Duplicity--A Tale of Murder Mystery and Romance Read online

  Shivering, she pushed her thoughts to the evening ahead. Her mood didn’t lift. Dinner with her parents was always an ordeal. She didn’t know why. All her life, they’d supported her. Maybe she was just discontent, a selfish emotion, to say the least, considering what life had given her.

  She glanced down at her jeans and realized faded denim was out for tonight. Before she went home to change, she’d have to stop by the drug store down the street for some shampoo. She’d completely run out.

  Head bent, still focused on her legs, she slammed into something hard. The air left her lungs in one loud whoosh. She stumbled. Tilting precariously on the heels of her feet, she grabbed for something solid and found a jacket. She dug her fingers around hard-muscled biceps and held on. An arm swept around her back and pulled her up against an unyielding chest, while her legs tangled with strong, solid legs.

  Oh, my.

  Katherine caught a glimpse of a strong throat and a wide, clean-shaven jaw. The light from a store window illuminated the most incredible gray eyes she’d ever seen. They were rimmed silver and flecked with charcoal closer to the pupil. His breath, scented with peppermint, brushed against her cheek.

  Then he stepped backward, and she stood alone, shaken, unharmed, but unable to look away.

  The same light touched his skin to smooth honey and glittered off his brown hair, highlighting their strands to warm mahogany. He had a strong, angular, almost austere face with a hard, inflexible jaw. He looked exactly the way Katherine had always envisioned a man should look like.

  He brushed away a thatch of hair, but it fell back against his brow. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?”

  His crooked smile did strange things to her pulse. Absently, she rubbed a hand along the strap of her purse draped over her shoulder. “I’m fine.”

  He nodded, then bent down and picked up a pair of thick-framed glasses that must have fallen to the ground from their collision. Slipping them on, he paused with his hands by his ears and peered down at her.

  There was something about his expression Katherine couldn’t quite make out—almost a mixture of curiosity and caution.

  “Have we... Do I...”

  “Do you what?” she prompted.

  “It’s just that—” A muscle pulsed along the ridge of his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Okaaay.” She nodded. “Sorry about your glasses.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “I really should get them tightened. They have this terrible habit of falling off my nose.”

  “Yes, well—”

  “Oh...of course. Excuse me.”

  He stepped aside and nodded as she walked past. She felt his gaze along the length of her—how else could she explain the prickle of awareness across the base of her neck? But she stopped herself from looking over her shoulder and double-checking.

  Incredibly handsome, but very strange. He’d acted like he knew her. She slowed on the sidewalk and almost knocked into another pedestrian when she tried to remember what she was supposed to be doing.

  Oh, yes. Shampoo. She needed to get some. Her stride determined, she walked the rest of the block to the drug store.

  After completing her purchase, Katherine rushed home, showered, applied a thin layer of makeup and changed into a black, Ann Demeulemeester, stretch rayon dress. Then she swept her hair into a loose bun, grabbed a suede jacket and left the house. Key in hand, she hurried to her car and saw Ethan, her neighbor, getting out of his own vehicle two parking spaces away from her Mazda.

  “Hey, gorgeous. Where are you off to?”

  “Dinner with my parents.”

  “And here I thought you had a hot date.”

  “No such luck.” She smiled. “Want to join me?”

  Ethan laughed and shook his head as he walked over to her. “Oh, no you don’t, Katherine. The last time you dragged me there, they found out what type of marriage material I was. I could have sworn I saw your mother’s face lose a couple of shades of color.”

  “Sorry. My mother’s in a phase where she thinks I should be married with children, or at the very least have a couple of prospects lined up.”

  “Ah, mothers. Don’t we just love ’em?” With an index finger, he flicked a loose strand of hair that had slipped from her bun. “How about skipping the parents and instead the two of us go wild tonight? Dancing, dinner, and later we can steam up my car windows with some heavy necking.”

  “And what about Ken? I don’t think he’d like me moving in on his territory.”

  Ethan appeared to think about it. “Maybe another time. He can get a bit jealous.”

  She chuckled. “That’s what happens when you date a younger man. It’s called high maintenance.” She turned serious. “Well, I’ve got to rush. Otherwise, I’ll be later than I already am.”

  Something Katherine didn’t want to be—not when it came to her mother.

  ~~*~~

  Clark stood beneath the shadows of an old elm tree and watched the couple from a distance.

  After crossing the country from Arizona—Clark still didn’t have a clue why he’d ended up in the mountains there—he’d checked into a hotel in Boston and searched for the address on his driver’s license. He didn’t find a house but a three-story building, which housed the local newspaper. Frustrated, he’d gone inside The Boston Globe and almost got kicked out by the security guard when he insisted on talking to someone.

  He’d next looked up the Morning Dove in the phone book and came up with another address. This one held a hell of a lot more promise. He’d immediately recognized the building as the one in the teenager’s photograph. He didn’t know if he’d once walked through the doors—it didn’t feel like it—but a strange sense of foreboding had grabbed at his insides when he’d first spied the building.

  Then he’d stumbled into the blonde, and when he’d seen her face, he realized she was the woman in the photo. And the oddest part, he’d felt a connection, as if he’d known her. But if so, then why hadn’t she acknowledged him? It didn’t make sense.

  Not about to let the woman get away without uncovering something about her, he’d follow her here to skulk behind a tree and watch for...he didn’t know what.

  “Katherine,” he whispered, repeating the name the man had called her.

  Suddenly, Clark stiffened and flattened a palm against the rough bark of the elm. A vision of the past flashed across his mind’s eye. He saw Katherine grin up at the sky and toss her thick, blonde hair over her shoulder as she rocked back on her heels. She stood talking to a tall, heavy-set man in front of a gray brick building. The man rubbed an affectionate hand against her shoulder and said something undecipherable. Clark tried to grasp more from the memory, but the image vanished as quickly as it had appeared. But he recognized the place as the shelter.

  Why? Why did he remember that and nothing else? What was it about her and the Morning Dove’s Youth Shelter for the Homeless? Or was this sudden memory a false image fabricated because of the photograph? All three questions kicked at his gut and elevated his blood pressure.

  Patience. Clark needed to remember that. In time, he’d find out, but right now he’d watch and wait, and weigh every situation that crossed his path. But then, Clark thought of the wrecked car, the dead teen with a bullet hole, how close he’d eluded death. He couldn’t afford to be patient. Not when he needed to find out if a murderer was running loose.

  Hell. He might be a walking target. Tomorrow, he could find himself facing the person who killed the teenager and not know it. Or—worse yet—he might be the murderer.

  A cold breeze kicked up snow and whirled it around his ankles. Shivering, Clark stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and watched Katherine wave goodbye before she unlocked and opened her car door.

  Clark couldn’t get over the change in her. Less than a couple of hours ago, she’d looked like a college student with her braid and glowing complexion. Now her appearance and whole demeanor screamed elegance, confidence, allure.

  Katherine was a paradox.

  She also might be connected to the murder in Arizona, which didn’t make sense. Not when she’d behaved as if she’d never seen him before. Unless...acting came as naturally as breathing to her. Clark frowned. The idea of her angelic face hiding something immoral and ugly didn’t seem fitting.

  Finally, after Katherine guided her car onto the street and disappeared from sight and her friend slipped inside one of several two-story townhomes, Clark stepped from the shadows. Overgrown elms and the soft glow of lantern-type streetlights hinted at red-bricked walls and gave the complex an old-world charm. A thick layer of snow tinted yellow-gold covered the sloped roofs and blanketed the common area. The place was new and upscale, and nothing about it looked familiar.

  Damn. What did he do now? Introduce himself and start asking Katherine questions? Yeah, right. If she didn’t run the minute he opened his mouth and confirmed his lunacy, she might pull a gun and splatter his brains everywhere.

  Clark crossed the snow-covered lawn to the shoveled walkway and noticed the for rent sign on the lawn of one of the townhouses. The lights were off, and when he didn’t see any signs of occupancy, he walked over and peered into a side window. The glow of one of the street lamps illuminated what appeared to be an empty bedroom. He hoped the owner hadn’t found a renter yet. The townhouse would be perfect.

  What better way to keep an eye on Katherine and not look like he stalked her every move? Plus, he needed a place to stay. He didn’t want to live in a hotel indefinitely. And as to credit references, he could bypass that. Cash was a seductive incentive.

  He’d look into it tomorrow.

  Chapter 3

  Double-checking her hair and anchoring her bun more securely with a bobby pin, Katherine paused
at the front door of her parents’ home. Then she stepped inside, draped her jacket and purse across the antique coat rack in the corner of the foyer, and followed the sound of voices coming from the dining room. They’d started without her.

  When she walked into the dining room, five people turned to stare at her. Her father, Alex, sat at the head of the table, while her mother, Sharon, and her Uncle Paul bracketed his sides. Paul’s son, David, and David’s wife, Rachel, sat along the same side of the table as her mother. The only place setting available rested to her uncle’s right. What luck.

  The thick brocade drapes had been closed for the evening, while the muted light from the chandelier encompassed the room in an intimate glow and accentuated the smooth walnut table and gold leaf china.

  Sharon raised a disapproving eyebrow. “You’re late.”

  Her mother didn’t add ‘as usual’, but Katherine heard the unspoken censure nonetheless as she sank down into the chair beside Paul. She wasn’t going to feel guilty. Not tonight, at least.

  “Sorry,” she found herself still apologizing.

  “You haven’t missed anything,” her father claimed. “Unless you find a detailed discussion on several blue-chip stocks fascinating?” At her look, he smiled. “I didn’t think so.”

  Her father and uncle were similarly dressed in dove white shirts, dark suits and power ties. Their clothing might be similar, but their looks were anything but. Her father, Alex, was blond-haired, blue-eyed and tanned, while his brother, Paul, was dark-eyed, pale and had inherited the dreaded male patterned baldness from his mother’s side of the family.

  Her father hadn’t changed much over the years. Because of a rigorous workout regimen each day and a capable plastic surgeon, the only signs of aging were a thickened waist and faint crow’s feet. Time hadn’t been so forgiving to his brother—or maybe Paul had never been concerned with appearances like his brother. As far back as she could remember, Paul had always seemed to have a harried look about him, more so since his wife’s death five years ago. A sagging jaw, fleshy arms and legs attested to too many hours behind a desk and little else.

  Minutes later, Diana, the Spalding’s housekeeper and cook, wheeled in a cloth-draped trolley. She set a traditional Caesar salad before Katherine and replaced the empty salad plates with steaming caramelized mashed potatoes, grilled filet of beef and parslied carrots. The aroma twisted Katherine’s stomach into a knot of hunger. She’d almost forgotten Diana’s extraordinary culinary talents.

  “How was your week, dear?”

  As Diana poured a glass of wine for her, Katherine glanced across the table to her mother. At fifty-five, Sharon looked as good or better than a decade ago. Her updated hairstyle, short, wispy and feminine, complimented her large brown eyes and the smooth sweep of her nose and jaw. The dark gray suit and white, linen blouse were a typical example of her wardrobe—understated, conservative yet stylish. In all honesty, Katherine couldn’t remember a time when her mother wasn’t impeccably groomed. But then looks were paramount in her line of work. Image meant everything to her mother, from her leather pumps to her frosted hair.

  “Frustrating.”

  “Oh, why’s that?” Alex asked.

  Katherine unfolded her napkin and placed it across her lap. “We have another missing teenager on our hands. That’s three in the last year. Three I thought were going to be success stories. Then it looks like one of our financial backers is withdrawing his support. It wouldn’t bother me so much, but this is the second company in a month that has decided to cut their ties with Morning Dove. I need funding from the private sector. The shelter can’t survive on government subsidies alone.” She smiled to lighten the mood. “It’s all so strange that it’s happening at once. If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone had it in for the shelter.”

  “That’s a shame,” her father murmured. “But I’m sure you’ll find another company willing to support the home.”

  “I’m sure I can—given time.” Katherine sighed. “I don’t like asking, Mother, but would you be willing to talk to Kincaid?”

  “I’ll see what I can do, dear, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “Really, Katherine.” Her father wiped a corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin. “You shouldn’t ask that of your mother. You’re putting her in an awkward position.”

  Knowing he had a point, Katherine nodded and glanced over to her uncle. He wasn’t an option. Several times over the course of two years she’d hinted for help from his company, Miltronics, but nothing had come of it. Asking now would be like beating a dead horse, so she didn’t even try. Sighing, she stabbed a Romaine leaf with her fork.

  “Didn’t you have financial problems when you first opened? And everything worked out fine then.” Alex smiled with encouragement. “You’ll come up on top this time, too.”

  “I know she will,” Sharon said. “I think it’s admirable how she spends her time.” She met Katherine’s gaze across the table. “Think what you could do if you had a wider vision. With your energy and enthusiasm, you’d be such a success in politics. You’re young, your education’s impeccable. You’d just have to focus in a different direction. Of course, there’s the one drawback of being single ...”

  Katherine shifted in her chair and set her fork down. The salad had lost its appeal.

  Alex placed a hand across her mother’s wrist. “We’ve been over this before.”

  “There’s always hope.”

  Katherine lifted her chin. “I’ve never been interested in politics, and there’s nothing wrong with being single. But then again, now that you’ve mentioned it, several bachelors have caught my eye. There’s Ethan, of course. You’ve already met him. He’s suave, attractive—”

  Sharon’s eyes turned cold. “That’s enough. I find that far from funny.”

  Katherine flushed.

  “I love your dress, Katherine,” Rachel broke into the awkward silence.

  Katherine plucked at the cuff of her sleeve. “Thank you.”

  “We have to go shopping together soon. I’m sure it’s been ages since the last time. God knows, David hates it when I drag him along.”

  “That’s not true,” David protested with a half-smile.

  “Always the diplomat,” Rachel teased. “That’s why you’re so good at what you do, and why I married you.”

  Rachel patted her husband’s forearm. The bulky diamond ring on her left hand sparkled against the chandelier’s light and reminded Katherine how fate and fortune had touched a benevolent hand on all their lives. For three generations, the Spalding wealth had cushioned their failings, indulged their whims, and offered them opportunities given to very few, and she knew every person at this table had taken it for granted—including herself.

  But tonight she felt like an outsider, an imposter. While she had the best food, the best clothing, the best home, the temperature outside was falling below freezing. No doubt, a woman, vulnerable, in need of medical attention, slept somewhere in a cardboard box. A teenage boy wandered the streets, prostituting himself to get his next fix of heroin so he could hide from the pain of his past.

  Jason McFadden walked into the room.

  “Senator. There’s a call from Representative Harlow. He’s apologized for the intrusion, but he’s concerned about the Carmel bill and needs to discuss a few issues with you before tomorrow morning.”

  Sharon’s lips tightened with displeasure as she rose gracefully from her chair. “Excuse me.”

  Katherine watched her mother follow her personal assistant from the room, then turned back to her meal.

  “You shouldn’t bait your mother like that.”

  The distinct sound of a cell phone saved her from a reply.

  Paul reached for his waist and unsnapped his phone from its leather case. “Hello. What? Are you sure?”

  Paul rose abruptly. His napkin fluttered to his feet, while his chair crashed to the floor.

  Katherine jumped, spilling several drops of Beaujolais on her hand.

  “Are you at the scene? How bad is it?”

  She raised a brow and met her father’s gaze across the table. He shook his head and shrugged.

  Paul disconnected the call, and, with a fumbling hand, pushed his phone back inside its case.

  “Is there a problem?” her father asked.