Marta Perry - How Secrets Die

Had she thought Jason boring, too? Or had he been interesting, an urban stranger, someone she hadn’t known all her life? Kate didn’t think Jason had mentioned Nikki, but he may have. He often didn’t bother with names when he talked about people.

Only one way to find out. “I wonder if you remember my brother. He worked here for the summer last year.”

“Jason?” Nikki’s pointed features seemed to tighten. “Jason was your brother?”

“That’s right. I’m Kate. Kate Beaumont. I suppose you got to know him, with you two being the only young people working here. Did he mention me?”

“He said he had a sister who was a reporter someplace.” Nikki pushed a curl out of her face with a scarlet fingertip. “That’s you, huh?”

Kate nodded, debating with herself about how much she wanted to say to the receptionist. Maybe it was better not to let Nikki think she wanted anything in particular, at least until Kate knew how close she’d been to Jason. “He seemed to enjoy his job.”

Nikki shrugged. “It’s an okay place to work, if you don’t mind routine. And I took him around a little bit. You know, showed him what passes for nightlife in a place like this.”

“He told me you’d been friendly.” He hadn’t, but let that pass in the interest of establishing a rapport with Nikki. “He appreciated it, especially since he didn’t know anyone here.”

“Maybe. But he sure didn’t like partying all that much.” Nikki didn’t seem to realize that a big sister might consider that a good thing. “That’s why it was so strange when he—well, you know.” She lowered her voice, as if speaking of death required softer tones.

“You didn’t have any idea he’d been into drugs?” In Kate’s experience, someone like Nikki was more likely to recognize the signs than one of the bosses would have been.

“I didn’t think—”

One of the doors behind Nikki opened, and her voice cut off immediately.

“Nikki, why didn’t you tell me there was a client waiting?” The man who surged forward, hand extended, had the kind of professional smile usually worn by anyone who had something to sell—his slightly puffy cheeks creasing, eyes crinkling in welcome as if she were a long-lost relative. “I’m Bart Gordon.” He clasped her hand warmly. “And you are?”

“Kate Beaumont.” How long would it take for the jovial welcome to wear off once he knew she wasn’t a client? Not long, she suspected, but maybe she was being too cynical.

“She’s Jason Reilley’s sister,” Nikki said before Kate could.

Gordon stiffened, his hand releasing hers. “I see.” The smile became noticeably artificial. “What brings you to see us, Ms. Beaumont?”

“I happened to be in Laurel Ridge and thought I’d like to introduce myself to my brother’s friends and colleagues here. And to thank you for the beautiful flower arrangement you sent for the services.”

The man’s tension seemed to ease. “The least we could do. Such a sad loss,” he murmured.

“I see that Mr. Sheldon is no longer active in the firm. I did want to express my thanks to him, as well.” And ask him about my brother.

“Russell Sheldon retired last year. Poor fellow—the work was getting beyond him. I’ll be sure to give him your message when I see him. Thanks for stopping by.” Gordon’s fingers brushed her elbow, as if he’d usher her out.

Not yet. She ignored the hint. “Jason’s death was a terrible shock, of course. Especially since he’d been so enthusiastic about his internship. Was there some issue at work that might have disturbed or upset him?”

Gordon’s already flushed face reddened alarmingly. “Are you trying to blame us for what your brother did? If you think you can hold the firm responsible, you’ve got another—”

The door to the other office opened behind him, a woman emerging. Kate’s wayward imagination presented her with an image of a Bavarian clock, with figures appearing and disappearing through their little doors.

“Bart, I’m sure you’re misunderstanding the situation.” She smiled at Kate, extending her hand. “I’m Lina Oberlin, Mr. Gordon’s assistant. Did I hear him say that you’re poor Jason’s sister?”

In other words, she’d been listening behind the door. Maybe, as Nikki had said, things were so boring that any interruption was welcome.

The female assistant was fair, blonde and fortyish, with hair drawn back from a pale, nearly colorless face. Lina Oberlin had small, even features and a trim figure that could have been appealing in anything other than the plain gray pantsuit she wore. It was as if she’d deliberately set out to fade into the woodwork.

“That’s right...” she began, but Bart Gordon’s voice ran over hers like a steamroller.

“The idea of it. We’re the ones with a complaint. Here I was, giving the kid a second chance, and he goes and brings the worst kind of publicity down on the firm.”

Her brother was dead, and he was worried about publicity. Kate’s fingers tightened into fists. Before she could cut loose, she happened to catch a glimpse of the receptionist’s face. Avid, blatant curiosity—an eagerness, even, to see a drama unfolding in front of her.

And more, perhaps? If Nikki was glad to see the apparently forgotten situation raked up, that might mean she knew something.

“You don’t mean that.” Lina Oberlin’s voice seemed to hold a warning for her volatile boss. “I’m so sorry.” She touched Kate’s arm lightly. “We were all stunned by what happened to your brother. Jason was such a nice boy. I’m sure he was happy here. Perhaps you and I could have a quiet talk later?” She glanced at Gordon, as if to ensure that he wouldn’t burst out again.

“I’d appreciate that.” Kate let herself be led to the door. She couldn’t accomplish anything more here now, but she wasn’t dissatisfied with this first encounter. Outright anger was more revealing than bland sympathy.

Her presence angered Gordon. Why? And why did Lina Oberlin feel the need to intercede? Mere politeness, or something more?

And what about the receptionist? She’d have to make a point of talking to Nikki away from the office, little though she wanted to satisfy the girl’s keen curiosity. She didn’t doubt that if there was something to tell, Nikki would seize the chance to be involved.

CHAPTER THREE

THE FEW BELONGINGS Kate had brought with her were quickly unpacked and stowed away in the cottage. She slid a suitcase into the back of the bedroom closet to get it out of the way. The rest of her things had gone into storage in Baltimore.

She hadn’t taken anything from Tom Reilley’s house except for Jason’s things. The rest had gone to a sale. The fewer reminders of life there, the better, as far as she was concerned.

Jason had probably felt the same way when he’d left his father’s house for the last time. It couldn’t have held too many happy memories for him. Although she hoped he might have cherished, as she did, the after-school hours they’d spent at home together.

Kate walked back into the living room. The cottage was small and compact. The living room had just enough space for a television, sofa and chairs in one end and a bookcase and desk at the other, where she’d immediately set up her computer. Jason would no doubt have set up in the same place. He couldn’t bear to be off-line, and he wanted a laptop for gaming.

If a person liked cottage style, the place was perfectly decorated, with cheerful chintz fabric on the furniture, white end tables and Cape Cod curtains on the windows. There was a small kitchen with a nook for a table and chairs, and a bedroom and bath. The shrubbery and vines she’d noted on the outside increased a sense of isolation, especially where they brushed against the windows.