Page 198 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“He about threw me off the porch when I showed up with her,” Becca admitted. “But he was desperate enough for help he finally gave in.”

Gram rubbed the cat’s ears. “Molly has begged for a kitten for over a year.”

“So she said. She’s adopted Misty.”

“You’ll be hard pressed to take the cat when you leave.” Gram’s smile faded. “How long are you planning to stay? You’ve never said.”

“I hope to stay all summer.”

“I’ll miss you when you go. I’ve already lost so much time with you.”

“I’ll be back often for visits now.” Becca squeezed her grandmother’s hand. “I think I’ve got these receipts organized. Now all I have to do is put them into the computer.”

“I’ll leave you to your work then. I think I’m ready for a nap.” Gram stood and patted Becca’s head as she went to the door. “I’ll be down for dinner to give you moral support when you tell everyone who you are.”

Becca flinched at the reminder of what faced her tonight. Max’s reaction scared her the most. He’d said he hated falsehood. While she hadn’t actually lied, she had bent the truth all out of recognition.

Gram was right though, the Holy Spirit had been taking her to the woodshed over her lack of total honesty. She had to be obedient and tell the unvarnished truth. She could only pray the fallout wasn’t too extensive.

She worked steadily for two hours then glanced at that clock. It was after four. Just enough time to rest a bit before showering and changing clothes for dinner. She put away the folders and stood, stretching the kinks out of her back. All this paperwork was harder than she’d thought it would be. She wasn’t used to spending such long hours hunched over a desk. Even when she was in school, she often took her books and a blanket and studied on the lawn.

She went to her room. A vague aroma hung in the air. It reminded her of Max’s cologne. Telling herself she was imagining things, she stretched out on the bed and rolled what she knew over in her mind. Gram was certain none of the family could have wanted her parents killed. Who else on the island might be a suspect? A vision of Greg’s handsome face flitted through her mind, but she pushed it away. He hated Max, but that had nothing to do with her parents’ deaths.

What about Robert Jeffries—or even Mrs. Jeffries herself? But though Mrs. Jeffries filled Becca with distaste, there was no evidence to suggest she was more than a faithful servant to the family for twenty years. Becca sighed and sat back up. She might as well take a shower. Her mind was whirling too much to be able to rest.

She showered, redid her makeup then went to the closet for her purse. It wasn’t on the shelf where she left it. Glancing around the room, she saw it on the floor beside the bed. Picking it up slowly, she realized someone had been in her room and had gone through her purse. She quickly checked, but her money was intact. Her driver’s license was not fully back in the slot where it belonged.

Someone knew who she really was. Was it the person who had targeted her? Maybe he or she was merely looking for proof of their suspicions. Or it could be someone else who was suspicious of her. She remembered the scent in the room earlier. Max? She didn’t want to believe he would hurt her, but why else would he be prying through her things?

She ran a brush through her hair then went downstairs. It was time to face the music.

Wonderinghow he should let Becca know he had discovered who she really was, Max sat at the dining room table and waited for the rest of the family. His anger had cooled, but his determination to thwart Becca’s plans had not. Gram surely knew Becca was her granddaughter. How had Becca convinced Gram to keep silent? Gram was a stickler for the truth.

The rest of the family filed in. Becca was the last to arrive. Dressed in a sky blue dress, she looked good. Too good for Max’s peace of mind.

“Whoa, you look way too pretty to stay home tonight,” Nick said. “How about we go for a ride in the moonlight when dinner is over?”

“We could go pick up Molly,” Becca said. A blush stained her cheeks as everyone looked at her.

“I had something more romantic in mind,” Nick said. “But if you insist.”

“I can get my own daughter,” Max snapped.

Nick held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Don’t bit our heads off.”

Max realized his tone was too harsh. Becca was staring at him, and he wondered if she’d figured out he’d been in her room. He didn’t see how she could, but the look in her blue eyes puzzled him.

“Let’s eat. I’m starved,” Shayna said. Her tone was cold and clipped.

Max figured she didn’t like the attention Becca was getting. Shayna was used to being the center of male admiration.

No one had much to say as they ate. After dinner, Becca looked around. “Has anyone seen Misty?” she asked. “She’s usually underfoot at meal times, and I haven’t seen her since this afternoon.”

“I haven’t either, now that you mention it,” Max said. “She’s usually rubbing up against my leg and making herself a general nuisance.”

“You know you love her,” Becca said.

Max tried not to notice the dimple in her cheek flashing. “Like a root canal,” Max said. “Cat’s are a nuisance. She sheds hair all over me.”

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