Deadly Secrets on Mackinac Island Page 13

  “Sounds fun.”

  The older man snorted then shook his head. “You always did have a sharp way with words.”

  If he only knew. That’s one thing that made her effective in the courtroom, but not so much in the studio.

  The meeting started, and Alanna held back her surprise when Jonathan didn’t sit at the table. Instead, he leaned against the wall, a position that looked more uncomfortable as the meeting droned on and he stifled a yawn. Alanna shifted against the seat, frowning as the faux leather squeaked. She felt like a kid again, trapped in another of Mr. Tomkins unending classes. It didn’t look like he intended to have any more mercy on her now than he did then.

  A yawn stretched her mouth, and she snagged a glance at her watch. Nine o’clock? No wonder it felt like she’d sat there forever and a day. She slumped back against the headrest.

  “Are we boring you, Alanna?” Mr. Tomkins pointed words jerked her upright.

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. Is there any other business?” He looked around the room, but everybody shook their heads until he reached Bette Standeford. “Yes?”

  “I thought we planned to discuss Mr. Covington’s proposal.”

  “That’s at the next meeting.”

  Jonathan straightened at his words, and a frown tugged his face down. “If we wait, I won’t have enough time to get everything implemented.”

  “Tonight we have to focus on the lilac festival. We’ve got to raise some money, or there won’t be anything left to give.”

  Mr. Hoffmeister leaned close to Alanna, the rich scent of chocolate making her stomach rumble. “That I don’t understand.”

  “What?”

  “I thought there was extra in the account before he took over.” Hoffmeister rubbed his eyes. “I’ve never much liked numbers. But Gerald’s comments have me rethinking the books.”

  Mr. Tomkin cleared his throat. “Anything you’d like to share, Tony?”

  Mr. Hoffmeister skewered Mr. Tomkin with a glare before waving his hand. “Not at the moment.”

  “We’ll wait with bated breath.”

  “I bet you will,” Mr. Hoffmeister muttered under his breath then glanced at Alanna. “Sorry about that. We can’t seem to have a civil conversation anymore thanks to his stupid house plans. The island has clear requirements for houses. . .but he’s above it all.” He stopped as if catching himself. “Well, come visit me.”

  Alanna nodded, keeping her eyes trained on her old teacher. “Not tonight.”

  “As soon as you can. There are things we should discuss.” He stood and edged toward the door. “See you at the next meeting. These old bones have to get home if I’m going to work tomorrow. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

  The others took that as their opportunity to escape, too. In a few minutes, the room had emptied, but Alanna remained. Where before she thought the meeting would never end, now she wondered what game Mr. Tomkin was up to and why he’d insisted she attend.

  18

  There’s something I don’t understand.”

  Mr. Tomkin didn’t turn from where he stood at the whiteboard working the eraser back and forth across the smooth surface. Alanna waited a moment. Why ignore her?

  “You don’t need me.” She glanced around the now-empty boardroom. “The brightest people who live here serve on the board. I don’t add anything.”

  “You’re wrong.” He turned toward her and propped his hands on the table. A furrow lined the top of his nose. “Something strange is going on, and we need someone who can dig.

  “Why me? I’ve been gone years. You’re the local stalwart.”

  “True.” Something glinted in his expression as he leaned closer. “It has drawbacks. I’ve made my share of enemies. People who think I created the problems. You’re an outsider, just what we need.”

  She could see that. The man seemed pricklier under the surface than when she’d known him. “I really don’t have time. . .and won’t be here long.”

  “Sure you do. What do you have to do after the studio closes. . .unless you’re spending all your time with Covington?” She bristled as his tone scraped over her. He crossed his arms and stared her down. “Even then this doesn’t require much. Just the skills lawyers have. Here.” He walked to a stack of books. “I just need you to review these.”

  Alanna looked down at her stenographer’s notebook. As he’d talked, she’d doodled a series of interlocking circles. That summed up life on Mackinac. The island was small enough the people and events that tried to remain separate ended up bound together, like the ripples a stone makes in the water circling ever outward.

  He must have noticed her distraction. He sighed. “It’s late now. I’ll stop by tomorrow with these.”

  “All right.” She’d like to stop him, but he’d aroused her curiosity. She wanted to know what those books contained.

  A stiff wind blew off the lake as she exited the building. Twilight had melted into darkness, and she wished she’d grabbed her bike rather than walking. Now she’d have to swing by the studio before working her way home. She glanced around, half expecting Jonathan to be waiting near the streetlight, but he wasn’t. She shook away the disappointment. He hadn’t promised he’d wait. She’d hoped though.

  She stuck to Main Street where there would be more people and the streetlights cast wide circles of light. Soon the sound of music slipped from the restaurants, and a man stumbled from the first one she passed.

  “Hey, gorgeous. Just who I was looking for.” He tripped into her path, and she stepped onto the street to avoid him. One of the taxis pulled to a quick stop behind her, and she raised a hand in apology as she continued on her way. She kept her steps quick and her eyes locked in front of her as she stepped back on the sidewalk. Many of the stores were dark, and she wished for a bit more traffic as she heard the man bumbling behind her. His movements didn’t sound coordinated enough to be a threat, but she kept her eyes peeled for a police officer on bicycle.

  Even though she’d decided to discourage Jonathan, right about now she’d love to have him beside her. His strong presence and broad shoulders would deter many from bothering her.

  Now she felt exposed. Vulnerable. Alone.

  A shiver skittered up her spine, and she picked up her pace. Light poured from several more restaurants, but still no sign of an officer. As she passed I’m Not Sharing Fudge Shop, she glanced in. Mr. Hoffmeister sat on his stool talking to someone on the phone. She waved, but he didn’t notice.

  Alanna picked up her pace and crossed the street. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the drunk slouched beneath a light-post. While his posture said inebriated, his gaze had locked on her. She tossed her hair and scurried around the corner out of his line of sight. Once she reached her bike, she could leave him far behind and hurry home. Did he have anything to do with what happened in her storage shed? She shook the thought free.

  All she wanted was the sanctuary inside her childhood home.

  Jonathan let the night embrace him as he sat on the rocking chair. His heavy fleece parka kept him warm in the cool air as long as he buried his hands in its pockets. The house next door looked empty from what he could tell through the trees. Should he have waited?

  Maybe he’d misinterpreted her signals that she wanted him to leave her alone.

  It rankled, but he’d honor it. Didn’t mean he had to relax before she made it home. He’d feel ridiculous if she’d slipped in and was tucked in her bed sound asleep while he played night watchman. He could think of a few choice things to call himself, including fool.

  He rubbed his neck where the breeze snuck under his collar. Kind of like how Alanna had slipped under his guard. Amazing how one could spend eleven years actively forgetting someone, only to have the walls tumble down the moment she reappeared.

  The cicadas sang their lullaby, loud and in tune. The faint scent of pine slipped around him as the trees rustled. He glanced at the Indiglo symbols on his watch. He’d give her fifteen more minu
tes then call to make sure he hadn’t missed her.

  The evening had wasted his time, plain and simple. He couldn’t identify Gerald’s game, but it annoyed him. He’d joined the foundation board before Gerald became president. Ever since he could make better use of his time at home. Then to have Gerald delay any decision on his proposal. . . Jonathan had to force his anger back. He wouldn’t jump too many more times for the man.

  In fact, if he invested more time in working with the island’s many bed-and-breakfasts, he’d land plenty of new projects. And it wouldn’t mean the silly games the older man threw around in some twisted power play. Come on, this was a small town on a small island. There were much bigger things to invest his time in than a tug-of-war over who had the last say.

  Something crunched on the road. He stood and took a step to the edge of the porch. Was that Alanna?

  He toyed with acting nonchalant and ignoring the sound, but he needed to know she was okay. Gerald had something on her, but Jonathan didn’t think she knew it yet.

  He rubbed his hands over his head. Time to get a haircut. But that would mean stopping by the Grand and seeing Jaclyn. Right now he didn’t want the complication. He bit back a yawn. When had she become a complication in his life?

  He didn’t want to answer, so he walked down the path to the road. His steps crunched through the debris of fallen leaves and branches. He wouldn’t sneak up on whoever worked their way up the road. It was too dark to see much, except what the small light on the approaching bike illuminated. The bike turned onto the drive to the Stone home.

  Slowly he released a breath. At least now he knew she was home.

  He glanced at his watch again and frowned. Alanna shouldn’t be this late. What could he do? She didn’t want him to be her protector. “Jonathan?” The word carried like a whisper over the stillness. The song of peepers filled the quiet. In the morning, he should get down to the pond, see what changes had occurred as spring reached the island. Sounds crunched his direction, and he waited.

  A soft sigh filtered toward him, and Alanna leaned against the split-wood fence lining the road.

  “Long night?”

  “Long week.” Her shoulders were pushed forward as if by unseen forces. “I never should have come back.”

  Not this old argument. He’d tired of it. “Really? We all face the past.”

  “But I’m learning things. Things that change what I’ve always thought.” She scrubbed her face with her hands. “I’m not making sense. That’s part of the problem. Nothing adds up.”

  Jonathan considered the faint outline of her profile. Her shoulders slumped in a defeated slant. He stepped closer as he thought about how to respond. “Have you talked to your mom?

  “No.” She snorted. “Reaching her right now is like calling the president. No one’s answering when the number’s mine.” She pulled straight. “Can I ask you a question?”

  He nodded then realized she might not be watching. “Sure.”

  “What would you do if you caught your family in a lie? One that doesn’t necessarily hurt anybody, but it’s still a lie?”

  “Depends.”

  She didn’t respond at first, but he held his tongue. How much did she want to know what he thought?

  “That’s the great wisdom you have to offer?”

  He turned toward her and brushed his fingers along her jaw, noting the way she shivered. “Alanna, there s a lot about my family I would change. Some days we get along, other days we can hardly stand each other. But we’re family. So I put up with some things. Most of what we do impacts nobody else. If my sister did something that hurt others, then I’d have to say something. Or if she hurt herself, I’d speak up. It’s part of being family.”

  “But it’s not hurting anyone else.” Her words didn’t have the fierceness that came with conviction. “And I can’t anticipate the consequences.”

  “What do you mean, consequences?”

  “I’m not sure.” She sighed and pulled back from his touch. His fingers felt chilled by her absence. “But that’s my problem.”

  "You’re an attorney. A good one. You can figure out the consequences. But I think you already know what you need to do.”

  “It doesn’t mean I like it.”

  He chuckled at the fight in her tone. “True. But aren’t families worth fighting for?”

  She pushed from the fence and took a step toward home. “Thanks.”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  “Yeah, friends.” She brushed hair from her face as she paused a few steps away. “I’ve meant to ask, did you ever catch Grandpappy?”

  Her question surprised him. Grandpappy? “You remember that old fish?”

  “The one that always got away?” A smile colored her words. “Of course. I take it you never caught him?”

  “I didn’t have my good-luck charm.”

  “I haven’t been that for a long time.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Jonathan.”

  Jonathan stood there, rooted by the sensation of her quick kiss as she melted into the shadows. How much closeness could he handle?

  The sound of her bike moving up to the house followed by the click of her door echoed in the stillness. He leaned against the fence as waves of memories crashed over him. The times they’d sat on the small dock “fishing” as an excuse to spend time together. He’d use worms while she pretended to fish with marshmallows. They’d sit shoulder to shoulder, ready to reel in the fish that lived in the pond, the descendants of the fish he and his grandpa had initially stocked the pond with.

  At the time, he’d thought they’d spend the rest of their lives shoulder to shoulder, taking on the world.

  Another dynamic duo. Poised to change the world.

  Then life happened. The world changed.

  And so did they.

  19

  Alanna leaned against the door. What had she been thinking? Kissing Jonathan, even if on the cheek?

  She covered her face with her hands and sank to the floor. She felt drained, exhausted. Yet her mind whirled. If she didn’t get some rest, the next day would be a nightmare. But all she could think of was her ridiculous question. Grandpappy? The island had muddled her brain. Why else would she ask about a fish? A fish?

  That sealed it. If Jonathan hadn’t already decided he was better off without her, she’d left no doubts. Who would want to be with a woman who focused on a fish that had probably died years ago when her family overflowed with liars? Especially when she wasn’t sure she wanted to confront them and bring the truth to light.

  Her mind hurt from the implications. At some point her mom had started selling her brother’s art as hers. She must add her signature to the corner after the paintings arrived. Alanna didn’t know whether she should hope Trevor knew about it or if she wanted him to be oblivious to the fact the paintings weren’t sold as his. But she couldn’t imagine her mom doing something like that.

  Alanna pulled her knees up and lowered her forehead to rest on top of them. Cold seeped through the floor into her seat, but she didn’t move.

  Her parents had dragged them to church growing up, but the extent of any faith seemed to end at the church doors. And many cold winter mornings, it had been easier to stay home than trek via snowmobile. It wasn’t until she started college and searched for answers to the mess of her life that she found a personal relationship with God.

  In the years since, she hadn’t probed the depths of her parents’ faith. In the short pockets of time she had with them, it hadn’t seemed important. Now. . .

  Now she wished she’d pushed.

  Because as things stood, she couldn’t imagine how to start the conversation. So, Mom, how long have you defrauded the world? That couldn’t end well.

  God, give me wisdom.

  A way to turn the problem around existed. She just needed to think creatively. That’s how she handled clients’ legal problems. Look at the situation from every possible angle. Examine it until she could fin
ally find one that minimized the potential problems. The one that put them in the best possible position.

  That’s what she’d do. Pretend her family was her client. For the moment, she’d ignore the fact that if she truly represented them, she’d have to choose, since a conflict existed between her mom and brother. That complicated the matter too much.

  A yawn stretched her mouth to the point her jaw popped. Tomorrow she’d research the legal issues. Now she’d sleep.

  The next morning when the shop stood quiet, Alanna turned on the computer and prepared to dive into the legal issues. Each time Alanna opened the search engine, her fingers froze, poised over the keys. If she started searching, she’d confirm the problem. She clicked over to LexisNexis and entered a search string. Hundreds of cases pulled up. This could take forever. She glanced around the studio. Guess it was a good thing the shop remained empty.

  Alanna pulled up the first case and scanned the facts. Not relevant. She’d worked her way through the first twenty when the door opened.

  Police Chief Ryan stopped just inside the door. “Miss Stone.”

  “Hello, Chief.” She swallowed and tried to smile. “Do you know anything?”

  “The trap was wiped clean. Without something there, we don’t have much to investigate.”

  “Nobody else have an unpleasant surprise like this?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Alanna nodded. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “Easy enough to do. Wish I had better news.” He slipped back out the door before Alanna could say anything else.

  She turned back to the cases and read a few more before the door opened again.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  Alanna’s head jerked up at her mother’s voice. “Mom?”

  “Yes, ma’am. In the flesh.” Rachelle Stone looked like a radiant rose with her strawberry-blond hair piled in a loose chignon and an evergreen trench coat laced tight around her waist. Only the dark circles under her violet eyes gave any indication of her trials.