Justice Buried Read online

  “Do you know who was responsible?”

  She shook her head, not about to get a fellow programmer into trouble. “It would be a mistake to replace the IT guy. I doubt he’ll be that careless again, whereas someone new might be.”

  “I had planned to announce that you were the Phantom Hawk and had been working for me,” Rutherford said, “but now it would blow your cover at the museum. So we need to keep it quiet until we discover who’s been stealing the artifacts.”

  “I agree.” Not to mention she didn’t want the man who fired at her Thursday night to know her identity. While he may have seen her, she doubted he would be able to recognize her again. It had happened so quickly, and with the cap covering her hair and the dark clothes disguising her body, she was banking that he would assume it’d been a man. As long as he didn’t discover Kelsey Allen was the Phantom Hawk, she should be safe.

  That settled, her mind jumped to another problem. She didn’t have anything to wear to the gala, and she hated shopping. “I’ll call Mom and ask about what to wear tonight.”

  “No need. She and Sabra are picking out an outfit for you to wear.”

  “Sabra didn’t say a word about the gala when I saw her earlier,” Kelsey said.

  “I don’t think your mom called her until ten thirty this morning to go shopping.”

  “And they didn’t trust me to pick out something, huh?” Unlike Kelsey, Sabra and her mom had a natural flair for fashion. They would know what went with her porcelain skin and ash-blonde hair. When she was shopping on her own, it was hit and miss.

  She glanced down at the jeans and cobalt-blue sweater she’d pulled on, pleased that today was a hit. Tomorrow might be a miss.

  “No, it wasn’t that,” Sam said and checked his watch. “But you do have an appointment with Sabra’s hairdresser in two hours.”

  “And you’re just now telling me?” She wondered what Sabra had to pay for that. What if she’d said no to attending the fundraiser?

  “That’s what I was starting to tell you when Walter arrived.”

  “You were that sure I would go?”

  “Sabra figured she could talk you into it.”

  Suddenly, terror struck her heart. Everyone else was a couple . . . “She didn’t set me up with a blind date—” The twinkle in Sam’s eyes chopped the question off. “Who?”

  “Brad Hollister.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Sabra set me up with Brad?”

  “No. Your mother.”

  4

  “MOM DID WHAT?” Brad Hollister dropped the sponge in the bucket and stared at his sister. His half Labrador, half something else dropped to the ground and whimpered. He massaged the dog’s neck. “I’m sorry, Tripod. I’m not upset with you.” He narrowed his eyes at Andi. “I’m waiting.”

  Her lips curled into a smug grin. “You heard me right the first time, and Mom didn’t, I did. I was at the house when Cynthia Allen dropped by for coffee with Mom and asked if there was any possibility that you might accompany Kelsey tonight. I don’t remember it, but from what Mrs. Allen said, Kelsey had a crush on you in high school. Mom hedged and Mrs. Allen looked so down, I told her you would be happy to accompany her daughter to the Pink Palace fundraiser tonight.”

  Andi pushed a strand of hair from her face. “I knew when I did it you wouldn’t be happy about it, but it was an emergency. Mom was on the hook.”

  It’d been a month since he’d had a weekend off, and the temptation to spray Andi with the water hose almost overcame his better judgment.

  “What if I’d had a previous engagement? Like a Saturday night date,” Brad said, his stomach curdling at the thought of wearing a tux and mingling with people he didn’t know. He blasted the red 1968 Mustang with water, and the three-legged dog thumped his tail, waiting for Brad to start their game.

  “You never have a date. You’re too busy working on a homicide case or you’re down at the youth center with those boys. You really need to socialize more, and not all women are like Elle.” She smiled sweetly at him and grabbed a chamois to help wipe down the car. “Come on, it’s for a good cause, and it repays a social obligation for Mom. Besides, you remember Kelsey from high school. She was so cool.”

  “She almost blew up the chemistry lab. That’s what I remember.” That, and her disdain of him. He never knew if it was because she didn’t like him or she’d heard him ask for a different partner the first day of class. So her mom was totally wrong about the crush thing.

  “Well, what I remember about her was how kind she was,” Andi said. “She mentored me the year after Steph . . . Anyway, I was a seventh grader and she was a senior and she didn’t have to be so nice.”

  “Does she know that her mother set us up?” Because he couldn’t believe she’d agree to a date with him. Fundraiser or not.

  “Uhh . . .” Andi rubbed a spot on the fender. “I’m not sure. You’re supposed to meet them in front of the Pink Palace at seven.”

  Joy. “Them?”

  “Yeah. She’ll be with her parents.”

  They must be afraid she’ll bolt. “Are you and Will going?”

  “Nope. This is a blue chip affair—only the elite of Memphis are invited. Will and I are taking his mom out to eat.”

  More joy. He wrung water from the chamois. “That means a tuxedo.”

  “No, just business casual.” Andi offered an encouraging smile.

  He glared at her. Business casual didn’t change the fact that he’d probably be rubbing elbows with the mayor and people way out of his league. For that matter, Kelsey Allen was out of his league, something she never let him forget in high school.

  While not old money in Memphis, neither were the Allen brothers nouveaux riche. Sam and his brother, Grant, had taken the small automotive parts business that their grandfather had started and turned it into a franchise. They had their fingers in lots of pots in Memphis, Sam especially. Brad frowned. Kelsey was thirty-five, a year younger than he was. She must not have changed one bit if her mother had to bribe someone to take her out.

  He jutted his jaw. “You owe me. Big-time.”

  “No, I figure we’re even. I ran into Elle yesterday. She seemed very interested in what was going on with you, especially after I told her you were transferring to the Cold Case Unit.”

  Words escaped him. He’d been engaged to Elle for a year before she suddenly decided she didn’t want to marry a cop and broke it off. “That’s interesting.” Tripod nudged him, and Brad looked down. “Sorry, big boy, but your aunt here has given me an assignment.”

  “It’s only three—you have plenty of time to exercise him,” she said and grabbed the water hose. “And you don’t fool me about Elle. You’re still interested. Give her a call.”

  He didn’t know if his heart could take a conversation with his former fiancée.

  But it was impossible to stay mad at Andi for long, and he laughed as she arced the water over the yard and the dog chased it. Tripod could outmaneuver Brad. His thoughts returned to the date. Unless Kelsey Allen had changed, she probably wouldn’t want to stay at the fundraiser long. He could hope, at least. Because tonight was it, as far as he and Kelsey Allen were concerned.

  And he certainly wasn’t calling Elle.

  At seven o’clock, Brad parked the Mustang in the crowded parking lot and pocketed his keys. The angled sun glinted on the mansion’s pink Georgian facade, the reason for the Pink Palace name. He stopped to let a cleaning van drive by, then as he approached the entrance, he sensed someone watching him and scanned the area. The ten or so people ahead of him were intent on getting inside, and his gaze slid past the petite blonde with short, spiked hair to a couple walking from the parking lot.

  He stopped and looked at the blonde again. There was something familiar . . . or maybe it was just the way the simple black dress hugged her willowy body. Recognition dawned, rocking him back on his heels. This . . . couldn’t be Kelsey.

  “Brad?”

  The question on her lips turned into
an amused grin, and he swallowed hard. “Kelsey?”

  Tonight might not be as bad as he’d thought.

  “What? People grow up, you know. Even nerdy teenage girls with thick glasses.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And just so you know—our . . . date . . . wasn’t my idea.”

  So much for thinking it might not be so bad. She was as sarcastic as she was in school. And he would never understand how she managed to look down her nose at him when he towered above her. He forced a smile. “Never thought it was. And for the record, I never thought of you as nerdy even if you did have a crush on me.”

  “No, just inept, bungling, klutzy. Wait! What do you mean, crush?” She narrowed her green eyes.

  “That’s what your mom told my mom.” He gave her a “so there” look.

  “I hate to disappoint you, but I did not have a crush on you,” she said. “And while we’re clearing the record, that explosion in the chemistry lab back in high school wasn’t my fault. The picric acid was out of date, but I don’t suppose Mr. Crenshaw told you that when you were asking for a new partner.”

  Heat crawled up his neck. He’d always suspected she heard his rant to their chemistry teacher when he’d assigned them as partners. Brad owed her a long overdue apology. “Like you said, people do grow up. And no, he didn’t tell me about the picric acid.”

  He glanced down at his spit-’n-polished shoes, glad he’d taken the time to shine them. When he looked up, those green eyes were guarded. “Ended up, you were a pretty good lab partner.”

  She held his gaze. “I suppose that’s the best you can do for an apology.” Then she crooked her arm. “Why don’t we get this over with, and then you can leave—you don’t have to babysit me all night.”

  That was another thing that hadn’t changed. Her attitude could change in an instant. And he was relieved he didn’t have to hang around once they made an appearance. “Yes, ma’am.”

  As they walked through the door, she said, “So, what are you doing now?”

  “I’m a cop. Homicide tonight, but starting Monday, I’m switching over to the Cold Case Unit.”

  The arm that was looped through his twitched. “Really? Maybe you can discover what happened to my father.”

  “Your father? I thought Sam Allen was your dad.”

  “He’s my stepfather. He and my mom married after my real dad, Paul Carter, stole artifacts from this very museum and skipped the country. Sam wanted to adopt me,” she said. “Partly so Sabra and I wouldn’t have different last names, and partly because I had to change schools after I was teased unmercifully about my real dad being branded a thief. Mom decided a new school warranted a new last name, and because my real father wasn’t around to say no—voilà.”

  He could understand that. “Was there a trial?”

  “No, they never tracked him down.”

  He didn’t remember anything about her father from school and glanced at her. For an instant, Kelsey’s hard veneer cracked, exposing pain. So all was not perfect in the rich girl’s life. His attitude toward her softened. “So you have no idea where he went?”

  “Nope. No one has heard from him since. He’s probably in Argentina, enjoying his spoils,” she said, her mask back in place.

  “Maybe he’s afraid he would be arrested if he came back.”

  “That’s the thing, the statute of limitations on his crimes has run out—he could come back if he wanted to.”

  The yearning in her voice scraped his heart. “The unit focuses mostly on murders, but I haven’t been assigned a case. If you’d like, I’ll find the file and look it over.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

  What was he thinking? Opening the case would put him in constant contact with this prickly woman from his past. But all his life he’d been a rescuer of animals and people. Looking into her face, which held a glimmer of hope and an emotion he couldn’t identify, stirred that need to make things right.

  “Why not.” Brad gave her a reassuring smile. “Not sure how long it’ll take to find the file, but I’ll keep you posted.”

  5

  KELSEY DIDN’T KNOW if she was more surprised at Brad’s offer to help or that she’d blurted out about her dad. He wasn’t a subject she usually shared with anyone. She had such mixed feelings about him. But one thing was for sure—he’d taught her that men couldn’t be trusted, especially the ones she loved.

  She studied Brad out of the corner of her eye as they walked through the crowd moving toward the ballroom, trying to figure him out. She hadn’t expected the apology or that he would remember he’d asked the chemistry teacher to give him a new partner.

  But then, Brad seemed to have changed into a softer person, and he looked nothing like the teenager Kelsey remembered. He’d aged nicely . . . not that thirty-six was old, but the skinny senior had filled out since high school. She’d bet those broad shoulders under his jacket were well toned. Mentally, she brought herself up short. She didn’t have the time or inclination to think about Brad Hollister’s muscles.

  “Stairs or take the escalator?” Brad asked, glancing down at her stiletto heels.

  “Stairs. I’m always afraid I’ll get something caught in those things.” She did take his arm as they climbed the steps to the second floor.

  “I’m impressed—you’re not winded,” Brad said at the top.

  Kelsey grinned at him. “What kind of wimps do you date?” She held up her hand. “Oh wait, I know. A macho guy like you likes his women soft and clingy, not someone who runs five miles a day.”

  “Do you have to turn everything into an issue?” Without waiting for an answer, he glanced up at the dome ceiling. “I haven’t been here in years and had forgotten how beautiful it is. Do you come often?”

  “I haven’t been here in years, either,” she said, gazing at the rich colors. So he didn’t like talking about the women he dated. Something to remember. “I didn’t realize so many people would be here . . . or kids,” she said as they stopped to let a family walk ahead of them. “I suppose we should try and find the rest of my bunch.”

  “So they won’t think I ditched you?”

  “No, that I ditched you,” she said. “They’re probably in the ballroom.”

  They walked across the marble floor to an arched doorway. She searched the room for her parents, spying them on the other side of the room. “I start work here Monday.”

  “You’re kidding,” Brad replied. “Doing what?”

  “Temporary conservator.” She decided not to tell him about the security angle even though he was a cop.

  “Really? I meant to ask earlier what career path you took. Never would have figured you for that.”

  “What did you figure me for?” She didn’t understand his surprise. But then, he’d never really known her.

  “Maybe something in science . . . a doctor . . .”

  He thought she could be a doctor? Her heart swelled with unexpected pleasure. Maybe she’d pegged him all wrong back then. “I love art, and I love history.” Not to mention breaking into computers and buildings.

  “So why only temporary?”

  “Let’s just say I have something else on the back burner.” A cop totally would not understand about the Phantom Hawk. “With the economy like it is, there’s not much money for museums. I lost my last job in Jackson, Mississippi, because of funding cuts, and when the current conservator returns from maternity leave, I’ll lose this one.” She nodded toward her parents. “Let’s say hello to Mom and Sam, and then you can cut out of here, if you’d like.”

  “I’m in no hurry to leave. We’re here and might as well stay for the meal.”

  She suppressed a groan. What if she couldn’t get rid of him? She was planning to test a theory about how the thief was getting inside the museum as soon as it became dark. The backpack with the grappling hook and work clothes was in the car, and her plan was to walk out with Brad when he left so everyone would assume she’d left with him.

  “Aunt Kelsey!�
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  She looked around as her six-year-old niece barreled toward her, blonde curls flying. Kelsey caught her when Lily threw herself into Kelsey’s arms. “What’s the matter?”

  “Billy says I run like a girl and girls can’t run.” Huge tears brimmed in her eyes. “Come make him stop saying that.”

  “We will later.” Kelsey hugged her niece and set her down. “And you’ll just have to teach him that girls can run as good as boys. Let’s go see what your mom is doing.”

  “But you have to tell him now.”

  She sighed. Lily would not let up until she talked to the boy. “Where is this Billy?”

  Lily pointed toward a carrot-haired boy standing near a display of Native American art. Beside him was the museum director, Robert Tomlinson. His father? More likely the balding, midfifties director was the boy’s grandfather, and they could be more protective than fathers. “Excuse me a minute,” she said to Brad.

  “Don’t you think you should let her fight her own battles?” he asked softly.

  “I plan to. But I need to speak to his grandfather, anyway.”

  She took Lily’s hand, and the two of them approached Mr. Tomlinson and the chubby boy by his side. She certainly didn’t want to ruffle Mr. Tomlinson’s or Billy’s feathers, but from the belligerent look in the boy’s eyes, his feathers were not only already ruffled but plucked out. What in the world had her niece said to him?

  She’d barely nodded at the director when Lily said, “My aunt said we’d show you girls can run better than boys.”

  “They can not!” Billy retorted.

  “Lily! That’s not what I said.” She wanted to drop through the floor. She turned to Robert Tomlinson and held out her hand. “I’m Kelsey Allen.”

  “Ah, Ms. Allen, our temporary conservator. I’m looking forward to your joining our little family here at the mansion.”

  Lily tugged on her hand. “Tell him, Aunt Kelsey.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. Expectation in Lily’s face squeezed her heart. “Maybe Billy would like a play date soon. We could go to the park and you could show him how you can climb the monkey bars.”