Lethal Legacy Read online

  Art had been Andi’s passion, astronomy all of theirs. Many nights, her dad had set up the telescope on the back deck, and the three of them had studied the sky. Stargazing had been one of many activities he’d shared with Dennis Wheaton. Andi’s dad was the father he’d never had.

  Well, he had a father. Bryce just hadn’t seen him often enough for it to count. On those rare occasions when the old man did pop in, the visits had done more harm than good. If it weren’t for Dennis Wheaton’s influence, Bryce’s life would have taken a different turn.

  “I need to call your dad.”

  She looked at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You can’t. He was killed in a car accident on Thanksgiving Day.”

  His breath whooshed out and he slumped against the wall. A sense of emptiness swept through him, as cold and dark as space itself. “How?”

  “I don’t know. He missed a curve and drove off a cliff.”

  Bryce slid down the wall until he came to a seated position against it. Dennis Wheaton was gone. He couldn’t be. This had to be a bad dream.

  But it was real, just like the woman standing in front of him, looking as broken as he felt.

  He shook his head. “That’s why he didn’t come.”

  “What?”

  Sirens sounded in the distance. The police would be there shortly. He crossed his arms, trying to stave off a sudden chill.

  “Your dad was here the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving. The next day, he called and said he wanted to meet with me that weekend. When he didn’t show up, I figured he’d gotten busy.”

  Andi righted the desk chair and lowered herself into it. “Did he say why he wanted to meet?”

  “Just that he wanted to talk with me. He sounded like a man ready to unload a heavy burden. I asked him if everything was okay. He said, ‘It will be soon.’”

  Her eyebrows lifted and her jaw dropped as the color drained from her face.

  “Andi?” He rose to put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Living with my mother wasn’t easy, but he always seemed to not let her criticism bother him. For the past few months, though, things were different.”

  “Different how?”

  “Something had been weighing him down. He seemed preoccupied, even depressed. I tried to talk to him, but he kept denying anything was wrong.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “The signs were there, and I didn’t recognize them.”

  “What signs? What are you talking about?”

  “Depression, withdrawal. Losing interest in activities he’d always enjoyed, like coming up here.” She lifted her head, and her gaze locked with his. “The comment he made to you—that everything was going to be okay soon. It’s all clear now. I should have seen it.”

  Now he knew where her thoughts had gone. And how much sense they made. Maybe Dennis had called him to talk about his struggles, guy-to-guy, not wanting to unload on Andi, then hadn’t been able to hold out any longer. Or maybe he’d gotten involved in something he regretted and wanted to clear his conscience but hadn’t had what it took to face the consequences.

  No, not Dennis. He had too much integrity. And he loved life too much.

  Andi’s brows drew together, and her eyes filled with pain. “When I add it all together, I’m afraid my dad drove off that mountain intentionally. And he took my mother with him.”

  TWO

  Andrea tipped back her head and stared into the endless expanse. Stars were strewn across the sky from horizon to horizon, like rhinestones against black velvet. She tightened her hands around the steaming mug of herbal tea, soaking in the heat.

  She’d gotten enough accomplished today to feel good about sitting on the back deck and doing nothing. She’d given the place a deep cleaning and put everything back in its proper place. Then she’d made a list of repairs to be done, whether she sold the house or kept it. Most important, she’d had a handyman replace the broken pane in the living room window. It was how the assailants had gained access. Though the missing piece of glass was obvious in the daylight, she hadn’t noticed it last night.

  She’d hoped her cleaning would uncover some clue about what had been going on in her dad’s life. The only thing she’d found raised more questions than it answered. It was a simple two-line poem, scrawled on a sheet of yellow paper torn from a legal pad—“When a secret is too heavy to keep, it’s always best to bury it deep.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Was the secret what he’d wanted to talk to Bryce about? Was the weight of what he’d carried so heavy he’d felt he had no way out?

  She sipped the tea, relishing the heat as it traveled down her throat. The temperature had dipped as soon as the sun went down. But there was something soothing about sitting under the stars, holding the hot cup, with peaceful silence all around her.

  There was a party going on right next door. Bryce and his two best friends had had a cookout and were now watching a movie. He’d invited her, even assured her she wouldn’t be the only woman. One of his friends was married, the other engaged. She’d passed.

  When he’d told the dispatcher his name last night, she’d almost fallen off the couch. She’d known if she spent much time at the Murphy place, she’d eventually run into him. But she hadn’t thought it would be so soon. And she hadn’t planned to greet him in a fog, on her hands and knees.

  And she hadn’t expected him to look like he did, all buff and mature. Though common sense told her he would’ve changed, she’d somehow held on to the image of the smiling teenager she’d fallen in love with at age fourteen.

  Last night, he hadn’t been smiling. And he wasn’t a teenager anymore. He’d radiated confidence, maturity and a sense of power that was mesmerizing, standing above her, a pistol at his hip.

  What was it about a man in uniform that women found so irresistible? Whatever it was, Bryce definitely did the Cherokee County garb justice.

  Andrea swallowed the last of her tea and held the empty cup, drawing the heat from the porcelain. A wind gust swept along the back of the house, and a shiver shook her shoulders.

  She stood to go back inside, then hesitated. Had she seen a glow deep in her woods? She waited for several more moments.

  There, near the left-hand edge of her property. Or maybe it was coming from the Langman place and wasn’t even in her woods.

  The glow moved rightward in an erratic path, as if someone was walking with a flashlight. Whoever was prowling the woods was definitely on her property now. Was it the men who’d been in the house last night, coming back to finish their search?

  She pulled her phone from her rear pocket and stared at the screen. If she called the police, it would take a unit twenty minutes to arrive. If the prowler was still there, he’d take off as soon as he heard sirens.

  There was another option. Bryce had said to call if she needed anything. He was right next door. And he was law enforcement. Based on what he’d told her, so was one of his friends. They could be there in less than a minute, both armed.

  She went back in to retrieve the business card Bryce had left on the rolltop desk and punched the number into her phone. The decision was a no-brainer. Looked like she was going to meet Bryce’s friend after all. If she had cell service.

  Though the phone showed one bar, the call wouldn’t connect. She returned to the deck and squinted into the woods. The light was still there. When she checked the phone, the screen showed “dialing.”

  “Come on, connect already.”

  She moved across the back of the house toward Bryce’s property. If the signal didn’t get strong enough soon, she might as well go knock on his door.

  She’d just reached the corner of her house when she heard the first ring. Bryce answered two rings later. There was no background noise on his end of the line. He’d either paused the movie or left the room. She told him the reason for her call. His next words were obviously not for her.

  “Grab your weapon. The neighbor I told you about has another prowler.”

  The neighbor I told you about? What did he tell them?

  Probably that someone had broken into the house next door. Even if he’d said more, what did it matter? Tomorrow she was heading back to Atlanta to be ready for Saturday’s funeral. She had no intention of hanging out with Bryce and his friends, even if she kept the place and used it as an occasional retreat.

  She disconnected the call, then made her way to the back door. She’d stay locked inside until Bryce and his friend arrived.

  When she swung the screen door open, the outer edge dropped a half inch. The hinges needed longer screws. Something else that would have to be done.

  The property wasn’t in total disrepair, but since her dad had inherited the place, he’d done the bare minimum to keep it from crumbling to the ground. That was easier than listening to her mother carry on about how he was spending their hard-earned money on something he should have unloaded long ago.

  Andrea frowned. Their hard-earned money was a misnomer, since her mother hadn’t done the actual earning. With a father who was a senior partner in a huge personal-injury law firm, Margaret Cunningham-Wheaton had grown up spending money without having to worry about where it came from. And her family had made sure she could continue the habit. Going to college and falling in love with an accounting major hadn’t been in anybody’s plans.

  Andrea paced the floor while she waited. Her one-minute estimate was overly optimistic. One minute stretched into two, then three and eventually ten. What were they doing, waiting till the movie was over?

  When someone finally knocked on the back door, she flipped the exterior light on and looked out the dining room win
dow. Instead of two men on her deck, three were lined up side by side. She swung open the door.

  Bryce and a man she didn’t know kept a tight grip on the one in the center. Although she hadn’t recognized Bryce, Matt Langman, her other neighbor, was easily identifiable.

  His face had aged, more than it should have in the past twelve years. He’d lived a rough life. According to her father, he spent half his time in jail and the other half hatching up new ways to get into trouble. There was likely plenty of drug use involved, too.

  But a lot hadn’t changed. He still wore his hair in the same shaggy style and maintained that signature air of indifference. The cockiness hadn’t lessened one iota. He was too thin to be the one who’d slammed her into the doorjamb. But the accomplice could have been Matt. Their sizes were similar.

  “What are you doing on my property?”

  “Being held against my will by your boyfriend and his goon.” His eyes narrowed in the same malicious glare he’d always given her.

  She crossed her arms. She’d never done anything to him, had hardly spoken to him over the years. But he’d always hated her. He despised her for her privileged upbringing and the fact that Bryce’s relationship with her and her father had ended his friendship with Matt.

  But the bad blood went back further than that. Three generations, actually. Their great-grandfathers had been in business together and ended up with some irresolvable differences. Her great-grandfather had bought Matt’s out at a price the Wheaton clan insisted was generous and the Langman clan swore was highway robbery. The Langmans were still holding a grudge.

  “What were you doing on my property?”

  He tried to jerk away, but Bryce and his friend tightened their hold. “Going for a walk.”

  “At nine thirty at night?”

  He lifted his chin. “Cherokee County doesn’t have a curfew.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re trespassing.”

  “Not if there aren’t any signs.”

  Maybe he had her there. Before heading back to Atlanta, she’d stop by Tractor Supply and pick up a couple, along with a handheld staple gun. “I’ll have that remedied tomorrow.” Whatever Matt’s reasons, he was up to no good. “In the meantime, I’m giving you verbal warning. Stay off my property, or I’ll have you arrested.”

  “It’s not yours. It’s your dad’s.”

  “Since my dad’s dead, it’s mine.”

  For a brief moment, the cockiness fell away and his eyes widened. “Are you going to live here?”

  “I haven’t decided what I’m doing with the place yet.”

  His lips curled back in a sneer. “You need to take that snooty car of yours and go back to your fancy place in Atlanta. You don’t belong here.”

  Fire sparked inside and spread. Before she could formulate a response, Bryce gave him a shake.

  “That’s not for you to decide. You heard what Andi said. If you step foot on this property again, I’ll arrest you myself.”

  Matt opened his mouth but then apparently thought better of it. Instead, he shook off the hands that held him and sauntered toward the trees separating their two properties.

  Before leaving the circle of light emanating from the deck, he cast a glance over his shoulder. Even with the shadows, the hatred Andrea saw there sent a chill down her spine.

  When listing the pros and cons of keeping the property, Matt definitely belonged on the con side. She wasn’t about to let him push her around. But having to deal with an antagonistic neighbor needed to be a consideration in her decision. Especially when her safety was at stake.

  As for Bryce, she hadn’t decided whether his presence was a pro or a con.

  * * *

  “Stay.”

  Bryce extended his arm, palm angled toward Cooper. “You can’t go with me this time.”

  He moved down the porch steps, leaving behind a pouting dog, then headed across the yard under a steel-gray sky. A cold front was moving their direction. It probably wouldn’t bring snow. Murphy saw snow only a handful of times each year. November was a little early.

  Today Andrea was returning to Atlanta. She’d finished the funeral arrangements before coming to Murphy but still had a lot of paperwork to get through in the Wheatons’ Atlanta house.

  Tomorrow he’d make the two-hour drive himself. No way was he going to pass up the opportunity to pay his final respects to the man who’d made more difference in his life than anyone else on the planet.

  He stepped onto the trail that separated his property from Andi’s. He’d see if Andi needed help with anything before she headed out. After the funeral tomorrow, he had no idea when he’d see her again. If ever.

  Disappointment settled over him. Two days hadn’t been enough time to iron out everything that was wrong between them. He wasn’t sure what changes he’d expected in so short a time, but they hadn’t happened.

  When he reached her yard, movement drew his attention to the right. He looked that way as Andi disappeared into the woods. Where was she going?

  He jogged along the side of her house and to the back. The small yard sloped down toward woods that stretched all the way to a creek at the rear edge of the ten acres. Ahead, patches of red flashed between almost bare trees. He followed, now knowing her destination.

  When he reached her, she stood outside a small circular stone wall. Four posts held up a weathered roof. The crank that had at one time wound the rope to raise the bucket had frozen up years ago. He’d been there with her before. Many times.

  She glanced over one shoulder before turning back to stare into the dark depths. “This was one of his favorite places.” Her tone held wistfulness. “He used to say that most wells collect wishes, but this one collects burdens. Anytime something was bothering me, we would pretend to ball it up and throw it into the well.”

  The sadness radiating from her was almost palpable. But there was something else, too. She seemed tormented in more than a grieving sense. Her turmoil wove a path straight to his heart.

  He put a hand on her shoulder, and she tensed. He dropped his arm. Would he ever be able to offer comfort as a friend and have her accept it?

  “I’m sorry.” So much more than two words could convey. He was sorry for the way her life had been turned upside down, sorry for the grief she felt and sorry that he’d killed any chance of a friendship with one stupid decision.

  And friendship was all he hoped for. Dennis had told him about Andi’s divorce, but other than a brief reference to her husband cheating on her, he hadn’t given any details. All Bryce knew was she’d taken it hard. And she had walls around her heart a mile thick.

  Dennis hadn’t had to tell him the last part. He’d felt them for the past two days. And he didn’t have what it took to break them down. A few months ago, maybe. Before he’d expended every bit of emotional energy he had on a relationship, only to have it crash and burn in the end.

  A rain-scented gust whipped through, sending a shower of dried leaves down around them. Andi turned away from the well. “If I want to make my trip on dry roads, I’d better get going.”

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  “I’m already loaded and locked up. I just wanted to come out here before I left.”

  He fell into step beside her. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”

  “Not for a while.”

  They crossed the small yard, then continued along the side of the house. A piece of fascia on the gable end had worked its way loose, and the wood siding needed a fresh finish. If Andi wanted to sell the place, she’d need to have some work done. Or maybe she’d keep it as a weekend getaway.

  Not likely. If she’d “gotten away” anytime over the past twelve years, it hadn’t been to Murphy.

  He stopped in the driveway to stand next to the Escalade. “Until you decide whether to sell, I’m happy to continue keeping an eye on things. I’m sure it’ll take time to settle the estate.”

  “Settling the estate will be the easy part.” She leaned against the SUV, her brows dipping to form creases above her nose. “My dad added me to all their assets just two months ago. I didn’t question it at the time. He’s always been a planner. My parents have had wills as long as I can remember. But maybe this was more than good planning. Maybe he was putting his affairs in order for a reason.”