Maybe she had a little extra time…
A particularly loud thump from the back room made her start. After a momentary internal debate, she rose and moved that way, half expecting to find pieces of ceiling scattered across the floor of the bedroom.
Casey glanced around when she stopped in the doorway. The old ceiling fan sat on the floor at his feet, entirely in one piece as far as she could tell. Wires dangled from the fixture in the ceiling, but it seemed that everything was under control.
“Sorry,” he said. “I set it down a bit more heavily than I intended. I hope I didn’t distract you from anything important.”
Oh, he distracted her, all right. She just didn’t think it was a good idea to let him know that. “No, I was just checking to see if you need any assistance. Maybe I could help you hold the new fan while you install it?”
“Actually, Kyle showed me how to balance it while I connect everything. It’s just a small, fairly lightweight fan. But thanks for the offer.”
She nodded. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me for anything.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Back at the kitchen table, she stared again at the long list of names on her computer monitor. During the past thirty-six hours, she had shortened the list of suspects. By two names. Both of whom were dead. And she’d gotten to the point that she wasn’t even entirely sure of their innocence. She hoped Beecham would call her today. If not, she was going to try to reach him and ask if he’d made any further progress with his investigation. She was certainly making no headway with her own.
Disgusted with herself, with the entire situation, she pushed the computer away with a low growl. A beeping sound made her pull it back again.
Hey, Nat. U there?
The instant message had popped up on her screen from a sender whose screen name was “GlitRChik” and whose avatar was a slightly crazed-looking fairy.
I’m here, Natalie typed back. What’s up?
Been doing some snooping.
Natalie replied quickly, Call me on my cell, Amber. Don’t put anything in writing.
Sorry
A moment later, Natalie’s cell phone chimed. She lifted it to her ear with only a perfunctory glance at the ID screen. “Hello.”
“Hi, Nat.”
“Don’t write anything down,” Natalie repeated firmly. “Especially on your computer. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I think I have some reason to be concerned.”
“I know you do,” Amber Keller, Natalie’s former assistant, sympathized. “I didn’t think about IMs leaving a paper trail.”
“They do. As I said, I’m probably being overly cautious, but still…what have you learned?”
“Not a lot,” her friend and former subordinate confessed. “Just one sort of interesting tidbit.”
“Which is?” Natalie prodded, even as a series of thumps sounded from the bedroom, making it hard to concentrate.
“Hang on a sec.” She stood and moved toward the kitchen doorway, thinking she would hear better if she went outside to the big wooden deck attached to the back of the vacation cabin. Closing the door behind her, she let a brisk, late-autumn breeze toss her hair as she sank into a green-painted Adirondack chair. “Okay. Now. What interesting tidbit?”
“Cathy Linski just bought a new car. A pretty fancy one. Convertible.”
Frowning, Natalie asked, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What does that have to do with me?”
“Well, a month ago, Cathy was whining about not having any money and being on the brink of bankruptcy. Now all of a sudden she’s spending money like crazy. When someone asked her what’s going on, she just laughed and said she came into a windfall and she’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Oh. That is interesting,” Natalie murmured, following Amber’s line of thought. She wondered if Beecham knew about this development.
“Yeah. It’s not much to report—might have nothing at all to do with your situation—but I thought you’d want to know.”
“That’s all you have?”
“I’m afraid so. Everyone’s been pretty closemouthed around here for the past couple of weeks. Nobody mentions you at all.”
Natalie bit her lower lip, then released it with a slight sigh. “Okay. Thanks, Amber. Let me know if you hear anything else, okay?”
“You got it. I’d better get back to work. Steve’s not nearly as tolerant as you were about personal time during the workday.”
“Don’t risk your job because of me. You can always call me when you get home. It’s not like I’m doing anything else in the evenings.”
“You want my advice? Try to have a little fun while you’re there in the mountains. You’ve been working too hard for a couple of years. This is your first time off work in, like, forever. Surely there’s some interesting guy there who can help you work off some frustration, if you know what I mean.”
Natalie didn’t have to ask for clarification. Amber thought there were few problems that couldn’t be alleviated by a night of partying. A hard worker during the week, she was an equally zealous fun-seeker during the weekends. She’d nagged Natalie for months to join her at some of the wilder Nashville clubs on a Friday or Saturday night, promising a “hot time” that would make all the tension knots in her neck and shoulders mysteriously disappear. Amber couldn’t understand why Natalie had been at all hesitant to accept.
At the time, Natalie had been worried about damaging her image as a serious, hardworking, ambitious attorney. Little had she known then that her reputation would soon take a much harder hit than if she’d merely been seen partying in a few clubs.
As for “some interesting guy”…she glanced toward the back door of the cabin, thinking of Casey, and knowing exactly how Amber would react if she could see him. She’d be all over the sexy maintenance man like “white on rice,” as Aunt Jewel would say, and she’d think Natalie was crazy for not at least trying to flirt with the guy. But then, Amber wasn’t in the process of fighting for her professional life, either.
“You’d better get back to work,” she said, deciding not to address her friend’s advice. “Thanks for calling.”
“You bet. We’re going to figure out who set you up this way, Nat,” Amber said loyally. “And when we do, everybody’s going to know about it. I’ll make sure of that.”
As she disconnected the call, Natalie wished there was some way she could let Amber know how much that support meant to her. So many of the people she had considered friends had dropped her like a hot potato after she was summarily fired from her position with the firm. They had been all too willing to believe she’d let greed trump ethics and had engaged in behavior that they should have realized was utterly foreign to her.
Unable to appreciate the nice weather or the beautiful scenery surrounding her, she closed her cell phone. Her lips felt dry and she realized she was thirsty. She’d stocked the fridge with her favorite bottled water. Rising, she moved toward the door, wondering idly if Casey had finished installing the fan yet.
He was standing at the sink when she entered the kitchen. Though his back was turned to her, he seemed to be fumbling with the roll of paper towels on the counter.
“Can