Just Above a Whisper (46 page)

“What?” Reese bent over to hear her.

“He was here. Jenness. He’s looking for you.”

“Did he do this?” Reese asked, fear shooting through her.

Mrs. Greenlowe nodded and then winced, no fire in her at all.

“He said he was going to the big house, that he could take care of all three of you that way.”

“Conner,” Reese whispered, but she didn’t forget her patient. “Here, sit on the sofa.”

“Just help me sit up, and then go for help,” Mrs. Greenlowe argued.

“I can’t leave you like this.”

“I’m all right. He just shoved me, and I banged my head on the table.” Some of her fire returned. “Go, Reese!”

Reese hesitated only a moment. She made sure her landlady was able to lean against the chair she’d pulled over, and then shot back out the door. Darkness was falling fast, but Reese didn’t go down the green. She ran through the trees and yards that had served as shortcuts for years.

It was her first impulse to go to the front door, but she knew that was foolish. Slowing down when she got to the house, Reese tried to see inside. She thought she might have caught movement in the front parlor but couldn’t be sure. Not certain what else to do, Reese swiftly skirted the house and used her key. She let herself in the door that led to the buttery, already telling herself she had to be quiet on the stairs.

“I’m glad you stopped by, Mr. Jenness,” Conner said, having invited the man into the parlor when he’d come to the door. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

“And I you,” Mr. Jenness returned smoothly, his voice quite different than his appearance.

All this time Conner had been picturing a businessman. Victor Jenness looked more like a farmer. Today he was in boots and work pants, with a long flannel shirt for warmth.

“Would you like to sit down?”

“Thank you.”

“My business partner isn’t here this weekend,” Conner said conversationally after he’d taken a seat. “He’ll be sorry to have missed you.”

“He’s not here?” Mr. Jenness asked sharply, more distressed over this than Conner would have guessed.

“No, I’m sorry. He’ll be back on Monday. Could we plan to meet at the bank on that day?”

“Possibly.” Mr. Jenness worked to calm himself, and not for the first time, Conner noticed his eyes. They seemed to have trouble centering on him. They would meet Conner’s gaze for just moments at a time and then dart away.

“Your wife mentioned that you were away on business,” Conner said, hoping to sound ignorant. “Has that gone well?”

“Very.” Mr. Jenness’ voice turned cold now, and Conner found himself hoping he would not be put into a position of defending himself. He watched as Mr. Jenness got more comfortable in his chair and then realized he was reaching for something. Conner stood when he saw the knife.

“You need to put that knife away, Mr. Jenness. I don’t want that unsheathed in my house.”

“What
you
want,” Mr. Jenness mocked, slipping out of the chair to stand. “It’s always what you want. You want your way, you want to be in charge, and you want my bank.”

“I would be happy to talk to you about the bank, especially the fine job we’ve seen in your account books, but you have to put the knife away.”

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me,” Mr. Jenness growled, positioning himself with the knife ready. “All I want to hear from you is that you’re going to leave Tucker Mills and never come back. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t have you taking over my bank. It’s my bank.”

“We can’t discuss anything while you’re holding that knife,” Conner tried again.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”
Mr. Jenness shouted, his eyes alight with rage.

Seeing those eyes, Conner Kingsley fell silent.

From her place in the wide hallway, Reese listened to the awful conversation, fear making her freeze for just a few minutes. He had a knife! Mr. Jenness had a knife, and Conner was in there alone.

The study door suddenly came to mind. If she was hearing right, Mr. Jenness was standing with his back toward the fireplace. Remembering the layout of the house, Reese realized she could enter the large parlor by way of the study. She knew if she slipped through that door, it would bring her in behind Mr. Jenness.

She didn’t think about what she would do if she accomplished this, only that she needed to get to that door and somehow help Conner.

Twenty

Having stayed completely calm to this point, Conner felt his heart nearly stop in his chest when he saw the door behind Mr. Jenness open and Reese’s face peek in.

“Ah, yes, I see the fear in your face,” Mr. Jenness nearly purred with satisfaction. “How does it feel, Mr. Kingsley? What’s it like to have something taken from you, the way you’re trying to take my bank?”

“I assure you, Mr. Jenness, that was never our intention. In fact,” Conner continued, making himself not look at Reese, “my brother was just here, and we’re excited about the future of the bank. We’d like to hear your ideas and thoughts.”

“Oh, my ideas and thoughts will be heard, but not by you. You have to leave now.”

The stunned look on Mr. Jenness’ face and the moment of pause when the fireplace shovel hit the back of his head gave Conner just enough time. He covered the distance in two strides and put his fist alongside Mr. Jenness’ jaw. That man dropped like a sack of cornmeal, and Conner reached for the knife, placing it on the mantel. He then went to Reese, whose arm he could feel trembling in his hand, and led her away from the crumpled banker’s form.

“What were you doing?” Conner asked, barely able to be heard.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” Reese whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I couldn’t let him do that.”

All Conner wanted to do was crush her in his arms, but he forced himself to be calm. Moving slowly and with a tenderness he didn’t feel, he gently took Reese into his arms and held her close.

“Thank you,” he spoke in that just-above-a-whisper voice she knew so well.

All Reese could do was shiver in his arms, still afraid for Conner and horrified at what had just happened.

Conner held her for just a little while and then released her, but he kept his hands on her shoulders. He made himself remember the man on the floor.

“Go get Doc MacKay. I’ll stay here and make sure he doesn’t move.”

“He won’t hurt you now?” she asked, glancing back at the man.

“No, Reese. He’s out cold.”

“All right.”

Reese left by the front door, ran all the way, and returned with Tucker Mills’ doctor. As he checked Mr. Jenness, he heard Conner’s story about what had just happened. When Conner got to the part where Reese came in, the doctor’s eyes were no longer calm.

“You did what?” he demanded.

“I hit him,” she said, tears threatening again.

Seeing them, Doc MacKay only nodded. He didn’t have the heart to reprimand her, but the story Conner had just told him scared him half to death. Why Reese didn’t go for the sheriff rather than handle things on her own was something he would find out at a later date. The sheriff, however, needed to come now, and as soon as he made sure that Mr. Jenness was all right, Doc MacKay went for him.

“I’ve got to get home,” Reese said to Conner right after the doctor left to get Sheriff Ferndon. “Mr. Jenness was at my house first, and Mrs. Greenlowe was hurt.”

“Is she all right?”

“Her head was bleeding, but I think she’s going to be fine.”

Conner’s eyes went to the man on the floor.

“So he was after you.”

“All of us, I guess. Troy too.”

Reese looked at him for a moment and then turned away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Conner walked her to the door, never intending to wait until tomorrow to see her but not saying so at the moment. When the doctor and sheriff came back and Mr. Jenness was roused and taken into custody, Conner and Doc MacKay headed to the Greenlowe house together.

“What will happen to Jenness?” Mrs. Greenlowe asked after Doc MacKay insisted that she allow him to examine her.

Her tea forgotten, she submitted to his ministrations but was vocal all the while. The doctor would not answer a single question until he’d seen the wound.

“Well?” Mrs. Greenlowe tried as soon as he stepped away. “What happens to him now?”

“He’s not a well man,” the doctor explained. “I’m not sure where he’ll end up, but it probably won’t be Tucker Mills.”

“Where is Reese?” Conner finally asked. He had remained quiet throughout the conversation, but when Reese still hadn’t made an appearance, he couldn’t remain so.

“She’s in the parlor. Fell asleep in one corner of the sofa. She told me her story and went right to sleep.”

Conner didn’t even hesitate but went that way. There was a candle burning on a table nearby, and Conner took the liberty of pulling a chair up close.

“Reese?” he called. “Are you all right?”

When she didn’t stir in the least, Conner just sat and looked at her. A thick strand of hair had fallen over one cheek, and Conner gently pushed it back. There was a quilt over her, but it had slipped down her shoulders a bit, so Conner pulled it back in place. After watching her for a few more minutes and thinking she looked very young, he tried waking her a few more times, but she was sound asleep. He was on the verge of heading back to the kitchen when Doc MacKay came in.