Page 218 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Her hands were shaking. Becca rubbed her slick palms against her jeans then fumbled as she put the letter back into the envelope. Had Max killed Laura? She was frightened of him. Had he seen this letter or had Gram found it and stashed it here?

Becca wanted to believe the tender kisses he’d given her, wanted to trust the honesty she saw in his eyes. But it might gether killed. All the bright hope she’d felt growing this past week seeped away.

She was living in a fairytale. Max couldn’t be ruled out of the equation. The most she could do was stay on her guard and try to sniff out the truth.

She stuck the envelope back into the drawer and pulled up the financial program on the computer. By the time the morning was over, she’d put the last of the receipts in the computer.

Gram came in. “You work too hard,” she scolded. “Every time I see you, you’re working on something. Max is gone. Why don’t you take it easy this morning?”

Becca managed a smile. She wanted to ask her grandmother about the letter she’d found, but the words stuck in her throat.

Gram leaned over and touched Becca’s throat. “The bruises are fading. How does it feel?”

“Still a little sore but okay.” Becca pushed away from the desk. “I got your books in order.” She told her grandmother the balance in the various accounts.

A look of distress crossed Gram’s face. “Are you sure about the balance?” she asked slowly. “I rarely look at the books. Max takes care of all that, but I thought--.” She broke off and looked away.

“Yes, I connected to the Internet to balance the books. It’s totally up-to-date.”

“I see.” Gram seemed pale and she turned to go. “I think I’ll lie down a while.”

“Is everything okay?” All thoughts of confronting Gram about the letter faded as Becca eyed her grandmother’s pallor.

“Fine, fine,” Gram said. “I’m just a little tired.” She patted Becca’s arm then went out the door and up the steps.

Becca tidied up the desk and grabbed her pen as Molly came running into the room. “Hi!” she said.

Becca turned to face her. “Did you have a fun morning?”

Molly nodded. “We took flowers out to my mother’s grave. Dad promised we could make cookies this afternoon. Want to help us?”

Becca was conscious of Max’s presence as his broad shoulders filled the doorway. “Your dad is going to bake cookies?”

“Hey, you don’t think I can do it?” He flexed his muscles. “Come along, and let me show you how a real man bakes cookies.”

Becca laughed and got up from her perch on the chair. “Aren’t we working?”

“Not today. I’m lazy, and I need to spend a little time with my daughter.” He stepped aside to allow Becca through the doorway. “Lead the way to the kitchen.”

She went down the hall with Molly’s hand in hers. Mrs. Jeffries scowled when they invaded her kitchen, but she merely muttered and got out of the way when Max told her what he’d planned.

Max took an apron from the hook and dropped the loop over his head then tied it on in back. He found a smaller one for Molly while Becca grabbed the red one just like his.

“Now you need a chef’s hat,” she said.

“I never figured out why they wore those tall hats,” he said. “I’d be worried it was going to drop off into my baking.”

Molly giggled. “I want to make chocolate chip cookies.” She pulled the large tin of sugar toward her. “I get to measure!”

“Hold your horses,” her father told her. He got down a large stoneware bowl and rummaged in the cabinets. “I know there have to be chocolate chips in here somewhere.”

Becca went to the pantry and found them beside the cake mixes. “Here they are.” She put the bag of chocolate chips on the counter beside Molly.

Molly picked them up and started to dump them in the bowl. “Hold on,” Max said. “You’re rushing me. This takes time and finesse. A master chef cannot be hurried.”

Molly huffed but settled back to watch her father get out the sugar and butter. “I want to measure,” she said again.

“Fine.” Max pushed the measuring cup and butter toward her.

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