Where Secrets Sleep Page 14

  Allison took him by the shoulders, holding him gently and meeting his gaze. “Listen to me, Jamie. I know. It’s not your fault. Okay?”

  The faintest smile teased at his lips. “Okay.” He grew solemn again. “But I still don’t know where Daddy is, and Grammy will be worried when I don’t get off the bus.”

  “I guess we’d better do something about that, then.” She stood. “I’ll bet your daddy and grandpa are upstairs working on the new project. Let’s go see. And if not, we’ll call your grandmother, and then I’ll drive you home.”

  They started up the stairs, with Jamie clutching her hand. At the top, she pointed toward the apartment. “They’re doing some work for me up here, so maybe they started already.”

  As they reached the door, he carefully detached his hand. She had to smile. Male pride was coming to the fore.

  Allison opened the door. Nick was kneeling, holding a tape measure as his father ran it to the wall. He looked up at the sound of the door, his eyes widening when he saw his son.

  “Daddy!” Jamie rushed to throw his arms around his father, nearly knocking him over. “I’m sorry. I missed the bus, and I couldn’t find you, but Ally took care of me.”

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Nick held his son between his work-hardened hands. “You’re safe now. But why did you miss the bus?”

  Jamie hung his head. “I forgot.”

  “Apparently the bus lady is new and didn’t know what she was doing.” Allison thought it was time she intervened. If she could prevent it, Nick wasn’t going to scold the boy. After all, this was the fault of the adults in Jamie’s life.

  “But didn’t Grammy remind you when you left that you were supposed to go home on the bus?”

  Jamie nodded. “I forgot,” he said again.

  “Your mother’s going to be scared to death,” Jim put in, pulling a cell phone from his pocket. “I’d better call her.”

  “Tell her I’m sorry,” Jamie piped up.

  His grandfather gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she knows that.” He turned away, and in a moment he was talking in soothing terms to an obviously upset Ellen.

  Nick tilted his son’s face toward his. “What should you have done when you realized you’d missed the bus?”

  “Told the bus lady. Or the teacher.” Jamie hung his head.

  “That’s right. You—”

  “Can I speak to you, Nick?” Allison could hear the edge of anger in her voice, and she hoped Jamie didn’t recognize it. As for Nick—well, she really didn’t care if he knew she was angry or not.

  “Sure thing.” Nick rose to his feet, eyeing her warily.

  “Out in the hall.” She yanked the door open.

  Jamie seemed engrossed in talking to his grandmother on the phone. She doubted that he even noticed them leaving.

  Once the door had closed, she swung on Nick. “What do you mean by scolding the boy? It wasn’t his fault.”

  He might have said it was none of her business, but he didn’t. “I wasn’t scolding him, exactly. But Jamie needs to know what to do when things don’t go as expected. He should have told an adult, not walked down here on his own.”

  That probably made sense, but she was too worked up to admit it. “He’s a six-year-old. It’s not his fault. The adults in his life are supposed to be looking after him.”

  Answering anger flared in Nick’s face. “Look, I’m not sure what makes you an expert on raising a child, but Jamie is my concern. I take care of him.”

  “Is it taking care of him to put him in a situation where he goes looking for his father and can’t find him? Do you know how frightening that is for a child?”

  “Sure I do. And I’ll keep reassuring him. But I’m also going to reinforce what he should have done. That’s my responsibility. What do you know about it, anyway?”

  The angry question struck too near home. Everything, she wanted to say. I know everything about having your father let you down.

  She didn’t speak, but maybe some of what she was feeling showed in her face.

  “Allison?” He grasped her wrists, holding her when she would have turned away. “What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing,” she snapped. She pulled her hands free, charged into her office and slammed the door.

  * * *

  ALLISON LEANED AGAINST the door, shaking. What had she done? Righteous indignation was one thing, but she had lost control.

  She knew why. Jamie’s fear had stirred her own long-hidden feelings. It was humiliating, knowing that a scared, devastated six-year-old child still lurked within the capable adult exterior she prized. And fearing, too, that she’d shown it to Nick.

  He couldn’t have known. Could he?

  Hugging herself, she crossed the room to the desk. Hector had followed her upstairs, and he was curled atop a stack of ledgers like a furry paperweight. He opened one eye, looked at her and closed it again.

  Work, that was what she needed. Something to occupy her mind while the memories sank beneath the surface again. Sitting down in the swivel chair, she opened her email account and began flipping through the contents of her inbox.

  Nothing important, it seemed. A few business-related messages that she forwarded back to the office. Let Diane explain why Allison wouldn’t be available to work with her clients any longer. The usual number of deals on everything from computers to books to spring fashions. Another email...she stopped, frowning at the sender, and then clicked on it.

  The name was familiar to her—a headhunter who specialized in upper-echelon design jobs. But she’d never registered with the firm, so why were they contacting her?

  A job, it seemed. Her name had been mentioned, there happened to be an opportunity in San Francisco that she might fit, was she interested in pursuing it? If so, contact the agency as soon as possible.

  Her fingers hovered over the keys. San Francisco...home of craftsman bungalows, elegant row houses and an eclectic art scene. And no snowy Philadelphia winters.

  Tempting, definitely tempting. What harm would it do to pursue it a little? Her fingers hovered on the brink of hitting reply, but she pushed herself away abruptly. If the opportunity was real, it could wait until she could approach it with a calm mind.

  Hector, apparently disturbed by her movement, rose, stretching his back into an arc, and jumped down from the desk, leaving flecks of orange-and-white fur floating in the shaft of light from the window. He stalked to the door, pawed it once and looked over his shoulder at her with an expectant gaze.

  “Yes, all right.” She should go back downstairs anyway. Sarah could no doubt use some help with the stream of donations coming in.

  Allison opened the door cautiously and peered out. She didn’t particularly want to run into Nick again at the moment.

  The door to the apartment was ajar, and from beyond it she could hear the murmur of male voices. She went quickly to the stairs and started down, the cat bounding ahead of her.

  Glancing down the hallway as she reached the bottom, Allison realized that the storeroom door was open. She’d probably left it that way when she’d hurried to help Jamie, unless one of the tenants was there. She’d better check.

  She stepped inside the storeroom. The lights were on, but Tommy might have left them that way when he’d dropped off the things he’d brought.

  “Hello? Anyone here?”

  There was a momentary silence. A box scraped, and Ralph appeared at the end of the row, several books in his hands. “Allison.” He seemed almost relieved to see her. He rubbed the tip of his nose. “You’d think people would dust things before they bring them in, wouldn’t you?”

  “They’re probably too eager to get them out of the house.” She joined him, eyeing the boxes he’d obviously been investigating. “Tommy Blackburn brought those books in today.”


  Ralph seemed to feel his actions required some explanation. He peered at her over his glasses, shrugging nervously. “I...I was just planning to check on some things I have stored on the shelves. Wouldn’t want them mixed in with the sale items, would I?”

  Since tenants’ supplies were clearly labeled on the steel shelves that lined the walls, that chance seemed unlikely.

  “I suppose as a bookseller you’re interested in what people have donated,” she commented.

  “Yes, well...” Ralph hesitated, clearly on the verge of telling her something. His lips twitched, increasing his resemblance to a white rabbit. “I’ve had a bit of petty pilfering in the shop, so I thought I’d have a look at what’s come in.”

  Did he realize how little sense that made? “I’m surprised that anyone would shoplift books, of all things. And how would you know if a given book had been taken from your store?”

  “Well, I...I guess I wouldn’t.” He seemed to become aware that he was still holding books in his hands and shoved them back into the nearest box with a nervous laugh. “Silly of me, I guess. More likely a mistake in our inventory than anything else, anyway.”

  He headed toward the door, and Allison followed him, intending to be sure the storeroom was locked.

  “Laurel Ridge seems like a fairly law-abiding place, but I suppose there’s a certain amount of shoplifting wherever you are.”

  Ralph watched as she locked the storeroom. His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them up. “There’s just as much evil in a small town as a big city,” he said. “Per capita, of course.” He tittered. “Malice is everywhere. Especially here.” He glanced over his shoulder, as if checking to see that they weren’t overheard. “You must realize that,” he whispered. “After all, you put locks on all the attic doors.”

  She hadn’t realized her actions would be the subject of conversation. “Only because I found one of the doors standing open. If someone went up without permission and was injured in some way, we might be considered liable.”

  “I suppose, I suppose,” he repeated the words. “I must get back to the shop.” He scurried away.

  “Ally, my grammy is here,” Jamie called from the stairwell as he jumped down the last two steps and stood waiting for Ellen, who descended more decorously and approached Allison with outstretched hands.

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you found Jamie.” She put her arms around Allison in a quick hug and then stepped back, smiling. “Such a mix-up. You should have seen me running down the road after the school bus, shouting at them to stop. Of course, the driver didn’t hear a thing with all those children making noise.”

  “I’m sorry, Grammy.” Jamie pressed against her for a moment. “Next time I’ll go right to my teacher.”

  “That’s always the smart thing to do.” Ellen ruffled his hair. “And I know you’re a smart boy, right?”

  “Right.” He grinned.

  Had Nick told his mother about her little explosion? If so, she couldn’t tell by the way Ellen reacted to her. She was beginning to think she’d made a fool of herself.

  Ralph’s comment about malice slid into her mind. Maybe it wasn’t just Jamie’s predicament that had precipitated her loss of control. Maybe there was something in the atmosphere of Blackburn House.

  * * *

  FORCING HIMSELF TO CONCENTRATE, Nick unscrewed the hinges of the old cabinet doors in the apartment kitchen that evening. He wasn’t paid to work overtime, but it was a fact of life when you ran a business.

  Anyway, he’d been restless and irritable after he’d put Jamie to bed—so much so that his mother, after watching him change the channels on the show she was trying to watch several times, took the remote from him and suggested in a firm voice that he find something to do with himself.

  Did Mom know what was bugging him? She seemed to know most things by some sort of instinct, whether a person told her or not.

  The sun was doing its vanishing act behind the ridge, and Blackburn House was quiet around him. If he made a head start tonight, they’d be that much further along tomorrow.

  Allison hadn’t been in the building when he’d arrived. Just as well. He was in no mood for another dressing-down about his parenting skills.

  He lifted the cabinet door down and moved on to the next. There’d been something more behind that outburst of Allison’s. He felt sure of it. Something personal. But he doubted she’d ever confide in him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted her to.

  It would be a mistake, he reminded himself, to get too close. She would leave here, sooner or later. And he would stay, because this was the life he wanted for himself and his son.

  The door to the apartment rattled, and someone stepped inside. He heard her steps approaching the kitchen, and in another moment, Allison appeared in the doorway.

  Nick focused intently on the hinge. If she wanted a fight, she’d have to do it without him.

  “You’re working late tonight,” she said.

  Allison didn’t sound as if she were spoiling for a fight. In fact, she seemed subdued, pale in the artificial glare of the work light.

  “Just thought I’d do a little more of the clearing away since I had time.” The screw jammed, and he forced himself to take it easy as he worked it loose. Dad wouldn’t thank him if he split the old door.

  “I guess there’s a lot to do before you can start on putting in the new kitchen.” She moved a little closer, coming to stand with her elbow on the counter as she watched him.

  “Right.” The hinge came free, and he lifted the door and set it on the floor. “We always save as much as we can of the old stuff. You can never tell when it might come in handy.”

  She tapped on the old door. “I can’t imagine what anyone would want with these cabinets.”

  “You’d be surprised. One of the guys just asked me today if he could buy some old cabinets cheap. Said they were just the thing to put in the cellar for his wife’s canned goods.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, he can have them free. I thought you’d probably just take a sledgehammer to them.”

  Nick grinned, moving the step stool over to the next set of doors. “That’s not how we work.”

  Her gaze slid away from his, and she grimaced. “I’m beginning to think that’s what I did earlier today—used a sledgehammer to swat a fly.”

  He considered. “Not sure I like being compared to a fly.”

  “You know what I mean.” She shook her head and gave him a smile that seemed to wobble around the edges. “I’m trying to apologize, you know.”

  “Oh, is that what you’re doing?” Nick leaned against the counter, studying her face. “I wasn’t sure.”

  She took a deep breath. “I overreacted. I’m sorry.” She turned as if to leave, and Nick discovered he didn’t want her to go.

  “Why?” he asked.

  She glanced back at him. “Why what?”

  “Why did you overreact?” He kept his tone calm. Patient. “I appreciate your concern for Jamie. But that wasn’t just about Jamie.”

  For an instant it seemed she’d walk out without answering. Then she turned back to him. “No. It wasn’t just about Jamie.”

  She met his gaze, and the remembered pain in her deep green eyes shocked him. There was something more. This was something important, and if she told him, that would change things between them.

  “What is it?” he asked gently.

  She shook her head.

  “What happened to you, Ally?” he persisted.

  Maybe it was the use of the nickname. Maybe she just needed to talk. Whatever it was, he could see the decision in her face.

  Allison rubbed her hands along her upper arms as if she was cold. “Jamie was so frightened when he couldn’t find you. It just...reminded me.”

  “Reminded you
of something similar that happened to you.” He put the pieces together. “How old were you?”

  “Six.” Her lips trembled. “Six, like Jamie. I suppose that’s why I...overreacted. That’s all.”

  “It’s not all. Who was it? Your mother?”

  She shook her head.

  “Your father, then?” Everyone said Hugh Standish had been selfish and self-centered. Had he proved that to his daughter?

  Allison nodded. For a moment it hung in the balance, and then she seemed to cave in all at once.

  “My parents were separated. My dad wanted to see me, so on Fridays I was supposed to ride a different bus from school, one that stopped near his apartment. He’d be there to meet me, I’d stay overnight and then he’d take me back to my mother’s on Saturday afternoon.” She shook her head. “Now it seems so crazy to me that they expected that of a six-year-old, but at the time I just accepted it.”

  She sucked in a breath, and he could see her stiffen, as if to face something unpleasant.

  His own heart was bleak. How much damage might he and Sheila have done to Jamie when a marriage became a battleground?

  “Anyway, one Friday I got off the bus, clutching my school papers with the stars to show him. But Daddy wasn’t there.” She rubbed her palms on her arms. “I waited for a while. It seemed like ages, but it probably wasn’t all that long. And he didn’t come. I didn’t know what to do. People were looking at me, I thought. One woman asked if I was lost, but I said I was waiting for my father.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I remembered how to get to my dad’s apartment, so I decided to walk there.”

  “Like Jamie,” he said. No wonder she’d been hit by what happened today. But he suspected her story didn’t have a happy ending.

  She nodded. “I found the building, and I went up to his door. I knocked, but no one answered. So finally I just sat down on the floor and waited.” She managed a feeble smile. “I wasn’t as smart as Jamie, I guess. At least he came up with some ideas.”

  “He had people around that he knew. People he could come to.” Nick leaned against the counter next to her, not quite touching but close enough to feel her warmth and smell the fragrance of her hair. “It sounds as if you didn’t.”