Unmasking The Shadow Man. Debbie Herbert
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a huge secret on her teenage shoulders, without a word to anyone, as far as Harper could tell. Weren’t small towns supposed to be an open book where everybody knew everybody’s history and where gossip ran rampant?
But not a word of Presley’s pregnancy had been whispered about in the grapevine. Not that had gotten back to her, at any rate. Harper leaned forward, keeping her voice low. “Have you ever heard any rumors about Presley?”
Kimber blinked. “What kind of rumors? I mean, she’s been dead for years.”
“Before she died, did you ever hear talk of anything about her, um, sex life?”
“She dated Allen Spencer. Whether they slept together, I haven’t a clue. Why do you ask?”
Harper silently debated. What did it really matter after all these years? But Presley had kept her secret, and it didn’t seem right to spill the beans now. “Never mind. It’s not important. I’ve been going through old family stuff and it’s made me maudlin, I suppose.”
“Understandable. Your sister always kind of kept to herself. But I remember Presley as smart and very likable. Just don’t put her on a pedestal, though…after all, she was very young. Whatever it is you’ve found, if Presley was less than perfect, so what?” Kimber lightened the mood with a wink. “The two of us did plenty of questionable things as teenagers.”
“True enough. Guess I’m in an off mood as well. My house is still…unsettling.”
“The memories?” she asked sympathetically.
“Yeah. And other things… Sounds, senses…something. I know there has to be a logical explanation, but it gets to me.” Kimber was the only one she could talk to about it. Everyone else either shut her out or stared at her with eyes full of pity. She hated that look.
“Here y’all go.” Rhoda set down their food and drink. “Enjoy.”
“Breakfast of champions,” Harper grinned, biting into the doughnut.
Kimber stoically bit into her dry toast and downed it with a sip of black coffee. “I’m glad you texted about meeting this morning. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Harper raised her brows and kept eating.
“I have a proposition for you.” Kimber straightened, assuming her professional Realtor mantle. “As I said, your house presents certain challenges to a sale. Even though I know I could meet them, there’s a simpler solution to its marketability issues—I’d like to buy it.”
“Why?” She was taken aback at the offer. Kimber and Joe lived in a rambling old farmhouse outside town that they’d renovated into a showcase. It was her pride and joy. “Thought you loved your farmhouse.”
“Oh, we do. We have no plans to move. Your house would be an investment. I’ve studied the market carefully, and I believe I could turn it into a profitable bed-and-breakfast.”
An unexpected twinge of sadness swept through her. “You know, that’s what Dad always wanted to do with the place. Mom had started to warm to the idea before Presley died. She gave up on dreams after that.”
“I remember. That’s what gave me the idea. Besides making a nice profit, I figured it would be a blessing for you as well. A win-win. I’d buy it immediately, and you could return to Atlanta without worrying about selling it.” Kimber’s face brightened with enthusiasm. “Not only would the house be in good hands, but also it’d bring your dad’s dream to light.”
All true, so why didn’t the arrangement make her happy?
Kimber’s smile dimmed. “What’s wrong? You don’t like the idea?”
“It’s just unexpected.”
Kimber patted her hand. “If you don’t want to, no hard feelings. But think about it, okay? And, of course, I’d hire you to do all the decorating. That way, you’ll always have a presence there. Might even entice you to visit Baysville more often if you could spend the night in your old home.”
“You’re the best, Kimber. Let me consider it for a few days, and I’ll let you know.”
“Of course.”
She still wasn’t sold, which made no sense. Her friend’s offer would hasten cutting all ties to her hometown. Wasn’t that what she wanted? More people bustled in the diner, grabbing breakfast or coffee before heading to work. Several uniformed officers entered, and she recognized Liam and Bryce heading to the counter. At the sight of Liam’s tall figure, her heart kicked up its heels.
Kimber’s cell phone buzzed, and she picked it up, a slight frown tugging her face. “Business calls,” she said crisply. “I’ve got an unexpected client meeting. Sorry, I’ve got to run.”
“No problem. Quick question, though. This cleaning crew of yours, can they handle large jobs?”
“They’ve done everything from hauling off old furniture in vacated houses to fire damage renovation. Nothing’s too big or too small.”
Harper dug the spare house key out of her purse and slid it across the table to Kimber. “Consider them hired. I need a good set of muscles to haul off all of Dad’s old tools and benches in the basement. They can donate anything in good condition to charity and dump the rest. Stop by anytime and go down there to assess the fee. I don’t need to be home.”
“I’ll do it today,” Kimber promised. After they made a dinner date for later in the week, she bustled off. Harper watched through the window as she quickly walked to her car and climbed inside. Sell the house to Kimber? She tried to convince herself to accept the offer. It was the rational move to make, and yet…
“Harper?” Liam approached her booth. “May I join you?”
“Please do.” He slid in opposite her, and his gray eyes bored into hers, as if he could read all her secrets.
Bryce stopped by the booth. “Morning, Harper. Any more threatening emails or unexplained noises?”
Several customers shifted their gazes to them, and her face warmed. Did he have to boom out the question within earshot of so many people? “Not in the past twenty-four hours.”
“Good, good. We’re always here if you need us. You coming, Andrews?”
“In a few minutes.”
A look passed between them, a tiny beat of tension. “Don’t stay too long—we’ve got a full load today.” Bryce turned from Liam to her and rapped his hand on the table. “See you around, then. Hopefully not in my official capacity.”
She sipped her drink, relieved to find the other patrons resuming their own conversations. Liam leaned in, keeping his voice low. “You sure you’re going to be okay? You look…weary.”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she admitted. “I kept thinking about that poor guy killed nearby. I tried to tackle a project, to get my mind off the murder, but I read something in Mom’s old papers that disturbed me.”
“Want to talk about it?”
The loud rev of an engine distracted her. Outside, Bryce backed a police cruiser out of his parking place. “Don’t you need to get to the station? What with the full load Bryce mentioned.”
“No hurry.” Liam kept his eyes pinned on her.
Somehow, she found herself telling him about the autopsy report. Strange how she felt so free to confide in him instead of her longtime best friend. Maybe because he never knew her sister, it felt like less of a betrayal to confide about the pregnancy.
“Damn, what a horrible way to find out.”
“I can’t believe Mom never told me.”
“She might have been trying to protect you from more pain.”
“Probably. But I wish she had talked