Chapter Thirteen #2
Her gaze flicked to his and then back to her hands, gripped in front of her. “He asked if Dad had ever mentioned anything about Bilton Foundation to me.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You’re not from Mount Isabel. But everyone from around here knows a little about Bilton. At least those who care about major improvement projects in town. That foundation has funded every project I can think of for as long as I can remember.”
“Like which ones?”
“Station 1 is the most recent example. Including equipment like the new Engine 1. Then there’s the playground at Mill Race Park, the Isa Wildflower Garden and all the community walking paths.
” She ticked them off on her fingers as she provided names.
“Not to mention the Mount Isabel Community Recreation Center. Have you seen that place?”
“I drove by it the other day. It’s huge. I was thinking about joining.”
“It beats the workout room at Station 1, and that’s tough to do,” she said.
“So what you’re saying is Bilton’s like Santa Claus for your little town.” Mick stared down at his folded hands as pieces of the puzzle about his new community clicked into place.
“I’d wondered how a village of this size could afford so many improvements.” He grinned at the recent memory. “Walking into Station 1, I thought I’d taken a wrong turn and ended up in a palace like Versailles.”
“It’s not quite like that, but we’re lucky to have those kinds of facilities and improvements here. With such a small number of homes, there’s no way we could have had a big enough property tax increase to cover all those planning and construction costs, let alone maintenance.”
“But who is this Bilton guy? Or maybe gal? Was it some industrialist-slash-philanthropist like Carnegie or Rockefeller? And why choose this village over all the other ordinary little towns in southeast Michigan?”
She smiled at that. “The story I’ve heard is that Bilton Holdings owned this huge piece of property outside of town, where something like a lake of oil was discovered. The company wanted to share its good fortune, so it set up the foundation to give back.”
“There had to be a whole lot of fortune to donate that much, though some do give it all away. Andrew Carnegie did that. You still haven’t told me, who is this selfless person?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted a shoulder and lowered it.
“Until Riley brought it up, I didn’t realize how little I know about Bilton.
And when I asked Riley if the foundation could have something to do with the fires, or the investigation against him, he seemed to regret mentioning it at all.
He gave me the hint and then tried to take it back. That’s not like him.”
“So now you’re going to try to find everything you can about Bilton.”
She crossed her arms and pressed her lips into a line. He hadn’t posed it as a question.
“I have to,” she said, with a firm nod. “He wouldn’t have brought it up if it wasn’t bugging him. I’ll start with some internet sleuthing. I should be able to find something about Bilton, even if whoever runs it keeps a low profile. Someone has to know who’s giving all that money away.”
“You would think.”
She nodded several times as though an idea were coming together in her thoughts. “Then if that doesn’t work, I’ll talk to some locals from my father’s generation. They were around when the first projects were moving forward with help from this benefactor. Someone has to know something.”
Her words weren’t that scary, so he couldn’t explain the shiver that coursed through him.
Someone knew, all right. Only it felt as if they were racing down a dark, deserted road with no headlights or even brakes as they tried to determine who.
He sighed then yanked that breath back in as the other part of what Rachel had said repeated in his thoughts.
“Your brother might have given you another clue.”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t just ask if you’d ever heard of Bilton. He asked you if your dad had ever mentioned anything about the foundation. That’s not the same thing.”
She rubbed her hands over her face and then shoved her fingers back through her hair. “What are you saying? That my dad could have known something about Bilton? Or maybe even some secret?”
“I didn’t say that. Neither did your brother. But he did put your dad and that foundation in the same question, and you might want to find out what that means.”
Still, Rachel kept shaking her head. Then she stopped. The color drained from her face. “You don’t think he took his life because—”
He rested his hand on top of the pair she’d clasped together. “We don’t know anything. But you said you wanted answers. Maybe that’s an important clue. Maybe not. You just need to check it out.”
His gut told him there was more to it, though he’d never met her father or brother. Heck, he barely knew her, other than a heart-to-heart the other night and an ill-advised kiss that got out of hand. Still, he would have to suggest that they take a closer look at her dad’s past.
“You’re right.”
Mick blinked since she seemed to be answering his thoughts, but she shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as though to push away the threat of tears.
Then she pulled her hands from beneath his.
Though a knot swelled in his throat, he tried not to be offended since their tender moment from the night before had nearly inspired them to christen the sofa.
“I’ll just see what I can find on the internet over the weekend,” she said.
He rubbed his suddenly cold hands together. “And when I’m back in the office on Monday, I’ll check my files for the construction plans for the new Station 1. There should also be permits and such with the village and the state, but I can start there.”
With a nod, Rachel stood and took a few steps toward the living room.
“I know you didn’t get too far with your research on my files the other night.” When she stopped and glanced back at him with wide eyes, he added, “You know, using a baked-in-a-cake file or whatever else it was to break into my cabinet.”
“I didn’t—”
He kept grinning at her until she shrugged.
“You thought I missed that? It wasn’t exactly a professional break-in.”
“That thing should have been easier to pop,” she said with a frown.
“I’ll be sure to order a more accommodating filing cabinet next time.”
The credits were rolling on the TV show when she crossed the room to the twins. Both were already rubbing their eyes.
“Can Mr. Mick read us a story tonight?” Carissa pointed to Mick in the dining area doorway.
“No, honey. Remember, we agreed that the show was instead of books.”
“But,” Carly started to argue, then slumped her shoulders, too tired to make the effort.
“Maybe we can do that next time,” he said.
When Rachel guided the girls to the stairs, Mick started toward the back door.
Though leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do, it would probably be best for the both of them.
At least for her. He needed to be a better man than he wanted to be right then, especially since they’d both agreed to their rules.
“I’ll see you three soon,” he called to them as they reached the landing.
Only Rachel glanced back at him and held up a finger, asking him to wait. He nodded, swallowing, his better angels floating off on feathered wings.
Minutes later, she met him in the kitchen doorway.
“I’m sorry I tried to break into your filing cabinet.”
“Tell that to the Mount Isabel PD.”
“Wouldn’t I already be wearing silver bracelets if you were planning to turn me in?”
“Guess we’re making a habit of not reporting things to the police.” It was supposed to be a joke, but his words landed heavily, bringing back the memory of the white SUV and dousing any embers that threatened to reignite tonight.
“We still don’t know who to trust,” she said.
Except each other. He willed her to say those last words, but she let it go at that.
“I might need to check Dad’s place, too,” she said after a few seconds. “I told you that Riley still lives at the house.”
He nodded, glad that she’d come to that conclusion herself. “But you aren’t going there alone, are you? That’s not safe, if someone is watching you. You said it’s out in the country, right? I can go with you.”
“You don’t need to do that. I won’t even look there unless I don’t find anything about Bilton online.”
As he started to argue, she held out a hand.
“And I definitely won’t do it until next week while the girls are at school. If you’re so worried, you can come out there with me then, if you can figure out how to get time away from the station.”
“Fine,” he began and then frowned. “That’s going to be tough, isn’t it? I’m under a microscope there, both from the crew and from the village leadership. Davison made sure to tell me that my employment was probationary.”
“Skipping work during your second week on the job might not be in your best interest.”
“Probably not.”
Mick sensed there was something off about her relenting so easily to his suggestion that she shouldn’t visit her father’s house alone.
In the short time he’d known her, she’d never given up a single point without an argument.
Then it hit him. She’d agreed to let him join her at a time when she knew he couldn’t get away because she wouldn’t be waiting until then to go snoop there.
“Okay, let me know when—I mean if—you decide to look around at your dad’s place. I’ll see if I can make the time work.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
It was a plan, all right. He’d determined since his arrival in Mount Isabel that no one else would be hurt on his watch. Rachel wouldn’t make it easy for him to keep that commitment.
Whether she liked it or not, ensuring her safety had become critically important to him. He suspected that she’d be taking a field trip over the weekend. What she didn’t know was that Mick planned to be there as backup when she did.