Chapter 16
Who made this pot of coffee?
Shari stared into her porcelain mug, barely suppressing a tremor of disgust. Its contents looked like coffee. It smelled like coffee. But despite the four packets of sweetener and generous helping of almond creamer she’d stirred into the brew, it tasted like diesel fluid. Even so, she couldn’t imagine giving up coffee for forty days . . .
“Do we need to talk?”
Diego’s puzzling question drew Shari’s thoughts away from the coffee impostor. She turned to find him standing with his right shoulder braced against her cubicle threshold.
It was the end of a long Thursday. Yet, as usual, Diego looked as fresh and crisp as a new morning. His dark gold crewneck knit sweater and chocolate brown pants were casual elegance. In lieu of his usual coffee mug, Diego was carrying a transparent, teal, thirty-two-ounce water bottle, a signal that he was wrapping up his day.
“You must think so, otherwise you wouldn’t ask.” Shari set down her mug. She hit a couple of keys on her keyboard to save the notes for her latest story, then turned to Diego. “What’s on your mind?”
“Direct as always.” Diego’s brown eyes twinkled with humor. He crossed into Shari’s cubicle and settled onto the guest chair at her small conversation table. “Harold has been asking about your investigations with Sister Lou.”
Shari hoped she masked her surprise. “How do you know that?”
Diego’s full lips curved into a half smile. “I can’t reveal my sources.”
Shari was more puzzled now than she’d been when Diego had asked if they needed to talk. “Why are you asking about Harold? Are you concerned that I’ll tell him about our latest case?”
“I know you wouldn’t do that.” His tone was chiding as though he was disappointed that she’d think he would doubt her discretion. Diego took a deep drink from his water bottle.
“Then what is it?”
“I’m concerned about you.” He spread his arms. “I’d considered speaking with Harold on your behalf, but I didn’t think you’d want my interference.”
“I can handle Harold.” Shari crossed her arms. “I’m glad other people have noticed his obsession with my partnership with Sister Lou. I was starting to feel paranoid.”
“You’re not paranoid. He’s asked several reporters and a couple of copy editors about your working with Sister Lou. He’s even asked me.”
“You?” Shari’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “That’s pretty ballsy. What did you tell him?”
“Apparently, we all said the same thing . . . that he should ask you.”
Happiness wrapped around Shari like a warm blanket. She’d never before experienced this level of support from coworkers. She was used to fighting her own battles.
“Thank you.” The words didn’t feel like enough, but they were all she had.
“I don’t want to lose one of the best reporters on my staff.”
The blanket got a little warmer. “Thanks.”
Diego swallowed another deep drink from his water bottle. “Harold’s supposed to be covering the election. He shouldn’t have time to nose around your beat or anyone else’s. He’s supposed to be writing about the election issues, the candidates, and the candidates’ positions on the issues.”
“I know.” Shari arched an eyebrow. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Not well.” Diego scowled at the thin gray carpeting. “He’s had to rewrite every story he’s submitted at least once.”
“That explains why I haven’t seen many of his bylines.”
Diego sighed. His expression was as tense as Shari had ever seen it. “He definitely has a problem with deadlines, which is one of the reasons I can’t trust him with time-sensitive news.”
“A newspaper reporter who can’t make a deadline?”
“I don’t know what persuaded Perry to hire Harold for the paper.” Diego’s voice crackled with irritation.
“Harold was a lazy intern. Now he’s one of the laziest reporters I’ve ever worked with.”
“I agree.”
Shari’s thoughts scattered. “Then why is he still here? Perry’s not in charge anymore. You are.”
“I don’t want to give up on him.” Diego’s tone was simple.
Shari thought of all the people who’d given up on her, foster families, teachers, and employers. “I wish I’d had an employer like you when I first started out in the business.”
“If you had, you may not be the excellent reporter you are today.” Diego stood. “Are you sure you don’t need me to talk with Harold?”
Shari shook her head. “I’ve got this. If I can’t warn Hal off of my beat, he’ll always see me as a target.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Diego turned to leave. “I’ll see you later tonight when the team meets to discuss the case.”
“Diego.” Shari stopped him with her voice. “Is there any reason you wouldn’t want Heather to run for reelection?”
Surprise swept across Diego’s features to be replaced by his customary amusement. “Am I a suspect?”
“I’m just doing my due diligence.” Shari’s skin heated uncomfortably with embarrassment.
Diego once again propped his shoulder against the entrance to her cubicle. “I agree that I’m a viable suspect. Heather and I do have a volatile past.”
“But you’re not holding a grudge against her. She’s angry with you.”
Diego shrugged his eyebrows. “I did ask you to spy on her.”
“But if you had deplorable reasons for spying on her, you wouldn’t involve me in your plans.”
“Probably not.” Diego cocked his head. “I knew about the finance meeting.”
“So did everyone who reads the Telegraph.”
“Then maybe I just want her to leave Briar Coast.”
“But you don’t.” Shari was as certain of that as she was of her name.
“What makes you so sure?”
She held Diego’s curious gaze. “Because you’re still a little in love with her.”
Surprise flared in his eyes before he masked their expression. “Direct as always.”
Shari watched him walk away. That was one less suspect on their list.
* * *
“What are you doing here?” Heather watched Diego settle onto Sister Lou’s sofa Thursday evening. He was barely an arm’s length from her. Was he going to sit there for the whole meeting?
She’d been surprised when the newsman had joined her, Sister Lou, Chris, Shari, and Sister Carmen for dinner, but she’d thought he’d come for the meal. She hadn’t considered that he’d follow them afterward to Sister Lou’s quarters on the third floor of the motherhouse.
“I want to help.” Diego held her gaze as though daring her to turn him away.
She wouldn’t dream of it. After mulling over Sister Lou’s observations today, Heather had come to the realization that she could use all the help she could get.
“Thank you.” Heather smiled at Diego’s failed attempt to mask his surprise at her rapid acquiescence. The woman she’d been when they’d first known each other wouldn’t have accepted his help. Actually, the woman she’d been last week wouldn’t have accepted his help, either.
“You’re welcome.” Diego frowned. “I’ll also take you to work in the morning, then bring you back here at the end of the day.”
“Don’t push it, Diego. That won’t be necessary.” Heather started to turn away, but Diego’s warm hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“You should have a protective detail. You’re a public figure who’s been threatened.”
“I’ve already been chased out of my home.” Heather shifted to face him, a little disappointed when his touch fell away. “I’m not going to walk around with armed guards as though I can’t take care of myself.”
“If you aren’t going to tell the deputies about this stalker, then I’ll—we’ll—have to protect you.”
Heather noted the glint of determination in Diego’s eyes and the bullheaded angle of his squared jaw. What was the appeal he had for her? She could feel him trying to lure her in just as he’d done almost fifteen years before.
“I don’t need babysitters.” Did her objection sound as weak to Diego as it sounded to her?
“We don’t have time for false pride.” Diego’s expression became even more determined. “Someone’s trying to kill you.”
“I don’t think so.” Sister Lou’s comment startled Heather from her disagreement with Diego. She’d forgotten that she and the newspaperman weren’t alone.
She flinched, jerking her head to look behind her. Sister Lou looked comfortable on her overstuffed armchair. Her gaze dropped to the blue, gold, and white cross pinned to the older woman’s taupe knit sweater. She’d noticed that all of the sisters wore the same pin.
“What do you mean? He’s already killed Opal.” Despite Diego’s measured question, the flush on his sharp cheekbones indicated he’d also forgotten that he and Heather weren’t alone.
“That’s true and I’m very sorry about Opal’s death.” Sister Lou crossed her legs at her ankles and leaned them to the side. The hem of the powder pink skirt she’d worn to Heather’s office that morning fell over her knees. “But the stalker admitted that he hadn’t planned to kill her.”
“He also said killing a second time would be easier for him.” Diego’s voice held a barely perceptible trace of... fear. “I’d rather not take that risk, Sister Lou.”
“Of course not.” Sister Lou looked at him with empathy. “I don’t want to risk Heather’s safety, either. I’m only pointing out that, after Heather was attacked during her evening jog two days ago, I realized that these threats aren’t about killing her, despite what the stalker implies. If he’d wanted to kill her, he would have done so Tuesday night. He could have waited for her in her home and caught her by surprise.”
“Aunt Lou’s right.” Chris joined the discussion in somber tones. He and Shari looked cozy together on the love seat across from Heather and Diego. “If this stalker wanted to harm the mayor, he wouldn’t send her a series of letters about it. He’d just do it.”
Heather struggled to suppress a shiver. “You probably think you’re all being very reassuring and comforting, but you’re not. This is actually disconcerting and . . . creepy.”
Shari regarded Heather as though puzzled. “Do you want to leave Briar Coast?”
Heather scowled. “No, of course I don’t want that. This has become my home.”
“Then buckle up, princess. This is going to get real.” Shari crossed her long, slender legs and folded her arms, which were covered by the long sleeves of her turquoise cotton sweater. “Your anonymous pen pal is obsessed with the mayoral race.”
Heather had opened her mouth to protest the “princess,” label, but Sister Lou’s nephew spoke first.
“The election is the key.” Chris nodded his agreement. “This stalker implies that he’ll do something drastic—unless you declare that you won’t run for reelection.”
“The fact that he wants you out of the race makes me think he wants to run on your party’s platform.” Diego seemed deep in thought.
How could she feel both frozen with fear and on fire with outrage at the same time? Heather wrapped her arms around her torso in an effort to pull herself together. She watched Sister Lou reach for a notepad on the small walnut table beside her chair.
Shari’s voice stopped her. “I’ll take the notes, Sister Lou. I’ll need them when I eventually write this story.”
Heather frowned at Shari’s pointed look. “You’re not going to write that story anytime soon, are you?”
Shari’s gaze shifted to her editor. “Diego and I will let you know when we’re ready to publish it.”
Heather’s scowl deepened. That wasn’t the response she’d wanted, but she’d let the matter drop. For now. She followed the investigative reporter’s movements as Shari dug into the large purple tote bag beside her feet and pull out a reporter’s notebook and a ballpoint pen. Heather took a moment to admire Shari’s navy stilettos, which exactly matched the other woman’s narrow-legged slacks.
Sister Lou smiled at Shari. “Our suspect is someone who opposes Heather’s administration. He has access to her office and her schedule, and knew about her spare key.”
Heather spoke to keep from gaping. “How can you sound so certain that those are the exact characteristics of the person we’re looking for?”
Sister Lou shook her head. “These aren’t the aspects of your stalker. They’re just some of the puzzle pieces that fit the bigger picture.”
“That’s right. This is a start.” Chris caught Heather’s attention. “This person is obviously someone who opposes your administration; otherwise he wouldn’t want you to leave. And he must have access to your office to deliver his messages.”
Heather turned her attention back to Sister Lou. “You haven’t actually narrowed down the list of suspects. A lot of people oppose my administration. My margin of victory over Owen Rodney was very small, not even twenty percent. Everyone has access to my office. My door’s always open when I’m in the building. Anyone can walk in.”
“How many people knew about the spare key to your home?” Shari sounded defensive. It was as though she took Heather’s comments as criticism against Sister Lou and wasn’t happy about it.
“Not many,” Heather conceded.
“Sister Lou’s observations are important.” Diego added his support for Sister Lou’s preliminary assessment of their suspect. “Every detail that we can identify puts us a step closer to this guy.”
“All right.” Heather squared her shoulders and faced Sister Lou. “What’s next?”
“We’ll put together our initial list of suspects.” Sister Lou gestured toward the sofa on her left. “Then Chris, Shari, and I will meet with them.”
“I’ll help with those interviews, too.” Diego sat forward.
“What will I do?” Heather glanced at the others around the room.
“Wait for us to contact you.” There was a look of satisfaction in Shari’s reckless cocoa eyes as she gave Heather that order. “If you don’t want to give your stalker the satisfaction of telling the deputies about his threats, you certainly don’t want him to know you’re chasing around Briar Coast looking for him.”
“We’ll need your help to put together the suspect list.” Sister Lou’s tone was conciliatory. “We’ve already agreed to include your executive staff.”
Heather sighed in frustration. “I know we discussed that, but I think the stalker is a man. He lifted me while I was jogging. The members of my executive team are all women, and I’m pretty sure none of them could do that.”
Shari shrugged as though dismissing Heather’s concern. “They could be working with someone else.”
Heather threw up her arms. “Fine, but I feel as though I’m betraying them.” Heather jumped a bit when Diego wrapped his long, warms fingers around her right forearm.
Diego guided her arm back to the sofa cushion. “Wouldn’t it be worth your peace of mind to officially remove your team from the suspect list?”
“Your staff will probably also be able to provide us with insight that could help us identify your stalker.” Chris shifted as though making himself more comfortable on the love seat. His movements brought him closer to Shari.
Heather was marginally appeased by Chris’s statement. “That’s true. All right.”
Shari’s hand rushed over the top page of her reporter’s notebook as she documented their list. “We should add Owen Rodney to the list since everyone knows he wants his office back and he hates you.”
Heather arched an eyebrow at the reporter’s delighted observation about the former mayor’s feelings for her. “In that case, add Wesley Vyne. He hates me, too.”
“Oh yeah.” Shari seemed almost gleeful as she added the campaign donor’s name to the list.
Sister Lou leaned forward, returning her mug of chai tea to the serving tray. “Shari, could you also add Ian Greer’s name, please? Heather, you’d mentioned rumors that Town Council President Greer was considering running against you.”
“I’ve heard those rumors, too.” Shari didn’t look up as she continued with the list.
Heather frowned at the reporter’s notebook. “How many names do you have on the list?”
“Eight,” Shari answered cheerfully. “Arneeka, your chief of staff; Kerry, your admin; Yolanda, your legal counsel; Tian, your communications director; Penelope, your acting finance director—”
Heather interrupted. “We’ve just made Penelope permanent.”
Shari nodded as though in approval before continuing the count. “Ian, Owen, and Wesley.”
Heather’s eyes widened. “Wow, those are a lot of people.”
Sister Lou nodded. “And we’re just getting started.”