Hidden In The Wall
Valerie Hansen

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

This book has to be dedicated to the five other

marvelous authors who participated in this series:

Shirlee McCoy, Margaret Daley, Carol Steward,

Lenora Worth and Marta Perry!

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to

Valerie Hansen for her contribution to the

REUNION REVELATIONS miniseries.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PROLOGUE

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.

—Proverbs 17:17

Trevor Whittaker swung the boom of the backhoe and took more and more bites of earth. If he hadn’t been paying such close attention, he might have missed feeling a momentary stutter of the equipment. Concerned, he peered at the partially dug trench then climbed down to take a closer look.

Steff had left a spade leaning against the building, so he grabbed it instead of returning to his truck for his own tools. The blade had connected with something hard. It looked like…

Trevor’s breath caught. He dropped the shovel and fell to his knees, frantically clawing at the earth. With trembling fingers he brushed aside enough dirt to be certain his imagination wasn’t playing tricks on him.

He reeled back on his haunches, appalled. These weren’t water or electric lines he had unearthed, they were bones. Human bones!

Suddenly a shadow fell across the trench. Trevor leaped to his feet, blocked Steff’s view with his body and grasped her arms to control her. “Don’t look.”

She tried to twist free. “Why not? Let me go.”

“No. There’s…” He thought about trying to distract her instead of revealing his gruesome find, then realized she’d never accept anything but the truth. “There’s a skeleton in the trench,” he said hoarsely. “It’s a grave.”

ONE

Two months prior

Slightly lifting the skirt of her pale blue satin gown so the hem wouldn’t brush against the asphalt, Stephanie Kessler picked up her evening bag, left her car in the parking lot of the Mossy Oak Inn and started toward the inn’s ballroom. This was not just another of the many gatherings she organized for Magnolia College as the Alumni Relations Director. It was also the ten-year reunion of her own graduating class and she wanted everything to be perfect.

Steff paused long enough to check her slim, jeweled watch. She’d been so eager to renew acquaintances she’d arrived far too early. Rather than waste time pacing inside the inn or rearranging the lovely table decorations for the umpteenth time, she decided to stroll across to her office on the opposite side of the campus.

Not only was the balmy June evening ideal for a leisurely walk, she reasoned, the exercise would help her unwind. And checking her e-mail would show her whether she’d had any last-minute answers to her recent pleas for alumni financial support. In spite of recent fund-raisers, she was still coming up short on donations for the planned library expansion. That was worrisome.

A welcome breeze lifted Steff’s short blond hair away from her cheeks. When she faced into the wind to take advantage of its refreshing coolness, her gaze rested on the imposing stone edifices of the college that had become the central focus of her life.

Campus was nearly deserted this time of year, which was why she was surprised to notice a tuxedo-clad figure whom she didn’t recognize hurrying around the far end of the liberal arts building.

Assuming from his attire that he must be planning to attend the gala at the inn, she noted he was headed in the wrong direction.

Since she had plenty of time to spare, Steff decided to do her good deed for the day, follow him, and help him find his way to the reunion.

The height of her heels and the unevenness of the old brick walkway slowed her progress. By the time she got to the next corner her quarry was already disappearing past the science building.

The newer walkway in that area was a flat cement surface and she was able to travel faster. She proceeded as far as the quad and paused, puzzled. Shading her eyes against the setting sun, she squinted as she studied her immediate surroundings. The man couldn’t have vanished into thin air. So where had he gone? Could he have ducked into one of the buildings they’d passed? Since no classes were in session this time of year, that didn’t make sense. Besides, why on earth would he want to hide?

Feeling foolish for having followed a stranger halfway across campus, she decided to give up and resume her trip to her office. That was when she spotted him. He’d been temporarily out of sight because he’d been bending over next to the east wall of the library and the foundation plantings had masked his position.

The man was pacing now, as if measuring the distance from the library wall to the sidewalk. What in the world could he be up to? Stephanie asked herself. More importantly, who was he?

The setting sun backlit his form, making him appear in silhouette and causing her eyes to water when she tried to stare directly at him. The one thing she could tell was how furtive his movements were. Whatever he was doing, he obviously didn’t want to be observed.

Internal warnings sounded in her brain and caused her to shrink into the shadows. Whoever he was, it would definitely be best if he didn’t know she’d been spying on him.

Steff’s nose tickled. Stupid allergies. She pressed her index finger across her upper lip to keep from sneezing. Her quarry had returned to the sidewalk and seemed to be walking along it with measured strides. Then he wheeled and repeated his path to the library wall at a right angle before he turned again.

Although she believed she was well hidden around the corner of the building, she held her breath. The man had stopped and seemed to be staring directly at her. Was he? Had he sensed that she’d been trailing him? She didn’t see how he could know she was here, yet his stillness and apparent concentration gave her chills.

When he finally moved away from the library wall, she relaxed slightly. Now he was wiping the soles of his shoes on the lawn. That particular planted area was in deep shade, perfect for azaleas but often overly wet, especially after the kind of spring rains they’d had the past few days. He’d probably gotten his shoes muddy.

Steff shifted her own feet slightly, thankful she’d had the good sense to remain on the grass.

The unmistakable sound of masculine cursing drifted to her across the distance. She stiffened. She was about to backtrack to avoid encountering such an ill-mannered man when her nose took control. A violent sneeze erupted before she could stifle it, so powerful it bent her over at the waist.

She straightened. Froze. Gaped and stared across the intervening space at the man she’d been studying. He, too, had ceased all movement. Then he took a step toward her and began to peer into the shadows where she hid.

For a heart-stopping instant Steff thought he might actually be planning to launch an attack. She held her breath and stood stock-still, hoping she wouldn’t sneeze again just in case he hadn’t really spotted her. Her palms were damp, her pulse fluttering, her muscles tensing for flight.

A split second later she knew the tuxedo-clad man had other plans. He whirled suddenly and ran, disappearing quickly around the corner of the library.

Still frightened in spite of the logical conclusion that he didn’t want a confrontation any more than she did, Steff turned and hurried in the opposite direction, back toward the inn.

The shadows created by the Spanish moss hanging from the trees reached out for her like clawing fingers of gray smoke. Every tree seemed to hide an unnamed menace, every footstep seemed to echo as if someone—or something—was closing in behind her.

She grabbed a handful of skirt to raise it out of her way enough to run, not caring that her high-heeled shoes were not designed for sprinting.

Every instinct insisted she had to get away. It didn’t help that she saw no one in pursuit when she glanced over her shoulder. The danger was there just the same. She could feel it all the way to her bones.

“We have a problem,” the caller said.

“I can’t see how.”

“Well, I can. I just paced it off. Unless they decide against building that annex by the east wall, the way they’ve planned, the new construction is liable to reveal everything.”

“Then see to it that they change their minds.”

“How can I do that?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Just do it. Use your influence as much as you have to. We both know we can’t allow them to do a lot of digging there.”

“It might be okay if they don’t go too deep or too far past the corner. I can’t remember exactly where the other trench was, can you?”

“Yes. But I’m not about to show up on campus and take the chance of ruining everything. You’re there. You handle it.”

He cursed as he stared at the phone in his hand. This was ridiculous. It shouldn’t be his problem. He’d briefly considered using violence to keep their secret but he knew there was no guarantee that either of them would get away with another so-called accident. They’d been pressing their luck so far. It was bound to run out eventually.

“All right,” he finally said. “I’ll try.”

“I suggest you do more than merely try. I suggest you succeed. Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“You don’t want to find out.”

As he hung up he grimaced, then mustered his self-control, turned and headed for the gathering at the inn.

Steff had touched up her makeup and managed to compose herself outwardly by the time the reunion guests began arriving. She hoped that her carefully poised demeanor was adequately masking the tremors that continued to shoot through her every time she recalled her scare by the library. She didn’t want anything to mar the festivities she’d worked so hard to plan, especially not her overzealous imagination.

Steff stationed herself by the main entrance to personally welcome new arrivals and was pleased to recognize old friends. “Cassie! Kate! How wonderful to see you both again! It seems like forever.” She gave each of them a big smile and a sisterly hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“We wouldn’t have missed this reunion for anything,” Cassie said. She eyed Steff. “Great dress. Of course, if I had your millions, I could look like that, too.” She giggled. “Not.”

“I assure you, I don’t have control of the Kessler checkbook,” Steff countered. “If I did, I’d probably just pay for the library addition instead of arranging all those fund-raisers.”

“I see your point,” Kate chimed in. She took Steff’s arm and drew her aside. “Who else do you expect tonight?”

“Quite a few of our old friends, like Jennifer Pappas and Dee and her sister Lauren. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to locate everyone from our class.”

Cassie waggled her eyebrows. “How about the guys? I suppose Mason and Parker are too rich or too famous, or both, to show up.”

“Actually,” Steff said, “I know Parker is planning to come. Have you driven by the Magnolia Hall mansion and seen the way he’s restored the grounds? I can only imagine what the inside looks like. I hear it’s awesome.”

“It would be nice to see Parker again,” Kate said wistfully. “I always thought he was…interesting.”

“Speaking of interesting,” Cassie drawled, aiming a grin at Steff. “Have you seen your former roommate, Alicia, lately? I hear she and her big brother Trevor are both back in Magnolia Falls.”

Blushing, Steff nodded. “As a matter of fact, I’ve not only seen her, I’ve asked Whittaker Construction for a bid on some remodeling I’d like done in my office.”

“Aha!” Cassie was clearly enjoying the moment. “I knew it. You always did have a thing for Trevor Whittaker, even if he was forever getting into trouble.”

“I mentioned the job to him for Alicia’s sake,” Steff insisted. “He’s supporting her while she goes back to school and gets her teaching credentials.”

“Trevor is? Why?” Cassie asked.

“Because Alicia’s husband left her high and dry four years ago when her boys were just babies.”

“And you’re only hiring Trevor for Alicia’s sake? Is that what you’re trying to make us believe?”

“It’s true!”

Both Kate and Cassie chuckled softly.

Thinking of Trevor raised fresh goose bumps on Steff’s arms. Admittedly, there was something about that man that set her on edge. Though she had done her best to deny it, there had always been a kind of peculiar mutual fascination between them.

Beginning to smile at the ridiculousness of her thoughts, Steff rejected them outright. She was a mature woman of thirty-two, not a naive girl. If Trevor Whittaker thought he could still rattle her these days, he’d better think again.

“Uh-oh,” Cassie drawled. “Speaking of good-looking men.”

Steff’s head snapped around. Her eyes widened. Alicia had apparently chosen her big brother as her escort because she and Trevor were coming through the double doors together. His dark hair was slicked back, yet still retained its wavy charm, and the tuxedo he was wearing set off his broad shoulders in a way Steff couldn’t help but admire. The man was more than impressive-looking tonight. He was breathtaking.

Smiling broadly, she greeted Alicia as she surreptitiously eyed the one man who could make her knees weak with a mere glance. Thankfully, she’d always been able to mask her feelings and appear unaffected by him, and tonight was no exception.

She kissed Alicia lightly on the cheek, then smiled at Trevor. “Welcome to our reunion. I imagine you know most of the people here.” She gestured toward her nearby friends. “Remember Cassie and Kate?”

“Of course. Good evening, ladies.” Trevor’s attention returned to Steff. “And good evening to you, Ms. Kessler.”

His unusually formal demeanor caught her off guard so she reverted to well-practiced dialogue. “Please, go on in and make yourselves at home. There’s lemonade and a buffet of delicious appetizers. We’ll be serving our main course later.”

As Trevor took his sister’s elbow and escorted her into the ballroom, Steff eyed him appreciatively, until her gaze drifted to his shoes. There was a smudge of mud on one of the heels. Georgia clay and loam. Just like the dirt in the flower beds next to the library.

Stunned, Steff felt her balance waver for a split second. Her friends immediately crowded closer.

“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked. “You look pale.”

“Trevor’s shoes,” Steff said in a stage whisper. “Look. There’s mud on them.”

“I’m not a bit surprised,” her friend answered. “After the storms we had the last few days the whole campus is pretty soggy.” She pointed. “See? Half the men in the room have traces of mud on their shoes, even some of our illustrious professors.”

Although Cassie’s assessment was clearly correct, it did nothing to calm Steff’s jangled nerves. Surely, Trevor wouldn’t have run from her, she reasoned, yet if it wasn’t him messing around by the library, then who was it? And why had the shadowy figure frightened her so?

She huffed in self-disgust. From the looks of it, the nameless trespasser could be almost any man in the room.

That realization brought another shiver and a feeling of unidentifiable dread she couldn’t seem to dispel. An evening that should have been filled with joy and celebration was turning out to be a lot more disconcerting than she’d imagined.

Shivering, Steff wrapped her arms around herself. The most sensible thing to do would be to simply ask Trevor how he’d gotten his shoes dirty.

Yes, she countered, but what if it was him by the library? What then? Would I have to ask him what he was up to? Suppose I didn’t like his answer?

Entertaining the mere notion that Trevor had been skulking around campus was unacceptable. Not knowing, one way or the other, seemed infinitely better than having to face the unpleasant possibility that he might have been the one who had frightened her out of her wits.

TWO

Trevor arrived on campus the following Monday, as planned. He was far from overjoyed, however, at the prospect of having to return to Magnolia College for even a short period of time.

He certainly didn’t have many pleasant memories of his younger days here, nor did he view the place with the affection and reverence Steff always had. The university had her family’s influence stamped all over it. Some of the massive live oaks even bore plaques giving credit for their planting to a long-dead Kessler.

He muttered under his breath as he parked and climbed out of his truck, then was immediately penitent. “Sorry, Father,” he prayed quietly as he walked toward the offices. “I know I should be thankful for every job You give me and I did ask for more work, it’s just that I hadn’t counted on having it be here.”

The one aspect of Magnolia College that he did miss was the Campus Christian Fellowship. Some of the friends he had made while attending those CCF meetings were still close and many had gone on to join the nearby Magnolia Christian Church where he also worshipped.

Finding faith on the road to maturity had given Trevor a purpose and had helped straighten him out. How anybody managed to cope day-to-day, let alone face trauma, without an abiding belief in God amazed him. Personally, he didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have his strong beliefs to fall back on when the going got tough.

And speaking of tough going, he mused, it was time to enter the lion’s den. Squaring his shoulders, he pushed open the main door to the Administration building, strode in and proceeded directly to Alumni Relations.

Stephanie was seated behind a desk piled high with stacks of paper and files when he knocked and entered.

She stood and extended her hand in greeting. “You’re prompt. I like that.”

Trevor considered making a wisecrack, then stifled the urge. This was business, not playtime in the quad. “I take my work seriously.”

He shook her hand as briefly as he dared. He didn’t want to offend her, but he also didn’t want to be tempted to stand here holding her hand and gazing into her beautiful, violet-blue eyes like a lovesick teenager. It was bad enough that she was wearing a pale silk blouse that enhanced those eyes and tailored slacks that looked as if they’d been made just for her—which they probably had, he added, disgusted with himself for noticing.

“So, show me the wall you want remodeled,” he said, taking a pencil and pad from his shirt pocket and unclipping a tape measure from the waist of his jeans.

“Sure. Over here.” Steff pointed. “See all the wasted space? I thought, if there was a bookcase recessed into the wall behind the door, I could take advantage of every inch of this cramped little office.”

“You probably grew up with clothes closets that were bigger,” he said wryly.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” She watched him measuring and making notes. “What do you think? Can it be done?”

“Anything can be done,” Trevor said. “It’s a question of how difficult or expensive it may be. I can have an estimate for you in a few minutes. There’s no obligation. If you decide you want the work done, I can start right away. If you put it off and call me later, I’ll do my best to squeeze you in, but I can’t guarantee when.”

“Fair enough. How long to you think the whole job will take?”

“If I can have access to the office day and night, probably less than a week. If I can only work while you’re here, it’ll take longer. You won’t like being around during the sanding or varnishing, believe me.”

She reached for the scratch paper he held out to her. “Wow. Is that all? I’m amazed. Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Don’t you have to get approval from higher up?” Trevor asked, frowning.

“Actually, this is one of the perks of being a Kessler. If I don’t exceed my budget, I can do whatever I please.”

“Okay. I’ll write up a formal agreement for you to sign and bring it with me when I come back this afternoon. Might as well get started while I’m waiting for some back-ordered materials for another job.”

“You won’t quit halfway through my bookcases and leave a mess, will you? I really need my office. The new quarter starts soon.”

“No, I won’t quit until this job is finished. When I make a commitment, I keep it. You can count on me.”

When Steff sobered and quietly said, “I know,” the sound of her voice and the suddenly charged atmosphere within the cramped office made the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end.

It looked as though working when she wasn’t present was going to be more than advantageous, it was going to be critical. Especially if he hoped to finish the job and also keep what little was left of his sanity.

Stephanie had cleaned off her desk and draped a sheet of plastic over her computer station by the time Trevor returned.

“Do you want me to get lost or stay here?” she asked. “I’m curious to see what it looks like inside a wall, if you don’t think I’ll be in the way.”

“Suit yourself. Just don’t breathe the dust. I remember you used to have allergies.”

“I still do.”

“Then you’d better wear a disposable mask so you don’t sneeze yourself to death. There are extras in my toolbox. Help yourself. And hand me one, too, will you?”

He began spreading a tarp on the floor. “I doubt this will be very interesting. About all I usually find is abandoned wasp nests and dead mice.”

“Terrific.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the vermin. That’s what this tarp is for, to catch all the dirt.”

He put on one of the masks, took a pry bar and popped the baseboard off as if it were a toothpick. The wall itself proved more stubborn. Finally, he worked an opening large enough for a handhold, grabbed the plasterboard and gave it a yank. White powder filled the nearby air and made a cloud around his head.

Stephanie retreated. She’d never noticed how cramped her office was until she’d been shut in there with Trevor. She would have left then if he hadn’t had to close the door to gain access to the wall he was demolishing.

Trapped by circumstances she should knew she should have considered earlier, she waved her hands. “Phew! You weren’t kidding, were you?”

“I never kid about my work. You okay?”

“I suppose so.” It seemed a waste of time to just stand here and watch so she began to relieve him of the small, flat pieces of chalky board as he broke them loose. If Trevor was surprised, he gave no indication of it, although she suspected he might be grinning behind his mask.

“Where shall I pile all this trash?” she asked.

“Any place out of my way. Just keep it on the tarp. It’ll make cleanup easier.”

“Right.” She had dragged several slivers of board aside and was lifting a larger one when she stopped. “Trevor?”

Sweating in spite of the air-conditioning, he swiveled in her direction. “What? Did you find a dead mouse?”

“No. I don’t know what this is. It looks like writing of some sort.” Steff steadied the board fragment with one hand and used the other to brush away the powdery dust. “Do you think it’s important?”

“I doubt it. One of the men who built the original wall probably drew his initials for fun. My guys do it all the time. You know, like the old ‘Kilroy was here’ notes the soldiers used to leave during World War II. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’d like to be positive. It looks to me as if it was written by a small finger dipped in something. And look. Are these spatters of blood?”

“What?”

“Never mind. I don’t know why I said that. I guess these drops at the edges reminded me of blood.”

“Your imagination is working overtime, that’s all.”

“I suppose so.” Her brow knit as she studied her find. “Do you think this initial was meant to be a P or an R?”

He leaned closer and squinted. “Can’t tell. The way it kind of trails off at the end it could be either.”

“I know. I suppose we should notify the police, just in case, but my father is friends with the chief and if it winds up to be nothing important, as you say, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Plus, if there’s an investigation, your office may look like this for weeks or maybe even months while they poke around.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’s happened to construction projects more times than I care to remember,” Trevor said. “Now, forget that piece of trash and let me do my job. Okay?”

“Okay.” She pulled a face. “I know it’s foolish to cause a stir, especially since my father already acts as if he thinks he’s the only one capable of logical reasoning. I’ve been trying to prove myself to him since he first helped me get this job and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever succeed.”

Trevor turned away to hide his reaction. Stephanie didn’t make any bones about the fact she’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Even now that they were both in their thirties, nothing had really changed between them. They might be professionals in their respective fields but he was still blue collar and she was still acting the part of royalty, a part she’d been born and raised to play. That was what had caused him to start teasing her by calling her Princess in the first place, back when she and his sister had been college roommates.

He gave a long, loud sigh. “Look, Princess, you do whatever you want with that old piece of plasterboard. Keep it or junk it or tie a ribbon around it and give it to Daddy as a gift. I couldn’t care less.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Steff rolled her eyes and arched her brows. “I told you, I have no intention of involving my father.”

Backing off, she studied the scrawled letter, then began to sort through the other rubble to see if she could find more writing. That one letter and its accompanying splatter seemed to be all there was, which was probably a good sign.

Now that she’d had time to think about it she supposed the marks could just as easily have been made with mud or paint or even chocolate, as dark brown as they were. Why she had assumed it might be blood puzzled her. Maybe she’d been reading too many mystery and suspense stories lately.

Of course. That had to be the reason. There was no need to preserve the board. After all, that wall had been built ages ago and if there had been any mayhem committed on campus her family would have known about it. Plenty of tales concerning the founding and growth of Magnolia College had been told and retold so often that she was sick of hearing them. None had involved bodily injury, unless a few broken bones on the football field counted.

She stared at the board fragment one more time, shivered slightly, then laid it on the pile of refuse with all the others.

There was nothing important or ominous about the initial. There couldn’t be. Magnolia College was a safe haven and always had been. She’d stake her life on it.

The frightening incident prior to the reunion gala flashed into her mind and made her reconsider. She’d been unusually jumpy ever since that night and nothing she did seemed to erase her lingering, prickling sense of dread.

The more Trevor thought about Steff’s notion that the letter scrawled inside the wall might have a sinister origin, the more the whole idea bothered him. It was probably ridiculous to take her suggestion seriously, but if he didn’t at least look into the possibility of foul play, he’d always wonder. Once he had a chance to sort through the rubble in private, he’d locate the supposedly bloody writing and put it aside until he could decide what to do with it—if anything. If he did take it to the cops, not only might the job be stopped, he might also have to tear up more of Steff’s office looking for further clues. And for what? A silly suspicion of foul play? The idea was ludicrous.

He made several trips out to a Dumpster he’d placed nearby for construction waste, then began to roll up the tarp containing the bulk of the chalky dust.

“Can I help you with that?” Steff asked.

Trevor laughed as he eyed her. “I think your main job should be cleaning yourself up. You’re a mess, Princess.”

“I wouldn’t talk if I were you.” She dusted her hands together before she took off her mask and handed it to him. “At least I’m a blond to start with. Your dark hair is practically white.”

“I probably turned gray because you were trying to help me,” Trevor quipped. He was growing more and more aware that they were both beginning to engage in the witty verbal sparring that had been such a big part of their relationship many years ago and it pleased him.

“Oh, thanks a lot. I sacrifice my manicure for you and what do I get? Sarcasm.”

“Sorry about your nail polish. You should have taken my advice and stood back where you weren’t in the way.”

“I wasn’t in the way. Even if you’re not willing to admit it, I helped you a lot.”

“Yes, you did.” He laughed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m offering you a job on one of my crews.”

“I don’t need another job. I have plenty to do already,” Steff replied. Looking at her dust-coated desk and chair she shook her head and sighed. “I knew remodeling would be messy but I had no idea it would be this bad.”

“I warned you.”

“Yes, you did. I thought just putting my files away, clearing off my desk and covering my computer would suffice, but I can see I underestimated the problem.” She started brushing off her slacks, then stopped. “I’m just making things worse. I’d better go outside to do this. Excuse me?”

As she sidled past, Trevor gave her as much room as possible and finished gathering up the folded tarp. It amused him to see the perfect Ms. Stephanie Kessler as dirty as a common worker, yet, even covered with dust, she was elegant and graceful.

“Get a grip, Whittaker,” he muttered to himself. “You have no business even noticing that woman, let alone wasting energy thinking about her.”

For the first time since he’d accepted this job he wondered if it was actually a gift from God or a test of his faith instead. He supposed it could be either, or even both, although at that moment it felt more like a big, big mistake than anything else.

Steff rejoined Trevor as he disposed of the last of the refuse. “In case I haven’t already said so, thanks for agreeing to do my little job,” she said. “I know it’s too small to be worth much to you and I do appreciate it.”

“No problem. My sister would have had my hide if I’d turned you down.”

She stifled her urge to snap at him. Not only did Southern manners preclude taking offense at his implication, her pride refused to allow her to express hurt feelings.

“Then I shall definitely have to thank Alicia,” she said sweetly.

If Trevor sensed anything insincere in Steff’s words he gave no indication of it. “You’d better get whatever you need moved out of your office before tomorrow morning,” he said. “I intend to start back to work very early.”

“Then you’ll want keys to the building. I have an extra set in my desk, but…”

“But what?”

“I need to ask you something first. It’s been bothering me ever since the night of the reunion. It’s about your shoes.”

“My shoes?” He began to scowl. “I rented the monkey suit so Alicia wouldn’t be embarrassed. Wasn’t I well-dressed enough for you, Princess?”

“It’s not that. It was the mud on your heel.” She hesitated, nervous, then blurted, “Were you poking around outside the library earlier in the evening?”

“Me?” Trevor’s frown deepened. “No. Of course not. Ask Alicia. She was with me the whole time.”

“I won’t need to ask anyone else. Your word is good enough for me. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

When she returned, he thanked her for the keys, then climbed into his pickup and drove away without further small talk.

Steff stood in the shade of the oaks and watched him disappear into the distance. What was it about Trevor that made her feel so unsure of herself? He was the only person she knew who could fluster her all the way to her toes, the only one who could rattle her with a simple arch of his eyebrow.

And those dark, brooding eyes. She took a deep breath and released it as a sigh, relieved that he hadn’t been the man she’d encountered near the library.

Penitent, she realized she should have known that without asking. Granted, when Trevor looked at her she still got the same chills she’d felt when she was in her late teens, but there was nothing malicious or frightening in his gaze. Quite the contrary.

Nevertheless, she was grateful for her ability to hide her innermost feelings, to behave as if she didn’t care what he, or anyone else, thought of her.

The only thing better would be if it were true.

THREE

Trevor ended up at Burt’s Pizza for supper. The brick oven pizzeria on Main Street had been a local hangout for as long as he could recall and stepping inside always reminded him of his college days.

His favorite booth in the back corner had been removed but Trevor could still picture the cracked, red, leatherlike seats and the marred tabletop. He had never taken Steff anywhere on a date but he had managed to catch her and Alicia at Burt’s quite often.

He’d sauntered up to their booth one day, years ago, when he’d spotted them dining there. Giving his best impression of a notorious bad boy, he had been greeted by an exaggerated roll of Steff’s beautiful eyes.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” she had drawled.

Trevor remembered giving her a lazy smile. “Hello to you, too, Princess. Are y’all holding court or can a commoner like me join you?”

Alicia had quickly scooted over to make room for him. “We have a slice of pepperoni left, if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks. Save it for the princess. She looks like she could use a square meal. A guy could get bruised trying to hug her.”

“That will never be a problem for you,” Steff had countered. She’d arched an eyebrow and given him a disparaging once-over. “It’s a good thing for you Burt doesn’t have a dress code. Those worn-out jeans are really disgusting. You look like a bum.”

“Oh? And how would you know? Do you know any bums?” The moment he’d said it he’d realized he’d left himself open to a witty retort. Steff didn’t miss the chance to take another clever jab at him, either.

“Only you,” she had said, smiling sweetly. “But bless your heart, I don’t think you have a clue how disgusting you look.”

Recalling the exchange, Trevor had to smile in spite of himself. He’d been positive, until very recently, that the Lord was simply using him to help his family, but now that he’d spent more time around Steff he was beginning to wonder more and more often what else might be going on. Visions of her and memories of their relationship in the old days kept popping into his mind.

Trevor quickly and flatly denied that Steff had any place in his life other than as his sister’s friend. The best thing he could do was finish the bookcases in her office and distance himself from the entire situation as soon as possible.

Thirteen or fourteen years ago he’d have boxed up his pizza and hauled it over to Alicia’s dorm room at Edith Sutton Hall to share with her and Steff. There wasn’t much about his rowdy, younger years that he missed except that kind of casual socializing.

And now? Trevor shook his head. Nothing had changed except that he was a lot older and hopefully much, much wiser. He was still a blue jeans kind of guy and he wasn’t about to change his ways for anyone, especially not stuffy Ms. Stephanie Kessler. As a matter of fact, when he got home he was going to dig out the most worn pair of jeans he had and wear them when he went to work on her office in the morning, just to make that very point.

And when she objected this time he was going to thoroughly enjoy rebutting her protest. If there was one thing he and Steff loved to do, it was turn their innate differences into reasons to exchange clever barbs. He supposed, to an outsider, their war of words might sound like a real argument but he knew better. Steff loved matching wits with him as much as he loved going head-to-head with her. Theirs was a contest that had been going on since they’d first met and as yet had produced no clear winner.

Trevor smiled to himself. If the time ever came that Steff was too nice to him, that was when he’d start to worry.

Steff was restless. She’d tried drinking warm milk and had gone to bed early but relaxation and sleep had eluded her. Disgusted, she pulled on a pair of designer jeans and an embroidered sweatshirt, grabbed her purse and headed back to campus.

Although she wasn’t fond of poking around alone in the dark, especially since the night of the reunion, she wasn’t certain when Trevor’s special Dumpster would be emptied and she didn’t want the scrap of board with the initial to disappear before she’d had another chance to at least study it.

Arriving, she angled her car so its headlights illuminated the Dumpster and helped dispel the shadows that continued to make her so jumpy. She carried a chair from the foyer of the Administration building so she’d have something to stand on, placed it against the trash bin and climbed up.

The headlights on her left were blinding yet failed to illuminate the depths. Her only recourse was to start lifting pieces of board out of the way and dropping them on the ground until she’d dug down to the one she was looking for.

“My mother would disown me if she saw me doing this,” Steff told herself with a wry chuckle. “Kesslers do not Dumpster dive.”

Piece after piece of wallboard fell at the foot of her chair and still she hadn’t located the initial. She paused, confused and sneezing from the dust she’d raised. The disturbing piece of board had been a good-size, she recalled, so how could she have overlooked it?

Perhaps Trevor had broken up the larger sections as he’d thrown them away. She huffed in disgust. If that was the case, there was no telling what had become of the remnant. It might have been totally destroyed.

Steff had to lean further and further in to reach the scraps. She was so intent on her search she failed to hear someone approaching.

When a deep voice behind her asked, “What are you doing?” she almost lost her balance and fell headfirst into the trash container.

Her, “What?” came out more as a scream than a word.

“Look out,” the man shouted as he grabbed her ankle.

His touch panicked her. She levered herself up and whirled as she shot out of the bin, almost losing her balance and tumbling off the chair into his arms.

Eyes wide, she shrieked, “Let me go!”

The middle-aged man backed off, his hands raised in surrender. “I’m sorry, Stephanie. I didn’t recognize you. What in the world are you doing here at this time of night?”

It took a few seconds for Steff to realize she knew him. Her hands flew to her throat as she fought to catch her breath. “Oh, Professor Rutherford, it’s you. You gave me an awful scare!”

“I’ve told you to call me Cornell,” he said kindly.

“Sorry.” She managed a smile although her heart was still threatening to pound out of her ribs. “Actually, I should I apologize for not calling you Dean Rutherford now that you’re head of the Liberal Arts department. I guess I still feel like your student. Your classes were always favorites of mine.”

“Thank you. I enjoyed teaching you, too.” He was smiling benevolently. “Now, suppose you tell me what you’re doing.”

“It’s a long story. I was looking for a piece of old wall from my office.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“There was an initial drawn on it and some splattered droplets that might be blood. The more I got to thinking about it, the more I wanted to see it again just to make sure. I guess my imagination was working overtime.” She paused for a sigh and a quick sneeze. “Anyway, it’s a moot point because I can’t find the piece again.”

“It was in this Dumpster?”

“Yes. At least, I thought it was.” Eyeing the pile of scraps on the ground, she shrugged. “I guess it’s lost forever.”

Rutherford had shed his nylon windbreaker and laid it aside on the well-manicured lawn. “If it bothers you that much, we should search until we find it. What did it look like? How big was it?”

She held her hands a foot apart. “About like this, although Trevor may have broken it into smaller chunks when he threw it away. The initial itself was four or five inches high. We couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a messy P or an R. Or neither.”

Hesitating a moment, the dean took her place at the side of the Dumpster. “All right. I’ll throw out everything at least that big and you can look over each piece before we put it back in.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Steff argued. “I feel foolish for even worrying about it.”

“Nonsense. I won’t have you fretting.”

“That’s really nice of you.”

In the next breath she nearly gasped. Dean Rutherford was crawling into that filthy trash bin. In all the time she’d known him she’d never seen him even get his hands dirty, let alone risk damaging his fashionable clothing, although she supposed the more casual attire he had on tonight wasn’t as expensive as the silk suits he normally sported.

He’s doing it because I’m a Kessler and he wants to stay on my family’s good side, Steff deduced. After all, he was also married to a Kessler cousin, so he certainly knew how influential the family was. She pulled a face. This wasn’t the first time members of the college staff had given her preferential treatment because of her prominent family and it probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

Disgruntled, she waited until the Dumpster was empty, then began sorting through the scraps while the dean stood back and watched. To her dismay, the clue wasn’t there. The poor man had sacrificed his fine clothes for nothing.

Maybe, in the long run, it was all for the best, she concluded with a sigh. If there had been real blood on the scrap she’d not only have had a better reason to continue to be apprehensive, she’d probably feel the need to notify the police, and her father would surely hear of it.

Considering the way she’d been reacting to the slightest unusual occurrence lately, Steff didn’t need to add any more confusion or look for any other reasons to be afraid. She was already more jumpy and upset than she’d been since the days following her eldest brother Adam’s untimely death.

It had been ten years since that horrible summer day, yet there were times, like now, when the sense of tragedy was so strong she felt as if she were losing dear sweet Adam all over again.

Steff had moved herself into a coworker’s office for the time that her own work space was off-limits. She’d cleared a corner of her friend Brenda’s desk to make room for her laptop and had pulled up a side chair. That arrangement was decidedly uncomfortable.

Stretching, she stood and rubbed the small of her back. “I need to move around before I stiffen up any more. I’m going to run down to the basement for a few minutes.”

“What for?” Brenda’s brown eyes narrowed. “It’s dark and dingy and spooky down there. You wouldn’t get me to go alone if you paid me.”

“We do pay you,” Steff teased. “But don’t worry. I won’t make you do anything like that. I just want to see if I can find some old blueprints and maybe some contracts for those earlier projects.”

“Why?”

“Curiosity,” Steff replied, thinking mainly of the intriguing initial she’d noticed then lost track of. Maybe, if she could learn more about the original construction of that wall, she’d be able to put her concerns to rest. It was worth a try. “I’ll need some of the old plans eventually anyway, when we get closer to building the library annex. And I want to see if I can figure out when some prior construction was done on my office, too.”

“Okay. It’s your funeral.”

Steff gave a nervous laugh and made light of the comment as she left the office. “I sure hope not!”

However, the spring in her step diminished as she approached the doorway that led to the basement stairs. Brenda’s suggestion that the cavernous storage area was frightening was ridiculous. So why was the hair on the back of her neck prickling?

“Because my imagination is working overtime again. I really should have been a mystery writer,” Steff said to herself wryly. Maybe someday she’d pursue that dream and give fiction writing a try. Right now, Magnolia College needed her and she was going to continue to support her alma mater for as long as that was true. And perhaps, in doing so, she could favorably impress her parents—especially her father.

“Ha! That’ll be the day,” Steff muttered, disgusted to have even entertained the thought.

She flipped on a light at the top of the narrow stairs and paused for a moment to gather her courage. Filled with trepidation but determined to ignore it, she started slowly down, her hand sliding along the smoothly worn handrail.

This part of the college had been converted into offices after serving for years as a dorm, and the basement showed its age. Heavy, dark beams supported the ceiling and the rough rock of the interior walls was not plastered. Small windows at ground level didn’t let in much natural light because of the evergreen foundation planting of azaleas and stocky palmettos.

As Steff reached the bottom of the stairs she hesitated. Something was amiss. A frown creased her brow. She hadn’t been downstairs in ages but she didn’t recall the archives being such a cluttered mess. What in the world could have happened to them? And why?

The oblong tubes containing blueprints were easy to locate because of their unusual shape. The other paperwork was not. A thick layer of dust had been disturbed where the bank records were stored, making her suspect that the boxes had recently been moved and perhaps opened.

Puzzled, she stood quietly and stared while her mind raced. In the background a mouse skittered. The beams overhead creaked. Something rustled in a far corner.

The hair on Steff’s neck began to prickle in earnest. She had just started to turn back toward the stairs when she thought she glimpsed movement in the shadows.

She froze. Was she imagining things? Probably. After all, she and Brenda were the only ones upstairs right now, so there couldn’t be anyone else in the basement.

Except Trevor, she added, since he was supposed to be working in her office.

Steff’s survival instincts took over. She grabbed the blueprints she’d come for, whirled and dashed toward the stairway at a run.

At this point it didn’t matter whether there was a prowler lurking behind her in the darkness or not. All she wanted was to escape!

Trevor was carrying another wooden plank through the foyer when a breathless, wide-eyed Stephanie crested the stairs. He dropped the board and ran to her as soon as he saw her panicky expression.

“What is it? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she insisted, fighting to catch her breath.

He grasped her shoulders and held her fast. “Don’t give me that. You’re shaking like a leaf. What’s wrong?”

“I, um, I thought I heard somebody in the basement just now. Brenda was giving me spooky ideas and I know my imagination took over. It can’t be anything.”

“Suppose I go take a look.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Maybe not. But I’m going to do it anyway. You coming?”

Steff shook her head and hung back. “That’s okay. I’ll wait here.”

“Suit yourself.” He pushed through the door and descended the staircase a lot faster than she had.

She stood in the open doorway and called down, “Do you see anything?”

“Not yet.”

Trevor began to systematically search the stacks. It wasn’t until he came to the farthest overhead window that he began to think Steff may have actually sensed something amiss. The hinged pane wasn’t all the way open but it wasn’t latched, either. There was a remote possibility that someone athletic enough to pull himself up and wriggle through could have left by that route. Of course, the basement denizen could just as easily have been one of the pet campus cats. That was a much more likely scenario.

Trevor closed and secured the window, then returned to Steff. “There’s nobody down there now, but I did find one window half open. I closed and latched it for you. Whoever or whatever it was can’t get back in now, so the problem is solved.” He hesitated, unsure about her steadiness. “You okay?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“Then you might want to stop shaking.” For the first time he took notice of the armload of material she was carrying. “What have you got there?”

“Blueprints,” Steff said. “I’m sure you’ve heard that we’re going to add on to the Kessler Library. I wanted to see the original plans.”

“No, I hadn’t heard. When were you going to tell me about it? After the contract was done and it was too late for Whittaker Construction to bid?”

“Of course not. The job will be advertised, as always,” Steff said firmly. “As a privately funded college we don’t have to do that, you know, but we always try to be fair.”

“Oh, sure. You hand me the crumbs so Alicia will think you’re on our side, then award the really plum job to somebody else. Which company has the inside track, Steff? Is it Fowler Brothers? I know they’re tight with your father.”

She bristled in response to his accusatory tone. “Nobody has any inside tracks, Mr. Whittaker.”

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be finished in your office in a few more days, but I’ll be watching the newspapers for the official the announcement. When the bids come in, Whittaker Construction’s will be included.”

“I know the board of trustees will look forward to considering it,” she said formally. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He stepped aside and watched her walk stiffly away, her heels clicking on the inlaid hardwood floor. Disgusted with himself for snapping at her, he stomped over to the board he’d dropped and picked it up. The way he was feeling right now, Trevor figured he could gnaw that board to size about as fast as he could saw it with his power tools.

He hadn’t meant to antagonize Steff. On the contrary, he was deeply concerned about her, which may have been why he’d reacted as strongly as he had. He knew she was hiding something and he didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark.

Like it or not, Steff and he were emotionally connected. His dilemma was not whether to acknowledge his newfound empathy. It was figuring out how to deal with it.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.