Marta Perry - Where Secrets Sleep

But being privy to the woman’s business life had certainly added to the picture she’d formed. Evelyn had been a good businesswoman, meticulous if a bit old-fashioned in her methods.

She had been capable of surprising generosity. There was the partnership with Sarah for one thing. And apparently Evelyn had also carried the bookstore through a couple of dry periods, carefully noting the dates on which she’d been paid back. Without interest, it seemed. Generous, yes. So how did a woman who was so giving to others justify ignoring her only grandchild?

Sighing, Allison brushed her hair behind her ears and massaged the back of her neck. That was a riddle to which she’d probably never know the answer.

A glance at the window showed her that it was getting dark already. Allison checked the time and began gathering papers together. Get a bite to eat first, and then go back to the inn. By the time she’d done that, Leslie should be home from the office and ready to talk.

The building had grown dark and quiet around her while she worked. She’d been vaguely aware of the occupants of the other offices leaving, hearing the sound of voices and the clatter of heels as they went down the stairs. She ought to be alone in the building, but she could hear the distinct sound of movement.

Puzzled but not alarmed, she went to the door and opened it. For a moment all was silent. Then there was the sharp sound of a footstep, and then another.

Allison couldn’t seem to prevent the frisson of alarm that rippled along her nerves. If every office and shop in the building was closed, who was here?

The custodian, of course. She nearly laughed out loud. She’d just been looking at the building records. There was a custodian, even though she hadn’t met him yet.

Well, no time like the present. Leaving the office open and the lights on, she moved quickly down the hall toward the stairs. “Hello?” Her voice echoed as if she’d called into a canyon.

Nothing. No one answered.

“Mr. Glick? Is that you? It’s Allison Standish.”

Still nothing, but the footsteps were clearer and more hurried now, coming from the hall below. Allison hustled to the top of the stairs and looked down.

From this vantage point she could see the entire front half of the hallway that bisected the building, with the quilt shop on her left and the cabinet showroom on the right. Nothing moved there.

Annoyed now, she hurried down the steps. How rude, not to answer when she called out. Surely anyone who belonged in the building would know who she was, even if they hadn’t met yet.

Anyone who belonged. She stopped three-quarters of the way down, clinging to the bannister. Someone, maybe Nick, had said something about a prowler.

Allison reached for the pocket of her jacket and found it empty. Her cell phone was lying on the desk upstairs.

She should go back to the office and call the police. But then she’d look remarkably silly if her prowler turned out to be someone who had every right to be here.

Allison took another tentative step down, undecided, and heard a rush of footsteps followed by the bang of the back door. The noise galvanized her into action. She ran down the stairs, swung around the newel post at the bottom and raced for the back exit. She couldn’t possibly catch the person, but maybe she could get a glimpse of him.

The back door was closed but not locked. She yanked it open, charged forward and nearly ran into Nick Whiting, who grasped her by the elbows.

The tinge of fear transformed into anger. “What do you mean by sneaking around the building that way? Were you trying to alarm me?”

Nick’s open face tightened. “Is fighting mad always your first response? I wasn’t in the building. I was just coming out of the workshop when I thought I heard someone call out. I came to see what was wrong.”

That sounded logical. Besides, the person she’d heard was going out. He or she wouldn’t turn around and come back in, would they?

Only if they wanted to make you think they were just arriving on the scene, a little voice commented at the back of her mind.

Allison pulled away from Nick’s warm grasp, aware of his strength. “What are you doing here this late, anyway?”

“Working,” he said briefly. “I went home to put my son to bed, and then I came back to work for an hour or so.”

“Son?” She wasn’t sure why she was so startled. Of course someone like Nick would be married. He ought to wear a wedding ring. “I didn’t know you were married.”

His strong features tightened again. “I’m not. My son, Jamie, is six. We live with my folks.”

Allison’s mind seethed with questions, none of which she dared ask. Better stick to the point. “I heard someone in the building. Whoever it was, he didn’t answer when I called. You had mentioned something about a prowler.”

“So you decided to go after him alone?” His eyebrow rose in that gesture she was beginning to dislike.

“Certainly not. I heard him go out of the building. I was just hoping to get a look at him.” A shiver went through her. “Did you see anyone?”

“Not a glimpse, but anyone could have gone around the corner before I got to where I’d see him.” He gave her a measuring look, as if assessing how much she was to be trusted.

She did her best to ignore it. “Do you suppose he broke into any of the offices?”

“I’ll have a look,” Nick said. “You stay here.”

That sounded tempting, but her pride intervened. “I’ll go with you.”

Exasperation was written clearly on his face, but he didn’t argue. Together they moved through the ground floor, checking doors. She hated admitting that she wanted to stick close to him. Somehow that rough-hewn appearance of his was very appealing right now. He looked as if he could handle anything.

The shops were all locked, dark and, she supposed, normal.

“My keys are upstairs in Evelyn’s office. We could look inside,” she offered.

“I don’t think there’s much point. If someone had broken in, it would be obvious.” Nick flicked a light switch, bathing the back part of the hallway in its glow. The storerooms were locked and dark, as well.

Allison eyed Nick’s face as they went up the stairs side by side. His jaw was set, and his gaze was intent. He looked tough and determined, and she would definitely stack him up against any prowler.

There was that word again. “Why did you think there might be a prowler?”

He looked startled for an instant. “You mean when I saw you last night?” He shrugged. “There have been rumors making the rounds about a prowler in town, but no one seems to have seen anything definite.”

“If that’s the case, this should be reported to the authorities. I’ll call 911—”

“No need,” Nick said. “Consider it reported. As it happens, my brother, Mac, is the police chief. And oddly enough, I’m the mayor.”

“You? The mayor?”

Nick grinned at the doubt she made obvious. “Yes, me. Don’t be impressed, though. In a town of eight thousand people, being the mayor is as much a popularity contest as anything else.”

“I see.” She studied his face, wondering just how serious he was. “What, exactly, does the mayor of Laurel Ridge do?”

Nick shrugged. “Goes to a town council meeting once a month. Declares it Safety Week or Blueberry Day. Serves as a judge for the annual Pet and Toy Parade.”

Was he serious? Apparently so. “I’m sure you’re well suited to judging the Pet and Toy Parade, whatever that is.”

“Hey, that’s a serious event here.” He assumed an injured look as he checked office doors and rattled handles on the second floor. “And judging isn’t a piece of cake, especially when the contestants might cry if they don’t win. Or bite the judge.”