The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(36)
Conrad was eighteen when he inherited the ruins of what had once been a powerful financial empire. He had been determined to rebuild, but the dark clouds of the depression that had settled on the country had blocked him at every turn.
No bank would touch him because of the bankruptcy, so in the end he had made the mistake of borrowing money at outrageous interest rates from a very dangerous tycoon. He had used the cash to relaunch Massey Shipping. There was hope on the horizon, especially given the fact that the world was surely falling into yet another worldwide conflict.
There were fortunes to be made when great nations went to war. The government would need ships and the crews that knew how to man them. It would require the expertise of captains who had sailed the treacherous seas of the Pacific Ocean and were well acquainted with far-flung ports of call. Massey Shipping would be ideally positioned to reap enormous profits when war was declared. The company would do its duty for the nation—for a price.
The future had at last begun to come into focus, Conrad thought. But now the man who had loaned him the money was demanding that the entire amount plus interest be paid by the end of the year. They both knew that was impossible.
Conrad had finally understood that his generous benefactor had intended that outcome from the beginning. The bastard planned to take over Massey Shipping and rake in the enormous profits generated by the war effort.
Conrad had been so desperate that he had contemplated murder. The only thing that had stopped him from making the attempt was knowing that the tycoon’s equally ruthless sons would step into their father’s shoes.
It had all seemed hopeless. The only thing that had kept him going was the fire of rage and ambition that burned within him. He was willing to sacrifice anything and anyone. Dr. Ethan Gill had offered up Miss Adelaide Blake, a sheltered, na?ve librarian who had found herself alone in the world and in possession of a valuable inheritance. Gill had assured him that Adelaide was mentally unbalanced and that she was better off in the asylum.
The sacrifice had been performed, Conrad thought, but things had gone wrong. In the end it was necessary to tell some lies and forge some papers, but Adelaide had finally vanished into the Rushbrook Sanitarium. He did not know exactly why Gill had been so anxious to get hold of Adelaide, and Conrad had not asked. The truth was that he did not want to know.
But Adelaide had stunned them all by escaping the locked ward at Rushbrook. And now Gill was lying about her whereabouts.
Conrad reflected on the conversation he’d had on the phone a short time ago. The caller had been a woman who had refused to identify herself.
“I know where Adelaide Blake is. For a price, I’ll give you the information. But you’d better move fast because Gill already knows where she’s hiding out. The only reason he and his pal haven’t grabbed her already is because they haven’t figured out how to do it without drawing the attention of the local police. Miss Brockton—that’s the name she’s using these days—has friends now, you see. If she goes missing, people will start looking for her.”
“I can handle Adelaide Blake or Brockton or whatever she’s calling herself,” he’d said. “Just tell me how much you want for the information and where you want me to leave the money.”
The anonymous caller had named the price and given him the location where the transaction would take place. She had warned him not to be late. He had agreed instantly although it involved a long drive to the rendezvous point, a gas station outside a small rural town on Highway 101. He glanced at his watch. It was a little after eight in the morning. He would pack a bag and leave immediately.
Gill and whoever he was working with might not be smart enough to figure out how to get control of Adelaide without drawing the attention of the cops, but that would not be a problem for him, Conrad thought. He had been able to make her fall in love with him once. He could do it again.
Chapter 24
The following morning the Refresh Tearoom was packed.
“Business is certainly booming today,” Florence declared. She set the teapot down on the counter and surveyed the packed tearoom through the kitchen doorway. “Maybe you should find dead bodies more often.”
“Don’t say that.” Adelaide carefully measured tea into a pot. “I’m still trying to get the scene out of my head. It was awful, Flo. She was just lying there, all crumpled up on the patio.”
The Refresh Tearoom had been busy from the moment it opened. The questions had been incessant but Adelaide came up with a standard reply: Sorry. Can’t talk about it. Police are still investigating. When the investigation was concluded, she planned to rewrite the script: Sorry. Can’t talk about it. Too upsetting. I’m sure you understand.
“I think you should know that it’s all over town that Jake Truett spent the night at your place,” Florence warned in low tones. “And that he was with you when you found the dead psychic.”
“I told you, Mr. Truett is my new boarder. I need the money.”
“I heard you the first time,” Florence said. “But that’s not going to stop the gossip. You might need the cash but Truett doesn’t need the cheap rent. He could afford to stay at the Burning Cove Hotel.”
“He prefers the privacy of a cottage on the beach.”
“Not much privacy at your place, is there? You’re sharing the same bathroom now.”