VEILED MIRROR Page 6

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. I never brought home less than an ‘A’ after that.”

  The fire popped. Beth held out her hands to the heat. “Oh, that feels good.”

  There was a noise behind them and they both looked around. Ollie, Chris’s dog, pushed the door open and padded into the room. “When did you learn to open doors, boy?” Beth ruffled his black and white ears, then gave him a hand signal. He lay down on the rug in front of her chair with a contented sigh.

  “That never did latch right.” Jason looked at the door that was now ajar and thought about closing it again for privacy, but what good would that do with Beth curled up in the chair? A blare of music changed his mind and he got up to shut the door. “What about you?” He asked as he sat back down. “I’ll bet you loved school.”

  “Not really. We moved too much. We went to twelve different schools in six years.”

  “After your mom died.”

  Beth cast him a surprised glance.

  “Chris told me a little. He said your dad never got over it.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” Then her expression softened. “Dad did the best he could, but he pretty much left me and Ell to ourselves. You probably know all about that.”

  “No. Chris didn’t go into detail.”

  Beth hesitated, clearly deciding how much to tell him. He held his breath. It came to him suddenly that he really wanted her to trust him with her story. He wanted to know who she was, and why.

  “Mom died in a car wreck when we were eleven. Ell and I were at school. When they called me to the principal’s office and I saw Dad standing there with his face all stiff, I knew something horrible had happened. All the clichés are true. The bottom dropped out, the world stopped turning, I knew my life was never going to be the same.”

  “I’m sorry.” It was fifteen years too late, but it was all he could of think to say.

  “It was so sudden.” She grimaced and glanced at him. “As car accidents usually are.” Her gaze slid back to the fire. “None of us knew what hit us. I couldn’t remember if I’d kissed her goodbye that morning. Ell was upset because she’d been complaining that Mom hadn’t washed her lucky shirt, and Dad …” She paused as if she didn’t often talk about this, took a swallow of beer, then went on. “Dad didn’t handle it well. He refused to have a service for her. Two weeks after she died, he went to a psychic. He wanted to say goodbye. As you might suspect, he was disappointed.”

  Jason nodded but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to stop the flow of words.

  “He kept finding mediums that promised him what he wanted. At first we went with him, but after a while Ell and I couldn’t take it anymore. Sometimes they’d say something that sounded like it could have come from Mom, and for a moment we’d feel a little like we had her back with us, but then they’d always screw it up, and we’d feel the loss all over again: Mom was gone. It was like ripping a scab off over and over again. But Dad kept on hoping. He must have gone to every psychic in Colorado, Nevada, and California. We lived like gypsies and every spare dime went to pay those people. Some of them were better than others, but they were all fakes.”

  A long buried anger flared and Jason gripped his bottle so tight his knuckles turned white. “There’s no shortage of those bastards, is there?”

  Beth looked at him, startled.

  “My mom got taken too. Not by psychics, but they were the same kind of scumbags. They played on her dreams too.”

  “What happened?”

  He hadn’t meant to reveal so much. It wasn’t something he usually discussed. He didn’t like to think too much about the mistake his mom had made, but what had happened to his mother had happened to him as well. And Beth’s story had rekindled that old impotent fury. He had a feeling Beth would understand.

  “She wanted us to have a place of our own. It wasn’t enough for us to live in an apartment. ‘We’ll never get ahead paying rent,’ she’d say. She worked her ass off, saving a down payment. Then one day she saw an ad for a new condo that was going to be built in a great part of town. The people who qualified and put down a deposit before they broke ground would get a special low price, and they’d be eligible for a prorated portion of the income from the units put aside for rent.

  “It was perfect. A place of our own at a low price and a source of income. She wouldn’t have to work two jobs anymore. And even though my mom didn’t have the full down payment, the salesman liked her, he said, and made a special arrangement for her to make up the difference over the next six months. We ate beans five nights a week so she could get in on the ground floor of this unbelievable opportunity. We picked out a floor plan and Mom talked for hours about how we’d decorate our new home.” He stared at the bottle, turning it around and around on the arm of the sofa.

  “Five months later the state attorney general called and asked if my mom would like to testify against the developer at a grand jury. That slimeball had stolen nearly a million dollars from over a hundred people like us. There was no condo, no money for restitution, no assets to be sold, nothing. The entire set-up was a scam and that bastard had spent every cent.”

  “Oh no!”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Did your mom ever get her own place?”

  Jason nodded. “It took her five more years to save up another down payment, and then all we could afford was an old fixer-upper. That’s how I learned to use a hammer and a saw, and to measure twice and cut once. It was a dump, but it was ours.”

  “Oh good.” She leaned back in the chair. “Roots are important.”

  Jason nodded again, understanding what Beth had left unsaid. She and Ell had been rootless during their teen years.

  “And you had each other.” Beth added.

  Jason smiled. His story did have a happy ending. “Yeah. We did.”

  “Like me and Ell. We pretty much finished raising each other.”

  Jason hid the anger he felt for a father that had left his young daughters to cope with their grief alone. “You did a pretty good job. You both turned out all right.”

  Beth smiled but rolled her eyes before sipping her beer.

  “Hey, you’re not dead or in jail. That qualifies as some kind of success.”

  Beth laughed, and he grinned back at her.

  “And you put yourself through college,” he added.

  “Yes, I did.” For the first time, Beth sounded proud. “Mom wanted that for us. She made me want it for myself.”

  “Our moms had something in common then.” He had paused, not sure if he should ask. “It sounds like you were close.”

  “Yeah, we were. She died before we got to that snotty ‘you can’t tell me anything’ age.” Beth had cast a wry glance at him. “It sounds like your mom had a cure for that, though.”

  Jason had laughed. “Yeah, but she had to dose me with it regularly.”

  Jason pushed the memory of that conversation away as he changed lanes to pass a semi. His mother would have liked Beth. Now they’d never have a chance to meet.

  He should have thought of that before he’d called it quits. So what if it was long distance? So what if his hours sucked? Maybe he should have taken a chance. Maybe he should have let Beth decide if she could handle it. But for what? So he could have had the comfort of her worrying over him in the hospital? Was he really that selfish?

  Jason swallowed past the tightness in his throat. It didn’t matter. Beth was dead. There was no point wondering now if they could have made a go of it.

  MARIA HUNG UP THE phone. “Señor Blackforth is coming. He is on his way.”

  Beth hated the way her pulse picked up. Jason is coming? The guy had dumped her. He wasn’t interested. She told her heart to stop fluttering. Whatever foolish feelings she might still have for Jason Blackforth had to be buried. He was coming to comfort Ellie. Ellie, the grieving widow of his best friend.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ellie.” Jason walked into the foyer along with a hot rush of humid air, d
ropped his bag, and enveloped Beth gingerly in a hug. “Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?”

  How many times in those first few weeks after he’d dumped her had she revisited what it felt like to have his arms around her? Remembered his lips on hers in a kiss that curled her toes? Remembered where that kiss had led? How many times had she ruthlessly suppressed those memories? But the peck he dropped on her cheek was nothing like that.

  “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is.”

  “I hope so.” He paused, then he turned and hugged Maria. “How are you holding up?”

  Maria hugged him back. “Not so bad.”

  He turned back to Beth. “I’m so sorry about Chris. About both of them.” His hand lingered on her shoulder.

  She stepped away. It almost hurt to be touched like that when she wanted it to be so different. “Thank you. I know this is hard for you, too. You knew Chris longer than I did.” That’s an understatement. She refused to look at Maria, who stood by with watchful eyes.

  Jason nodded. “Chris didn’t get close to a lot of people, but when he let you in, you were in all the way. It’s not easy to lose a friend like that. I think you’re probably the only person who understands. You and Maria.”

  Beth grimaced and looked away. This was too hard, faking grief for someone she’d barely known, to people who were really grieving. She’d liked Chris, but she hadn’t had time to know him well. Jason’s words made her all too aware of what she might have had with her brother-in-law, given time. But she did understand how Jason felt. Ellie had been her best friend, and her grief for her sister was real enough.

  “I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about it. It’s too soon. Especially now, with your sister …”

  “No, it’s okay.” If he needed to talk, she wanted to give him that. “I have to face it. But maybe you’d like to get settled first?”

  “Sí. I will show you to your room.” Maria picked up Jason’s bag, but he took it from her hand, then followed her down the hallway.

  Beth took refuge in the library. She felt safe in this room. It was solid and permanent and warm, and filled with books that offered adventure and escape. Growing up, her schooling had been spotty, but she’d always been able to take refuge in the stacks of the local library, wherever their dad had dragged them. It had been the one thing she could always count on, besides Ellie.

  She sat down at the chess board. It was a beautiful antique set with an inlaid wood table and brass and silver figures. The silver king was lying on his side. She set it upright again. Chris and Ellie must have been in the middle of a game. He’d taught her sister how to play shortly after they’d met and she’d surprised him with her intuitive grasp of the strategy. Beth didn’t know a rook from a bishop. She looked at the scattered pieces and wondered who had been winning. From the large number of silver men beside the board, she guessed brass was.

  “Black will mate in three unless you sacrifice your queen.”

  Beth startled. Jason had come in without her noticing. “My queen?”

  “Black’s rook will take your pawn, threatening your king. You’ll have to move him, but that will put him under black’s knight if you move here, or his bishop if you move there,” he said pointing. “But if you move your queen here, the rook will take her, giving you a chance to move your bishop into position to take the—no, wait. Even if you sacrifice the queen it’s still mate in five.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about. “Of course.”

  He looked at her, eyes narrowed. “You were black, weren’t you? Chris said you were good.”

  She just smiled and tipped the silver king on his side again, understanding now why he’d been that way.

  “Would you like to play?” he asked. “Not that I’d stand a chance, if you can beat Chris.”

  Beth shook her head. She’d give herself away with the first move. “No. I … I don’t have the concentration for it right now.”

  Jason nodded and went to stand before the dark fireplace.

  The light was fading as the evening storm clouds rolled in. She ought to get up and turn on the lamps, but she stayed where she was, listening to the thunder rumbling in the distance.

  An awkward uncertainty filled her, spilling out and blanketing the room with silence. What could she say that wouldn’t give her away? She had to think like Ellie. This was her house. She was the hostess here. “Would you like a drink?” Then she bit her tongue. That was the same thing she’d said just before they’d made love.

  Apparently Jason didn’t remember. His expression was completely neutral as he looked over at her. She gestured to the decanter on the shelf. “Or maybe you’d like a beer?”

  “Beer would be good.”

  She stood up but Jason said, “I’ll get it,” and disappeared out the door.

  Beth paced around the room. She couldn’t do this. There were a million things she wanted to ask to Jason, but she could voice none of them. Why did you really break it off? Why did you make love to me when you knew you were going to dump me? But those weren’t things that Ellie would say.

  He was gone longer than she expected. He was probably talking to Maria. What was she saying to him? Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she’s telling him I’m a fraud. Maybe he’s calling the sheriff. Beth remembered how forcefully Jason had talked about the con-artists who had scammed his mom. How could she make him understand that she was doing this for Ellie? He’d never believe this was what her sister wanted.

  Jason returned with Ollie following, a slight smile on his face. He handed her a glass of milk. “Maria told me. Congratulations.”

  She took the glass and set it down without drinking.

  “Yes. Well, thanks.” She forced a smile.

  “I know it’s hard to be happy about it now, but when the baby gets here you’ll be glad.” He rolled his eyes. “At least that’s what I hear.”

  “Do you spend lots of time talking about babies?” Beth gave him an amused look from under her lifted brows.

  “No. But with three women in my office I hear things.” He shrugged.

  This was a side of Jason she hadn’t suspected. She nodded and said, “Yeah, yeah. So which do you think is better, cloth or disposable diapers?”

  Jason grinned at the ribbing and sipped his beer. “Maria said dinner would be ready in an hour. Pot roast and mashed potatoes. It smells great, too.”

  Beth nodded “Comfort food.” Ollie jumped up on the couch in Chris’s spot.

  “Down,” she said giving him the hand signal. “You know you’re not allowed on the couch.”

  Ollie just looked up at her.

  She snapped her fingers and repeated the signal. The black and white dog sulkily clambered off the couch.

  “Good boy, Ollie.” Beth patted him on the side. He leaned against her and wagged his tail.

  “So Beth’s got you doing that too, now.”

  A zing of trepidation pricked her. “What?”

  “Using hand signals. You didn’t used to do that. Of course, Ollie never obeyed you either. For that matter, he only listened to Chris when he wanted to.”

  Another mistake. Ellie could get a horse to turn somersaults for her but she’d never really understood dogs. “Oh. Well, I guess none of us are quite ourselves these days.”

  JASON STARED AT ELLIE, sitting on the sofa in the fading light with Ollie at her feet, then glanced away. Even covered with scratches and bruises, even with her hair cut short, the resemblance to Beth was unnerving. He looked back again, searching for the differences he knew must be there.

  “It means a lot that you came all the way out here, but …”

  “Why am I here?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. But I don’t even know yet when the service will be.”

  She looked so small sitting with her feet tucked up underneath her. Just like Beth. She was trying so hard to be strong, even with her double loss, even though she was all alone now. He didn’t want her to feel alone. “I
can help you with stuff like that. I want to. And even though I’m not Chris’s lawyer, I thought I might help you navigate the ins and outs of the trust. If nothing else, you can have me fill out paperwork, or run interference for you with the insurance companies.”

  She tucked a short curl behind the pink shell of her ear. The memory flashed through his mind of pulling Beth onto his lap and running his tongue around that delicate curve, kissing that finely arched neck.

  “Thanks. That would be a help.”

  He came back to the present with a jolt. This isn’t Beth. This is Ellie. My best friend’s wife. Widow. Pregnant widow.

  She looked at him with a new, more avid expression.

  “What?”

  “Actually, there is something you could help me with.”

  “Name it.”

  “I want you to help me find Chris’s killer.”

  “Beth said something about murder in her message. What happened?”

  He listened as Ellie outlined the circumstances of Chris’s death, surprised she could talk about it so calmly. It had to be some form of denial.

  “What does the sheriff say? Was there an autopsy?”

  “I don’t care what the sheriff says, or the medical examiner,” she answered forcefully. “Chris was murdered! And I think someone tried to kill me and my sister too.”

  Jason took a long pull on his beer. So the sheriff and the medical examiner think it’s an accident. He glanced at her leaning forward where she sat on the sofa, looking at him with the same intensity he’d seen in Beth. Ellie had been through a hell of a lot. More than anyone should have to go through. And she was pregnant. He’d heard that could mess with a woman’s mind.