Chapter Four

Tess was just coming into the room with a tray of coffee things as Kathryn stormed out. Swerving to avoid spilling the hot liquid, she rolled her eyes then set the tray down on the desk.

“I take it Mrs. Morgan didn’t want to stay for coffee?” she asked Ben, her tone sarcastic. “What’s wrong with her, anyway? She looks like someone’s taken her favorite toy away.”

Ben hesitated. He didn’t want to gossip, certainly didn’t want Kathryn’s troubles known all over town. Though why he felt this sudden protective surge, he couldn’t contemplate.

“Oh, don’t worry, everyone knows everyone else’s business in this town. And while there’s some who think she’s just a little gold digger, there are others who wouldn’t blame her going for the chance to marry a bit of money. Not when you look at where she came from, with old Fitzgerald too drunk every night to even see if his daughter had something to eat and clothes on her back.”

Uninvited, Tess poured coffee, handing a cup to Ben then taking the visitor’s cup for herself and perching on the edge of a hard wooden chair. Ben knew he shouldn’t encourage her, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“So what else do they know in town?” he asked casually.

“Well, they know you were born here, that you’ve done pretty well for yourself, being a hero in the army and getting into the police and all that. Most people think it’s a shame you were wounded, or maybe you’d have been bound for greater things than…” Tess stopped suddenly, her cheeks flaming. “Sorry. I have a big mouth.”

Ben grinned, relaxing finally after Kathryn’s visit. “No, not at all. The wounding did put a crimp in my career,” he said, happy to emblazon his cover story. The truth was he’d recovered well and gotten a promotion in the bargain.

“The gossips also remember you went out with Kathryn for a few dates, back then. Said you seemed mighty fond of each other. Then you just disappeared and the next thing is she’s married to Ket Morgan and has the world at her feet.”

Ben knew Tess was watching him covertly, observing his expression for future dissemination with her friends. He took a long swallow of his coffee, considering his reaction.

“That was a long time ago. She’s done a lot better for herself than hanging onto a poor police officer with no prospects,” he said, grinning disarmingly and enjoying the sweep of color in Tess’s cheeks.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think any girl would find you a pretty good catch.” The color deepened in her cheeks, and Ben took pity on her.

“Well, I bet most would think Ket Morgan was a pretty good catch, too.”

“Maybe some would, but not that many around here envy Kathryn.” Tess’s tone took on a serious note. “They say there’s not a lot of happiness up in the fancy house that Ket’s granddaddy built. In fact, there wasn’t a lot of happiness up there before Ket and Kathryn married. I’d say she has her work cut out for her.”

Ben itched to question her further, but to do so would only set fuel to the speculation about his relationship with Kathryn. And obviously, there was enough of that already. Anyone knowing their history and witnessing the incident at the banquet would be forgiven for adding two and two together and getting five.

Ben turned the conversation around asking Tess if she enjoyed her job and about her family and her boyfriend, a police officer on traffic patrol. A few minutes later, she gathered up the tray of coffee things and left him to digest all that had been said.

He reluctantly returned to his study of the files, determined to shut out any thought of Kathryn’s troubles. She had nothing to do with him, and he refused to get involved in whatever game she was playing.

Then he found a record of an arrest for assault, and the name of the arrestee sounded familiar. Noting that the charges had been dropped, Ben searched back through some earlier documents. There it was—three previous arrests for assault attributed to one Bertie Hanover. Reading the files, Ben quickly saw the assaults were all made against members of the committee trying to unionize the workers at the Morgan Shoe Factory. In addition, Hanover himself was an employee of the factory. Charges were dropped in all cases.

“No smoke without fire,” he muttered to himself, keying the name into his computer and requesting any information available from statewide law enforcement records about the man. He made a note of Hanover’s address in his notebook and determined to stop by on some pretext to chat with him. Maybe, too, he could chat with some of his colleagues and find out why a man with three consecutive charges of assault laid against him had not made a single court appearance. Charges had been dropped in each instance, and Ben didn’t believe in such coincidences.

He was just slipping on his jacket when the intercom sounded on his desk. “Looks like you’re having a Morgan family day, Sheriff,” Tess said. “Ket Morgan’s secretary just rang and commanded your presence up at the big house. They’d like to see you as soon as possible.”

****

Kathryn paced the length of the spacious living room, oblivious to the luxury of its furnishings, her mind engaged with her current anxieties. She no longer noticed the opulence of the big house and always felt more like a visitor than the mistress of the twenty rooms filled with antiques and works of art. Not to mention being treated like an inept servant rather than the wife of the man who lounged comfortably on the white leather sofa, reading the financial section of a newspaper and occasionally directing a mockingly cruel grin in her direction.

Worry about her son had finally pushed away the question that rose more and more often in her mind—had she done the right thing? Kathryn had known from the beginning that her life as Ketler Morgan’s wife would not be an easy one, but nothing could have prepared her for the bitter reality. Yet she would take all the punishment and humiliation, the unhappiness and loneliness, for Alex’s sake. With the Morgan name and wealth behind him, the boy would have a bright future. But what if Ket was now determined to destroy the child? What would he gain?

The sound of the door chimes jolted her back to reality. Ket had been furious when he’d learned she’d been to see Ben about Alex’s disappearance, but if she’d hoped that would make him confess he had the boy and bring him back home, she’d been well off the mark.

Ket had stuck to his story that Alex had wandered away when they stopped for gas and he had no idea where the boy was. Challenged, Ket had insisted it was a boyish prank and Alex would eventually find his way home.

“You’ve always spoiled the brat rotten, mothering him, turning him into a whining momma’s boy. It’ll do him good to have a taste of reality,” he’d told her, grinning maliciously.

“But the child’s barely seven—he’s far too young to be out on his own!” Kathryn protested.

Her words were met only by mocking silence.

Screwing up all her courage, Kathryn persisted. “Which gas station where you at when Alex…disappeared?”

“What the hell difference does that make?” Ket snapped, glaring at her.

Kathryn swallowed and took a deep breath. “Because I went to see Sheriff Asher earlier…”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Ket exploded angrily. “You did what? I thought I warned you not to go sniffing around your old boyfriend!”

“I thought it would be a good idea if I could tell him where Alex was last seen so that if…” she fought back tears. “…so that if he’s not home by this evening, they could go and look for him.”

The idea of her having further contact with the acting sheriff seemed to add more fuel to the smoldering anger which always rode on Ket’s shoulder. He left his seat to stand threateningly over her and for one horrified moment, she thought he’d really lose his temper and hit her. But he pulled back from the brink, contenting himself with a vicious pull of her hair, then ordered Andrew Shepherd, his secretary, to call Ben and ask the acting sheriff to dance attendance.

Since then, Kathryn had been in a lather of anxiety, not only about her son, but also about her husband’s unpredictable temper. Why had he summoned Ben? She hoped against hope that he was going to give the law officer the truth, or at least get him looking for Alex. But she knew Ket too well to really believe that,

****

They were waiting for him in the living room. At least, Ben assumed you’d call it a living room; it was about the size of an average ballroom and about as homely and welcoming as an upmarket hotel foyer.

As the housekeeper took his jacket and led him through the wide front entry hall toward the double doors to the living room, Ben couldn’t repress the bitter thought that Kathryn had certainly known what she was doing, shooting for the brass ring with Ket Morgan.

She was pacing the room when he entered, but whirled around in time to catch the harsh contemptuous look on his face. Her expression closed against him, but not before he’d seen the raw pain and longing that appeared there. For what? For her missing child? Or for him?

Too bad, baby—you can’t have it all. He turned his attention to Ket Morgan. The slender, fair-haired man was handsome, he supposed, in a boyish way. He was slumped and apparently quite at ease on the expensive, white leather sofa, his calm lack of concern at total odds with his wife’s distress. Despite himself Ben felt a curl of distaste that went beyond his own suspicions that the man was guilty of criminal acts.

“You asked to see me, Mr. Morgan?” He kept his voice neutral and managed to sound as if he’d just dropped around when he had time, rather than rushing to answer Morgan’s summons. He disliked the demand to appear and had to admit to some spite as he had certainly broken no speed records in getting to the house.

“It took you long enough to get here. I hope citizens in great need of rescuing from criminal elements in Lobster Cove don’t have to wait as long for your attention,” Ket said lazily, not bothering to hide the edge of contempt in his voice.

Ben bristled and Kathryn, looking pale and frightened, glanced anxiously at the two men before offering them drinks.

“I’ll have my usual, darling,” Ketler drawled when Ben shook his head. Kathryn flashed him a look, opened her mouth as if to snap a reply to her husband, then seemed to think better of it, and mildly walked toward the antique oak cupboard that housed a selection of bottles and glasses. She played her hostess role hollowly, going through the motions while her mind was obviously distracted.

“So, what can we do for you, Acting Sheriff Asher?” Ket Morgan asked as he accepted a glass of fine malt whiskey from his wife. Ben noted the man didn’t so much as glance at Kathryn, nor did he thank her for the small service. He found himself wondering just what kind of marriage this was—then stopped himself. For the sake of his own pride, and his sanity, he didn’t want to know about Kathryn’s marriage. He was determined to keep this to a professional relationship—with him as a law enforcement officer and she a potential witness in the criminal case he was building against her husband. That thought made his chest tighten because it would be a kind of betrayal. But nothing like her betrayal.

Dragging his thoughts back to the present, Ben was uncomfortably aware that Ket Morgan was staring at him with undisguised dislike and contempt. The sooner he figured out what was going on here, the better.

“If you remember, you asked to see me, Mr. Morgan. Your wife came to see me this morning and seems to think your son has been kidnapped. Perhaps you’re now of the same opinion?”

“My son…” The bitter smile on Morgan’s face seemed almost a grimace of pain. “Yes, yes, I know now he’s been kidnapped.”

Kathryn gave a little gasp of shock, and Ben could see her hands clench into fists, the pink-tipped nails biting into her palms. He wondered if Ket Morgan knew how angry his wife was and how hard she was trying to restrain herself from pummeling the man’s smug face with those delicate fists.

“Kathryn…Mrs. Morgan seems to feel you know where the boy is.”

Darn it. Ben couldn’t fail to see the anger that slashed across Ket’s face at the use of his wife’s first name. He had to remind himself to not be so familiar, even though his hormones still set up a mighty clamor at the very sight of Kathryn.

“I was under the impression my wife didn’t feel much of anything, Asher.” Ket flicked a cruel look at his wife, adding, “Although, of course, you might know better about that than I.”

“Okay, Morgan, just what is this all about? Your son disappears. First, you say he wandered off and now you say he’s been kidnapped. Your wife seems out of her mind with worry, and you don’t seem to give a damn about anything except making snide remarks about some unimportant events in the past.” Ben could barely control his own temper, but he regretted the words when he heard Kathryn’s sharp intake of breath.

“Did you hear that, my dear? Seems Acting Sheriff Asher has relegated what you thought was the love of your life to some ‘unimportant events in the past.’ Now, what do you think about that?”

Ben winced at the raw cruelty in the other man’s voice, but Kathryn seemed to scarcely notice.

“You know where Alex is, Ket. I don’t know why you’re playing this game, or why you’re trying to punish me in this way—”

“You don’t?” Morgan replied, his gaze fixed on Ben.

Suddenly, Ben saw what was going on, and a sickening clot of guilt formed in his stomach. This all had to do with the other night, at the civic reception, when Kathryn had filled his senses and he’d lost his grip on reality. Ket Morgan knew that. Now to punish Kathryn, he’d taken her son away. Ben ached to grab the vicious bastard and shake him until he told Kathryn where their child was, but he knew to do so would be to blow the other case he was working so hard to build.

Instead, he injected a humble note into his voice, even though the effort nearly killed him. “Mr. Morgan, if this is anything to do with the other night, then I apologize.” The words hurt his throat, but he was doing this for Kathryn’s sake. “I got a bit carried away, drunk I guess. Your wife is very attractive, as you say. It wasn’t her fault, and nothing happened.”

“I’m pleased to hear that.”

“Then bring Alex home!” Kathryn’s plea filled the lovely room with pain.

“But, my dear, I’ve told you over and over again…I don’t have a clue where he is. Alex has been kidnapped.”

“By you!”