Boss Man

Her heart began racing. Her knees were weak. He wasn’t blind. Any minute, he was going to notice her helpless, headlong reaction.

“But I am a confirmed bachelor,” he added firmly, as much for his own benefit as for hers. “And this isn’t the time, anyway. May I come in?”

“Of course.” She closed the door behind him, unsettled by what he’d said.

“I planned to come by your office and tell you,” he said, his voice low, “but I got caught at the last minute and by the time I finished with an upset client, you’d already left Wright’s place. I’d hoped to have a little time to prepare you for what we have to do.” He glanced toward the living room door. “How is she?” he asked.

She bit her lower lip. “She’s had a slight spell this week,” she told him worriedly. “She thinks she’s stronger than she really is. Losing Daddy and finding out about his affair ruined her life.”

He bit back a harsh reply. “Should we have the doctor here while I tell her?”

She sighed wearily. “I don’t think it will matter.” She looked up at him. “She has to know. I don’t want Janet Collins to get away with murder. Neither will she. We both loved Daddy, in our way.”

“All right then.” He nodded for her to go ahead of him and he followed her into the room.

Her mother looked up and smiled. “Mr. Kemp! How nice to see you again!”

He smiled, pausing in front of her to shake her hand gently. “It’s good to see you, too, Mrs. Hardy. But I’m afraid I may have some upsetting news.”

She put down her knitting and sat up straight. “My daughter thinks I’m a marshmallow,” she said with an impish look at Violet. “But I’m tougher than I look, despite my rickety blood vessels.” She set her lips firmly. “You just tell me what I need to know, and I’ll do what I have to.”

His blue eyes twinkled. “You are a tough nut, aren’t you?” he teased.

She grinned at him, looking far younger than she was. “You bet. Go on. Spill it.”

His smile faded. Violet sat on the arm of her mother’s chair.

“It must be bad, if you’re both expecting me to keel over,” she said. “It’s something about Janet Collins, isn’t it?”

Violet gasped. Kemp’s eyebrows arched over the frames of his glasses.

“I’m not a petunia. I don’t just hang on the porch all the time,” Mrs. Hardy informed them. “I get my hair done, I go to the doctor’s office, I see a lot of people. I know that Libby and Curt Collins are up to their ears in trouble about their stepmother, and there’s a lot of talk that she’s been linked to the death of an old man in a nursing home. They said she took every penny he had. And then she went on to cheat Arthur and me out of our savings, a quarter of a million dollars. It wasn’t ever proven that it was her.”

“I’ve found an eyewitness who thinks she can place Janet Collins at the motel with Arthur the last day of his life,” Kemp told her, “just before the ambulance came to take him to the hospital. She ran out the door and was seen. At the hospital the doctor, not aware of any foul play, diagnosed a heart attack from the symptoms. There was no autopsy.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Hardy said. She gave her audience a knowing look. “And you think she killed him, don’t you?” she asked Kemp.

He was impressed. “Yes, I do,” he told her honestly.

“I didn’t want to think about that, but I’ve had my doubts,” she said. “He never had heart trouble. There had been some mixup at a clinic in San Antonio and he ended up getting a heart catherization that he didn’t really need. What it showed was that his heart and arteries were in fine shape, no blockages at all. So it came as something of a surprise when he died only a month later of a supposed heart attack. But I was far too upset at his affair and his sudden death to think clearly.”

“If it’s any consolation, Janet Collins had a way with men,” Kemp replied. “She was known for playing up to older men, and she isn’t a bad-looking woman. Most men react predictably to a head-on assault.”

Violet was wondering irrelevantly if it would work with Kemp, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

“Arthur had strayed before,” Mrs. Hardy said surprisingly, and with an apologetic glance at Violet. “He was a handsome, vital man, and I was always quiet and shy and rather ordinary.”

“You weren’t ordinary,” Violet protested.

“My people were very wealthy, dear,” she told her daughter sadly. “And Arthur was ambitious. He wanted his own accounting firm, and I helped him get it. Not that he didn’t work hard, but he’d never have made it without my backing. I think that hurt his pride. Maybe his…affairs…were a way of proving to himself that he could still appeal to beautiful women even as he got older. I’m sorry, Violet,” she added, patting her daughter’s thigh. “But parents are human, too. Arthur did love you, and he tried to be a good father, even if he wasn’t a good husband.”

Violet clenched her teeth. She could only imagine how it would have felt to her, if she’d been married and her husband thought nothing of having affairs with other women.

“By the time Arthur started straying,” Mrs. Hardy continued, “I was too fragile to leave him and strike out on my own. There was Violet, who needed both her parents and a stable environment. And I could no longer take care of myself. Arthur paid a price to stay with me, under the circumstances. I don’t really blame him for what he did.”

She did, though, and it showed. Violet hugged her close. “I blame him,” she murmured.

“So do I,” Kemp said, surprisingly firm. “Any honorable man would have asked for a divorce before getting involved with another woman.”

“Why, you Puritan,” Mrs. Hardy accused with a smile.

“I’ve got company,” he jerked his thumb at Violet.

Mrs. Hardy laughed. She folded her hands in her lap. “Okay, so we’ve settled that Arthur probably had an affair with Janet Collins and she may have been responsible for his death. But unless he’s exhumed, and an autopsy done, we can’t prove it. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it, Mr. Kemp?”

“You’re amazing, Mrs. Hardy,” Kemp replied with admiration in his pale blue eyes.

“I’m perceptive. Ask Violet.” The smile faded. “When do you want to do it?”

“As soon as possible. I’ll make the arrangements, if you’re willing. There will be papers to sign. It may make news as well.”

“I can manage. So can Violet,” Mrs. Hardy assured him, smiling up at her daughter.

“I can,” Violet assured him. “We’ll both do whatever’s necessary. Whatever Daddy did, she had no right to kill him.”

“Very well.” Kemp got up from the sofa and shook hands with Mrs. Hardy one last time. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve got things underway. You’re taking this very well.”