Relative Matters: A Helen Wiels Mystery, #4

By Rebecca A. Engel

Helen Wiels is keeping secrets. They aren't hers, but if she breathes a word about them, it could mean the end of some friendships she values.

Helen's past is not exactly a secret, but there was something in it she probably should have told Jackson Wagner before they married. She hopes when she does tell him, he won't resent that she hadn't been as honest with him as he'd been with her about his own family's past.

With Jackson's encouragement, Helen attempts to get some closure on her personal history. In doing so, she uncovers unsettling secrets about her relatives, and acquires a stalker in the form of a reporter who wants her story, and appears willing to do anything to get it. Or is the stalker after her for an entirely different reason?

Set in a small town in Northern Wisconsin, Relative Matters is Book 4 in the Helen Wiels Mystery series. The other Books in the series are:

Past Matters, Book 1

Money Matters, Book 2

Life Matters, Book 3

Fatal Maters, Book 4

Truth Matters, Book 5

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca A. Engel
• Release date: Jun 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533728852

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

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By the powers vested in me by the Church and the State, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.

As those words were said, Helen Wiels lifted a tissue to her eyes. She was almost certain everyone was watching the bride and groom, but on the odd chance someone was looking her way, she thought it would appear as if the moment had moved her to tears.

In reality, she was trying to prevent herself from seeing her friend Augie Burns kiss his new wife, Tina Hunter. She knew Augie was madly in love with Tina, and Tina claimed she felt the same way about him. Since they’d met and had almost instantly become a couple, Helen couldn’t stop herself from feeling that the two of them together was a big mistake. This marriage was simply compounding it.

Augie had a track record of picking women who were wrong for him. Since Helen had known Augie, who until a few days ago had been a homicide detective with the San Francisco Police Department, his first romantic involvement had been with a woman who was a murderer. Helen had been the unfortunate person who found her first two victims, and had almost become her third.

Then, in the aftermath of that ill-fated romance, Augie had met a nurse in the emergency room and immediately started dating her. It seemed logical to think that someone with her position would be understanding of a detective who worked erratic hours at best. That wasn’t the case. She had dumped Augie because she’d quickly become tired of coming in second to the newly murdered in their city. Then Augie had an eye on a new neighbor, a recent divorcee, but learned she was already involved with someone, and had been involved with him before her divorce became final. At least Augie had the sense not to persist in pursuing her.

Then Helen had invited him to her home in Wisconsin when her then-fiancé Jackson Wagner went missing. Augie was the one person she trusted enough to help her find Jackson. That was how Tina came into Augie’s life. He’d called meeting Tina un colpo di fulmine, because, like most men, he was a fan of The Godfather movies and he’d likened their meeting to Michael Corleone meeting his first wife in Italy, when love had hit him like a bolt of lightening. Augie was proving that was true because here Helen was, not quite two months after Augie and Tina first met, witnessing their wedding.

A large warm hand engulfed her own left hand and entwined their fingers. Jackson Wagner leaned close to her ear and whispered, Are you wishing we’d had a wedding like this one, in a big church, surrounded by family and friends?

Our wedding was perfect the way it was, Helen smiled as she looked at him, because you were my groom.

Jackson leaned toward her, and let his lips brush briefly over hers. I wish there wasn’t a reception after this, he murmured.

Me, too.

She knew Jackson meant he couldn’t wait until they could be alone together in their hotel suite, and Helen was in full agreement with that. They were practically newlyweds themselves, after all. Jackson had booked them into a San Francisco hotel he had a particular fondness for, the Capo di Monte. Jackson, until recently the head of a major corporation, was surprisingly sentimental and romantic; that hotel was the first place they’d spent the night together, in the same room and bed, that was. Helen had lived in Jackson’s house in Wisconsin as his employee before they got involved, which wasn’t until she’d left his employ and relocated to San Francisco.

Jackson had been insistent that they stay at the Capo for the wedding weekend. To Helen, the place was ridiculously expensive, and was made more so when Jackson booked them into the suite where they had first stayed. It was a penthouse, with its own private terrace, and two bedrooms, not that they needed two, then or now. Jackson’s insistence on staying at the Capo would have been all right with Helen if he’d been willing to take a smaller suite with its smaller price tag, but when Jackson wanted something, he was not to be denied. Only the penthouse suite where they’d stayed before would do.

While Helen would revel in being back in that suite with Jackson right at this moment, she had additional reasons for wishing that there wasn’t a reception following this ceremony.

She didn’t want to go to a reception because she didn’t want to witness Augie and Tina doing all those newlywed things couples did at wedding receptions.

She did not want to hear the guests clanking their silverware against a glass so that the bridal couple would kiss.

She didn’t want to watch Augie and Tina looking at each other in that moony, ‘We’re married now,’ way. She didn’t want to watch them holding hands; she didn’t want to see them take their first dance as husband and wife; she did not want to see Augie remove Tina’s garter, nor did she want to witness Tina tossing her bouquet.

She especially didn’t want to see them cut the cake and feed some to each other. Tina seemed the type who would smear it all over Augie’s face. Augie, usually so sensible, probably wouldn’t object in the least, and might think it was the cutest thing Tina had ever done. The idea of it made Helen want to gag.

She especially didn’t want to watch them go off in the night under a shower of rice to start their honeymoon.

Not when she knew Augie Burns was making such a big mistake.

Tina wasn’t trustworthy. When Augie found that out, it would break his heart.

Helen and Augie had become fast friends when she moved to San Francisco. She owed him her life, quite literally. She did not want to see him hurt, especially not by Tina Hunter. Helen was positive that Tina was going to hurt him, sooner or later.

There was another reason that Helen did not want to go to a wedding reception for Augie: his family. Augie came from a large family, seven kids in all. He was the last to get married, and all his married siblings had already produced a copious amount of children. All the children, and all their parents, looked exactly alike to Helen. Helen had called all three of his sisters by the wrong name already. At least she had recognized the nephew who had saved her life last fall by calling his uncle when he witnessed Helen being abducted.

Augie’s family all seemed nice despite the identification problems Helen had with them, but that did not make her want to attend the reception. She’d end up embarrassing herself further by her inability to tell the Burns family apart.

But Jackson clearly wanted to go. Helen was certain it wasn’t because he was paying for it and wanted to hear praise from people for his generosity. Helen was pretty sure that at this point no one knew he was footing the bills for everything connected to the reception: the hall, the catering, the bar, the band, the flowers, and the cake. Jackson had made those arrangements secretly and didn’t want any fanfare about it because he wasn’t one who craved recognition for things he did. While he was a man who loved his solitary time at his manor, isolated from the rest of the world outside a small Wisconsin town, he wasn’t a recluse; he was actually very comfortable in social situations. With his years of being the head of his international company, he was an expert at working a room. He could handle Augie’s look-alike family with ease and aplomb and never make a mistake with their names. He genuinely liked talking to new people and getting to know them. He was someone who didn’t ask a new acquaintance a question pro forma, then virtually ignore the answer; he listened to what the person had to say, and remembered their answer the next time he saw that person. Socializing at the reception would not be a problem for him.

Helen wasn’t exactly anti-social herself. She was by profession a librarian – if she could get a position as one – and that type of job required daily interaction with the public. People might stereotype librarians as shy, shrinking violets, hiding in the world of books. The reality was much different. A librarian had to deal with people of all types, the majority of them demanding. Helen could handle interacting with strangers almost as well as Jackson could work a room.

The problem for Helen was that as much as she loved Augie as a friend, she was finding it difficult to celebrate his marriage. Watching Augie and his bride glowing as they ran up the aisle, the marriage remained nothing to her but a big mistake. And there was something a little fishy about the way they were rushing into it...

People could say that about her and Jackson’s marriage, too. They’d known each other less than a year when they flew off to Vegas to tie the knot. They hadn’t invited anyone to come with them as either witness or guest. At least Augie and Tina were getting married in front of both friends and family.

However, Helen and Jackson didn’t have that latter option. Helen didn’t have any family, and Jackson’s one relative was a second half-cousin, Nicholas Conner, who had declared himself in love with Helen when he learned Helen and Jackson were about to elope. Jackson didn’t know anything about that. Helen hoped to keep it that way – forever. It hadn’t been that long since the two men learned they were related, and neither of them had any other family. Helen did not want to be responsible for causing an estrangement between them and ruining their almost-new familial bond. It was a good thing, then, that they hadn’t planned to ask Conner to accompany them to Vegas as a witness because otherwise it would have been awkward. To say the least.

When Augie had proposed to Tina – within mere weeks of their meeting – the original plan had been for Augie to fly back to San Francisco, tie up all loose ends, then return to Wisconsin where he and Tina would hold their wedding.

His large family had taken umbrage with that. His six married siblings had over thirty children between them already. Helen was pretty sure that at least one of his sisters was pregnant again, and quite possibly a couple of his sisters-in-law. The cost of flying all of the Burns siblings, their spouses and offspring to Wisconsin was not something their collective budgets could afford. Tina, on the other hand, had three siblings, none of them married. They could easily fly to San Francisco, whereas the Burns family would have been required to charter a plane to get all of them to Wisconsin at the same time. That would have cost a fortune, as would buying tickets for a commercial flight for that bunch. Jackson had been willing to provide a charter plane, but Augie had refused his offer outright. Helen had suspected that Augie wanted to get married in San Francisco instead of Wisconsin, so that he and Tina could have their wedding at the same church where his parents and all his siblings had married to uphold the family tradition. The church happened to have an opening for a wedding on the date they wanted. Augie and Tina had viewed that as being auspicious. Otherwise, to have their wedding in that church could have meant a wait of up to a year. Neither of them had wanted to wait that long.

Helen wished they’d been required to wait a year. She was absolutely certain that their relationship would have been over long before that. At some point, Augie would have opened his eyes enough to realize what Tina was really like, and he would have called it off.

Nothing could be done about that anymore. Tina and Augie were married. All Helen could do was wait it out, then be there when Augie needed consolation.

It’s time to go.

Helen looked up to find Jackson already standing, and waiting for her to rise. The church had nearly emptied out while Helen had sat there, fretting about the marriage and the upcoming reception.

The reception hall was another Burns’ family tradition. The parents and all their offspring had held their wedding receptions there. If that held true for the next generation of the Burns family, and all that came after that, the place would never go out of business.

Jackson drove, using the GPS system in their rental car to give him directions. Riding as a passenger, Helen couldn’t believe she had once driven these streets herself, as some of them seemed far too steep and very scary. Maybe they had felt different when she was behind the wheel.

Before we head home tomorrow, do you want to drive by where you lived and worked?

If there’s time. It wouldn’t matter much to her if they didn’t. She did have some fond memories of her tiny apartment, or at least of the time Jackson had spent with her there when he’d visited. Otherwise, it was the place where she’d almost succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning, and where the old lady upstairs hated her without having met her. She wondered if the tenant who’d replaced her had that same problem with the woman.

As for the society where she’d worked? Its building was impressive. When she’d first started that job, though, they had stuck her in a dank, dark basement until she’d found a dead body there. Then, when she’d moved upstairs to the building’s private library, she’d found another body there. Later, at her otherwise seemingly nice boss’s direct order, she’d been forced to leave with the man who abducted her and then let his wife take over the execution they’d planned for her. Fortunately, thanks to Augie’s nephew and Augie’s intervention, the killer – Augie’s alleged girlfriend, who happened to be married, unbeknownst to him – hadn’t been successful.

We’re here. Jackson slowed down and turned into a parking lot already jammed with cars. Looks like we may have to find street parking.

Good luck with that. Helen remembered how difficult it was to find parking in this city.

Jackson slid into what appeared to be the final empty spot in the parking lot. Some people were born under a lucky star, or at least it seemed that way at times. Considering what he’d been through recently, though, Jackson’s lucky star had blacked out for a while. It seemed to be back, at least where finding parking was concerned.

A cacophony of noise washed over them the minute they stepped through the doors of the banquet hall. From its outside, it appeared to be a nondescript building whose function could not be determined by anything other than the sign on it. Without that sign, it could have been mistaken for a factory, a warehouse, or storage units. Although the décor was rather hokey, the unexpected appearance of Roman columns and murals, which made the interior seem as if they had entered a villa in Italy, was an unexpected surprise. The band was already playing, and the dance floor was filled with gyrating couples. Helen followed along as Jackson began to work the room. He somehow managed to greet all members of the Burns family by name unerringly, right down to the youngest of the children. Helen had tried to predict their names as they approached the family members; she’d been wrong every time. If she’d first met them one-by-one instead of en masse, she might not be having this problem. Absently, and unexpectedly, she found herself hoping that Tina was having better luck remembering who was who than she was.

Servers were gliding by with hors d’oeuvres. Jackson stopped one of them and plucked several canapes off a tray. Helen picked out one item when the waiter presented the tray to her. She had no idea what it was, and didn’t have a clue after she ate it either. That didn’t bode well for the meal that was to come. Whatever it was she had eaten, it had left a sticky feeling on her fingers. She excused herself to Jackson and went in search of the ladies’ room to wash her hands.

That room was blessedly quiet compared to the hall itself, although the throb of the bass could be felt in the washroom. Helen was surprised to discover that the room was empty. She’d expected to find a line of ladies waiting to use the facilities, the way there always was at every other well-attended event she’d been to. When were architects or interior designers or whoever was in charge of such things going to get a clue and make ladies’ rooms at public venues exponentially bigger than they currently were?

By the time Helen reached the sink area, she saw she’d been wrong about the room being empty. One of the stall doors was shut. From behind it came the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting violently.

Helen wondered what she should do: tap on the stall door and ask if she could be of any help, or give the woman privacy. She wondered about the cause of that woman’s illness. She hadn’t seen anyone with drinks in their hands, so it didn’t seem as if someone could have drunk enough to be sick at this point. Was there something in the appetizers that was soon going to have everyone in attendance vying for a place where they too could vomit? Why had she eaten anything here? She hadn’t been hungry and had taken an appetizer because it was there. Jackson had taken a number of them. If she had to, she could drive them back to the Capo if Jackson was too sick to manage it. She’d driven on San Francisco streets before; she could do it again.

Helen had her hands washed and was reaching for a paper towel when the toilet flushed and the stall door opened. Via the mirror, she saw Tina emerge. Helen spun around.

Tina, are you all right?

Tina didn’t say anything at first. She headed straight toward a sink, turned the water on, and cupped her hands to catch the flow. She brought the water to her mouth, slurped some of it in, swished it, then spat in the sink. She shook the excess water from her hands and patted them against her slightly green face before she reached for a paper towel and blotted herself dry.

I hope that’s it, she said. I thought this was supposed to be over by now. It must have been the smell of that rumaki that set me off. Or at least I hope that’s what it was, because I didn’t think this would go on into the second trimester. And it’s not limited to the mornings. Boy, I’m tired of puking my guts out.

In the mirror, Helen saw Tina’s expression change from sick to grim as she realized what she had said and to whom she’d said it. She turned toward Helen, eyes narrowed. You did not hear me say that. And don’t you dare say anything to anyone about this. Ever!

CHAPTER TWO

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Tina was pregnant? Tina was in the second trimester of a pregnancy? That meant she was over three months along... and she’d met Augie two months ago.

Is it Conner’s? Helen’s question came out in a horrified whisper.

Boy, aren’t you the math whiz? You didn’t even need a calculator! So what if it is?! You heard me. You don’t say anything to anyone about this! Tina’s expression was threatening. She was looming over Helen, her teeth bared almost like a wolf or a rabid dog. Don’t you dare say a word! She turned abruptly and stalked out of the room.

Helen practically staggered to a chair in the small lounge area and sank into it. Tina was pregnant. It had to be Conner’s baby. She couldn’t be over three months along with Augie’s baby if she’d met him two months ago. Until three months ago, Tina had been living with Conner. She’d broken up with him because he didn’t want to get married. Was that why she had pushed for marriage, because she was pregnant? Unknown to Augie, Tina was foisting Conner’s baby onto him. Tina was probably going to try to pass it off as premature when its birthweight could be as much as eight pounds or more. Given Conner’s size, that would be considered a small baby with him as the father.

Helen suddenly felt like she was going to be sick herself. She had thought the pairing of Augie and Tina was a mistake from the moment they laid eyes on each other, and that was when she didn’t have an inkling about this situation. It proved she’d been right. Augie was a genuinely nice guy, and here was Tina, using him this way.

If Tina had been and apparently still was, as she put it, puking her guts out, why hadn’t Augie noticed? Augie was a detective, for Pete’s sake. How had he not made the connection between her vomiting throughout each day and a pregnancy that predated him? Tina must have fed him some line about having food allergies or a sensitive stomach or some such nonsense. Augie did tend to idealize the women he went out with, and did not see their flaws. Tina had probably honed in on that tendency and worked it to her advantage. That story she’d told him about raising her younger siblings after both her alcoholic parents died could have been a ploy to soften him up and make her seem like a nobler person. Was he going to be in for a surprise!

Helen got up and went back to wash her hands again. Her encounter with Tina made her feel soiled once more. Then she opened the door to a wall of noise, and went in search of Jackson.

~ ~ ~

The car hit a pothole. The resulting jolt sent all the air out of Helen’s lungs with an ‘oomph.’

Jackson, we’ve got to do something about this driveway. I know you like your privacy, but it’s ridiculous that we’re jolted around like this every time we go out and come home. Can’t we get the whole thing paved?

Then we’ll get curiosity seekers driving up to the house all the time.

Not if we use the gate.

That gate’s made for emergencies. That mechanism isn’t meant for daily use.

It was a weird gate. Helen had never seen one like it before and hadn’t known it was there until they’d been forced to use it to keep reporters out last year. It rose up from the ground when in use, and vanished back down into it when no longer needed. It probably didn’t work if there was snow on the ground. Then let’s get a new gate, and have the driveway paved too so we can come and go without feeling like we’re being tossed around inside a clothes dryer every time. Jackson didn’t say anything. Helen decided to bite the bullet and make the ultimate sacrifice. I’ll pay for it.

Jackson shot her a surprised look. You’re that serious about it?

I am. It will make it so much nicer for us—

And for anyone else who wants to see what’s up our driveway, Jackson grumbled.

Not if we have a gate that’s kept closed. Jackson, do you honestly believe this terrible, rutted driveway is keeping people out? They wouldn’t have to use the driveway if they were determined to see what’s at the end of it. They could leave their cars on the road and walk it. I know you’ve already got a fence hidden among all that greenery, so adding a gate that’s in use all the time makes sense, and so does paving the drive. Can we get that done, Jackson?

They’d reach the end of the unimproved portion of the driveway. The drive became paved at the point where the manor came into sight. The design of Jackson’s family home was based vaguely on Blenheim Palace, Winston Churchill’s birthplace. Seeing it was always a surprise. Helen remembered the first time she’d driven down that drive. The drive had been in such poor condition, she had expected to see some ramshackle shack. Instead, she had the feeling she’d been magically transported to the English countryside.

One of the surprising things she’d discovered was that as sizeable and splendid as the house was, Jackson lived there alone. He didn’t want any live-in staff. He didn’t do everything himself, though. He’d had a woman who bought his groceries, cooked for him, and left prepared meals for him to reheat. Jackson also liked to do a little cooking himself. He preferred simple dishes. Chili and flapjacks were his weekend specialties. He had a crew who came in to clean, and men who maintained the landscaping.

Over the relatively short time she’d known Jackson, most of that personnel had changed. His original cook had turned out to be a serial killer. The cleaning crew shirked their job, something of which Jackson had not been aware. Helen pointed their deficiencies out to him – cobwebs hung from every surface, and furniture was dingy with accumulated dust. Jackson found a new cleaning service. Conner himself had headed the landscape crew, and his company continued to do that work, but Conner no longer worked alongside them. He was now the head of Wagner Industries, the company Jackson’s great-grandfather and Conner’s great-great grandfather had founded. After those men had a falling out, Jackson’s great-grandfather, Hollis Wagner, had retained control of the company, while Conner’s great-great grandfather had moved on to other things. After Jackson was abducted earlier in the year, he had decided to retire, at least temporarily. He’d asked Conner to take over for him, not all that strange of a request because in addition to having a degree in landscape architecture, Conner also had an M.B.A., obtained to ensure his original career track of earth-inspired businesses, landscaping and a garden center, would be operated successfully. Jackson’s abduction and near-death experience had made him realize he wanted to devote himself to painting, which he’d given up after the man he’d considered his mentor had told him to go into business instead of the arts.

Helen herself was talentless in the field of art, although she could recognize talent when she saw it. Jackson had it. It had seemed appropriate, then, that his mother, herself an artist, had named her only child after her own favorite painter. Jackson’s full name was Jackson Pollack Wagner; Helen hadn’t known that until they were married. She had always assumed his middle initial of P stood for something like Paul, or Peter, or Patrick. She never would have dreamt it was for Pollack.

Baby? The back of Jackson’s fingers stroked her cheek. What’s going on with you? You zoned out in the church yesterday, acted distracted at the reception, and today you’re sitting there like we’re a million miles away instead of at our front door. Are you sure you’re not bothered by the type of wedding Augie and Tina had, the church, the hall, a band, a dinner, the whole shebang, when all we had was a little Vegas chapel?

Helen could hardly tell him it wasn’t Augie and Tina’s type of wedding that bothered her; it was that they had a wedding at all. As I told you in the church, as far as I’m concerned, we had the best wedding of any wedding because you were my groom. I didn’t want to wait through months of planning to be your wife. I thought you felt the same way about marrying me.

I did. I do.

Helen grinned. Yeah, those were the words you said. She leaned forward and kissed him gently. I might be a little jet lagged. I’m not used to traveling like you are. That was a pretty quick trip. I didn’t have time to adjust to the time zone there before it was time to head back here.

Okay, babe, then let’s go inside. I thought you’d want to head to the lake the minute we got back, but maybe you need a nap.

"I need a nap, or we need a nap?" she asked impishly.

I love a nap when you’re involved, he said, but this time, I think you need some actual rest.

Jackson disarmed the security system, then unlocked the front door. Helen was surprised that she felt like this was coming home. The first time she’d entered his house and had seen the black and white marble tile in the foyer with a knight’s armor standing in a corner, she’d wondered if the floor had been used as a chessboard in the past, with the staff serving as living chess pieces. Of course, that was when she thought the flannel-shirted blue-jean-wearing man who’d opened the door to her was the estate’s handyman. It had been Jackson himself. Helen discovered he was a down-to-earth man who would never dream of having a human chess game in his foyer.

Helen looked at the table in the foyer and saw it was bare. No one brought in the mail while we were gone?

Jackson slapped a hand against his forehead. I forgot. I meant to stop in town.

What do you mean, in town? Isn’t it delivered here? Helen had always assumed their mailbox was also hidden, like the fence and their driveway were, and that on days when there wasn’t any staff on the premises, Jackson brought in the mail himself. Helen had always meant to ask him where the mailbox was so she could take care of that chore herself if she wanted to, but it had always slipped her mind.

We have a box at the post office. I usually – or I used to – bring it home when I came home from work. Since I started working here, I go into town for it midday. I’ll go get it now.

How could she have forgotten that when she’d first moved here and asked Jackson for the mailing address, he had given her a post office box number, especially since she’d had to update her mail again when she’d moved back here from San Francisco? She’d barely given it a thought when she’d done it, and paid it less heed since. She never looked at the address on her mail after she received it; if it was in her hand, the address on it had to be right.

At least that explained the times he disappeared for a little while each day. She hadn’t thought he had a girlfriend stashed away someplace; for one thing, he was gone for too short a time. She hadn’t wanted to start out their marriage being the nosey, suspicious wife, and had restrained from asking him where he disappeared each day. There was no need to ask him a thing anymore. I’ll go with you.

No, you stay here and rest. I won’t be gone long.

She thought briefly about insisting she go with him. She already knew where the post office was and she didn’t think that finding where the boxes were within it would be that arduous a matter if it occasionally fell to her to pick up the mail. So she let Jackson head off by himself. She would go into the kitchen and make sure Mrs. Patterson had done her job while they were away, and that they had fresh food in the house. She didn’t expect to find that Mrs. Patterson had taken their brief absence as an opportunity to goof off, but it did give her something to do. She was having second thoughts about taking a nap. If she slept this afternoon, she might not sleep tonight. Besides, a nap wasn’t any fun if Jackson wasn’t with her.

That was why Helen was in the kitchen when she heard Jackson’s car approaching. She headed to the foyer to greet him. When he came in, she soon found she wished she’d taken that nap after all.

I’m glad you haven’t started your nap, Jackson said. His voice was neutral, so it didn’t raise any alarms. I know these have come for you each month since you’ve been here, dating back to before you went to San Francisco. I know it’s not my business, but I’ve always been curious about them.

Jackson had a half-dozen envelopes in his hands. She didn’t have to look at them to know which envelope he meant.

It’s for a storage unit, Helen said.

Obviously. I could already tell that from the envelope. What I’m curious about is why you have a storage unit.

Helen suppressed a sigh. If she’d switched her billing to email statements, this would have never come up. She couldn’t remember why she’d failed to do that. It’s just some stuff, she said.

Your stuff? Don’t you want it here?

It’s not mine. It’s some things I’m keeping. That was all she’d intended to say. Jackson, however, was giving her that look of his, the look that seemed to force you to tell him everything. Most of the time she managed to be invulnerable to it. The fact she was tired from the trip must have caused a chink in her mental armor. It’s stuff that belonged to my parents, she said grudgingly.

You’ve never talked about your parents that much. Did they retire someplace and have stuff you wanted for yourself but didn’t have a place for it? Jackson asked speculatively.

Not exactly. There was that look again. She once more felt herself weakening. Why not tell Jackson what it was; he was her husband, after all. I had to clean out my parents’ home after they died. I sold or gave away most of the furniture. What’s in the storage unit is mostly personal things that I needed to go through. I didn’t have time to do it then. So I stored it, that’s all.

That wasn’t all of it. Sometimes the storage fee, although low, was a struggle to come up with; she’d always managed to pay it by making sacrifices in other expenses.

Your parents are dead? I’m guessing they died at the same time from what you said? Were they in an accident?

Helen shook her head. She’d known this was going to come up sometime, and she might as well get it over with.

They weren’t in an accident. They were murdered.

CHAPTER THREE

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Having made that pronouncement, all Helen wanted to do was escape from the room. Even better than escaping from the room would be escaping from the house. A row on the lake suddenly seemed like a good idea.

But she also knew Jackson was Jackson. He wasn’t about to let her get away after saying such a thing.

How awful for you. He wrapped her in his arms. Why didn’t you tell me? When did this happen?

Usually when Jackson had his arms around her, Helen wanted to stay there for as long as she could. This time, though, what she wanted most was to get away from his questions. That wouldn’t do any good. The questions would be there when she came back, and of course she had to come back because this was her home, and Jackson her husband. What difference did it make if she told him? She knew all about what happened with his great-grandfather. Telling him about her parents was kind of like turnabout and fair play.

I was in my sophomore year at college. She let out a sigh because it almost hurt her throat to say those words. This was definitely something she never discussed with anyone. But this was Jackson. He deserved to know. She should have told him before they got married. I got a call from the police back home who told me my parents had been murdered.

Who did it?

Helen shrugged. They never found the killer.

Oh, baby. Jackson’s arms tightened around her. You didn’t have any family to offer you support, did you? That had to be horrible. I hope you had some friends who could be there for you.

Helen was the only child of only children. Like Jackson before she discovered his relationship to Nicholas Conner, she had no relatives whatsoever. She did have friends, both new ones she’d made at school, and old ones from her growing-up years. She hadn’t wanted to foist her troubles on them, but many of her old friends still lived in the area and came forward to help her when they’d heard the news. Oddly, most of her support had come from the detective who worked the case. He’d told her what to do and who to call once the bodies were released. She took care of everything as quickly as she could so she could get back to school. She wasn’t going to let this disrupt her education; she needed that education more than ever because she was going to be alone for the rest of her life. Meeting someone like Jackson – meeting anyone at all – was not something she had anticipated.

Jackson led her to a couch. Honey, do you want to tell me about it?

The truthful answer was no. Helen wanted to shove that event and the days that followed it down into some little corner of her mind and never bring it up again. She wanted to forget the shock of that sudden loss and her knowledge of the brutality her parents had endured in their last minutes of life. They hadn’t been the warmest, most loving parents in the world. Helen had often felt like she was nothing but a burden to them, an unnecessary expense they probably had regretted. That didn’t mean she had ever wished for what happened to them.

It must have troubled you after you came here and found out my great-grandfather had been suspected of killing his wife. I’m surprised you didn’t leave at once.

I never thought of doing that, Helen said, and that was the truth. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had thought of it; she’d needed the job. Walking away because of something that had happened generations before would have meant she’d have to work at some fast food place instead. In the end, it turned out Hollis Wagner hadn’t been a murderer but the intended victim of one and had been lucky enough to foil the plot to kill him.

You’ll feel better if you talk about it, baby. The back of Jackson’s fingers brushed along her cheek; his expression as he looked at her