Page 79 of Secrets Along the Shore (Beach Read Thrillers #1)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

I lose track of time trying to catch up on work at my office, and don’t even notice until it’s nearly five.

I’m due to meet James at his father’s house for dinner at five-thirty, something we do every couple of weeks.

I race out the door without shutting anything off, hoping I’ve left in time to beat the snail’s-pace five o’clock traffic.

I haven’t.

Tonight, I’m going to take Edward up on his offer to help.

He has contacts spread all over the county and knows everything going on in it.

If someone is legitimately planning to build a spa resort that will bring in tax revenue to the local government, Edward will likely know about it.

Frank Donner may not be willing to give me the name of his client, but maybe I’ll get lucky and my future father-in-law can tell me.

The Calder family home—in their family since the early 1900s—sits on the northeast end of uptown Riverview.

The two-story red brick mansion with federal columns and a stately porch has been added on to in multiple projects over the years, so the modern-day version is three times the size of the original.

The pink azaleas along the front still have their blooms thanks to the cooler climate at this altitude, and pools of abundant red and white petunias fill the mulched beds.

I circle the roundabout in the front, then continue down the left to the side porch. I find it easier to come in this way, and it keeps Valentina, his full-time housekeeper-slash-cook, from having to answer the door. Also, as Edward put it, “You’re family and family doesn’t use the front entrance.”

No one answers my knock. After a few minutes, I use the key he gave me and enter the kitchen, my stomach sighing at the aroma of homemade biscuits enveloping me.

The chicken salad sandwich I grabbed earlier for lunch is long gone.

Valentina is nowhere to be seen, but there is coffee brewing, which means she’s around somewhere.

I pour myself a cup, add the creamer they keep around for me, and move farther into the house to find Edward.

James should be arriving soon, but if I can talk to Edward before dinner, we can avoid bringing up work while we eat.

Edward’s office is on the second floor, toward the back of the house.

I think it used to be a bedroom, but he chose to convert it at some point, claiming it has the best view of the river the house offers.

Crossing over rich red Persian rugs covering the century-old plank flooring, I climb the stairs—wide steps with another red rug held down by brass rods and a hefty, white handrail.

At the landing I head for his office at the end of the hall, which takes me past the series of framed photos of James and Matthew cataloging their childhood.

I’m just about to call out for Edward when his voice thunders through the space.

“I do understand! I just don’t understand how this happened. You were supposed to handle it without it coming back on him!”

I freeze. I’ve heard Edward upset before, but never like this. Never so…unforgiving. Instinct pushes me against the wall, and I step softly in his direction.

“…Well, keep it that way, Donner. You hear me? That’s what you were hired for, so do your job.

” Edward pauses for several seconds. “I don’t care what she said.

James is on the verge of being elected to federal office.

The fact that they found that woman is not going to destroy his future.

I will not let one mistake ruin his chances. ”

The blood in my body has turned to frozen slush in my veins. My heart rebels, skipping a beat, then launching back into action with a kick against my chest like an angry thoroughbred. Lightheadedness swamps me as my ears roar .

Donner.

“James is on the verge of being elected to federal office.”

“The fact that they found that woman is not going to destroy his future.”

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Hold her off, Donner. I will not have this blow back on him. Give her nothing.”

I’m focusing so hard on holding myself up on legs threatening to crumble, moments pass before I realize Edward is no longer talking. Panic shoots through me as I push off the wall and retreat down the stairs as quietly as I can, praying Edward hasn’t seen or heard me.

And that my body won’t give out before I get where I’m going.

I’m in the kitchen clutching my cup of coffee, swigging like it’s Gatorade and I just finished a 5K—pretty stupid, given it’s sending my already soaring adrenaline levels to blackout-level heights, but I have to do something.

I have to move and act because the second I stop, I’ll have to process what I just heard.

Valentina is still AWOL. My mind goes to the oven and I wonder whether she’s checked it. I wouldn’t want dinner to burn…

Stop it. Focus.

I chug more coffee, swallowing it and my fear down, and think. There has to be a simple explanation. Something has to make it make sense.

Before I can think of anything, Valentina finally returns from wherever she’s been, her eyes flying wide when she spots me.

“Sophie! How are you?” she says, not breaking her stride as she wraps two ample arms around my shoulders. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Um, yeah, I just got here,” I say, then realize the partially full cup in my hand suggests otherwise. “A couple of minutes ago.”

“You are in for a treat,” she says. “Mr. Calder asked for chicken and dumplings.”

A voice sounds from behind me. “I did that especially for you.”

Edward is standing in the doorway to the hall, beaming like a kid who talked his parents into a new PlayStation. “For my lovely future daughter-in-law,” he says, winking, then crossing the space between us to hug me. “And for me, too,” he whispers before pulling back.

Everything in Edward’s countenance says nothing is amiss. That he didn’t see or hear me upstairs, and has no idea I just heard him tell a lawyer to run interference so I don’t learn he was trying to buy the property where Kamden Avery’s body was found.

The problem is, nothing in Edward’s countenance, demeanor, or voice has ever suggested he knows more than he’s letting on regarding Kamden Avery or any aspect of this case. He’s only shown me what he wants me to see.

I’ve never truly understood who this man is or what he’s capable of.

This terrifying realization sends an arctic chill deep into my bones.

It’s almost as terrifying as the fact that, by his own admission, Edward’s motivation for doing whatever he’s done is to keep Kamden Avery’s murder from ruining James’s bid for office.

James. His son. My fiancé.

I can only think of a few reasons why the discovery of Kamden Avery’s body would impact James’s political aspirations—and each one is worse than the last.

The air in the room is heavier than normal as Edward, James, Matthew, their cousin Chandler, and I sit around the table for ten in the imposing dining room.

We’re in our regular spots—although Chandler doesn’t have a regular spot, as such.

Chandler and other family members show up for dinner from time to time, often unannounced.

Why he had to pick tonight of all nights…

But maybe that’s good. Chandler doesn’t talk much and is a bit awkward.

Maybe any weirdness Edward picks up on, he’ll attribute to Chandler being there.

We dine on chicken and dumplings, biscuits with honey, slaw and green beans, and talk about our work and local sports and the house fire two blocks away a couple of nights ago. I manage to speak, to make sense. On the outside, I pretend. Put on a solid show.

On the inside, I’m an emotional zombie. My brain’s a television with snow on the screen and a constant drone of static, because I’m in shock. My father-in-law may somehow be connected to the death of Kamden Avery…or worse…my fiancé is.

There has to be an explanation.

There has to be.

“…Right, Soph?”

I blink and stare at James, sitting on my left, looking perfectly wonderful as always.

The others are looking at me too, except for Chandler, who as usual is on his phone.

My thoughts feel like a betrayal, but I don’t know how to make this train jump tracks.

Apparently, he’s been talking to me, but I haven’t heard a word he’s said since… well, I don’t know for how long.

“Sorry, I was lost in my head for a second. What was that again?”

“You told me you don’t want a big wedding, right? Small affair?”

My heart plummets. I can’t think about a wedding—our wedding—right now. Not with what I just heard upstairs. For the first time, I don’t get warm fuzzies at the mention of the topic. Instead, a shiver travels down my back. “Um, yeah. Small is better.”

Edward lauds the benefits of a small wedding, while Matthew chimes in that James’s bank account will be happy about it. They all laugh, and I phone in a forced chuckle.

“Any woman I marry is going to have to be okay with a small wedding,” Chandler says, before taking a sip of his pinot noir. “I’m not interested in being on display.”

I need to steer the conversation away from weddings before I lose it.

Okay, Walsh. Come on, girl. Put on your deerstalker and make this work for you.

“Edward,” I say, “I wanted to ask you something about the case I’m investigating. The murder of the woman found this past weekend, Kamden Avery?”

Edward straightens up, but doesn’t look the least bit uncomfortable.

He looks eager. “Do I finally get to help you?”

“Wow. Be careful, Soph. That’s a double-edged sword he’s swinging,” Matthew says and laughs. “If you let Edward Calder into your business?—”

Edward shoots Matthew a quick “You, hush.”

Matthew rolls his eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

My heart picks up speed as I steel myself to push the next words out.

Here we go.

“I was talking to Richard Taybolt, the owner of the land where her body was found. He said a Huntsville attorney, Frank Donner, approached him about selling it. Donner told him he had a buyer willing to pay up to a million-five. Wouldn’t say who it is and I need to find out.

According to Taybolt, the buyer wanted the land for a spa retreat they were going to build.

You’ve got your finger on the pulse of everything that happens in the area.

I was wondering if you’d heard about a project like that? ”

Edward frowns, sucking in a cheek. “I don’t think so.

There was talk of a hotel a while back, some kind of budget place right off 174, but it fell through.

I haven’t heard anything about a spa.” He suddenly looks quizzical and holds up a finger.

“You know what, I do remember getting wind of someone from Birmingham—a shady business, I think—looking at buying property up here, but there was some concern about the source. Who told me that?” He raises his gaze to the ceiling as if the answer is written on it.

After a few beats, he shakes his head. “No, I don’t remember. James?”

James shakes his head. “I haven’t heard anything. I can ask around, though.” If James is experiencing any anxiety over this subject matter, I don’t detect it.

I wish that made me feel better. As it is, I don’t think the chicken and dumplings are going to stay down for long.

I do my best to offer a genuine smile to James. “Thanks, that would be great,” I say, hoping I sound appreciative and not like I’m imagining him strangling Kamden Avery.

I turn my attention back to Edward and absorb every line and curve of his countenance, ready to register any change as I say the next bit.

“If you could ask around, and Matthew, maybe Chandler too”—I include everyone, not wanting Edward to realize I’m focusing on him—“ it would be really helpful, since obviously I can’t get a warrant requiring Donner to tell me who his client is, and your grapevine might be the only way to ferret it out.

I’ve asked my contacts, and no one had a clue.

” The last part isn’t true, but I need him to think it is.

If Edward feels any relief at my admission that I’ve hit a wall in my efforts to identify the would-be purchaser of Taybolt’s property, it doesn’t show.

But that doesn’t mean anything.

I know now that he’s very, very good at hiding things.