Beauty in Hiding Read online

Obviously, the police were keeping the information secret. But why?

  And weren’t murders public information? If so, how would they be able to keep a lid on the story?

  She’d counted on learning enough to figure out what had happened, who’d killed those men, why they’d been left for her to find, and who they’d worked for. If nothing else, she wanted to know if she was a suspect in their murders.

  Instead, she was left in the dark.

  After she dried off, brushed out her wet hair, and dressed, she returned to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and opened the Bible she’d picked up at Walmart. She wished she’d thought to grab the journal and Bible she kept in her nightstand at Red’s house. She’d been keeping a list of thoughts and questions, things to pray about, things to think about. God might not have spoken to her about the circumstances she’d face today, and God might not have given her the information about those two dead bodies, but He’d made her a lot of promises in this book, and she’d chosen to put her life in His hands. That meant she had to hold onto those promises. God knew she hadn’t murdered anybody and would never, ever hurt Gramps. God would vindicate her. She just hoped He’d do it before she landed back in prison.

  She’d finished her daily reading when Gramps pushed his walker down the hallway and settled in the chair across from her. “How about some coffee?”

  She poured him a cup, watching to see which of his personalities she’d have to deal with today. Happy would be ideal, grumpy she could handle, but confused… that would ruin everything. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  He sipped from his mug and set it down slowly. He looked up, met her eyes. She wasn’t sure how to interpret the look she saw there. “What are we doing here?”

  Crap. “Having breakfast. Eggs and toast, or…”

  He pointed his arthritic finger at her. “Not in the kitchen. In this house. Why are we here?”

  She still wasn’t sure which Gramps had graced her this morning, but at least he seemed lucid. The problem was, he didn’t remember the bodies and had no idea what Derrick had been up to. She wasn’t about to tell him. It was all so murky. If she told him what she did know, she had no idea how he’d react. But she couldn’t afford for him to demand to go home and straighten it out. He trusted law enforcement. She’d tried that once and paid dearly for her mistake. She wouldn’t let Gramps get pulled into that minefield.

  She sat and leaned across the table toward him. “Remember I told you we had to get away.”

  “I don’t remember why.”

  She’d told him an elaborate lie, which he’d bought because he trusted her. She took a deep breath, let the lie come back. “There are people after me, and I had to run. People from my old life. You remember, I told you about my old life.”

  “I remember.”

  “I couldn’t bear to be away from you, so you decided to come with me.”

  “Decided?” He narrowed his eyes, met her gaze, and held it. “Don’t remember being given a choice.”

  He’d been so out of it that night, he didn’t remember anything.

  “I’m sorry, Gramps.”

  “And that’s another thing. Why do you call me that?”

  “We decided it would be easier if everybody thought we were related. That way, if you have any health issues, people will naturally come to me.”

  “You’re my nurse. Surely you brought that paper that gives you authority over my healthcare, right? Of course they’d come to you.”

  “I brought it, but it’s so much simpler if everyone thinks we’re family. We are family, aren’t we?”

  He harrumphed. “You’re better than that grandson of mine. What did Derrick think of you taking me away?”

  She stood and pulled the bread from the drawer. “Oh, Derrick was okay with it. He knows how close you and I have become.”

  “And you two aren’t going to get back together?”

  “Definitely not.” She turned to meet Gramps’s eyes. “But that doesn’t change my relationship with you. You know that, right? You’re the only real family I’ve got, and I’ll do anything for you.”

  They held each other’s gazes for a long time. She worried he was seeing all the lies in her eyes, but after a moment, he nodded. “If this is what you need to do to be safe, then I’m with you.”

  She released a breath. “Thank you.”

  “Just wish I had a picture of my Bebe.”

  Of all the things to have forgotten. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Maybe Roger could mail us a copy. He’s got a key to the house, and he won’t tell anyone where we are.”

  “That’s an idea.” One she wouldn’t use.

  Red sipped his coffee. “I would like to talk to Derrick, though. Can we call him now?”

  She busied herself at the fridge, trying to avoid eye contact. “It’s awfully early.”

  “We gotta catch him off guard.”

  “Probably true.” She went to her bedroom, grabbed her phone, and returned to the kitchen, where she checked the service. Three bars. She shook her head sadly. “We don’t have service again. We’re going to have to get a better cell phone plan.”

  Gramps shook his head. “Not safe to be without a phone. Why don’t we call the phone company, get the kind that plugs into the wall instead of that thing?”

  “Good idea. I’ll make the call today.” And probably discover it was way too expensive, but if it got Gramps’s mind off Derrick…

  “We’ll try him later,” Gramps said. “And I’ll call Roger, too. Have him wire us some cash. I don’t understand why you think you have to get a job.”

  Gramps wanted to make calls. She hated to pray for memory loss, but he really needed to forget those ideas. She popped two pieces of toast in the toaster. “I don’t mind working.”

  “I guess you don’t want to spend all your days with a grouchy old man.”

  She turned again, shook her head. “Don’t say that about yourself. You’re not old.”

  When he got her joke, he laughed. “Ornery girl. Make me some eggs, would ya?”

  One crisis had been averted, thank You, God, but it was barely seven a.m. She prayed the rest of the day would go as well.

  With ten thousand things to remember, she’d never keep them all straight. Harper had thought studying to be a nurse was hard, but that had nothing on waitressing at McNeal’s.

  When she smiled at the cook, he only scowled at her. The middle-aged man had hardly said two words to her since she’d been there. Now, she set two orders on an oversize tray and headed for the dining room, stopping at the table in front of the windows. “Baked potato soup for you”—she slid the bowl in front of the pretty woman—“and a steak for you.”

  The man nodded.

  “Thanks so much.” The woman had a Southern accent with the manners to match. “You new here?”

  “My first day,” Harper said.

  “New in town, too?”

  “Just moved here.”

  “Welcome.” The woman’s smile was wide. “This town’ll make you feel like you’re home. Sure did me, anyway.”

  It had been so long since Harper felt at home, she didn’t know if she’d recognize the sensation. “So far, it’s been wonderful.”

  “Don’t let Bonnie give you any flack,” the man said with a wink. His accent was Southern, too, though not the same as his wife’s. More Texas and less twang. “That woman’s got all the charm of a rattlesnake.”

  “I heard that.”

  Harper jumped at Bonnie’s voice just inches behind her.

  “Don’t listen to Eric,” Bonnie said. “That man lies a like dog. I don’t know how Kelsey puts up with him.”

  Harper smiled at the couple and headed back to the kitchen. So far, the customers had been nice, patient with her when she’d made mistakes. And Bonnie was tough, no doubt, but also kind. A good teacher. Harper could do this job. Based on the tips she’d already collected, she might even be able to support herself and Gramps with it.
>
  Maybe.

  It was nearly two when Jack walked in and scanned the restaurant. She was about to head toward him, but he waved her off and crossed the dining room, where he sat across from a gorgeous brunette at one of Bonnie’s tables.

  Harper tried to shake off the sadness that settled on her shoulders. What in the world did she have to feel sad about? Jack was only a friend, and that was all he could ever be. Apparently, some foolish corner of her heart had hoped for more.

  She checked on her tables, refilled a few glasses, and returned to the kitchen for her last party’s food, all while trying to push away the image of Jack with the brunette.

  Wow, she was a fool. When would she learn not to give her heart away? Every single man she’d cared for had burned her, badly. One had landed her in prison. And Derrick? It was thanks to him she was in hiding. Yet the first guy who showed her a little kindness, and she was falling for him.

  Idiot.

  Idiot, idiot, idiot.

  “Whatcha doing, just standing there?”

  She jumped at her boss’s voice. “Making sure I didn’t forget anything.”

  “You’re doing a good job. Get those meals delivered, and you might even get out of here on time.”

  Harper returned to the dining room. She served the meals, ran a credit card for a party of four, and was giving the check to another table when she glanced at Jack. He waved her over.

  She pasted on a smile and joined him. “Good to see you,” she said.

  “Harper, I’d like you to meet my real estate agent, Ginny Lamont.”

  Harper turned to the woman. Yup, she was gorgeous. Dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, wide smile. She held out her hand. “You’re the new tenant?”

  Harper shook her hand. “Just moved here.”

  “Welcome.”

  Jack said, “I saw Red this morning, and he seemed to be having a good time. Steve’s there, of course.”

  “That’s good news,” Harper said. “I’ve been worried. Did you have more work to do there?”

  “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d check on him.”

  Jack had done that just because? What was with this guy?

  “I was hoping to grill him about his real estate business,” Jack continued. “Ginny’s looking for more rentals for me, but Red suggested something else yesterday, and I hoped I’d get more information.”

  “I’m sure he gave you an earful,” she said.

  “Nope. He was too engrossed in his poker game.”

  “Please tell me he wasn’t gambling.”

  “Just pennies, which somebody else supplied. I thought maybe you’d let me bring you guys dinner tonight.”

  Harper couldn’t help the way her gaze darted to Ginny. The woman’s smile was still there, tight as a fitted sheet over her gritted teeth. Harper glanced back at Jack, who seemed utterly clueless.

  Maybe he didn’t care.

  Or maybe he liked making her jealous.

  “Red said it was fine,” Jack said, “but I figured I’d better tell you so you don’t fix something. You’ll be exhausted after your day.”

  “Uh…”

  “I’ll be there about five with lasagna. Your grandfather says it’s his favorite.”

  “It is, but—”

  “Excuse me.” A customer from another table was waving her over.

  Harper just nodded and turned away. She had to focus on work right now. Later, she’d worry about Jack and his suspicious kindness… and Ms. Realtor’s angry eyes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Derrick leaned against a wall in his old friend’s shabby office. The furniture was generic, the beige walls bare, the carpet one step up from indoor-outdoor and stained in multiple places. The room smelled like stale cigarette smoke along with the bathroom odors from the hall right outside the door.

  To say this wasn’t the best part of Baltimore would be an understatement. This guy was way outside the circles Derrick usually traveled in. The other businesses in this building included an attorney who specialized in DUI cases, a bail bondsman, and a woman who read tarot cards.

  “Seriously,” Tank said. “Could you sit? I’m trying to work.” Tim Tank Anker eyed him from the faux-leather chair behind his worn desk, which was piled high with files and papers and pens and who knew what else. He grabbed his head with his sausage-link fingers, turned it to the side, and cracked his thick neck. Apparently, being a professional private investigator hadn’t changed the man too much.

  “Check again,” Derrick said. “See if he’s paid.”

  Tank blew out a loud breath. “When I get an email, it dings. You hear a ding?”

  “Just check.”

  Tank clicked, looked at his screen. “Nothing. Just let me call you when it comes in.”

  Derrick wasn’t leaving Tank until he had the money. He couldn’t. He’d called the night before and explained what he needed. After a long and tense discussion, Tank had sent the invoice to Roger, but by the time he had, Roger had left the office for the day.

  Last night at his condo, Derrick had gotten a visit from two of Quentin’s goons. Not Keith and his sadistic buddy, which surprised him, but two new guys. They’d given him twenty-four hours to produce “a substantial portion” of what Derrick owed him.

  With his checking account having dwindled to pennies, he didn’t have enough to pay his electric bill, much less a substantial portion of two hundred thousand dollars.

  He was in deep trouble this time. He’d called in to work that morning, feigning the flu, so he could find Harper and his grandfather. His boss, a man who saw everything in the same shade of green as a dollar bill, hadn’t been pleased. Join the club. Derrick couldn’t afford to be away and didn’t want to think about all the money he was losing by handing his clients off to another broker. What was that expression? The tyranny of the urgent? In this case, it was the tyranny of the tyrants. If Derrick didn’t get his hands on some cash, fast, he would lose everything—including his life.

  So here he was, first thing Thursday morning. Who cared that the office was shabby? With Tank he was safe. There weren’t a lot of guys willing to take on a man like him. This wasn’t college anymore, and Tank wasn’t the starting fullback on the football team. And sure, what once had been nothing but muscles born of steroids and hours in the gym was now shrouded in fat and encased in an oversize suit and tie. Still, only a half-wit would take Tank on.

  And the guys watching Derrick weren’t half-wits.

  “I’ll wait.”

  Tank stood and grabbed a Mr. Pibb from the mini-fridge behind his desk. “Want one?”

  “You still drink that swill?”

  “You used to love it.”

  “I’m not in college anymore.”

  Tank popped the top, downed half the soda, and set it on his desk. “When did you get to be such a snob?”

  Derrick ignored the question. He and Tank had gone their separate ways after their senior year. After the incident they never talked about.

  He leaned against the wall and pulled out his cell, then navigated to his email and answered the latest ones.

  Tank lowered himself into his chair, which responded to his weight with a high-pitched gasp. He pointed to the chair across from his desk. “If you’re gonna stay in here, you gotta sit. You’re making me nuts.”

  Derrick swallowed his retort, slid his phone back into his jacket pocket, and sat.

  Tank steepled his fat fingers. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “My grandfather’s missing. His nurse took him.”

  “That much you said, and so did that lawyer when we talked this morning. Any ideas where they might be?”

  So Roger had called Tank to check on Derrick’s story. He shouldn’t have been surprised. “I have a couple.”

  “But you don’t want me to find them.”

  “I can find them. I just need cash.”

  Tank looked at his computer screen. When he trained his gaze on Derrick again, his eyes were narrowed. “
Lotta cash.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  Tank leaned back, sat straighter. “Heck it isn’t. You call me demanding I make like your PI to funnel cash to you—that makes it my business. And if you really wanna find them, just let me do my job. I’m good at it.”

  Derrick made a show of looking around the shabby office. “I can see how successful you’ve been.”

  Tank dropped his hands to the desk and pressed. His knuckles turned white.

  Derrick swallowed hard as he leaned against the back of his chair. He’d seen Tank lose his temper before, and he didn’t need to be on the receiving end of that. He started to backpedal, but Tank spoke first.

  “Don’t jump to a bunch of conclusions, old friend.” He took a deep breath, and, surprisingly, seemed to rein in his temper. Tank must have picked up a new skill in the years since college. “I like my office. The rent is cheap, and unlike you, I’m not trying to impress anybody. I don’t need to. You know why? ’Cause I’m good at what I do. I got a wife now and two kids. So my money goes to support them, not to impress stuck-up suits.”

  “Okay, okay.” Derrick lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, this isn’t the most impressive place to entertain clients.”

  “I don’t meet my clients here. I either go to them or meet ’em at the coffee shop on the corner. You’re the one who insisted we meet here, remember?”

  Derrick had needed privacy, and to be away from his normal routine. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. It’s been stressful with my grandfather missing.”

  Tank didn’t look a bit moved. “I can find him faster than you can.”

  Derrick didn’t know if that was true, and he wasn’t about to find out. He didn’t want anyone to find them before he did. Not PIs, not lawyers, and not cops. He’d called them in a panic, but he’d been relieved to learn they wouldn’t search for Gramps. Better if they stayed far away.

  If only Harper had just kept feeding Gramps the Gatorade. Gramps would be out of his misery, reunited with Gram, and Derrick would have the money he needed. Then, if Harper had been lucky, Derrick might have taken her back, given her a second chance. But after this stunt, no way.