boys I don’t know, boys with smart mouths and no respect. They always wear the same two colors.”
“Gang colors.”
The woman’s eyes snapped to hers. “I was hoping I was wrong. Are you sure?”
Jillian could have given her chapter and verse on gang behavior. Much of her life had been spent in a universe where gangs reigned, but she could not risk any connections to her old life, so she merely nodded. “I, uh, I saw a television show recently, describing gang behavior. That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”
Alice’s knuckles whitened, the grip of her hands was so tight. “I don’t—he won’t talk to me about it, and Adam... Adam will do anything he sees J.T. do. I don’t want to lose either one of them, and I’m so worried. I thought we’d be safe here, so far from the old neighborhood.”
“It can’t be hopeless yet.” She’d check out J.T., see what she could do.
Alice’s head rose, her eyes shining. “Oh, I know it’s not.” She wiped at her eyes. “After all, there’s Mr. Cullinane...”
“Cullinane?” What part did he play?
The woman nodded. “J.T. worships the ground that man walks on. I know Mr. Cullinane will help me.” Rising to her feet, she began to dust again. “I don’t know why I’ve talked so much. I’d better get this room done. Smiling shyly, she spoke over her shoulder, moving away. “I guess I’ve missed having other women to talk to.”
Jillian let her pass without protest. She was still reeling over the concept of Cullinane as a substitute father. Mr. Granite? She hadn’t exactly noticed the milk of human kindness gushing from his veins. Shaking her head, she wanted to tell Alice to get herself and her kids away from this place, away from a monster like Hafner.
Did she know who he was? What he did?
“Alice, perhaps you shouldn’t stay here if you think your children need to get away from bad influences around them. I know this place is nice, but room and board aren’t reason enough.”
Alice laughed, her laughter a clear, silvery tone that brought Jillian a smile. “Oh, I get much more than room and board. Klaus pays me very well for being his housekeeper, and he’s started a college fund for each of my children. I have so few expenses that I’m able to put away quite a bit of my salary for that purpose, and he matches, two for one, every dollar I put away. In three years, I’ve made a good nest egg for them.” Her smile faded. “And my brother depends upon me. I couldn’t leave.”
Her brother? Jillian’s head reeled from the thought that this kind, gentle woman was Hafner’s sister, that Hafner would do such a generous thing. Then her words sank in. Three years. Alice had been here when Belinda was here.
He’d murdered Belinda. How could Alice not see what kind of man he was? What did she think had happened to Belinda? Could she not know Belinda was dead? Jillian reeled. How could this be the same man? College funds for Alice’s children?
He’d done it, though. Killed Belinda. Her letters, her calls...all evidence demonstrated that he’d intimidated her, kept her a virtual prisoner. She’d been terrified of him toward the end, and they’d been alone in that bayou cabin he’d used for a getaway. Before the case had been closed, the parish officials had shown Jillian the file that was now conveniently ‘missing.’ There was no doubt of it. He might support a whole orphanage, give money to the homeless, be the patron saint of a whole city, but he’d still murdered her sister—and others—by virtue of his livelihood. He was a merchant of death.
And Cullinane was the man he trusted most. Cullinane knew the answers.
Answers Jillian didn’t dare ask for. Not from him, not even this sweet, harmless woman.
“Jillian? Ms. MacGregor? Are you all right?”
Jillian’s head snapped up, searching Alice’s kind eyes. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask her if she’d met a woman named Belinda, but... Her shoulders sagged.
She
“Gang colors.”
The woman’s eyes snapped to hers. “I was hoping I was wrong. Are you sure?”
Jillian could have given her chapter and verse on gang behavior. Much of her life had been spent in a universe where gangs reigned, but she could not risk any connections to her old life, so she merely nodded. “I, uh, I saw a television show recently, describing gang behavior. That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”
Alice’s knuckles whitened, the grip of her hands was so tight. “I don’t—he won’t talk to me about it, and Adam... Adam will do anything he sees J.T. do. I don’t want to lose either one of them, and I’m so worried. I thought we’d be safe here, so far from the old neighborhood.”
“It can’t be hopeless yet.” She’d check out J.T., see what she could do.
Alice’s head rose, her eyes shining. “Oh, I know it’s not.” She wiped at her eyes. “After all, there’s Mr. Cullinane...”
“Cullinane?” What part did he play?
The woman nodded. “J.T. worships the ground that man walks on. I know Mr. Cullinane will help me.” Rising to her feet, she began to dust again. “I don’t know why I’ve talked so much. I’d better get this room done. Smiling shyly, she spoke over her shoulder, moving away. “I guess I’ve missed having other women to talk to.”
Jillian let her pass without protest. She was still reeling over the concept of Cullinane as a substitute father. Mr. Granite? She hadn’t exactly noticed the milk of human kindness gushing from his veins. Shaking her head, she wanted to tell Alice to get herself and her kids away from this place, away from a monster like Hafner.
Did she know who he was? What he did?
“Alice, perhaps you shouldn’t stay here if you think your children need to get away from bad influences around them. I know this place is nice, but room and board aren’t reason enough.”
Alice laughed, her laughter a clear, silvery tone that brought Jillian a smile. “Oh, I get much more than room and board. Klaus pays me very well for being his housekeeper, and he’s started a college fund for each of my children. I have so few expenses that I’m able to put away quite a bit of my salary for that purpose, and he matches, two for one, every dollar I put away. In three years, I’ve made a good nest egg for them.” Her smile faded. “And my brother depends upon me. I couldn’t leave.”
Her brother? Jillian’s head reeled from the thought that this kind, gentle woman was Hafner’s sister, that Hafner would do such a generous thing. Then her words sank in. Three years. Alice had been here when Belinda was here.
He’d murdered Belinda. How could Alice not see what kind of man he was? What did she think had happened to Belinda? Could she not know Belinda was dead? Jillian reeled. How could this be the same man? College funds for Alice’s children?
He’d done it, though. Killed Belinda. Her letters, her calls...all evidence demonstrated that he’d intimidated her, kept her a virtual prisoner. She’d been terrified of him toward the end, and they’d been alone in that bayou cabin he’d used for a getaway. Before the case had been closed, the parish officials had shown Jillian the file that was now conveniently ‘missing.’ There was no doubt of it. He might support a whole orphanage, give money to the homeless, be the patron saint of a whole city, but he’d still murdered her sister—and others—by virtue of his livelihood. He was a merchant of death.
And Cullinane was the man he trusted most. Cullinane knew the answers.
Answers Jillian didn’t dare ask for. Not from him, not even this sweet, harmless woman.
“Jillian? Ms. MacGregor? Are you all right?”
Jillian’s head snapped up, searching Alice’s kind eyes. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask her if she’d met a woman named Belinda, but... Her shoulders sagged.
She
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