Midnight Secrets

chapter

TWENTY-ONE


Zach was on the sidewalk talking to Mayor Kilgore when Savannah flew by in her Mustang. Hell, if he’d had his patrol car close by, he would’ve jumped in and run her down to issue a ticket. Where was she going in such an all-fired hurry?

“You two looked awfully chummy the other night. Nesta said she saw definite sparks.”

Discussing his love life with Midnight’s mayor wasn’t something he planned to do. Lamont’s bright eyes twinkled with questions he was apparently dying to ask. Zach shifted the conversation to something else he knew the mayor was concerned with. “I don’t think we’ll have any more vandalisms.”

“Really? Does that mean you caught the culprits?”

As far as Zach was concerned, the incident last night was over and would stay private. He’d had another blunt talk with both Henson and Dayton.

Clark Dayton had been uncharacteristically meek, apologizing repeatedly. He confessed to every vandalism crime, including the message on the school wall about Savannah. When a furious Zach had gotten in his face and threatened bodily harm if he came within a mile of Savannah, Dayton had stuttered out another apology and promised he wouldn’t. He’d even offered to paint over the words. The man seemed sincerely remorseful. Time would tell just how sorry the idiot was.

Henson, unfortunately, had been his same predictable self. Unrepentant, he had denied doing anything wrong and had threatened Zach with a lawsuit for harassment. As they’d walked out the door, Zach had issued one final warning. If another vandalism occurred, he was coming after both of them and would hold nothing back.

The arrests were known only to his department, and he wanted to keep it that way. His answer to Lamont’s question was deliberately vague. “Let’s just say I had a long discussion with some people who know some people. I don’t think we’ll see anything happen again.”

“That’s good, Zach. Real good. All that talk about you not being able to handle your job will die down now.”

The mayor’s words confirmed what he already knew. As lame and stupid as Henson’s and Dayton’s crimes had been, they’d been effective.

“I appreciate your support, Mayor.”

“How about you and Savannah coming over to the house next week for dinner?”

Accepting social engagements without talking to Savannah wasn’t something Zach felt comfortable doing yet. Though he hoped to hell they could get to that point someday. “I’ll check and see if she’s available. We’ll let you or Nesta know as soon as possible.”

With a nod and a hearty politician’s slap on his back, Lamont was gone.

Zach eyed the road that Savannah had sped down, tempted to find her and ask her what was going on. Instead he forced himself to head back to his office. He had paperwork to finish up, a new deputy to hire, and plans for wooing one skittish assistant DA.

* * *

Visiting Aunt Gibby was never as simple as it sounded. First there were the social niceties to get out of the way. Even though Savannah had just seen her aunt a few days ago, the older woman went through the ritual of asking about Savannah’s health and her sisters’ health and a long discussion on whether or not it was going to be as hot this summer as it was the year before. When Gibby asked about her progress on the house, Savannah, at last, felt she could bring up the subject of the letters.

“Oh yes, I know your grandfather was a great letter writer. Why, I think I still have some letters he sent me from years ago.”

“Did you know he wrote to my grandmother even after she died?”

Sadness dulled Gibby’s eyes. “That doesn’t surprise me. Daniel missed Camille so very much.”

“I read some this morning that I found surprising.”

Gibby poured herself another cup of tea. “What’s that, dear?”

“He said he didn’t believe that Daddy killed Mama or that he committed suicide. He believed they were both murdered.”

The nervous clatter of the teacup before it crashed to the floor told Savannah she’d definitely hit a nerve.

Savannah grabbed a napkin and went to her knees to dry the spill and pick up the shattered china pieces. She glanced up at Gibby, whose face had gone sheet white. “You think that, too, don’t you?”

Gibby’s gaze dropped; her fluttering, nervous fingers wiped at the moisture on the table. “I didn’t say any such thing.”

Savannah took her seat again. “Then say something, Gibby. Please … tell me what you know.”

Gibby slumped back into her chair, and her eyes went unfocused as she remembered. “We were all stunned. There’d never been any indication that Beckett would do anything like that. When he was younger, he had a temper, but we hadn’t seen any indication of that since Maggie came into his life. She just seemed to calm him.” She smiled sadly and added, “You know, like she was his center, and as long as he could concentrate on her, nothing else mattered. When you girls came along, I’ve never seen a happier man in all my born days.

“Anyway, I wasn’t at the country club when he and your mama had their argument. I heard about it, of course. Esther Lovell called me right after it happened.” She waved her hand in her fluttering way. “You know she was always the biggest busybody.”

Savannah’s fingers gripped the edge of the table. Rushing Gibby would do no good. She would tell the story her way, in her own time.

“She said everyone in the club could hear them hollering at each other. Your mama, as you know, had the sweetest disposition. So when Esther told me about the argument, I just figured she was elaborating, as was her way. Then, when the police called me …” She swallowed hard. “Your grandfather was out of town, so I had to go over …”

“Oh, Aunt Gibby, I didn’t know you had to be involved.”

“I insisted on seeing them both. Which was stupid. Chief Mosby certainly didn’t need an identification. But I just refused to believe it was true.” Breath shuddered from her body. “Those are images I’ll never get out of my head.”

Savannah took both of her hands and squeezed them. She felt terrible for making Gibby recount that time. Was she being selfish, bringing this up when it was most likely just wishful thinking on her grandfather’s part?

Gibby cleared her throat and continued, “After the initial shock subsided, Daniel started to question what we had been told. Chief Mosby refused to investigate further, saying the case was closed.”

“And he just let it go at that? The letters he wrote Grandmother made it seem that he was threatened in some way.”

Gibby sighed. “I don’t know anything about that, darlin’. Daniel refused to talk about it anymore. I figured he finally accepted the truth and just didn’t want to discuss it.”

But he hadn’t accepted the truth. The letters she’d read showed that his doubt continued, but something or someone had warned him to let it go. Other than Mosby, had he been threatened by someone else? If so, who? The real killer?

“Thank you, Gibby. I know this was a hard thing to talk about. I’m sorry it brought back bad memories.” Savannah stood and leaned over and kissed Gibby’s soft, wrinkled cheek. “I’ve got to go.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Savannah Rose. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. Stirring up those old memories won’t do anyone any good.”

Denying evil in your midst was natural. Gibby was an elderly woman who had lived in Midnight her whole life. Upsetting the equilibrium of what was safe and secure took more than just courage, it took determination.

“Don’t worry. I’m good at wheedling the truth out of people without them even realizing it.”

Gibby nodded, her relief obvious. While Savannah would do everything she could not to upset her aunt, there was no way she was going to just let this go. The awful and terrible thoughts she’d had about her father for the last eighteen years haunted her. What if he was innocent? Instead of questioning what she had been told, she had accepted that the man she adored didn’t exist and was a monster instead.

If Beckett Wilde was innocent and had been murdered, too, she would stop at nothing to discover the real killer. Heaven help anyone who tried to get in her way.