The Trouble with Temptation (6 page)

BOOK: The Trouble with Temptation
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Jill had seemed to know her and when prompted, Jill had been more than happy to chatter on easily.

Yet none of the knowledge seemed to do anything to pry loose those memories. They remained stubbornly stuck behind a wall.

Four days had passed and that wall hadn’t yielded.

Dr. Briscoe had wanted to keep her in the hospital for a few days to make sure she put some weight on and keep an eye on her—and the baby—but finally, tomorrow, she could go home.

Maybe seeing her own place would knock something loose.

One brick could send that wall tumbling down, or so she wanted to think.

“Stop pushing yourself.”

At the sound of Jill’s voice, Hannah looked up. “Am I that transparent?”

Jill shrugged. “A little. Not that I don’t understand. I’d probably be doing the same thing.” She patted Hannah on the shoulder and said, “But pushing isn’t going to help. Just remember what Dr. Briscoe told you—it will take time.”

A few minutes later, Hannah was by herself, staring out the window.

She’d given it time.

Plenty of time.

How much
more
time was it going to take?

Feeling like the walls were trying to close in around her, she moved to the window and stared out. At least she could walk more than two or three feet without feeling like she was going to collapse. As she neared the plate of glass, she felt the sun’s warmth on her and she sighed. She
hated
being stuck inside.

She wanted to be out in the sun.

On her boat—

Houseboat
.

She had a vague impression of water. A deep voice giving her instructions, steady and easy, hands guiding her as they showed her how to tie off—

“You ready to eat?”

The memory fell to shreds. Stifling the urge to groan, she looked over her shoulder to see a woman there.

The ubiquitous cop was at her shoulder, a trim, petite woman, and Hannah knew from experience the uniformed officer wouldn’t leave until the hospital staff had left the room. The only time the cops didn’t escort people in and out of the room was when it was the doctor, another cop, a handful of the nurses and one or two other visitors. Including Brannon. Everybody else had the cop standing at their back. That ranged from people from dietary delivering her food to therapy to housecleaning to the lab techs to the visitors that seemed to come in an unending stream.

Nobody would explain to her
why
she needed the police watch dogs, either, and that was getting damned old.

Once she got out of here, she was going to dig up all the information she could about her car wreck.

“We’ve got meatloaf—”

Tomato-flavored sponge
, Hannah translated.

“Mashed potatoes—”
Starchy, potato-flavored mush
.

“Green beans.”
Mushy green slime
.

“And Jello!”

I can eat the Jello. There’s always room
.

The young woman smiled brightly as though she was delivering an elegant, four-course meal. “I’ll be back later!”

As she walked out, Hannah made her way over to the tray and eyed it, revulsion twitching in her gut. Morning sickness didn’t come at any certain time, but she’d already started with it and unpleasant smells definitely triggered it. The tomato-flavored sponge entrée definitely wasn’t doing her any favors.

“Miss Ella Sue!”

At the sound of her bodyguard’s warm voice, Hannah looked up.

Ella Sue. She knew that name.

“Well, child. Look at you.”

A black woman stood in the doorway, a basket over one arm while she propped the other hand on her hip.

“Hello,” Hannah said. Since she was already tired of the awkwardness, she asked, “Do I know you?”

Ella Sue chuckled. “Honey, you most definitely know me. And don’t go worrying about not remembering me, either. We’ll just have the pleasure of getting reacquainted all over again.”

“Okay.” Hannah covered the tray of unappetizing sponge, mush, and slime back up. “How do we know each other?”

Ella Sue came in and she paused by the table, lifting up the lid that covered Hannah’s dinner. She wrinkled her nose and covered it right back up. “How can they expect anybody to get well if they have to eat
that
?” she asked, shaking her head. Then she picked up the tray, carried it over to the dresser and put it down. “Have a seat, Hannah. I’ve got some good food for you. We’ll eat and we’ll talk.”

*   *   *

“You always had a soft spot for my boy.” Ella Sue sighed as she watched Hannah scrape her spoon over the bottom of the shallow bowl. Hannah had all but devoured the chicken and dumplings Ella Sue had brought in. It wasn’t the dish she’d normally make in the summer, but Hannah was pregnant. She needed something simple and filling in that belly of hers. It looked like it had hit the spot, too.

Hannah slid Ella Sue a look from under her lashes. “Did I?”

“Oh, did you ever. You’d watch him. Not when he could see it, mind you. He was used to girls watching him and he liked it. He wasn’t cruel with it, but you could tell he enjoyed the attention. Brannon … well, sometimes…” She sighed and looked away. “It’s terrible to say, but if he hadn’t lost his parents, he might have turned out to be a shallow, stupid bastard. Too pretty, too smart, rich to boot. Life came too easy for him and then he up and loses his mama and daddy. That was when he realized life wasn’t meant to be easy. He stopped enjoying it so much, but he still took things for granted.”

“He lost his parents?” Hannah lowered the bowl, her gaze averted.

“Yes.” Ella Sue took the bowl and went to go rinse it out as Hannah stared outside.

“What happened to them?”

The question was casually delivered, but Ella Sue knew it was most definitely
not
casual.

“They were in a wreck. They’d taken Neve to the bookstore.” Ella Sue paused and studied the younger woman. “You don’t remember Neve, do you?”

“I know she’s Brannon’s sister.” Hannah shrugged and looked away. “She’s come by, once or twice. Her face is familiar, but I don’t have those memories yet.”

“It will come.” Ella Sue patted Hannah’s hand. “Anyway. They’d taken her to the bookstore. They always did that. It used to be a family thing, and they all went, but this was a special trip, just the three of them. There weren’t any witnesses so the exact specifics are unknown—Neve was in the car, but she’s blocked most of the night out. But the car crashed. Mr. McKay died instantly but Mrs. McKay … she…” Ella Sue paused and cleared her throat. “She had internal hemorrhaging, other injuries. It took her well over an hour to die. Neve was trapped in the car, forced to watch the whole thing.”

Hannah curled her hands into fists.

“It was a terrible time for them.”

“And you.”

Ella Sue looked at the younger woman, saw the compassion in Hannah’s dark eyes. “Yes,” she murmured. “And me. They were my family, too. Those kids, I love them like they were my own. It was one of the worst days in my entire life.”

*   *   *

Unable to sit on the bed any longer, Hannah got up.

Neve
wasn’t just some faceless stranger to her. The woman had come by, bringing pajamas and jeans and tops and toiletries with her. She’d also hugged Hannah so hard it hurt, and when Brannon had tried to make her stop, Hannah had hugged her back.

No, she didn’t
remember
Neve.

But she knew her.

Now, she wore the pajamas Neve had brought and paced, her head full of the images Ella Sue’s words had conjured. Somehow, without even asking, she knew the wreck the older woman had mentioned had been a long time ago. Neve would have been young. Brannon, as well. A teenager maybe.

“Neve and I … we were friends then?” she asked.

“No,” Ella Sue said. “That took a while. You ended up in a class in middle school. If I recall correctly, some children were giving you a hard time. You…” Ella Sue paused, pursing her lips. “Well, you were a heavy child, Hannah. You lost weight when you got out of high school, but kids weren’t always nice to you when you were younger. Neve was something of a devil—she saw some girls picking on you and she dove right in. You told her to butt out and mind your own business. You could take care of yourself. So she told you to do it, then. I think you two almost came to blows. Somehow or other, you ended up as friends.”

Hannah smiled as she thought of the redhead who’d come by twice in the past few days. First, she’d been with Brannon, then by herself. She hadn’t let Hannah’s lack of memories affect her.

Yeah, Hannah could see the girl wading in like that.

She went to turn away from the window, a question on her lips. Her gaze landed on the magnolia tree.

And she froze.

Somebody was standing there.

Staring right at her.

She froze under the impact of that stare, her breath trapped inside her lungs.

“Hannah?”

Backing away a couple of steps, she shook her head.

“Hannah, what’s wrong?”

Something moved in the corner of her eye and she turned her head, saw Ella Sue coming closer.

She whipped her head back around, lifting a hand to point.

But there was nobody there.

*   *   *

“Your name is on the list.”

Gideon and Deatrick had been forced to take special measures for this particular interview. Sadly, certain people thought they were entitled to special treatment—like senators, for one.

Senator Henry Roberts might try to pass himself off as
one of the people
, but he sure as hell hadn’t been interested in coming in for an interview. The only thing that had gotten Gideon and Deatrick through the door was the fact that Gideon had made several not-so-subtle insinuations about the reasons he had to talk to the senator.

He didn’t live in Treasure but he was known around here. The last time he’d run for office, he’d tried damn hard to get the McKay family to come on board and support him.

Moira had coolly dismissed him.

Brannon had flipped him off with a smile.

That hadn’t exactly made them friends.

Sadly, he’d ended up in office anyway.

The senator was practically a caricature of a politician. Perfect suit, neatly knotted red tie with blue stripes, his snow-white hair immaculately groomed. He had a neat white beard as well, and Gideon couldn’t help but think that if he was in a white suit instead of that black one, he’d look like Colonel Sanders.

“We have absolutely no idea why my client’s name appeared on this list.” The lawyer, a slick-haired, suited-up cretin with the unfortunate name of Lewis Crooks, gave them a smarmy smile. “As the woman is dead, we can’t really ask her, either.”

“As the woman is dead, we have to ask you about the connection between your client and her,” Deatrick replied.

The senator made a show of studying his nails while Crooks chuckled. “You can’t really believe my client killed her. Please.” Crooks leaned in, hands linked in front of him. “Senator Roberts is a good man, a dedicated family man with a long history of working for this county and this state. He is known for his philanthropy and his kindness and his—”

“He’s known for enjoying his cocaine habit and his prostitutes,” Deatrick said, reaching into the folder and pulling out the photo stills lifted from the video.

Roberts suddenly lost interest in his manicure.

As the color drained from his face, his eyes bounced from one picture to another. Him snorting coke from a woman’s overly-ripe breasts. The same woman licking it from his cock. In the final still, the two of them were frozen in a position that left no room for imagination.

Gideon didn’t look at the images. They’d been burned on his brain and despite his distaste for the man, he had to give the man credit. He was in sixties and could party like a damn rock star.

As Crooks started to sputter and voice protests, Roberts reached out and picked up one of the pictures.

After a few seconds, the senator placed it face down and reached over, putting a hand on the lawyer’s arm.

“I didn’t kill Shayla Hardee,” he said, his voice flat.

“Senator, don’t say anything.”

“Please, spare me. You and I both know how this looks.” He shot the lawyer a dark look, then he focused a withering smile on Deatrick and Gideon. “She gave me the video. She claimed it was the only one, but I’m no fool. So I paid her.”

“Never thought about … eliminating the problem?” Gideon asked when Deatrick flicked him a look.

“There was no problem.” The senator smiled glibly. “We had a workable arrangement. I paid her and she was satisfied. She never pushed for more and I never missed a payment. She was a vindictive, greedy woman, but she wasn’t completely stupid.”

Again, the lawyer tried to silence the senator. “I need a moment with my client.”

“Shove it, Crooks. I’ve got a motive and we all know it.” Then he smiled thinly. “But the good news I have an alibi—and it’s ironclad. I ended up in the hospital the night Ms. Hardee died. I was at a private dinner party—I’ll give you a list of names, if you’ll keep it quiet as to why you’re asking. Somehow, it wasn’t made clear that I have a deadly allergy to shrimp. They had to call an ambulance. I’m told I even stopped breathing for a few seconds en route to the hospital due to the swelling in my throat.”

Well, shit
.

That pretty much knocked the senator off the list.

They had only a good thirty people left to go now.

Who to call next … the sweet lady who ran the B&B? One of the several doctors? Or the county judge?

*   *   *

Outside the large windows, there was a lovely view of the sun setting over the Mississippi. The grounds beyond that sparkling pane of glass were elegantly manicured, and the grass was a stunning shade of green. Flowers chosen for their color and resistance to disease and drought dotted the landscape.

The stunning scene made little difference to the man inside the house.

He’d worked damn hard to get where he was and he enjoyed showing off the fruits of his labor, but he rarely took time to enjoy them for himself.

BOOK: The Trouble with Temptation
13.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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