. “I told you you were wrong in not telling her you were madly in love with her,” he said to his son.

“Give me a break,” Jeff said and took the paper from his father's hand. He scanned it quickly, then handed it back to his father. “This is what they wanted. It's an updated list of Faulkener's contacts. It's my guess that his murderer is on this list.”

Once he had the paper, the energy seemed to leave Thomas. He walked across the room to sit down in the big armchair, then looked up at Cassie. “I must say, my dear, that you look magnificent. Doesn't she, Jefferson?”

“Too good,” Jeff muttered as he began to toss his clothes in his suitcase. “I want to get out of this place. I've had enough of Althea's games. When we get home, I'm going to recommend that she be moved somewhere else.”

“She'll never agree,” Thomas said, then patted the arm of the chair for Cassie to sit by him. Smiling, she did so. “I want to hear every word of what you've done since my son ran you off with his constant neglect of you.”

Jeff groaned but he made no comment.

“Thanks to Althea, I had a great time in Fort Lauderdale. I met some very nice people,” Cassie said.

“And spent some time in a gymnasium, I see.”

Cassie leaned toward him. “
He
asked me if I'd changed my hair.”

“But then he's not very smart when it comes to women.”

“Not at all,” Cassie said, smiling. “How is your heart?”

“His heart is fine,” Jeff said. “Nothing wrong with him but a few old bullet wounds.”

“Is that true?” Cassie asked Thomas.

“'Fraid so, but there are a number of them. Some of them are too close to important vessels, so they can't be removed.”

Leaning over him, she kissed his forehead. “I'm sorry that all this has caused so much trouble.”

“It wasn't your fault. It's just Althea's love of drama that sent you here. And matchmaking, of course.” He looked up at her. “Has it worked?”

“Not in the least,” Cassie said as she stood up. “Since the house is now filled with…whomever is here, is it all right if I put on some other clothes?”

“On one condition,” Thomas said. “You must promise me that you won't put on blue jeans. How I do hate those awful things.”

“Althea sent me a wardrobe that includes beautiful trousers that are as perfect today as they would have been in the 1940s.”

“Good,” Thomas said. “Change and you can go back to Williamsburg with us.”

Cassie turned away so neither man could see her face. Like father, like son, she thought. Both of them assumed that she was now going to return with them. No doubt they thought she'd move back into the house with them and everything would be just as it was.

“How's Elsbeth?” Cassie asked. Outside she could hear a siren in the distance. It looked as though the police had been called at last.

“Fine,” Thomas said. “She went to the Bahamas with Dana and Roger. Did Jeff tell you about Dana?”

“Not a word, “Cassie said.

“It seems that Dana got up the gumption to tell her husband that it was either the boat or her. Wisely, Roger chose his wife.”

“He didn't tell me anything about them,” Cassie said, sending Jeff an angry look. “All he's done is dump guilt on me for abandoning his dirty socks.”

“I never—” Jeff began, then shrugged and fastened his suitcase. “We can talk about all this later, but now I want you to get packed. I'll give you twenty minutes, then we're out of this place. I've had enough of it all.”

“Sure,” Cassie said as she went to the door. “I'll be ready.”

Jeff escorted her to her room and left her at the door. “Twenty minutes,” he said, as though she hadn't heard him.

As soon as Cassie was inside the room, she started running. She took a three-minute shower, barely dried off, then pulled on a pair of slacks and a knit shirt. She got her cell phone off the dresser and called Althea while she was packing.