by Raven Snow
“I did a little more looking into your father as well.” Rose said all of that slowly, like she didn’t want to broach the subject but felt compelled to. “Well, more accurately, Ben went digging and passed that information on to me. Don’t get mad at him. He hasn’t acted on any of this yet.”
“What did you find out?” Again, Rowen wasn’t sure she wanted to know. It felt like Rose had called her to only pass on a bunch of bad news. Thinking about it, that was probably the case. It was pointless not to question what Rose knew. There was something to be said for maintaining ignorance, but Rowen didn’t have that leisure if she wanted things to turn out in way that made it possible for her to still sleep at night.
“I didn’t find out a lot.” Despite not having “found out a lot,” Rose was stretching out her syllables, putting off telling Rowen while she carefully picked out what phrasing would work best. “I just have some… highlights, I guess you could call them.”
“Highlights?” Rowen repeated.
“Or low points. It’s probably more accurate to call them low points.” On the other end the of the phone there came a squeaking, the sound Rose’s ergonomic chair made when she was anxious and tapping her foot. “It looks like your father and Uncle Norm were two of a kind growing up.”
“What does that mean?”
“They were best buddies as far as I can tell. That’s probably how he met your mother. He and Norm were running all over Lainswich, playing practical jokes on people. Neither one of them was well-liked. And I know Greensmiths aren’t well-liked as a general rule, but this was a special kind of dislike that, by all accounts, was well-deserved. That said, it sounds like the town did place more of the blame on Norm being a bad influence than anything else. I’m sure Grammy and Bertha both tried to keep those two apart. You know Norm, though.”
“He probably just crawled out a window or something.” Rowen could picture it now, a younger Desmond throwing rocks at Norm’s window until he opened it and shimmied down the nearest tree. Most likely that was when Tiffany had started tagging along and become smitten. Rowen’s mother had an adventurous, rebellious spirit about her as well. It was why she kept leaving on short notice, vanishing for months or even years at a time. “Then what?” Rowen prompted, equal parts eager and nervous to get to the meat of what Rose had to tell her.
“Believe it or not, Desmond was actually here for your being born.”
“Really?” Rowen hadn’t expected to hear that, despite Despond’s telling her he had been. “And how long did they try to be a normal little family?”
“Not long,” Rose said, which was what Rowen expected to hear. “Desmond left first. Norm was heading off to find fame and fortune and, as his best friend, I guess your father felt obligated to tag along.”
Obligated probably wasn’t the right word, but Rowen kept that to herself. “And my mother was okay with that? Norm was okay with that?” she asked instead.
“I guess they were at first. I asked Norm about it, and he said he thought Desmond was trying to find fame and fortune as well. That’s what Desmond said anyway. He might have even meant it at first. Tiffany wanted to travel the world too, but Desmond wanted a life that would allow that to happen. To hear Norm tell it, those sorts of lives don’t happen inside the borders of Lainswich.”
That wasn’t an incorrect observation. Lainswich was an insular little town. Few came and even fewer left. Rowen herself had thought of the place as a kind of eldritch location as a teen. It was why she had been so keen to leave right after high school. Not that that had stuck. She had moved back eventually and was happier for it. She had a loving family here and a purpose, even if she often went unthanked for it. “I take it Norm eventually caught on?”
“Norm didn’t have room to judge. He’d left behind a family of his own. But, yes, eventually he did drop Desmond as a friend entirely.”
“So, what was the straw that broke the camel’s back there?”
Rose didn’t answer at first. “I don’t understand it that well. You’re better off asking Norm yourself.”
Rowen got the sense that Rose was passing the buck largely because she was afraid to share with Rowen what she knew. She was afraid of upsetting her. Rowen found it hard to believe that what had happened could be worse than the myriad things she was imagining. “So, what else did you find out about him? What else do I need to know?”
“It looks like he’s been involved in a bunch of schemes. He was a motivational speaker on and off for a while, like Norm was. He also headed up some kind of pyramid scheme for a few years. I don’t have all the details on that one. He got in trouble for insider trading once. From what I can tell, he’s gone back and forth between being moderately wealthy and dirt poor.”
“Where does he stand now?”
“After the legal trouble with insider trading? Dirt poor.”
“Kind of his future wife to overlook that, isn’t it?”
“There’s a chance she doesn’t know. I have to imagine he’s good at smooth talking the people he especially wants to smooth talk. Maybe this future wife is well off. Maybe he wants to weasel his way into her life, get some of that money.”
“But then Bertha died and left everything to him.”
“That’s the other thing. He’s really hard up for money right now. That’s probably why he came to the house when it was storming so bad. He was that desperate.”
Rowen was quiet, waiting for Rose to say more. When no response came for several long seconds, Rowen finally spoke. “So, what you’re suggesting is that, since my mother wasn’t around and my family wasn’t keen to let him come inside, he went straight from our house to Bertha’s? That same night he was so desperate he murdered his adoptive mother, not knowing whether she even had a will or not.”
“He could have stolen the will,” Rose suggested, her voice meek.
Rowen tried to picture that, Desmond creeping around the dark and frigid house while Bertha sat dead in her chair, TV casting flickering shadows over her motionless body. Was there a filing cabinet? Some big family bible Bertha tucked all her important documents in? Favorite hiding spots seldom changed when someone lived in the same house for an extended period of time. There was still a loose panel in Rowen’s old room at the Greensmith household, inside of which was every single penny she had found between the ages of four and fifteen, back when she had fancied herself a collector of them. It was easy to picture Desmond snooping. It was harder to see him leaving an old woman to freeze to death. Granted, it was hard to imagine anyone being so cruel. As used to solving horrific crimes as Rowen was, she tried to think of people as generally good. She had to. Anything less would have left her way too jaded by now.
“He couldn’t have done anything to her,” Rowen argued, falling quick and hard to her father’s side of things. Rowen hadn’t predicted that ever happening, yet there she was. “How would he have gotten in? I know he didn’t have a key. He complained to me about how hard it was to get one when he asked me to confiscate Shane’s. He’d have to knock on the door. There were no signs of a struggle so Bertha would have had to let him in willingly.”
“Or he climbed in through a window,” Rose said, voice still quiet, still gently. She was trying very hard not to upset Rowen. Rowen could tell, and yet she still found she was losing her temper with her cousin.
“And what? He saw she was asleep and turned off the heat, leaving her to die? That’s idiotic.” Rowen didn’t realize she was contradicting one of her own theories until the words were out of her mouth. There was no bringing herself to back pedal now. “It’s not a very reliable way to kill someone, is it?”
“No,” Rose agreed. “Which is why I’m inclined to believe he found her dead and simply took advantage of the situation… Except…”
Rowen’s heart sank in her chest, pushing out the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Except I still feel like there’s something more sinister going on here.”
“Aye, there’s the rub.”
Rowen w
as silent for a little while. She could hear Rose take a breath to say something more than once. She never did. There wasn’t anything to say that would make either of them feel any better about all this. “I’ll talk to him again.”
“You don’t have to,” Rose said quickly. “I only called to tell you all this because I thought you deserved to know. I don’t know how long it’ll stay out of the headlines. Channel 2 will be ravenous if they find even a shred of proof.”
“Yeah. How’s Margo doing with that?”
“It sounds like she’s talked Julia down from the ledge a few times. Now might not be the best time, but she… She offered you up as a bartering chip.”
“She did what now?”
“She said she would do everything she could to get you on Channel 2 if things went sideways.”
Rowen’s next exhale came out as a laugh at the absurdity of that. “Well, she’s certainly welcome to try and talk me into it.”
“Yes, well, either way it may have bought us some time… If time even needs to be bought here. If we’re lucky, there is no story and everyone can just move on with their lives.”
“Speaking of which, did you find anything else out about my father?”
“Like what?”
There were too many questions vying to be asked first. At the same time, she wanted desperately to hang up. What would knowing more about a father who didn’t care about her accomplish? “Never mind.”
Rowen began to say her goodbyes but Rose stopped her, clearing her throat. “Um,” Rose began. “There is one thing of note, probably.”
Rowen’s hand was itching to take the phone from her ear and hang up. She wouldn’t let herself. She wasn’t this weak. She wouldn’t let her father make her this afraid of the facts.
“Obviously, your father hasn’t gotten married again. It does seem that he’s technically still married to your mother.” Rose hesitated like even she was having second thoughts.
“Just tell me,” Rowen said, firmly.
“Okay, well, he hasn’t had other wives, but it seems he does have… other kids.”
A painful kind of cold started in Rowen’s heart and radiated out through her limbs. “How many?” she asked.
“Hard to say. He’s in legal trouble over two, but there hasn’t been a paternity test. You definitely have a half-sister, though.”
Rowen’s mouth had gone very dry. She swallowed before forcing out her next question. “What’s her name?”
“Coreen. Coreen Trainer. She’s only about two years younger than you are.”
Coreen. Rowen thought back to Coreen, tall and pretty with her long, black hair. With Rowen’s petite build and lighter complexion, they didn’t look a lot alike. Even so, it felt obvious. How had Rowen ever assumed Coreen was the woman Desmond was trying to marry? The most likely answer was that she hadn’t wanted to believe she had siblings. The idea that she had family out there that were and would always remain strangers to her was a depressing one.
“Are you okay?” asked Rose.
Rowen shook her head, shaking herself from the daze she had apparently slipped into. “Yeah, yeah… I’m okay.” That was technically true. She was shaken, but she was okay. Mostly. “It’s just…I didn’t think… It doesn’t matter. Why is Coreen traveling with him?”
“I couldn’t say. I don’t know much about any of that. I just know that she’s his daughter. Sorry.”
“No, it’s all right. I guess I should… I should probably sit down and have a chat with her as well, huh?”
“Only if you want to. You know you can sit this one out, right? You can sit this one out.”
“No, I can’t.” That was all there was to it. This whole thing hit way too close to home. Rowen couldn’t back away now. She needed answers. At the very least, she needed to let Coreen know that she knew who she was. Rowen had always wanted a sister.
Chapter Nine
Desmond was a hard man to pin down, especially if Rowen didn’t want to camp out in front of the hotel. Fortunately, Coreen was a little easier. She answered after three rings. “Hello?” she answered, tone flat like she was annoyed. None of this could be much fun for her, Rowen decided. She didn’t know why Coreen had kept their sisterhood a secret. Maybe she was a con-artist like their father appeared to be. Better not to jump to conclusions, though. Better to give Coreen the benefit of the doubt.
“Hey, it’s Rowen.”
“I could see that before I answered the phone. What’s up?”
It would be easy to decide to dislike Coreen after that cheery reception. “I have Shane’s key. Can we meet up somewhere so I can hand it over to you? I don’t want to have to be around Desmond again.”
“You can just leave it at the front desk of the hotel.”
“I’m not actually allowed in there. I’m banned.”
“That didn’t keep you from coming there before.”
“Yeah, I kind of ignore warnings people give me. That’s probably why I’m banned.” It would be easy to blurt everything out right then, to say that she knew what their relationship was. Rowen couldn’t bring herself to do so. There was this strange thought rolling around in her head, an image of Coreen skipping town before she and Rowen could talk face to face. Their mom and dad had a tendency to take off when things got rough. Maybe that instinct had skipped Rowen.
Coreen was quiet on the other end of the phone. “I guess I can meet you at the coffee shop down the street.”
“Sounds great.”
***
Coreen made it to the coffee shop before Rowen did. She could see her standing on the curb while she parked, her hands shoved in the pockets of a suede trench coat. The fact that she was waiting out in the cold was a bad sign. Rowen had been hoping to corner her in a booth, sip some coffee and exchange niceties before coming out with the real reason she had asked to meet her. From the look of it, Coreen just wanted the keys—which Rowen didn’t have.
“Hey,” said Rowen, approaching her half-sister with a forced smile.
Coreen had been staring out into the distance. Her eyes snapped to Rowen and focused there. “Hey,” she echoed. She took a gloved hand from her pocket and held it out to Rowen. “Thanks for bringing it,” she said without actually sounding thankful at all. Her voice was as tired and bored as it had been on the phone. “I’ve got errands to run, so this is one less thing to take care of.”
Rowen placed a hand on her purse, like she was about to reach in and grab the keys. “Hey… I’m sorry I’ve been so short with you. All this stuff with Desmond has me scattered, and—”
“It’s fine,” interrupted Coreen, again looking very disinterested.
“Do you want to sit down? I’ll buy you a coffee.”
“Like I said, I’ve got errands and—”
“I swear this isn’t about the paper or—”
“That’s fine. I don’t care. It’s really not personal. I just have things I need to get done today.” Coreen flexed her fingers emphatically, like she was urging Rowen to hand her the keys immediately. She was beginning to frown, beginning to look like she might decide to leave without the keys if Rowen was going to hold them hostage.
“Look, I know you’re my half-sister.” Rowen couldn’t find any other way around it. Blurting out the words was all that came to her. So much for gently approaching the subject. “Now, can we go inside and have a chat?”
Coreen stared, the frown gone. She dropped her hand to her side. She wavered a little as if unsteady on her own feet. “Yeah, I think sitting down is a good idea.”
They both ordered a coffee. Rowen’s nerves were shot, but she had never seen a point in decaf. Neither did Coreen it seemed. For a while they just sat there across from each other, waiting for the coffees to cool enough to drink.
Coreen was the first to break the silence. “So, when did you figure it out?”
“I didn’t,” Rowen admitted, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I had to be told, actually. My cousin, Rose, did some digging and called me about
an hour ago.”
Coreen gave a laugh that turned to a groan, like she found all of this darkly humorous. “I could tell you thought I was the woman he was marrying.” Rowen was about to put her hands over her face in shame, but Coreen beat her to it. “God, I wanted to correct you, but I kept putting it off and putting it off. In the end it just seemed easier to not talk about it. Just let you assume, you know?”
“I probably knew,” Rowen admitted. “It seems so obvious now. I’ve always wondered if I had siblings out there in the world. It’s one thing to wonder, it’s another thing to willingly come face to face with one.”
“Believe me,” said Coreen, her eyes on Rowen’s as she slowly rotated her steaming coffee cup. “I know the feeling.”
“So, who—why—I… I have a ton of questions, I’m sorry.” Rowen’s cheeks felt warm again. She felt foolish, like she should have prepared for this conversation like she would prepare for an interview. Sure, it was ridiculous, but it would have made things a lot easier.
Coreen laughed one of those morbid laughs again. “That’s understandable. Just… go ahead and ask whatever you want to know, I guess.”
Where to start? There were at least a dozen questions all vying to be asked first. “Where are you from?” That felt like a good place to start.
“Alabama, believe it or not.” Coreen paused as if for effect, taking a cautious slurp at her coffee. She winced. Still too hot, apparently.
Rowen wasn’t sure what was so unbelievable about Coreen being born in Alabama. She didn’t know anything about the woman. There wasn’t anything about her that screamed small town or big city, though Coreen certainly seemed to think there did.
“That’s not where Desmond met my mom, though,” Coreen continued, sitting her coffee back down. Rowen noted that she still called their father Desmond, despite her identity being revealed. “They met each other at some big music festival.”
“That sounds about right.”
Coreen shrugged. “I guess he’s grown out of it. As long as I’ve known him, he hasn’t been big on festivals or concerts or parties—that kind of thing.”