Dangerous Secrets

Suddenly she yearned for hot sun, green leaves, white sailboats on blue water and tourists shoulder to shoulder on this empty street, laughing and calling to each other. The fact that there was no escape, no way to leap ahead to the future where all the present problems and mysteries were solved sparked her temper.

She stopped and faced him. “You can’t be any more frustrated than I am. I’ve lost Ginger. Some crazy person is going around tearing my family’s houses apart searching for something. We don’t know what that something is or how far they will go to get it. I mean, will they kill someone else?”

Before he could answer, she went on, feeling the tide of frustration roiling, frothing inside her. “And now Rae-Jean has been attacked. Just dealing with Rae-Jean coming home from prison with the baby would have been enough. You think you have problems? Both sides of my family are going through terrible times. You only have Ben to worry about and you seem totally unwilling to spend any time with the boy and be concerned about his problems.”

“I have no experience with kids. But I’m trying to do the best I can. I wanted to get him settled so that he could have an easier time of it.”

“Or maybe you could have an easier time of it? What is it about Ben that most makes you want to get rid of him? Is it because he’s the same age as Dan was when he died?” she challenged him. Then that alarmed feeling shook her, warning her that she had gone too far.

Ridge made no reply. But he pulled away and began stalking the last few yards to the corner across from her bookshop.

She hurried after him; her hip faltered. She slipped on a patch of ice. And fell down hard.

Ridge turned back. “Are you all right?” He reached down to help her up from the icy pavement.

“I’m fine, but ashamed of myself.” Her face blazed. She was usually so careful not to fall in order not to aggravate her damaged hip further. And usually so careful of others’ feelings. “Ridge, I’m ashamed of myself for my anger at you. But I’m so concerned about Ben and his needs.” She couldn’t look him in the eye. “He’s so fragile at this time.”

Ridge drew her to her feet. One of his hands cupped her neck under her collar. The satiny fabric sensitized her neck or was it that his hand was only a millimeter from her skin?

“Don’t give it a thought.” His voice was still rough, but diffident. “After the past five days, neither of us has any patience or nerves left. And I don’t seem to be making a lot of good decisions about Ben.” His other hand pressed against the small of her back, drawing her closer to him, evidently keeping her steady. “With all that’s happened over the past few days, it’s a wonder we’re still in our right minds.”

“Maybe I’m not,” she teased a bit, trying to make up for goading him, striking him when he was already down. “I’m so sorry, Ridge,” she whispered.

Regret again triggered the tears that had hovered just a breath away from the moment she’d found Ginger dead. “I’m so sorry—” she blinked away the tears “—I just wish I could help you. Help Ben…Help you see that he has needs and feelings and…” All the emotions of the day, of the week overcame her. And then her head was resting against his chest again. The wool of his coat rasped her cheek.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. But he held her close. And that was what she needed now. No one had held her like this for a very long time. As winter dusk turned the sky to pewter, the last of the day’s wind continued to flog them. His nearness began to settle deep into her, soothing all of the ruffled edges that the last few days had caused.

Finally his voice came soft and low. “Sylvie, there is a reason that all this happened. Something that Ginger said or did or saw made her a target. Someone knows that Tom and Shirley were her parents and that you were her cousin and close friend. So both your houses were places that she might have visited the night she came home.”

“Or that she might have stayed last fall when she finished her summer here and left for Alaska again?” She looked up.

“That’s right. These three places—her apartment, her parents’ home and your apartment—all were places she would have been last summer.” His voice gained momentum. “What happened to Ginger last summer that would have carried over until now?” He stepped away from her.

She sensed him reestablishing his distance from her. Their moment of closeness was over. “But why would someone wait until now? Wouldn’t it have been easier to investigate, search these places, especially Ginger’s apartment, after she left for Alaska and before she came home?”

“Good point. But it leads nowhere.” He dropped his hands from her.

Bereft of his touch, she said, “I still think we need to find out what her surprise was. Maybe she told someone else around here. Maybe someone she knew met her when she came to town and told her something.”

“A better point.” His businesslike manner had returned, searing their connection. “We’ve asked that anyone who has information about Ginger’s movements the night she came home to come forward. No one has but you.”

“But if they have a guilty secret, they wouldn’t come forward,” she said, reestablishing her independence, too. She couldn’t let herself depend on Ridge. His stay here would be fleeting. “Because they would still be looking for whatever she had that they want…”

“Yes, and we don’t know what that is. But can you think of anyplace in Winfield or nearby that she frequented last summer that might be a hiding place for something important?” He studied her as though he could summon the answer from her with a word.

Blocking Ridge out so she could concentrate, Sylvie closed her eyes and tried to think. Ginger had worked the excursion boats that toured the Apostle Islands. That led nowhere. She shook her head.

“Can you think of anywhere that she stopped before she came to you that first night?”

Sylvie replayed in her mind the evening with Ginger and then the night she and her father had found Ben in Ginger’s attic. The peanut butter that Ben had eaten—yes. “Groceries. She had bought groceries.”

“Groceries? You mean the ones in Ginger’s fridge?”

“Yes.”

“I thought one of the deputies, that young one, Josh, told me you’d put those groceries in the fridge.”