How Secrets Die. Marta Perry
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he’d thought of it in that way. “No thorns, thank goodness,” she added.
The door swung open, and Mrs. Anderson vanished inside. “Just let me get some lights on, so you can see the place properly, although there is light from the windows, of course.”
Kate hesitated on the doorstep, one hand on the frame. A tendril of ivy entangled her fingers as if to restrain her. This is it, a voice seemed to be saying in the back of her mind. Once you’re committed, there’s no going back.
I don’t want to go back, she insisted. I’m already in this to the end.
The only possible thing worse than knowing the truth of why Jason died would be never knowing at all.
* * *
MAC WAS STILL thinking about that odd encounter with Kate Beaumont when he headed into the café for coffee. He should be concentrating on the recent explosion of illegal prescription meds surfacing in town. Trouble was, he had a suspicion Kate Beaumont might be likely to set off a few explosions of her own.
“Uncle Mac!” The high, young voice of his nephew cut through the chatter of the lunchtime crowd. “Look what I have!”
Grinning, Mac wended his way through tables to where his mother sat with his brother’s boy, Jamie. Jamie was holding a sticky bun in an equally sticky hand.
“Do you want some, Uncle Mac? I’ll share.”
Mac stepped back out of range of Jamie’s waving hand. “No, thanks. If I eat that in my uniform, I’ll have the bees following me around town.”
Jamie, at eight easily impressed, found that hilarious. While he was doubled up with giggles, Mac raised an eyebrow at his mother. “No school today?”
Ellen Whiting, slim and attractive, shook her head. “Dentist appointment. I’ll drop him at school after lunch.”
“I didn’t have cavities,” Jamie announced proudly around a sticky mouthful.
“So you’re making up for that by eating lots of sugar, right, buddy?” Mac ruffled Jamie’s fair, silky hair.
“Ach, such a sweet boy can use some sugar.” Anna Schmidt, the Amish owner of the Buttercup Café, set a mug of coffee in front of Mac and gestured him into a chair. “I’ll put your coffee refill in a to-go cup, but for now sit down and visit like a normal person.”
“Denke, Anna.” He slid easily into the Pennsylvania Dutch expression he’d heard all his life. “You scold me as much as my mother does.”
“I don’t scold,” Mom said. “I just suggest.”
“Over and over,” he teased. He glanced toward the door at the sound of the bell and stiffened. Kate Beaumont had just come in.
She spotted him and stopped midstride, making him think that she was fighting the inclination to turn around and walk back out again.
His lips twitched. She probably didn’t know how obvious she was. Perversely, he rose, nodding to her and forcing her to recognize him. “Ms. Beaumont, it’s nice to see you again. Come and meet my mother.”
If anyone had a talent for making people thaw, it was Ellen Whiting. He’d be fascinated to see how long Kate held out against her.
Kate approached somewhat unwillingly, he thought.
“Kate Beaumont, Ellen Whiting.”
His mother held out her hand. “So nice to meet you, Kate. Won’t you join us?”
Before Kate had a chance to respond, Jamie burst into the conversation. “Hi, I’m Jamie Whiting. Not James, cause that’s my grandpa’s name. Sometimes Grammy calls him Jimmy to tease him, but she always calls me Jamie. Does anybody call you Katie?”
Kate looked a bit stunned at Jamie’s conversational style, but she managed to make a recovery. “Hi, Jamie. No, nobody calls me Katie. Just Kate, okay?”
“Okay. Grammy says you should always call people what they want to be called, because nicknames can hurt people’s feelings. Aren’t you going to sit down?”
Under the pressure of that wide, innocent blue gaze, Kate sat in a chair, but she perched on the edge of it, as if ready to make a quick retreat.
Mac reached across to hand Jamie another napkin. “Maybe if you’d slow down a bit, somebody else could talk.”
Jamie just grinned at him, but he subsided.
“Mom, Kate’s brother was Jason Reilley. You remember—the young man who passed away last year.” He glanced at Jamie, but his nephew was deeply engaged in eating the last crumb of his treat.
His mother’s eyes filled with quick sympathy. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. That was just tragic. You must miss him terribly.”
As usual, his mother had moved straight to the heart, and he saw Kate’s lips tremble for an instant. “Yes,” she murmured. “I do miss him.”
“Losing someone is never easy, but I always think it’s especially hard when it’s a young person.” His mother clasped Kate’s hand. “Naturally you must have wanted to see where he lived.”
Funny. He’d assumed she’d wanted to see where her brother had died, but Mom jumped to the opposite conclusion. And she must be right, judging by the way Kate was looking at her—with a kind of startled surprise at meeting understanding from a stranger.
His mother never stayed a stranger with anyone for long. In a few minutes she’d elicited the fact that Kate had lost her job with a Baltimore newspaper in a series of cutbacks.
“I’m not the only one.” She shrugged off an expression of sympathy. “People seem to rely on the internet for their news these days, not the daily paper.”
“Laurel Ridge must be the exception, then.” He decided it was time he got back into the conversation. “We still have to have our daily dose of the Laurel Ridge Standard, don’t we?”
Mom chuckled. “How else would we know what was going on in town? The grapevine is good, but we have to see some things in print to believe them.”
“Myself, I’d say gossip is more interesting.” Anna appeared, setting a mug of coffee in front of Kate without being asked. “But there’s nothing like the newspaper for seeing who’s got what for sale. My boy Luke just got a perfectly good harrow from someone who was going to pay to have it hauled away as junk.”
Kate looked startled at the server’s entering the discussion, as well she might. He suspected Laurel Ridge had a few surprises in store for her.
“Anna, this is Kate Beaumont. She’s visiting Laurel Ridge for a bit.”
“Ach, gut.” Anna’s round face beamed. “Wilkom. I’ll be seeing you in the Buttercup, then, ain’t so?”
“I guess so. I’m staying right across the street.”
“Mrs. Anderson’s.” She nodded. “I guessed as much. Will you be having some lunch? The chicken pot pie, maybe?”
“Just a salad, please. To take out.”
“I’m sure you’re busy getting settled in,” Mom said, wiping Jamie’s hands and face despite his protests. “We’ve delayed you long enough, and I must get this boy back to school.”
“Do I have to...” Jamie began, but he subsided at a look from his grandmother. Sliding from his chair, he gave Mac a throttling hug and turned to Kate. “See you again soon, okay?”
Kate smiled, her expression softening. “It was nice to meet you, Jamie.”
“I hope we’ll have a chance to get better acquainted while you’re here,” Mom said, touching Kate’s shoulder lightly. “I know Grace Anderson will make you comfortable. Her rooms are lovely.”
“I’m sure they