Heidi Betts – The Kincaids: New Money: Behind Boardroom Doors (страница 8)

Her eyes filled with tears, but she managed to blink them back. “I do miss your father, even after all that’s happened.”

“Of course you do.” He took her hands in his. They were cold and bony, and he chafed them lightly, trying to warm them. “But you bringing dinner doesn’t make you a murderer.”

“It makes me a murder suspect.”

RJ frowned. Something was seriously off here. “But how did the police know you were there?” The front desk didn’t bother logging family members or employees, who were allowed to come and go as they pleased.

“Someone saw me.”

“Who?” What kind of person would finger his mom at the crime scene?

She hesitated. Looked away. “Does it really matter? I don’t even remember if anyone saw me. As I said, I was there.”

“The accusations still don’t make sense. You have no motivation to kill Dad. For one thing, you were as much in the dark as the rest of us about Angela and her sons.” The words soured in his mouth. “I wish to God none of us had ever found out.”

She pulled her hands back and placed them in her lap. “I have a confession to make, RJ.”

RJ’s eyes widened. “What?” Was she going to admit to killing his dad? His stomach roiled.

“I did know about Angela.” Her eyes were dry, her expression composed. “I’d known for some years. Ever since I found an earlier version of Reginald’s will in his desk while looking for a calculator.”

RJ swallowed. So his suspicion was correct. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Your father and I had words, but he convinced me to stay with him for the sake of the family. The reputation, the company, you know how important all that was to him.” She smoothed back her hair. “And to me.”

He blinked, unable to process this. “So you were sitting there with us at family dinners, week after week, and you never breathed a word to anyone?”

Her head hung slightly, and lines of pain formed around her eyes. “Your father and I were married for a very long time. There was a lot of history there. Maybe too much to throw away for an affair that began so long ago.”

“But that was still continuing, unless I understand wrong.”

He watched his mom’s throat move as she swallowed. “You’re not wrong. Reginald loved Angela.” It took visible effort for her gaze to meet his, and he fought the urge to take her in his arms again. Her rigid posture told him to keep his distance. “He loved me, too.” A wry smile tugged at her lips. “He was a man with a lot of love to give.”

“That’s one way of looking at it, though I’d like the opportunity to give him a piece of my mind.” He realized his hands were clenched into fists, and he released them. “I know you didn’t kill him.” He had to say it, because he had thought it for that split second after she announced a confession, and he needed to clear the air.

“Of course I didn’t, but the police and the courts don’t know that, and I don’t have an alibi for the time of the murder.”

“We need to find out who really did it. Do you have any suspicions?”

She shook her head. “Trust me, if I had even the slightest inkling, I’d tell everyone I know.”

RJ glanced around the grim room. “This place is a nightmare.” He remembered the bag he’d brought with him. “I brought you some books. Flannery O’Connor, William Faulkner. Lily said you’d want something more cheery, but I wasn’t so sure. They put them through the metal detector downstairs. Apparently razor-sharp wit doesn’t show up on the screen.”

She smiled, and peered into the offered paper bag. “RJ, you’re so thoughtful. And you’re right, I feel like reading about experiences darker than my own.” She sighed. “Hopefully I won’t have time to read them all.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“I’ve never flown in a small plane.” Brooke’s hands trembled as she buckled the seat belt in the Kincaid jet. “Couldn’t we drive there?” Her wide green eyes implored him.

A protective instinct surged inside RJ and he took hold of her hand. “It’s almost 150 miles away, near Gatlinburg, Tennessee. We’ll be fine.” Strange to see ever-capable Brooke looking worried. He squeezed her trembling fingers gently to reassure her. “At least we have a professional pilot today. My dad used to fly it himself sometimes and while he claimed military flying experience, I never saw any kind of license.”

“Scary!”

“Tell me about it. I even toyed with getting a license myself so I’d be able to take over in an emergency. One time we got caught in a wind shear coming out of the mountains, but Dad handled it like a pro.” His chest tightened as a wave of sadness swept through him. He still couldn’t believe that he’d never see his dad again. Never hear his chesty laugh or another tall tale about his days in Special Ops.

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“We’ll be fine.” He lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulder. Her soft floral scent filled his nostrils. Soon they’d be alone together in the mountains. The fresh air would lift the cares off both of their shoulders. He couldn’t wait to hear her infectious laugh echo off the wooded hillsides, or see the morning sun sparkle in her lovely eyes. And then there would be the nights … He’d instructed the caretaker to put the best fresh linen on the beds—he planned to offer her one for herself, then tempt her out of it. The prospect of Brooke’s lush body writhing under those sheets made his pulse quicken.

Yes, she was his assistant. Doubts did force their way to the forefront of his consciousness from time to time. Mixing business and pleasure was always risky, and in a family business it could be downright explosive. His father had warned all of them to keep their personal affairs out of the office and RJ had never had an affair with an employee before, despite considerable temptation over the years. Funnily enough he’d never seen Brooke in that way until their whiskey-flavored kiss in his office. She’d been his right-hand woman, his trusted friend, his rock—but their kiss had opened up a new world of possibilities.

Now he knew his assistant was a sensual woman, with passion flickering behind the jade of her eyes and excited breaths quickening in her lovely chest when he looked at her, the temptation was irresistible. He’d never have dreamed anything could take his mind off the hailstorm of disaster raining down on the Kincaid family over the last few months, but when he was with Brooke, all his burdens seemed lighter. It was such a relief to be with someone whom he could totally trust.

He heard Brooke’s breath catch as the plane lifted off the runway, but she soon relaxed as they rose high over the Charleston suburbs, heading toward the sunset and the distant shadow of the mountains. If only they could fly away from all his troubles and worries. Those were hitchhiking along, but with Brooke by his side they’d stay in check.

“How’s your mom doing?” Brooke’s soft question revealed her natural empathy.

“She’s hanging in there. She’s a brave woman and she doesn’t want us to worry. I visited her this afternoon and took her some books she wanted. I told her we’re doing everything we can to get her out. The police have been pretty closemouthed so I hired a private investigator to work full-time on the case, and he’s going to work with Nikki Thomas, our own corporate investigator. The lawyers are still trying to negotiate bail. They keep promising she’ll be released but it gets shot down at the last moment. Apparently someone saw her in the office that night. Hey, are you okay?”

Brooke’s face had turned so pale, even her lips lost color. “Sure, just a little queasy. I’ll be okay.”

He squeezed her hand. It was easy to dismiss your own problems, but you couldn’t always help the ones you cared about. Lately that made him feel powerless, an unfamiliar experience he hated. At least he could show Brooke a glorious and relaxing weekend in the country. She deserved the best of everything and he intended to give it to her.

Brooke gripped his hand tightly during their descent into the airport at Gatlinburg, then exhaled with relief as the plane taxied to a halt.

“See? You survived.”

“Only just. And my nails have probably left permanent scars on your hand.”

“I’ll wear them with pride.”

RJ was pleased to see the caretaker had dropped the familiar black Suburban off at the airport then discreetly disappeared. The first sign that his plans were going smoothly. He’d told the caretaker he didn’t need any staff on hand, as he suspected Brooke might be spooked by the presence of other people. Much better that they enjoy peace and privacy.

A now-familiar pang of grief hit him as he climbed behind the wheel. His dad usually drove, maintaining the familiar patterns of father-and-son even though RJ had been driving for nearly twenty years. “Dad loved it up here. He always said the whole world fell away if you got high enough up into the mountains.”

“It’s beautiful. The light is different here.” That light illuminated Brooke’s hair and her delicate profile as she looked out the window. For a split second he longed to press his lips to hers and lose himself in a kiss. Instead he started the engine.

“Dad wrote me a letter when he made his will.” He frowned. He’d never spoken to anyone else about it. “Said he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d live and he wanted to make sure the lodge would be mine.”