A Memory Worth Dying For (14 page)

In spite of the opposition she faced, she knew what the answer would be even before the words left her mouth.

“I’ll stay—even if I don’t think this will work and even if I know as soon as he remembers he’ll tell me to leave again. I’ll stay. I’ll do it . . . for you.”

Gerald put both hands on her arms. “Sweet Marti. Thank you. And pray, Marti. Pray with all your heart for God to work things out.” He kissed her on the cheek and walked back down the hallway.

Marti watched his retreating figure and frowned. God didn’t help her keep Daniel before. Would he really help now?

Hashtag: futile
?

TWENTY-FIVE

ON HIS WAY DOWNSTAIRS TO
meet Veronica, Daniel walked through the spacious den and into the kitchen while thoughts of the artist in the room upstairs marched around in his head. The brief handshake they shared left an indelible impression on his right hand and created goose bumps across the back of his neck. Her outward beauty was obvious, but something made him uneasy in her presence. For some reason, her hand, warm and tender, felt good in his, and that made him angry. His heart did funny things during the short time he was with her—almost as if they’d connected before.

Guilt reared its head at his reaction to a beautiful stranger—because of Veronica. Veronica was his best friend—for as long as he could remember. The bond between them should have been stronger than his initial reaction to a stranger. They were getting married, for goodness sake! Although he tried to feel comfortable in the role of Veronica’s fiancé, it still felt strange to think of himself in that way—and that bothered him.

Daniel walked out the patio door to meet Veronica and her father standing beside their Mercedes—close to the stable
yard entrance.

Veronica’s arms were crossed in front of her, and green eyes flashed from a flushed face. Had he done something to upset her? The fury changed immediately, however, when she saw Daniel’s approach. Little Chris launched himself toward Daniel and into his arms.

“Daniel, sweetheart.” Veronica leaned against him and kissed him soundly, glancing toward the second story of the house. When her countenance fell, Daniel was surprised at her reaction.

Chris started squirming when he saw the stable hand leading a white horse from the stable.

“Down, Unc’l Dan’l. Let me down.”

Daniel lowered the squirming toddler to the ground and laughed as Chris’ legs began pumping before his feet hit
the ground.

“Not too close, sweetie. We don’t want you to get hurt.” Veronica called as the stable hand stopped Chris from getting closer to the huge animal.

She turned to Daniel, eyebrows raised, and a question in her eyes.

“Did I see a woman’s face at your bedroom window upstairs, darling?”

Bingo!
That’s why she was mad. She’d seen the artist upstairs. He hurried to explain. “It’s the artist my father hired. Remember? It’s an amazing coincidence that it’s the same artist we met at the reception in the Landeville Gallery—the one who did the painting in my bedroom.”

Fire flashed through Veronica’s eyes before she could suppress the anger. “Yes, that is quite a coincidence.”

She lowered her eyes and pulled him closer.

“She’s not going to take too much of your time is she, Daniel? Because you know we’re in the middle of planning our wedding. I don’t see why you can’t wait until after the honeymoon to have your portrait done. Why don’t you suggest she come back in about a month?”

Daniel blew out a troubled breath. “This is my dad’s doing, Veronica. After the first session, I won’t have to see her at all until she’s done. It won’t hinder our plans. I promise.”

Veronica laid her head on his shoulder and glanced up. “I’ve missed you while you were gone this week, darling. I hated for you to go to an old auction without me. Being apart is unacceptable this close to the wedding. Your dad said you had a touch of food poisoning. Are you feeling better?”

Daniel looked into her green eyes and smiled. “Yes, definitely back to normal.”

Veronica pursed her tiny lips and looked at him through her dark painted lashes. “Will she be staying here at the house?”

“Who? Oh, the artist. Yes. My dad fixed up a studio suite, remember?”

Veronica stepped away as Daniel turned toward her father inspecting the white horse Max had brought out of the stable. She murmured something under her breath that sounded like “I bet he did.”

Daniel looked at her with a question in his eyes. “What’s gotten into you lately? It’s not like you to be so cross.”

Veronica didn’t answer but lowered her eyes as Mr. Duke turned toward them. Daniel held out his hand.

“Hello, Mr. Duke. It’s good to see you again, sir.”

His tall neighbor reached over and shook Daniel’s hand enthusiastically. “Hello, Daniel, my boy. I came by to see the new mares you brought in this week. This one looks promising.”

Tension tightened Daniel’s features, and he bristled at the envy he saw in the steel gray eyes. He knew there might be hard feelings after he’d won the bid for the lot of breeding mares belonging to a famous horse breeder in California. Shane had put in a bid for the same horses, but his bid had fallen short. Daniel searched Shane’s eyes for a sign of anger but saw none.

“Sure. Most of them are in the stable still getting accustomed to their new home. Come on and I’ll show you.” He led the way as Veronica forced a laugh and linked her arm in Daniel’s.

Shane strode beside them until they stepped inside the barn and let their eyes focus in the dim light. Shane stepped over to one of the stalls and checked out the filly inside. Then he walked down the wide aisle, inspecting each mare.

“They really look good, son. I can tell they have good marketable bloodlines.” Shane’s voice almost sounded defeated. He walked into the stall with a buckskin mare and ran his hands over her carefully. “This one might give you some trouble. I saw her history sheet, and she hasn’t performed as well as the others. You never know, though; sometimes a horse with limited abilities will produce a foal of much better quality.”

Daniel propped his legs on the bottom rung of the wooden railing and looped his arms over the top of the stall. Shane was giving the mare a thorough evaluation—almost as if he were thinking about a purchase.

Veronica tugged on Daniel’s arm and pulled him into the large storage closet that housed saddles, bridles, and blankets hanging on the walls. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head close. After a sweet lingering kiss, she looked into his eyes.

“Daniel, wouldn’t you like to move up the wedding three weeks? We could get married this weekend instead. I’ll even give up the hand-picked white orchids for my wedding flower if you’ll say yes.” She leaned in toward him and whispered “Please?” with lips that parted slightly.

“What?” Daniel was shocked. After all the preparations Veronica had insisted on handling herself, he couldn’t believe she wanted to throw it all away just for the sake of three weeks.

“I know, darling, I’ve worked so hard to make the wedding a success, but I just can’t wait to become Mrs. Daniel Rushing. And, think of Chris—he adores you. It would make him so happy to have a daddy that much sooner.”

Daniel shook his head. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. There are many more things to consider than the type of flower you’ve picked. What about the horse auction next week? I have several mares ready for sale, and next week’s auction will bring the best price.”

Veronica’s shoulders fell. “Oh, Daniel. Which is more important? Selling a few horses for a tiny bit of extra money, or the happiness of your fiancée and her brother?”

A hand was closing around his throat. What was he supposed to say? He had the wedding jitters, and it was still three weeks away.

“I don’t know, Nikki . . . I mean, Veronica. In order for things to run smoothly, I think we need to keep things as they are.” He flashed her a placating smile. “You know how I am—live by the book and plan everything.”

Veronica’s lips pushed out in a flirty pout. “Okay, darling, but promise me you’ll think about it, anyway?”

Daniel frowned. “I don’t think I’ll change my mind. Just keep on planning the wedding, and before you know it, it’ll be here.”

TWENTY-SIX

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, GERALD SAT
in the recliner watching the local news channel when Parker entered the room.

“Mr. Rushing, there’s a woman named Amber Pike in the living room. She says she’s an insurance investigator, and she’d like to talk to you about the accident, sir.”

“The accident? What accident?”

Parker didn’t answer—just raised his eyebrows and looked at his employer.

Gerald sighed and peeled himself out of the chair. “All right, Parker, I’ll talk to her in here. Show her the way, will you?”

Parker nodded and left the room.

Gerald took a minute to stare out the window at the clouds rolling overhead. Why would an insurance investigator be checking into his daughter’s accident? That had all been settled long ago.

When the investigator entered the room, she clutched a briefcase in one hand and a Providence Insurance bag in the other. Tall and thin with jet black hair pulled up high in a bun, the young woman looked like she stepped off the page of a fashion magazine. Her suit was tailored and well-pressed, and the shine on her black high-heeled shoes would make a sailor proud. She glanced around the room before walking over to Gerald and offering him a firm handshake as she introduced herself.

Gerald nodded and motioned toward the chair across from him as he seated himself. “Please sit down, Ms. Pike. What can I do for you?”

“Please call me Amber, sir. May I call you Gerald?”

When Gerald nodded, she sat down on the edge of the chair, opened her briefcase, and pulled out a yellow pad and a green pen with Providence Insurance stamped on the side. Leaning back in the chair, she studied Gerald for an uncomfortable moment.

“Gerald, I have some information I’d like to share with you eventually, but first I’d like to ask you some questions about the accident that claimed the life of your daughter and son-in-law.”

Gerald’s insides felt shaky. “What is this about, Amber? I thought all this was covered three years ago, and the case
was closed.”

“No, not exactly. The case was filed, but not closed. Something came to my attention recently, and I’ve re-examined the case.”

Gerald’s eyes narrowed. “Look, that was a horrible time in all of our lives. I don’t have any desire to revisit any of those memories. What do you mean, something new came to your attention?”

“We had some new information come to light that forced me to do more investigating and have the sheriff’s office run more tests on some of the materials gathered at the accident sight.”

“What kind of information?”

Amber leaned forward and stared at Gerald as if she were interested in every move. “The officer working the accident understood that your daughter-in-law—” she looked down at the paper—“Martha Rushing, was the person driving the car. Is that correct?”

“We call her Marti now, but yes, that’s what our neighbor, Mary Duke, told the police. She was the first one on the scene. She delivered my grandson. Unfortunately . . . he . . . didn’t make it.”

“Yes, that’s what the report said.” Amber tapped her finger on the briefcase cover.

Gerald could stand the mystery no longer. “Look, ma’am, if you have new information—”

Ignoring Gerald’s outburst, Amber interrupted. “Mrs. Duke said Mrs. Rushing was driving but was thrown out of the car when the car turned over. Is that correct, sir?”

Frustration made his eyes burn, but Gerald answered the question. “Yes. Mary said when she arrived, Marti was lying on the driver’s side of the car, about ten feet from the vehicle.”

“
Hmm
. What about seat belts? Do you remember if Mrs. Rushing mentioned wearing a seat belt?”

“No. Honestly, Amber, I never spoke to Marti. She was in intensive care and wasn’t allowed visitors. My daughter was in critical condition, and I was with her. I didn’t even see Marti again until she came home from the hospital. By that time, my daughter was dead, and—”

“Yes, I understand, Gerald, but I was told Mary came straight to you first when you arrived at the hospital. I was hoping she might have mentioned the seat belts.”

“She just told me that Marti had been driving—that she was thrown out when the car flipped over and came to rest upside down. Mary didn’t stay at the hospital long. She was upset about the baby. When Mary arrived at the accident scene, Marti was in labor. Since Mary’s a nurse, she delivered the baby before the ambulance got there. The storm had washed the bridge out, and the ambulance had to go all the way around by Martinsville.”

Amber’s eyes lit up. “So Martha was thrown out of the car, and yet the seat belt—”

“Look, ma’am, what’s all this about?”

Amber stood to her feet. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not at liberty to disclose information at this time. However, I’ll be contacting you again. Thank you for your time.” She leaned over and held out her hand to Gerald.

Gerald’s surprise weakened his handshake, and he stood in awe as the woman left the room. What in the world was all that about? What information could she possibly have uncovered to make her re-open the case?

TWENTY-SEVEN

STELLA WASHINGTON HUMMED QUIETLY IN
the Rushing kitchen. She loved her job of twenty years. Feeding the Rushing family and their hardworking hands was a satisfying challenge. Now that Marti was back, there was hope singing in her heart.

Her hand curled around the potholder and pulled the oven door open. She poked the roast beef with a fork and turned down the temperature. Almost done. The vegetables were cooked and simmering on the stove, and all she had to do was toss the salads. She had plenty of time to make a dessert.

She pulled out her recipe file and flipped to the dessert tab.

“Let’s see. What looks good?”

“Talking to yourself again?”

Stella smiled at the humor in Marti’s voice. “You know what they say, young lady. You talk to yourself when you want intelligent conversation.”