wasn’t working right tonight. Shock, probably. “Yes, he does. I guess we ought to go back to the office and get his house keys so we can take it over there.”
Jack scuffed at the driveway with his shoe. “I hesitate to bring this up, but my father said he’d be happy to buy the Corvette now that Ingram—” he paused, embarrassed “—uh, won’t be needing it. I’m sure he would store it at his house until the arrangements can be made.”
For a moment, Susanna was speechless. How utterly mercenary of Jack’s father to suggest such a thing while Mr. Ingram’s strangled body still lay on the floor of his office. And how completely in character for a self-centered man who was used to getting whatever he wanted, regardless of the circumstances. People talked, and she’d heard rumors about R. H. Townsend and the ruthless way he ran his business. For office workers searching for a job, Townsend Steakhouses, Inc., was at the bottom of the list unless you were desperate.
She’d thought better of Jack, though. In the few hours she had known him, he’d seemed like a nice guy, with his generous offer to deliver the Corvette to Mr. Ingram. How could he bring himself to relay the request?
Or maybe she had misjudged Jack all along. His helpful gesture might not have been an act of kindness at all. Having failed to buy the car for his father at the auction, his good deed might have been a last-ditch effort to convince Mr. Ingram to sell it to him. Bitterly, Susanna realized she wasn’t surprised. Her former fiancé, Bruce, would have acted the same heartless way if it meant getting something he wanted. Maybe Jack and Bruce were two of a kind. The thought soured her stomach. She was still searching for an appropriately scathing response when the porch light of the house across the street came on.
The front door opened and a figure appeared. Her neighbor, Kathy, made her way carefully across the street carrying a blanketed bundle.
“Hey, I saw you were here, so I thought I’d bring Lizzie home. She just fell asleep about half an hour ago.”
Ignoring Jack, Susanna took the bundle from Kathy’s arms. The child cocooned inside stirred during the transfer. A whimper sounded when the blanket fell open, exposing the little girl to the frigid night air.
“I don’t wanna go home,” Lizzie complained in a sleepy voice. “I wanna have a sleepover.”
“Shh.” Susanna tucked the blanket more snugly around her. “We’ll have a sleepover another time.” She looked up at Kathy. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“No problem.” She rubbed her hands on her arms and shivered. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” She flashed a quick smile at Jack as she left.
Jack watched, silent, as Susanna hugged the blanketed child close. She could see the questions in his wide eyes, but she left them unanswered. Her life was none of his business.
“I need to get her out of this cold air.” She glanced toward the car trailer. “I hate to park an attention magnet like that Corvette openly in my driveway. Would it be all right if you left the trailer here tonight? Mr. Ingram’s daughters will need to decide what they want to do with it.” She pressed her lips together. “I’ll get in touch with them tomorrow and pass along your offer.”
He jerked away his curious stare at Lizzie, and whipped out a business card from his pocket. “Sure. Probably not a good idea to leave it on the street, so I’ll put it in your driveway. My cell phone number is on that card. Just give me a call and let me know what they decide.”
She took the card awkwardly while she balanced her sleeping bundle, and then turned her back on him to march toward the house.
“Here, let me get that.” He leaped ahead of her up the concrete steps of her small porch and held his hand out for the keys. “I’ll take a look inside, just to be on the safe side.”
Susanna hesitated, but the thought of all those dark rooms inside—from now on she would leave a light burning, regardless of the electricity bill—made her decision for her. She handed him the keys and stood waiting while he unlocked the door, flipped the living-room light switch and stepped inside.
The warmth in the house was a comforting contrast to the biting cold of the porch. Susanna followed him in and stood, hugging Lizzie tight, while Jack made a tour through her small home. He was certainly thorough. By sound she tracked his progress through the kitchen, laundry, both bedrooms and the bathroom. He even peeked inside closets. Embarrassment that he was seeing the private rooms of her home warred with relief inside her, but she consciously grasped at the latter. The alarm created by Detective Rollins’s warning was fading. She would feel much safer now, knowing a killer wasn’t waiting to jump out at her the moment she and Lizzie were alone.
Jack reappeared in the living room. “Everything’s fine. I made sure all the windows were locked, too.”
“Thank you.” She forced herself to smile. This guy was certainly an anomaly. One minute he offended her with an inappropriate offer to buy the Corvette, and the next he was going the extra mile to make sure she felt safe. “I appreciate that.”
“No problem. Oh. Here.” He extracted a key ring with a single key from his pocket and, since her hands were full, set it on the coffee table. “The key to the car trailer.”
He left, and Susanna stood in the doorway watching as he crossed the yard and climbed into the pickup. The engine roared to life, and he maneuvered the trailer backward into her driveway. When it came to a stop on the other side of her car, she pushed the door closed and threw the dead bolt before heading down the short hallway to Lizzie’s bedroom.
She was still getting the child settled in bed when the engine revved again. A peek through the pink curtains revealed the taillights disappearing down the street. When the truck turned the corner, a wave of anxiety threatened her composure.
What if the detective was right? What if someone is watching, waiting to get me alone? I should have asked Jack to check the backyard, too.
With an effort, she forced the haunting image of Mr. Ingram’s body from her mind. If she dwelt on thoughts like that, she would become paranoid. She posed no threat to whoever killed Mr. Ingram, because she didn’t know anything. She hadn’t even been near the office at all today.
There’s nothing to worry about. I need to relax and get some sleep. Things always look better in the morning.
Still, she decided to make one more round through the house and check all the locks before she got ready for bed. Just to be sure.
THREE
Jack steered the pickup through Susanna’s modest neighborhood. Though he had lived in Lexington his whole life, he’d never been on these streets. The yards were all clean and neatly landscaped, as far as he could tell in the dark. Mature trees testified to the age of the homes, which were single-story rectangles made of brick. The small size of Susanna’s had surprised him. The whole house would fit inside the kitchen in his family home, where he had grown up and where his father still lived. Even Jack’s apartment was half again as big. But every room in Susanna’s house had been spotlessly clean, the decorations tastefully elegant. The little girl’s room had pink frills everywhere, an overflowing toy box and a bedspread with princesses.
And what about that child? He didn’t glimpse much more than a quick peek of a smooth cheek and bow-shaped lips inside the blanket. The picture on the desk at Ingram Industries had shown a happy little girl with sparkling blue eyes and blond hair, the same bright shade as Susanna’s. The child was around two or three years old, if he was to take a guess. Susanna obviously wasn’t married, since she and the girl lived alone. Divorced maybe? Or maybe she had never married. Was the child’s father in the picture at all? He gauged Susanna’s age at mid-twenties, plenty old enough to have a three-year-old daughter. Although, now that he thought about it, that was pretty young to have attained the status of executive secretary for a coal magnate like Ingram. How had she managed to land such an important job?
Jack gave a soundless laugh as he exited the neighborhood with a right turn onto the main road. What was this preoccupation