Flesh And Blood. Caroline Burnes

my fellow creatures, human and animal.” He smiled. “Since I’m giving you my humanitarian speech, I should say that only humans can change the history of the world. I’ve studied it, and some changes need to be made. I heard a quote once, and I’ll tell it to you. ‘An act of kindness is the mark of a generous heart.’ I think you have a generous heart, Emma Devlin.”

      “And you, too, Nathan Cates.”

      His smile was tender. “Perhaps neither of us is suited for such a harsh world. But you’ll survive and make it a better place. Now I think you’ve had enough for one day. I’ll help with this and then be gone. I’ve an early meeting at the college in the morning.”

      He rose from the table and began clearing the dishes away. In only moments we had the main house locked up tight and were back in the kitchen. “I didn’t notice Frisco, or a car. How did you get here?”

      “I walked. Even Frisco has to have a night off every now and then.”

      We laughed and chatted about the day’s news until the kitchen was spotless. “It looks like you’re a good cook,” he noted.

      “If you’re feeling especially brave, how about dinner tomorrow night? I’ll make my special Confederate cavalryman meal.”

      “I didn’t realize you’d had practice with other Confederate cavalrymen.”

      His teasing was warm and very welcome. After the day I’d had, I needed to end this one on a light note. “Well, only a few, and none as interesting as you.”

      “In that case, I accept.”

      “I’ll surprise you with my historical cooking skills.”

      “I’ll bring some wine. I happen to know of a great wine cellar, and the owner won’t mind if I treat you to a bottle. In fact, he won’t be needing it, and he’d heartily approve of a beautiful woman enjoying it.”

      I was reluctant to see him go, but I knew he’d already spent his time generously with me. He had two jobs and who knew what other responsibilities. How had I been lucky enough that he’d taken me under his wing to shelter for a few weeks?

      As I climbed the stairs to my room, I silently begged Frank not to accuse me on this night. A word of encouragemen t would have been nice. Very nice. But what I really needed was a long, deep, uninterrupted sleep. How long it had been since I’d had one?

      My dreams that night were of pounding hooves and sudden confusion. They were not nightmares, but there was a certain frantic energy to them that didn’t wake me but left me with a residue of anxiety. I awoke thinking of Mary Quinn. With the war raging all around her, her last years must have been filled with dreadful nights. At least she had been spared the worst of the siege.

      Judging by the coral glow in the room, it was later than I’d expected to sleep. I pushed back the mosquito netting and padded downstairs in my slippers to make coffee. How would I spend the day? Writing verses for cards was out of the question. I had no ability to concentrate on such a task. I’d begun to work at the knot of Frank’s murder, and I couldn’t let it go. But what to do next?

      I decided a trip to Frank’s family might prove valuable. It would mean another drive to Jackson, but there was nothing at Ravenwood to hold me there. I hadn’t given up hopes of meeting Mary Quinn, but I’d begun to realize that my mother had been right on target in assessing at least one part of my character—I am impatient. Given a choice between waiting and acting, I’ll take action anytime. If I went to Jackson, I’d be back at Ravenwood in the late afternoon with time to spare to rendezvous with Mary, if she felt inclined, and to make dinner for Nathan. Besides, there were a few things I wanted to get from my house for the dinner. Since I’d boasted of my skills, I wanted to be sure I could carry through, even in the outdated kitchen of Ravenwood.

      As I drove to Jackson, I tried to organize my thoughts. Frank had been very close to his brother, James. There was a good chance if something had been troubling Frank, he would have taken it to James.

      The barracuda in that particular tank was James’s wife. Marla Devlin was someone I’d never liked. She’d made her interest in Frank very clear, on more than one occasion. I’d been tempted to tell her husband about her behavior, but Frank had talked me out of it. He’d pointed out that for all of Marla’s faults, James loved her deeply. I could only keep my fingers crossed that I’d find James at work—and Marla out shopping, as usual.

      James Devlin’s business, a sporting goods store in one of the bigger malls, had been a good solid business for years. A former Olympic contender in the four hundred meter, James knew sports, and he knew quality products. He was handsome, popular, and always available to help local kids’ teams with free coaching or a sponsorship. In physical coloring, he was the exact opposite of Frank. James was blond, clean-shaven, with blue eyes.

      Marla wasn’t in evidence. Since she never waited on any female customers, I’d developed the theory that she “helped out” in the store because it gave her an opportunity to meet men who spent a lot of time taking care of their bodies. What she did once she met them, I didn’t really want to know.

      “Emma!” James greeted me with a warm smile and a hug. “Decide to take up jogging and buy new shoes?” I knew how it hurt him to see me. I reminded him of Frank. Obviously, James had decided to bluster past the sadness.

      “Not on your life.” I groaned and patted my hips. “My old joints would revolt and quit on me.”

      “Marla could show you some different fitness routines—”

      “Thanks, but no thanks.” I cut him off with a smile. “You know I’m a hopeless slug. Always was, always will be.”

      “But Frank loved you anyway.” James gave me another hug. “And so do we,” he whispered in my ear.

      For a split second, I thought I might cry, but I lifted my chin and stepped back from him. “I need your help,” I said softly. “I may be losing my mind, but I have something I must pursue.”

      “What?” James motioned to two stools behind the cash register. “Business probably won’t pick up until around lunch, so we’ll be able to talk. You sound pretty serious.”

      “There’s no easy way to say this, James. Your brother may have been deliberately murdered.”

      The color drained from his face. “What are you saying?”

      “I’ve been looking into it. There are some things that don’t add up. Not big things, but little things. The more I dig, the more I find.”

      “Why are you doing this, Emma?”

      The skin around his eyes had remained white. His expression was pained.

      “Don’t you realize that if you drag all of this out again, it’s going to tear everyone up all over again?”

      I’d expected some resistance from James, but not this. “But what if it’s true? Whoever did it deserves to pay.”

      “How could it be true? He was in a liquor store robbery. He was killed by a crazed robber. That’s the end of it. He’s dead, Emma. This won’t bring him back! Marla’s right. You’ve spent the past two years dwelling on this and it has twisted you.”

      It was hard to check my anger, but I did. “I didn’t want to start this. I resisted it. But I had no choice.”

      “What are you talking about?” James stood and began pacing the store. “You certainly have a choice. Stop all of this right now!”

      “I can’t. In the weeks before Frank died, did he mention anything about his work?”

      “You think Benny Yeager did something to Frank? The man almost lost it after Frank died.”

      “Not Benny. I know Frank’s death hit him almost as hard as it did me, and the Devlin clan.” I softened my voice, pushing my impatience down. “But Frank worked with a lot of other people. Other businesses. You know as well as I do that