A Deadly Draught by Lesley A. Diehl Read Free Book Online Page A

face and arms before I showed up at the bank.”
    “Oh, right. Just throw the stuff on the table when you leave. You’ve been a real trooper to help, but I’ll finish the rest tonight in bed. I gotta jump in the shower.”
    “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll leave the letters. What about the trap door?”
    “Leave it open. I’ll get it later.” I ran for the upstairs bathroom, threw my clothes on the floor, and turned on the water.
    This was hard, so hard, going through Dad’s stuff. Memories came back with a forcefulness I did not anticipate. I should have done all this long ago instead of carrying my feelings so close to me. The hot spray felt good on my grimy skin, and it washed away the tears that coursed down my cheeks.
    I stepped from the shower, wrapped a towel around me, and walked out into the hallway straight into Jake’s arms.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” I tugged the towel more tightly to me and backed away from him. There was the tiny, crooked smile on his full lips. “What’s so damned funny? Would you give me a little privacy?”
    “Okay. Sally let me in as she left. Told me I might find you up here. Nothing is funny. That’s all.”
    “And the privacy? I’m in a big hurry for an appointment.”
    “Right. I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen.” He turned to leave, hesitated, and looked back at me. I could swear his lips curved in a smile. “I closed the attic trap door for you.”
    I threw on some clean clothes, rushed down the stairs, and looked at the kitchen clock.
    “I’m a half hour late. I’d better call the bank.”
    Jake was seated at the table, gazing down at the letters which Sally had left there.
    “You find anything interesting in your prying?” I asked. I snatched the sheets of paper from his hands and picked up the phone.
    “Sally told me what the two of you were doing. I’m just filling in for her.”
    I held up my finger for silence when I connected with the bank president’s secretary. “Oh, sorry, Hera. Mr. Claxton waited for fifteen minutes or so, but he had an eleven-thirty tee time with Michael Ramford and Stanley, what’s-his-name, the new brew master there, and they were waiting in the outer office to pick him up. I can have him call you tomorrow. No, wait, next week. He’s off for a short trip to the Bahamas.”
    I couldn’t listen any longer. “I know, a short trip to the Bahamas for some golf,” I said and hung up.
    Someone rapped at the screen door. I recognized Manuel Diego, one of the workers at Rafe’s. His face was sweaty, as if he’d run several miles in the heat. He looked worried, as well as exhausted. “Mr. Rafe says for you to come quick. He tried to call, but the phone was busy. He sent me through the woods to get you”
    “What’s wrong?” I asked. Jake’s cell phone warbled. I opened the door for Manuel and pulled him into the kitchen. Jake listened for several minutes, then flipped the phone closed.
    “I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” Jake said. “Someone tried to kill the brew master at Rafe’s. I’ve got to get over there.” At the door he turned to confront me, his expression drawn in lines of anger. “I don’t know what game you and your buddies are playing here, but next time there’s an attempted murder, I expect the first call to go to my office, not to you and the rest of your beer-brewing gang.”
    “I’ll give Rafe your message,” I said, “when I have the opportunity, but right now, one of the beer-brewing gang, as you put it, needs me.” I pushed past him, gesturing for Manuel to follow me to my truck. “Oh, and one more thing. Since you’re pitching in for Sally, would you lock up when you leave?”
    Something childish in me wanted my words to aggravate him, and I wasn’t disappointed. My eye caught an old habit of his when he was angry—a barely noticeable facial tic, the result of grinding his teeth to keep from yelling. Good. This round was mine.
    I roared off down my drive, in the lead for