Read Midas Murders [Book 3 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] Online
Authors: Janet Lane Walters
"We're leaving,” Lars said.
"Daddy, it's barely midnight."
"Kate and I plan an early start tomorrow."
"Where are you going?"
"To the chalet."
"The party was delightful,” I said.
Bonnie preened. “Yes, it was. If we don't mention the uninvited guests.” She glared at Carl.
He shrugged. “What could I do?"
"Thanks for inviting me. I'll see you when your father and I return."
Lars pulled me away. We donned our wraps and stepped into the frosty night. “Lord, I'm tired,” he said. “The noise and the prattle..."
"I'll agree that the evening was a bit draining.” I squeezed his hand. “I did overhear several telling conversations."
"I heard at least a hundred."
"These had to do with your problems."
"I don't want to talk about them."
"Why not?"
"One question. If I'd been missing for several days, would you have gone home in a huff?"
"How can you ask that? I'd have conducted a house to house search for you."
"Do you think many people would believe that?"
"Many people or one particular person? Who are you talking about?"
"Just a notion.” He linked arms with me. “Let's not talk about my strange absence. I'd rather talk about us."
"We're friends. We'll always be that.” Didn't he realize there were problems to be solved before we could plan a future?
He opened the door of the house and ushered me inside. After he hung my cape and his coat in the closet, he drew me into his arms. “I want us to be more.” His mouth closed over mine.
Since we're both early risers, Lars and I had breakfast by eight. I waited until we'd finished eating and relaxed over coffee and tea before I launched my attack.
"Let's cancel this sightseeing expedition. There are things you need to do here."
Lars’ mug clicked on the inlaid tile surface of the table. “Stop acting like a bulldog. Release this penchant or yours for seeing crime everywhere. There are places I want you to see. Sights you'll enjoy."
I crossed my arms and pressed my lips into a firm line. “One more time. You were kidnapped. How can you brush that off like crumbs on a table."
"Am I doing that? Was I kidnapped? Where was the ransom note?” He held up his hands. “I need to get away. There are things I need to think about. Decisions I must make."
I sighed with force. “Maybe you do, but we can't sit here and do nothing. Last night you refused to listen to the things I overheard. I am not leaving this house until you do."
"Fine. Fill my ears with gossip."
"This isn't gossip.” I repeated the two conversations I'd overheard and waited for his response.
For a long time he stared at the table. “Do you think Bonnie's behind my disappearance?"
"Did I say that?"
"It's what I believe and I know she'd never harm me.” He walked to the door into the sunroom. “She doesn't want me to retire and move back east. She didn't want you to visit. Remember the question I asked you last night. Apply that to her."
I joined him. “You mean would I leave if you were gone for days? You know I wouldn't. How does that effect your daughter?"
He nodded. “How? I know you wouldn't rush off but think of her reaction to being stood up."
"She'd find a way to make the person pay."
"Probably, but first she'd leave, refuse to speak to the person and then plot against him or her."
Perhaps he was right, but that possibility didn't ease my fears. “I think there's more going on. What if Bonnie plans to divorce Carl? I doubt he'll agree to leave with empty pockets. Once you retire from the company all the assets will be hers. I'm sure he wants a share. In fact, he might know a way to get it all."
"The assets will be hers and Don's. You're still thinking about what you didn't do regarding Roger Brandon. This situation isn't the same. Let's get away and enjoy a few days, just you and me."
Frustration dug claws into my thoughts. Lars comes close to being the most stubborn man in existence. For now I'd drop the subject, but I'd keep chipping at his resistance. For some reason he needed to believe he wouldn't be harmed. Maybe he was right, but what would happen to him if his faith was shattered.
"I don't understand your reasons for this stubborn avoidance.” I glared at him. “I won't stop pushing. If you'd like me to leave, I'm sure I can find an earlier flight home."
He put his arms around me. “Your leaving is the last thing I want. I know you're worried. You wouldn't be Kate if you weren't. Until I see where the pieces fit, I can't act. Will you trust me?"
Though I wished he'd share some of those pieces with me, I nodded. Our gazes locked and I read his determination to go his own way. “All right. I'll trust you for now."
"Go pack. We'll be about a week.” He smiled and some of the tension lines in his face faded.
"What kind of clothes?"
"Casual for the most part. We'll be staying at a ski resort and doing a lot of walking. Bring something dressy for tonight."
With forced enthusiasm, I smiled. “I'd still rather stay here."
"And play detective.” He brushed my lips with his,
"Is there a washer and dryer at the chalet?"
"A small unit. Why?"
"I'll need to wash a few things either here or there."
"Bring them along. Go pack."
In the bedroom, I opened my suitcase and selected several outfits. On one side of the case, I put the clothes I'd need to wash. I debated about taking the jewelry Lars had given me and decided I'd probably not have the need for the set. I placed the case in one of the bureau drawers.
Once I finished packing, I left my suitcase in the foyer and hurried to the kitchen. There I stowed the tins of mint in a canvas bag.
Lars appeared in the doorway. “Are you sure you want to start in town? The shops will be closed."
"As if you'd let me shop. I can window shop and plan for my own visit.” I smiled. “We could stop at your office. I'd love to see where you work."
He threw up his hands. “Kate, you're not getting involved."
I put the tins in the bag. “Already am. You can't hide from this forever. Is there something you're not telling me? Something connected to Ramona's death?” Though the question just slipped out, to me it made sense.
He looked away. “Maybe...I've received notes with hints that her death wasn't an accident."
"What did you do with them?"
"Tossed them. They were vague. Promised proof that never materialized. If there'd been solid evidence, I would have gone to the police. I loved her. The day she married Don, she became my daughter. She made him happy. Gave us Megan.” Grief shadowed his eyes. “The baby would have been my first grandson."
Then why had he given Bonnie her way? Why had he allowed Ramona to remain Carl's assistant? Why hadn't he made her a partner?
"What about her suspicions?"
His face flushed. “I'm afraid she discovered some of my manipulations. If she had come and asked, I could have explained."
"What did you do?"
"Twice I took money to cover Carl's gambling debts. He and Bonnie begged me to keep the patter secret. The second time he swore he'd stay away from the tables."
"And you believed him?"
"What else could I do?"
"Gotten his oath in blood."
He shook his head. “I don't think that would have worked. Go get settled in the car. I have to call Don and let him know we're leaving."
I followed him to the living room. “Will you also call Bonnie?"
"She knows. Told her last night."
"But we're not going to the chalet today. What if she needs you for business problems?"
"Today, not likely. No one's doing business.” He shook his head. “She can find us at the chalet tomorrow. This will be good practice for her.” He grinned. “I've had a great run, but there's more to life than making money."
"King Midas hangs up his crown."
"Abdicates.” He chuckled. “Remember the night I was dubbed. We were so young and happy."
The night we celebrated the first of Lars’ successful ventures, my husband had given him the name. Years later just before John died, he asked Lars to take care of me for I was the real gold.
Lars caught my hand. “I failed to keep my promise to him."
"Nonsense. Our friendship has been a blessing. I have no regrets about the way my life has gone.” If I said that often enough, I might believe.
"I've had one or two.” He released me and picked up the phone. “Are you sure you have everything you'll need?"
"Including the mint."
"Kate's cure-all."
The teasing tone of Lars’ voice brought memories of other times he'd joked about the powers of the tea. What the brew couldn't cure was the uneasiness I felt about his safety.
While he made his call, I carried my suitcase and the bag of mint to the car. As I fastened my seatbelt, I glanced toward the house at the top of the drive.
Carl dashed toward the carport. Bonnie followed. She halted with her hands on her hips. Carl spun to face her. Though I was too distant to hear what they said, their gestures made me believe they quarreled. Carl jumped into the Jaguar and sped down the drive. Bonnie stood for a few minutes before returning to the house.
Lars opened the driver's door. “We're on our way."
I gestured toward the speeding car. “You missed an argument."
"A common event,” he said. “They're too much alike and both of them have volatile tempers. One reason I was against the marriage, but when has Bonnie ever listened to anyone?"
"What if she told him she wants a divorce so she can marry Damon?"
"Damon? Impossible."
"Why? There's strong feelings between them."
"It's not what you think. He's Carl's friend. In fact, I hired him on Carl's recommendation. If anything she resents their friendship and his position as my assistant."
"Could they be using her?"
Lars started the car. “If they are, I don't want to be around when she learns. I envy you. Andrew's never given you a bit of trouble."
Laughter nearly choked me. “No trouble. What about Rachel? He was ready to throw away everything for that... that tart."
Lars backed onto the drive. “Your first body, wasn't it?"
"Lars!"
He patted my arm. “Bonnie and Carl have their flares, but by the time we return, they'll be in each other's arms."
"What brings these quarrels on?"
"Her flirting. His gambling. He needs help, but he refuses to seek counseling."
"Why do you keep him on?"
"He's a great number cruncher. No instincts for new businesses though. Twice he's recommended ventures that have failed."
"Lately?"
Lars shook his head. “Who would listen to him? Bonnie's learning and so is Damon. Sure wish Don would take an interest. A man likes to leave his business to his son."
I shook my head. “Do you hear yourself? Why this insistence on Don? I'm sure Bonnie resents that. Can't you be content to leave matters to your daughter?"
"I'd never cut her out. She and Don can work together. He refuses to try. Always in some kind of creative fugue. He needs a solid direction."
That wasn't my impression. Don was an artist, but he was also a good single parent. “I think you're wrong about him. I think the two of you need to talk."
"When we have time. I suppose you know what's on his mind."
"I've a good idea, but it's not my place to tell you."
"You're right.” At the gate, he used a gadget like a garage opener.
Lars pulled the car into the garage of the La Fonda Hotel. He popped the trunk and took out our suitcases.
"What are you doing?"
"We're staying here tonight."
"Lars, that's silly. We're fifteen minutes from your house."
"Are you pinching my pennies?"
"I just don't see the necessity."
"If we return to the house, Bonnie will want to rehash the party. Then she'll go on and on about the quarrel with Carl. Don will demand that talk I'm avoiding until I've marshaled my arguments. Look at this way. You'll be spending the night on historical grounds. Since people settled here, there's been a hostelry here."
I laughed. “You win."
"Wish it was always this easy to persuade you."
Though I still questioned his motives, I wouldn't argue. Maybe he had another reason for leaving the house. Not fear or concern about another attempt to grab him. If that had been the case, we would have left right after I brought him home from the hospital.
I grabbed the bag of mint and followed him inside. As we walked toward the lobby, I paused to look at the displays of pottery, jewelry and clothes.
Lars turned. “We're not shopping."
"Just browsing and storing ideas for the day to come to buy."
He grinned. “Better you than me."
After we settled in our suite, Lars suggested we walk around the old section of town. “We'll follow a bit of the Santa Fe trail."
I pulled on my gloves and strode to the door. We left the hotel and headed toward the Loretto Chapel and the miraculous staircase to the choir loft. As we rounded the corner, I caught a glimpse of a dark-haired man. He ducked into a doorway. I jerked to a halt.
"What's wrong?” Lars asked.
"I thought I saw...there was a man with dark hair. He looked suspicious."
He squeezed my hand. “You're jumping at shadows. Do you know how many men with dark hair there are in this town?"
"I imagine there are a lot. I'm just a bit edgy."
"And foolish."
He could be right. His daughter could be the one who'd hidden him in hopes I would go home.
"Let's go into the chapel. Every time I come here the sight awes me. No nails and no visible supports to hold the thing up."
I'd read about the staircase, but nothing in the books prepared me for what I saw. “Pictures don't capture the reality."
Lars smiled. “I know."
For the rest of the day new marvels constantly enchanted me. Once, I stopped to browse in a shop window. A light shone inside. “Lars, I think they're open."