Part 18 (1/2)
BEAU STOOD at his office window, waiting. He really did have one h.e.l.l of a view.
”You wanted to see me?”
He turned to look at his brother standing in the office doorway. Carl was wearing a Western s.h.i.+rt, jeans, boots. His gray hair needed to be cut and his white Stetson cleaned. Carl Bonner looked nothing like the multi-millionaire he was.
Beau instantly regretted calling his brother into the office. Mason was wrong. Carl had more money than he would ever use. Nor was he apt to dream up some lame kidnapping plot that had failed to get a million and a half out of Beau anymore than he would give Dixie the jewelry box hoping she would find the photographs inside.
Because that would mean that Carl knew about the photos. Knew about Sarah's past. And how was that possible?
”Thought you might like to join me in a drink,” Beau said, and motioned his brother in.
”Little early for me,” Carl said, but closed the door and entered the office. ”What's up?”
Beau poured himself a Scotch, figuring he was going to need it. ”I wanted to ask you about Dixie.”
”Dixie?” Carl said, frowning.
”Have you seen her?”
”Not for a while. Is something wrong?”
Beau took his drink back to his desk and sat, motioning for Carl to do the same. ”She's in Montana.”
Carl's brows lifted as he took a seat. ”What's she doing up there?”
”Trying to find out more about her mother's family,” Beau said, sorry to hear his words edged with criticism.
Carl nodded. ”Bound to happen.”
Beau opened his mouth to argue the point and closed it. He didn't want to fight about this. ”She found some photographs in that jewelry box you gave her.”
Carl frowned. ”Photographs?”
”Apparently from Sarah's life before me,” Beau said.
”You didn't know she kept them?”
”No. Did you?”
”What are you asking?” Carl said quietly.
What was he asking? What possible reason would Carl have for purposely giving Dixie her mother's jewelry box if he knew there were old photos hidden inside? None. Carl wouldn't want to hurt the girls. Not only that, Dixie'd had the jewelry box for years and had only just now found the photographs.
Beau rubbed his temples feeling a headache coming on. ”Never mind me. I'm just in a foul mood.” He'd made the mistake of not telling Dixie the truth straightaway. Instead all he'd done was whet her curiosity and when Dixie got on the scent of what she thought was a secret, she was like a hound dog after a buried bone.
”Sarah had a sister,” Beau said. ”She never mentioned it to me, but Dixie found out somehow.”
Carl shook his head and said nothing.
”What?” Beau demanded.
”Nothing, it's just that you knew Sarah had a life before you.”
”I didn't care about her past,” Beau snapped, not wanting to admit that Sarah had lied to him. Maybe that's what hurt the most.
”I remember the night the two of you met,” Carl said.
Beau felt all the air rush from him. He swallowed hard, picked up his drink and downed it. He'd forgotten about the first time he'd seen her.
CHANCE STARED UP at Glendora's apartment building windows as the body was loaded into the ambulance. Christmas lights strung across the front entry slapped the side of the house in the wind. A piece of newspaper blew by. Somewhere in the distance a horn honked, brakes squealed.
”Come on, let's get out of here,” Chance said, steering Dixie toward the pickup, all the time watching the street and residences around them. For all he knew, the killer might be watching them at this very moment.
”You know she didn't fall down the stairs.”
He could hear the anguish in her voice. The woman had been her aunt. Dixie had promised to send pictures of Rebecca's children to her. He put his arm around her as they neared the pickup.
”I'm so sorry, but it could have been an accident. You heard them say the elevator wasn't working,” he said.
Dixie shook off his arm and climbed into the pickup. As he slid behind the wheel, she snapped, ”Do me a favor. Stop trying to protect me from the truth.”
”I don't know what the truth is and neither do you,” he said as he watched the crowd disa.s.semble and the cops leave. ”We probably will never know what really happened to her.”
”I led a killer straight to her. I just as good as murdered her,” Dixie said.
He looked over at her, seeing how hurt and angry and scared she was. ”Dixie, this isn't your fault.”
”If I hadn't found those photographs in my mother's jewelry box...”
”Your mother kept them obviously because she couldn't part with them and had no idea that someday you would find them and this would happen,” he said. ”What you're not considering is that the man in the photograph has known about Glendora for years.”
”Maybe he didn't know where she was, though, until I led him to her.”
Chance shook his head. ”It doesn't make any sense. Why kill Glendora? What did she really know? That Rebecca was another man's child? She didn't even know the man's real name. The photos were gone. So why kill her? We'd already been there. She'd already told us everything she knew.”
Dixie knew what he was saying was true. It didn't make any sense. She took the photographs from her purse and studied them again. ”He's tying up all the loose ends, probably wis.h.i.+ng he'd done it years ago. But now maybe he has has to.” She looked over at Chance. ”For whatever reason, he is more desperate to keep that life a secret.” to.” She looked over at Chance. ”For whatever reason, he is more desperate to keep that life a secret.”
”To protect himself?” Chance asked. ”Or someone else?”
She shook her head. ”Rebecca's his illegitimate daughter. What if he doesn't want her to know who he is?”
”Maybe.”
”And why did my mother change her name from Elizabeth Worth to Sarah Worth when she went to Texas?”