A Secret To Tell You. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ safe place.” She slammed down the phone and didn’t pick up again although it continued to ring. After it finally went silent, she called Robyn, but got her friend’s answering machine.

      “Hey, Robyn, it’s April. I left those old letters in your safe. I’ll come by in the next day or so to get them, okay? Meanwhile, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention them to anyone. Not even friends. Above all, don’t let Eric, or anyone from his paper, know you’ve got them. If you have questions, I’m here working on the house.”

      

      Quinn had to get out in the rain and fiddle with the gate to make it lock. That only added to his frustration over having his mission thwarted. He hated coming home empty-handed. Especially since he was no closer to knowing what was going on with his grandmother and those letters than when he’d first learned of their existence.

      It was after eight-thirty when he took off his muddy shoes and used his key to enter the big house. His grandmother had wanted to move into the smaller of the two homes after her son’s plane crashed. She’d begged Quinn to sell his and Amy’s modest house in the suburb and move into the mansion. The so-called cottage out back was where his folks had lived. His mom babysat Hayley while Quinn’s wife, Amy, worked for the family firm. Even at Hayley’s young age, Quinn had decided she’d feel less traumatized in more familiar quarters, so he’d moved them into the smaller house.

      Two things had saved all six of them from going down on that plane. Hayley had come down with chicken pox, and the court had moved up a murder trial Quinn had been handling.

      He rarely let himself think about the events that had led up to the accident. It had rained that night, too. He hadn’t wanted to go on the trip, and felt guilty ever since, which might be why he felt driven to go after the senate seat his dad had dreamed of one day winning.

      Norma rose from the flowered couch where she sat next to Quinn’s sleeping daughter. That, too, reminded him of that long-ago evening. Did his grandmother share his twinges of guilt? After all, she’d volunteered to stay behind with the itchy, irritable toddler so Amy wouldn’t have to give up relaxing at the condo on Hilton Head.

      Tonight, unlike the night her mother and grandparents were killed, Hayley had fallen into an easy sleep watching TV. Norma had thrown one of the many afghans she’d knit over Hayley.

      If Quinn had planned for a late night, Norma would’ve tucked Hayley into the bedroom upstairs that he’d furnished with a canopy bed exactly like the one in her room at home. With his job as attorney and now as a serious U.S. Senate candidate, it seemed that she slept here more than at home. Quinn suffered plenty of guilt over that.

      “Mercy, Quinn, you’re soaked. And where are your shoes?”

      “I left them on the porch. It was muddy out at the farm. Also, when I got home, the front gate acted up. I had to climb around the ditch and jiggle the electronic eye. I’m not sure if it’s the same problem Joseph mentioned. I’ll call the company tomorrow, and have them check the entire security system. It’s because the gate was open that April Trent was able to march right up to the house.”

      “That irritating system was something your grandfather insisted on before we moved to this house. It was the beginning of his paranoia.”

      “Paranoia? Aren’t you exaggerating a bit?”

      “No, Quinn. I thought you knew he started drinking heavily when your dad was Hayley’s age. That’s when he hired Joseph to drive me to town, and Brett to school, among other eccentric whims.”

      “Dad mentioned that Granddad had an alcohol problem. On the other hand, he worked for the government. Maybe he couldn’t be too careful. Since I’ve become a candidate for the senate, I worry about crazies. The world is full of them. Come to think of it, we don’t know whether April Trent’s one or not.”

      “I hate to be impatient, Quinn, but…where are the letters?”

      “I didn’t get them.”

      She looked panicked. “Why not?”

      “Because April Trent is cagier than I gave her credit for.”

      “Goodness, is she holding out for more than you’re willing to pay? I’ll pay anything within reason.”

      He shrugged. “She wouldn’t discuss how much she wants. When I asked to sit down and talk, she threatened to phone the cops. She wasn’t bluffing, either. I was afraid her reporter pal, Eric Lathrop, was waiting to pop out of the bushes with a camera. Wouldn’t that have been a great photo to see on the front page tomorrow? Along with headlines accusing Quinn Santini, U.S. Senate candidate, of harassing the daughter of a rival lawyer.”

      “Quinn, I really don’t think this has anything to do with you being a candidate.”

      “Really? Then what reason would she have for flatly refusing to name her top figure—or even a bottom line? And she had me at a disadvantage, after all. I have no idea what the letters are worth. Which brings me back to the question I asked you right after she flew out of here in the first place. What the hell are we dickering over anyway, Gram? Suppose I get a cup of coffee and dry off by the fire while you fill me in.”

      “I apologize for sending you out in a storm tonight, and for making you miss an opportunity to meet possible contributors to your campaign,” she said formally. “Thank you for putting yourself out. It was wrong of me to foist this matter off on you, busy as you are. I’m sorry if my desire to take a trip down memory lane caused you added anxiety. You have enough on your plate. Take Hayley home, and fix yourself a hot toddy. Try and relax.”

      He rubbed his forefinger and thumb down each side of his nose and over his lips, before sending his grandmother a long, contemplative look. “Earlier, when April Trent barged in with her ridiculous story, I had the feeling you believed it.”

      Norma twirled a well-kept hand that didn’t reflect her advanced years. “It’s just an old woman’s silliness. Off you go, Quinn. We won’t talk about this again.”

      More relieved than he was willing to admit, Quinn shook his head and bent to pick up his sleeping child, blanket and all. “I have to say it’s been one of my more interesting evenings. Probably more interesting than if I’d gone to Sam Hoerner’s bash.” He smiled wryly. “If you’ve been to one political cocktail party…”

      Norma aimed an equally wry smile in her grandson’s direction while preceding him to the door. “You wouldn’t listen to me. It’s the life you’ve let yourself in for.”

      Biting his tongue until she opened the door, Quinn ducked out, pulling on his mud-spattered shoes. “I certainly hope a senator’s job offers more excitement than sipping watered-down martinis and pretending to be interested in the cocktail chatter of bored suburban housewives who happen to have rich husbands.”

      “You’d better hope times have changed, Quinn. In my day, debutantes and wives of the wealthiest entrepreneurs were privy to high-level state secrets and they brought down many a powerful skeptic.”

      Quinn glanced back and flashed her a broad grin. “Spies, you mean? Like the rumors that floated around about Marlene Dietrich and Julia Child? Gram, if you believe that nonsense, you’re spending too much time watching late-night TV.”

      She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill and listened to his laughter fade as he disappeared into the rain. Going inside, she locked СКАЧАТЬ