Headline: Murder. Maggie K. Black
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her question. A waitress dropped two menus on the table then left without so much as a nod. Over half the items were crossed off. Another long pause spread out between them. Whatever Daniel had wanted to talk to her about, he wasn’t in a hurry to bring it up and he’d sounded so hesitant on the phone she hated the idea of pushing him. As much as she suspected she’d probably quite enjoy just listening to his stories for hours, they were hardly here for small talk. Ricky’s printout of the Faceless Crew website was folded inside her notepad. She slid it out onto the table but didn’t unfold it.
There really was no easy way to ask this. “Were you working for Leslie Construction, then? Either as a carpenter or as some kind of security?”
He sat up straight. Not surprising, considering she’d basically just asked if Brian had stolen from him or if the man had been killed on his watch. Or both.
“No.” He shook his head, as if the question surprised him. “No, not at all. I mean, I did a handful of shifts for Leslie, here and there, a few years back when I needed a bit of extra money. Mostly I’m an independent contractor.”
Now they were both surprised. “Then, why were you in the garage during the trial?”
“I was hoping to have the chance to have a quick word with Brian in private.”
Her eyebrows rose. “About what?”
“A personal matter.” His mouth set in a grim line, as though she was stepping over the line of whatever he was willing to let her know. He leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What do you know about the Leslie family?”
There was an edge to his voice. It was as if he was testing her in some way she couldn’t put a finger on.
She flipped her small notepad open, even though she knew what her notes said without even having to glance. “I know that Leslie Construction was started by Brian Leslie’s father sometime in the early seventies. When he died, the company passed down to Brian and his sister, Mona. Mona had a reputation of being quite the party girl and got arrested on a handful of drinking and drug-related charges. But the crew generally liked her. They weren’t so fond of Brian, who took over full ownership of the company when Mona died about four years ago.”
The look of Daniel’s face was serious, focused and inscrutable.
She kept going. “Brian had a gambling problem and tried to both cheat on his taxes and steal from his employees. But he wasn’t very good at it and got caught. The court changed its mind about prosecuting him before the trial even started. We saw him get murdered. Now Brian is dead, the company is in shambles and will be passed down to his teenage niece, Sarah.” She leaned back. “Now here I am talking to you.” And you won’t tell me why.
Another pause, then Daniel let out a long breath. “Okay. So that’s a bit more than I was expecting. But a good starting point. Anything else?”
“Just this.” She unfolded the printout about the Faceless Crew website and pushed it toward him. His eyes scanned the page while her eyes searched his face. It paled. “A colleague found this online. I don’t know if this has any connection to Brian’s murder.”
“I’ve never heard of them before. Which is worrying. Maybe even terrifying, considering they might be after—” His words cut off abruptly. He ran both hands over his face, and for a moment it sounded as if he was praying under his breath. Then, to her surprise, he leaned across the table and took her hands in his, as if they were gearing up for something. “Okay, you’ve got to promise me that everything I’m about to tell you is off-the-record. All of it. At least for now. I’m trusting that this won’t suddenly all end up in your newspaper.”
She looked down at his hands holding hers. “You have my word.”
A light flashed outside, illuminating the window beside them in a blinding blur of yellow and white. She turned to look, but all she could see were the spots of light dancing before her eyes. “Is that lightning? Already?”
“No! Someone out there is taking pictures of us!” Daniel leaped to his feet. Frustration flashed like fire through the depths of his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t bring a photographer with you.”
Her heart sank. Oh, no. What was Ricky thinking? “Well, yes, sort of. But it’s not what you think—”
Before she could even finish, he stormed past her and rushed outside.
* * *
Daniel scanned the parking lot just in time to see a shadow run off down the road. Moments later, he heard a car door slam. Then he saw headlights flicker on through the trees. Olivia’s photographer colleague seemed to be just sitting in his car, probably waiting for her. Daniel stifled a growl. The sun had all but set now, leaving a wash of inky gray and black in the clouds above his head. The air was damp with the threat of impending rain that still seemed reluctant to fall. Tension rolled over his shoulders and back.
What had she been thinking bringing a photographer without telling him?
No, what had he been thinking in trusting a woman he barely knew when his stepdaughter’s life was on the line? Keeping Sarah safe was his primary responsibility. Now more than ever.
It had been a very long time since he’d felt his mouth go that dry when he’d looked in a pair of sparkling eyes. Olivia was right when she’d called Mona Leslie a likable party girl. As an awkward, introverted eighteen-year-old mourning the recent death of his parents, he’d been instantly drawn to Mona’s unpredictable energy and vitality. She’d been seventeen then, raising baby Sarah all on her own. They had provided him with an instant family—one that needed him. He’d married Mona when he was nineteen. But she’d never made good on her promise to give up drinking, drugs or fooling around. She’d left him less than two years later, announcing she wasn’t cut out for monogamy. He’d taken a job on the other side of the world.
Still, when he’d gotten that long-distance call from a lawyer telling him that Mona was dead, that they’d still been legally married and he was still listed in her will as Sarah’s legal guardian, he’d returned home. How could he let the child he’d once pledged to raise as his own end up in the care of social services? Mona might not have loved him for very long, but her decade-old will had specified that Daniel was the only person she trusted to be Sarah’s guardian and to hold her inheritance until she turned eighteen. Even Mona had known not to trust Sarah’s future to either her heavy-partying friends or her thieving brother, Brian. The bright-eyed baby who’d captured his heart long ago might now be an emotional, complicated teenager. But she was still his responsibility.
There was the clatter of the door opening and closing behind him.
“I’m sorry.” Olivia was at his shoulder. Her voice was soft and filled with regret. “Ricky is a friend from work. He drove me up so I wouldn’t have to come alone. Yes, he’s a photographer. But I never expected he’d just start taking pictures.”
He nodded to show he’d heard her, but still gave himself a few moments to calm back down before responding. After all, he’d been the one who’d decided to call her about the current crisis Sarah had found herself in. Ever since Brian’s trial began, the teenager had received dozens of calls from nosy reporters, who just saw her as some kind of pretty novelty from a notorious family. Those calls had tripled since Brian’s death. Daniel was exhausted from arguing with her on why throwing herself into the spotlight was probably one of the worst things she could do.
But when he’d told her about Olivia, Sarah had seemed open to meeting her, even though she’d been less than excited about the idea being interviewed by such a small newspaper. It had sounded as if it could be a workable compromise to get her story out without throwing her to the media wolves. He’d hoped meeting Olivia for coffee, explaining the situation with Sarah and getting her advice would be the first step in finding a sensible way forward. Instead, even just being around her made him feel strangely flustered.
The diner’s light turned off. He glanced back. Someone had switched the door sign from Open to Closed. Moments later, the waitress and a second