Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments: Rose Gardner Mystery #7 (3 page)

“Thanks, Dena,” I said as I headed for the door.

“Come back soon, Rose.”

I held up the bag. “No worries there!”

It took no more than a couple of minutes for me to walk to the courthouse. The security guard on duty was an elderly man who loved to tease me whenever I came to visit Mason.

“You brought me a piece of pie, Rose?”

I laughed. “You know darn good and well whose pie that is.”

He chuckled. “I bet Mr. Deveraux didn’t know he was gonna get fed so well when he started dating you.”

“I’ve got to think of some way to convince him to keep me around,” I teased as I walked through the security sensor.

He shook his head, his eyes dancing with merriment. “I’m certain he doesn’t need much convincin’.”

When I walked into Mason’s office, his secretary, Kaylee, glanced up and a smile spread across her face. “Rose. Mr. Deveraux is expecting you, but he got called away for a few minutes. He said to tell you to go on into his office.”

“Thanks.”

Multiple files were scattered across his desk, making it look messier than usual. I didn’t want to put his pie on any of the folders, and I certainly didn’t want to move anything, so I set the bag on the window ledge and took in the view of the square. Thankfully the rain had let up and the sun was peeking through the clouds, which surely had to be good for Neely Kate’s disposition.

I was going to have to ask Mason to loan me money and that burned my gut like I’d been stabbed with a white-hot poker. I knew he wouldn’t mind. In fact, he’d be more than willing to help. But I hated to think I was about to be
that
girlfriend.

I moved back over to his desk and sat in his chair. My gaze drifted over the folders again, and a name on one of the tabs caught my eye. I leaned forward and gasped.

Dora Middleton.

Mason had a file on my birth mother.

Mason was keeping secrets from me.

A surge of anger rose in my chest, but I quickly stomped it down. This was an official file. Mason kept a file on J.R. locked in the desk drawer at home. That case was private. This file was mixed in with all his others, which meant it was probably official business in some way. He’d made it clear to me that he couldn’t share confidential information with me, which I understood well enough. The question was why did he have a file on my birth mother? Was it about the car accident that had killed her?

I cast a quick glance toward the door. Kaylee was sitting at her desk, her back to me. I knew what I was about to do was wrong. It was a breach of trust between Mason and me. But a file with information about Dora was
right there
in front of me. What was I supposed to do? Just let it sit there?

I quickly slid the manila folder off the desk and spun Mason’s chair around so I had my back to the door, hoping it would keep Kaylee from realizing what I was doing. Holding my breath, I opened the file, but I instantly realized there was very little information inside. He’d found a photo of her somewhere—it looked like an employee ID photo—and paper-clipped it to the front flap of the folder. She was staring at the camera with a serious expression on her face. I had no idea when the photo had been taken, but her hairstyle and youthful appearance led me to believe it had been taken a few years before my birth.

A yellow legal pad sheet was in the folder, covered in Mason’s neat handwriting. That surprised me. He kept most of his case notes in files on his computer. And anything he needed a hard copy of was printed out. This didn’t look like an official file after all, which helped me feel less guilty when I picked up the paper and started to read.

Dora Colleen Middleton, died December 10, 1986

Born in Shreveport, LA on March 13, 1960. Parents Ned and Barbara Middleton, Shreveport. 

Parents died when she was five. 

Raised by maternal grandparents John and Rose Forester, Fenton County.

Attended Eastern Fenton County High School

Fenton County Community College 1978-1981

Moved to Shreveport 1981-1983 employment unknown

Employed by Atchison Manufacturing February 1983-September 1986

Employed by Pierce Construction September 1986-December 1986 (death)

Small life insurance policy ($25,000)

Farm and small inheritance from grandparents went to Rose (approximate worth $200,000 at time of death)

Seeing Harrison Gardner from ??? until death

One known child, Rose Anne Gardner November 8, 1986

No known living relatives

Part of possible extortion scheme in the summer of 1986

I gasped. Extortion? What did that mean? Had she been extorted or had she been the one doing the extorting?

Mason’s secretary’s voice shook me out of my stupor. “Hi, Mr. Deveraux. Rose is waiting in your office for you.”

“Thanks, Kaylee.”

My head was still whirling from shock, but I gathered my senses enough to slap the folder shut. I spun around in the chair and slipped the file under another one. It looked innocuous enough, but fear made my heart stutter as Mason’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. Had he seen me?

A smile spread across his face, mischievousness filling his eyes. “You look like you belong in that chair, Ms. Gardner.”

I laughed nervously, thankful my covert actions appeared to have gone undetected. “I won’t be fightin’ you for it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I gave him a mischievous grin of my own. “I have something for you.”

“Kaylee, hold my calls,” he said as he shut the door and moved toward me.

A warm flutter replaced my nervousness. Mason Deveraux was a strikingly handsome man. Before I snatched him off the market, he was considered the second most eligible bachelor in Fenton County, after Brody MacIntosh, the Henryetta mayor. Staring into his hazel eyes and his gorgeous face framed by dark blond hair, which was currently in need of a trim, I had to wonder why they hadn’t pegged him as first. Even now, months into our relationship, he still took my breath away, reminding me that I trusted this man. It took away some of the sting that he was so obviously withholding information about Dora from me. “From the look in your eyes, I suspect you’re going to be disappointed.”

He placed his hands on the arms of his chair and leaned over, his face inches from mine. “If it’s from you, never.”

I gave him a soft kiss, then murmured against his lips, “This isn’t it.”

He kissed me again before he lifted his head. “I suspected as much. But it’s a good substitute for now.”

I pushed on his chest and he captured one of my hands in his, pulling me up with him. “So what’s this surprise you brought me?”

I walked over to the window. The partially obscured file on Mason’s desk caught my eye and I considered pulling it out and confronting him now, but I still felt caught off-guard. It would be wiser to sit on the information for a spell so I could think of the best way to broach the topic. I picked up the pastry bag instead.

“Do I see Dena’s Bakery on that bag?”

I laughed. “Nothing gets by you, Mr. Assistant DA.” I pulled out the cardboard box and a plastic fork. “Not even apple crisp pie.”

“You sure know how to spoil me, Rose,” he murmured as he took the pie from me and sat down at his desk. He opened the box and grinned.

I carefully sat on the edge of his desk, trying not to disturb his papers. “Actually, I’m trying to butter you up.”

Something in my tone caught his attention and he looked up, worry in his eyes. “Why?”

I glanced down at my lap. Oh, crappy doodles, this was hard. It would have been hard to ask him for money at any time, and it was even more so now. Why hadn’t he told me he was investigating Dora? But I wasn’t ready to let him know what I’d seen, so I forced myself to focus on my original task. I took a deep breath and looked up into his face. “I just gave Violet approval to hire someone to help her at the shop. I think she’ll start soon.”

His eyebrows lifted in a hopeful expression. “That’s a good thing, right? The shop’s busy enough to warrant hiring her.”

“Yes, of course.” I glanced down at his desk again.
Out with it.
Squaring my shoulders, I faced him again. “But the shop is the only thing making money right now, and I’m sinking it all back into the business. I’m currently
losing
money with the landscaping business.” I shook my head slowly. “Maybe I was too hasty decidin’ to open it this soon.”

He put his container on his desk and leaned forward, snagging my hands in his. “Rose. You knew it wouldn’t make money at first. Especially in the winter. But come spring, I’m sure you’ll have more than enough business to keep you busy
and
afloat. Where’s this coming from?”

Tears burned my eyes. “I’m broke, Mason. The truth is, I scraped together the last of my money to buy you that pie and Neely Kate a few cupcakes. I’m twenty-five years old and I don’t have a penny to my name.”

He stood and pulled me into his arms, my cheek resting against his chest. “Sweetheart, you’re far from broke. You’re currently cash poor with no easily accessible liquid assets. There’s a difference.”

“It doesn’t feel like it at the moment. I can finally shop at the Piggly Wiggly now, but I can’t even go in there and buy something to make dinner.”

“Of course you can. I’ve been chipping in with grocery money.”

I pulled back and looked into his face. “No, you’ve been outright payin’ for the groceries.”

A soft smile lit up his face. “And I’ve been eating them too. Hell, I eat way more than you do. Why shouldn’t I be paying?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I know. It’s just…”

His hand cupped my cheek and tilted my head up to look into his eyes. “I know how important it is for you to feel independent. Even though we’re together. And trust me, I love that you’re not a clinging, helpless woman.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “I’ve made no secret of the fact I want to marry you someday. I’m as sure of that as I am that Miss Mildred will be calling in a new neighborhood watch complaint on some pour soul within the next couple of days.” He grinned. “When we’re married, I hope you won’t insist on keeping our money separate.”

“No, of course not.” Honestly, I hadn’t considered it, but as soon as he said it I knew I would want to share everything with him, including money.

He paused, seeming to think through his next words before saying them. “You love me, right?”

“How can you even ask that? You know I do.”

“Do you plan on breaking up with me in the near future?”

I was about to lambast him, but I saw the teasing gleam in his eyes. I gave him an ornery grin and tilted my head. “I’m still weighing my options.”

He laughed. “Then I guess I need to step up my game.” He pressed his lips to mine, his kiss full of passion and fire, leaving me breathless and wanting. “Does that help sway you?”

“I forgot the question.” He laughed again, a rich, warm sound that filled me with happiness and contentment. “No, Mason. I have no
current
plans to break up with you.”

His grin lit up his eyes. “Keeping me on my toes. I always knew you were a smart woman.” But then his expression turned more serious. “I have no plans of going anywhere, and we both see marriage in our future. Why don’t we take a test drive, so to speak?”

My playfulness slipped away. “What does that mean?”

His arms tightened around me. “I’d like to open a joint bank account.”

“Why?”

“Then it’s
our
money. Not yours and mine.”

“But I don’t have any money to put in it.”

“You don’t right now. But you will this spring.” He sensed my hesitation and pushed on. “We can keep our separate checking accounts, but agree to put in, say…two thousand a month. Enough to pay the utilities, the groceries, eating out, and so on.”

I tried to pull loose from him, but he held me close. “I don’t know.”

“That’s all money we spend on
us
, right?” he asked.

“Well, yeah…”

“So we fund it every month. We’ll make the contributions based on percentages of the previous month’s gross income.”

“That means you’ll be funding it all.”

His eyes lit up. “This month. And probably for another month or so.” His grin turned wicked. “But soon the nursery and the landscaping company will be busting at the seams with business and you’ll be making twice as much as me. Then you’ll be the majority funder.”

I patted his chest and laughed. “So this is all part of some devious long-range scheme for
you
to live off
me
.”

“Dammit, you caught me.”

I knew he was teasing, and I also recognized this for what it was: his attempt to give me money without making me feel bad about it. It only made me love him more. “Okay.”

“Okay?
Really?
”

I tilted my head. “You’re very convincing. I can see why you placed third at state in debate in high school.”

A mock-serious look filled his eyes. “It was second.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. Sweet moments like this one made me believe that everything would work out. That J.R. Simmons would destroy his false blackmail charges against me. That Skeeter Malcolm would drop his claim on me as the Lady in Black. That Mason would never find out about my secret life and we’d get married and have kids and live at the farmhouse until we were ninety-five, spending our days on the front porch watching our great-grandkids play while we drank iced tea.