“Tell me why I should see you now.”
“Because...” She took a deep breath as her fingers gripped tighter to the upholstery, and moisture gleamed in her eyes. Swallowing, she lifted her chin. “...I need answers and I believe you are the only one who can help me.”
Her approach was contrary to both Pauline McFadden’s and my mother’s, having me both curious and intrigued. Inhaling, I answered, “Judge, I don’t have much time.” I gestured to the chair. “Please have a seat and you may ask what you want. I can’t guarantee I’m able or willing to answer.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sparrow.” She pulled back the chair and sat, not at the edge as my mother would do, but settled on the seat, placing her hands on the table, like the judge she was. “I appreciate your candor.”
Joining her at the table, I sat and asked, “What do you believe I can answer that you don’t know?”
Her eyes—the exact color as Araneae’s—blinked as she appeared to collect her thoughts. “I’ve been wrestling with this since the night at the club. While I have a million questions, the one that I keep returning to is how is it possible?”
“You aren’t going to ask me if she’s really her?”
“I-I...I would like confirmation; however, I believe that when I saw her in the bathroom of the club—when our eyes met—I knew. In my heart, I knew.”
I nodded.
“Please understand this from my perspective,” she said.
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Her head tilted as a sad smile floated across her lips. “I didn’t give her up. It was a choice I struggled with at the time. It was an option presented to me, to protect her. I considered it, yet I couldn’t. I was selfish. Instead, I vowed to protect her. The sad truth was that even if she would have been safer with other people, I couldn’t do it, despite the things Daniel had done. When the time came—when she was born—the decision was taken from me.
“I wanted her more than I wanted life. As a matter of fact, when she died—when I thought she died—I contemplated going with her. I couldn’t harm myself, but I didn’t eat. I slept for days, for weeks. I was so grief-stricken that I was even beyond inconsolable.” She looked down at her hands on the table, one wringing the other. “When you entered the club, there were whispers. Rubio was furious. Her name was being repeated in all directions. My mind knew it couldn’t be true.” A lone tear trickled from her soft brown eye. “I’d held her in my arms, her lifeless body. I cradled her and told her all the things I could—that I loved her, I always would. That she was now my angel.”
She inhaled and wiped the renegade tear away. “Well, being there at the club, her sitting at the bar...I couldn’t take it. I went to the bathroom to gather my thoughts, telling myself that you were a Sparrow. You couldn’t be trusted and this was a ruse.”
I sat taller.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sparrow. It was what I thought. I’m being honest. And then as I was washing my hands, she came out of a stall.” A new smile floated across her lips, bringing a gleam to her eyes. “I always imagined my daughter would look like me, my hair and eyes. The infant that I held had dark hair, and I never saw her eyes.
“When our gazes met in that mirror, it was as if I were seeing my own reflection in a twisted time machine. I-I became momentarily paralyzed. All of my dreams and all of my visions for the child I carried were suddenly alive, wrapped up in the astonishing young woman at my side.
“I knew, in my heart. And then I had the confirmation when I saw her bracelet. It was supposed to have been buried with her.”
“Bracelet?” I couldn’t remember which bracelet Araneae had worn that night. There were too many other things on my mind. And then I recalled mentioning it outside of the elevator before we’d entered. “Why did you want that old charm bracelet buried with her?”
Judge Landers shook her head. “I know your time is limited. It’s a long, boring story. My point is that even without more proof, I believe you. I don’t understand and I may never, but I believe.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. “Maybe it’s wishful thinking. If it is, it’s the most I’ve had in...twenty-six years.
“Mr. Sparrow, I don’t know if you have more proof or not, but I pray to all things holy that you’re not lying, trying to get to Rubio with a charade. I want better than that for both my daughter and for me.”
“Judge Landers, I have DNA proof. I’m certain it doesn’t make sense, but I wanted her to be Araneae McCrie—”
She gasped.
“What?”
“The way you pronounce her name.”
“Yes? It was the way I was told.”
Judge Landers shook her head. “Uh-rain-ā was how Daniel wanted it pronounced. I wanted it pronounced Uh-ron-e-eye, just like the spider.” She waved her hand. “Never mind, please go on.”
Interesting.
“I also wanted her to be who I was told she was. I didn’t want to be disappointed nor did I want to bring someone into this world, this world,” I repeated, believing she’d understand my meaning, “who didn’t belong.”
“But how?”
“Hair. Yours and hers.”
“Mine? How?”
I shook my head. “The particulars aren’t important. What is important is that you and Araneae share mitochondrial DNA. We didn’t have access to your husband’s DNA, but from what I was told, only women can pass along their mitochondrial DNA to their children.”
Her fingers came to her lips as she gasped again. “What does she know about me?”
“Nothing until you said something at the club.”
“I-I was in shock.”
For the first time ever with this quest, I felt a twinge of guilt for the way this played out, not for making the statement that Araneae was mine, but for Annabelle.
How could we have known that she had also been lied to?
“I would like to,” she said, her soft brown eyes pleading, “do a better job of introducing myself.”
“Your sister-in-law met with her this morning. I’m afraid she didn’t pave the way to a family reunion.”
Judge Landers sat taller. “Mr. Sparrow, I have never had problems with you. With your father, yes. Is she...is my daughter happy?”
“That’s my goal.”
She nodded. “I implore you to let her know that I’ve dreamt of reuniting with her one day—away from this earth. As time passed and I’ve made necessary decisions, I feared that those decisions would never allow that reunion to happen. Surely my innocent daughter ended up in a better place than I one day would. And now you have provided a means for that reunion to occur. Please let her know that I’m sincere.”
“She was upset by Mrs. McFadden.”
Annabelle’s chin rose as she inhaled and exhaled. “Pauline has a way with people. She doesn’t believe that she’s really Araneae. Pauline said that her real name is Kennedy Hawkins. Is that true?”
“Real is a subjective term. Araneae McCrie was declared deceased. Her legal name is Kennedy Hawkins, and when it comes to Ms. Hawkins, I’m certain you’ve done your research.”
A smile broke out across her face. “I have. Silk fashions. Isn’t that...something?”
My phone vibrated in my pocket, yet I remained focused on Judge Landers. Nodding, I added, “Your daughter is something. I’ll talk to her, but meeting with you is her decision and hers alone. My only stipulation is that neither Pauline nor Rubio McFadden or his men are allowed anywhere near her.”
“Surely you don’t believe the old wives’ tale.”
“Which one would that be, Judge Landers?” I asked.
“That my daughter somehow possesses evidence that Daniel hid.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t,” she confirmed with a shake of her head. “I was there with my husband. I refused to learn the details. In my position with the courts, I couldn’t. I believe that whatever Daniel knew died the night he took his own life.”
That had been the official story—not t
he accurate one but the one that helped people sleep at night.
“Then again,” she went on, “I never believed my daughter was alive.”
I debated telling her that Araneae didn’t have the information. Annabelle may be upset with Pauline, but when it came to Rubio, I couldn’t be certain that she could be trusted. “Nevertheless, Araneae will not be put in harm’s way again. That includes Rubio, Pauline, and any of McFadden’s men.”
Judge Landers began to stand. “Mr. Sparrow, I won’t keep you any longer.” She reached into her purse and handed me a card. “Here are my private numbers. I thank you for your time.”
Joining her in standing, I nodded. “I want you to know that I didn’t find her to hurt you.” I wasn’t sure what compelled me to tell her that, but I did.
“No, I believe you found her to hurt Rubio, and I don’t care. You found her.” She reached out toward me and stopped, placing both hands on her purse. “Somehow, because of you, life and hope have been allowed to bloom in a place where I never thought that would be possible. I choose to believe that you’re sincere in wanting her happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. No matter the reason you found her, thank you.”
Araneae
Jana met us with wide eyes upon our return. “Is everything okay?”
If only there was a simple answer to that question. Instead, I deferred. “Did anything happen while we were away?”
“No, mostly quiet.”
“Please hold all calls—all,” I emphasized, knowing there was one man who could be persistent.
“Ms. Hawkins?” Patrick asked as I headed toward my office.
I turned his way. “Winnie and I need to continue our conversation from the hotel room. We were on a time limit.”
Though disagreement rippled off of Patrick in waves and I knew he wanted an answer to the question he’d texted me, he didn’t return my statement with a rebuttal but simply a nod.
Once Winnie and I were inside my private office with the door shut, I gestured toward the table—the one still cluttered with sketches for Mrs. McFadden. “I don’t have anything stronger, not here. Would you like a cup of coffee or water?” I asked.
Shaking her head, she sat. “I am sorry.”
After silencing my phone, putting it into my purse, and securing it in the drawer of my desk, I made my way to the bookcase where the coffee decanter was located. Pouring myself a cup of the hours-old yet still-warm java, I added cream and stirred. Watching the swirls, I collected my thoughts. After a deep sigh, I went on, “You do keep saying that you’re sorry. Do you have anything in the safe within your hotel room?”
Her blue eyes looked up. “What?”
“You obviously can’t stay in that hotel room another night. I’d bet it’s bugged.”
“Kenni, who are you? What the hell is happening? The person I know—knew—wouldn’t even think that way. What Agent Hunter said about Mr. Sparrow being dangerous, he convinced me that it was true. He made me believe I was helping you by getting you in touch with the FBI, like you were being forced to do something...unwillingly.”
Taking a deep breath, I carried my coffee to the table and sat. “Sterling is in real estate.”
“You have mentioned that many times. It seems that maybe there’s a middle ground between the monster Agent Hunter described and this man who swept you off your feet. Or maybe it’s hard for you to see with all the dollar signs swirling around.”
Dollar signs?
I looked up. “Explain.”
“You said you’re living with him.”
I nodded.
“You have your own personal bodyguard. You’re wearing expensive clothes. I can assume the trip to Canada was his idea. And you look...” She waved her hands my direction. “...I don’t know—different. You’ve always been the most confident one of us, the one willing to take chances. Now it’s as if you seem...regal.” She shook her head again. “I don’t mean like you think you’re better but that you actually are. There’s an air. It’s not...damn, I’m not saying this right.”
“Of us,” I said.
“What?”
“You said of us—I was the confident one of us.”
“Yes.”
“I suppose if I’m being honest,” I said, “I feel betrayed and disappointed. Why would you choose to discuss Sinful Threads and me with someone else, not Louisa but a stranger? If there is an us, shouldn’t we first bring our concerns to one another?”
Winnie leaned back. “As you know, Louisa is busy with both work and preparations for the baby. And the concerns about you weren’t only mine; we’d all shared our unease. Louisa and I talked about your odd change in behavior. You went days with hardly a text or email.
“He, Agent Hunter, isn’t a stranger, not now. He came to me in Boulder. At first, he wasn’t upfront with me about who he was, saying he was an insurance adjuster and asking questions about your apartment.”
Oh my God. The blond insurance adjuster the lady from my apartment spoke about.
“Go on,” I said. “You happened to start talking about my behavior to an insurance adjuster?”
“He brought you and your apartment up, and then he asked me out, Kenni. I hadn’t been on a date in...” She sighed. “...not a date with someone I thought was attractive. I’ve got a thing for nerds—he was a numbers guy. And bonus, if they’re handsome...” Winnie leaned forward with her hands on the table. “Wesley was all those things and easy to talk to. I agreed to drinks. We started talking. Now I feel like a total idiot. He didn’t ask me out because of me but because of you.”
Wesley.
“When did he come clean about who he was?”
“On our second date.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled.
“By then,” she said, “I’d talked about my job at Sinful Threads. I’d even talked about how we were expanding our offices to Chicago and that you’d offered me the ability to commute. I was very excited. I talk when I’m excited.” She looked at my cup. “Do you mind if I get coffee?”
As I shook my head, she stood and continued talking. “He told me that he liked me, and that was why he came clean. He said he couldn’t lie to me anymore, even if it was for his job.”
“Did you give him specifics about me or Sinful Threads?”
“No, I promise. At least I don’t think so. He knew. Once he told me who he was—what he was—he told me about the inventory numbers in Chicago not meshing. Everything he said was something we’d all discussed. He mentioned that you’d been seen publicly with Sterling Sparrow and he feared that somehow Sparrow would influence you to allow him to use Sinful Threads for a front.”
She sat back down with her cup of coffee. “I only knew about the real estate. I’d never heard of anything else about him. Are those other things true?” she asked.
My palm slapped the tabletop. “Is it true that I’d allow anyone to do anything to hurt or jeopardize Sinful Threads? Is that what you’re asking me?”
Winnie’s expression fell, curiosity morphing into sadness. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.” She looked up from her coffee with more tears in her eyes. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Sinful Threads. It’s just that there seemed to be circumstantial evidence that backed up everything he said.”
“Are you...dating Agent Hunter?”
“No,” she answered too quickly. “I agreed to talk to you while I was here and feel out the situation. I didn’t want to believe what he was proposing was true. And then this morning I called him to let him know he was wrong, that whatever the FBI thought, they too were wrong. You weren’t doing anything against your will. You were...you are...in love with Sterling Sparrow.
“Wesley told me to meet him in my hotel room. When I got there, he was already in it.” She stood and spun. “That freaks me the hell out. He was in my locked room. I mean, who does that kind of thing?”
I could think of a list of candidates at this particular moment; however, I stayed silent, hedging on the idea that her
question was rhetorical.
“Wesley said,” she went on, “that I needed to give him a chance to speak to you.”
“Now that you did all that, what do you really think? What do you, Winifred Douglas, believe?” I asked.
“I think I let you down, that you should tell Louisa, and I should be fired.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled before opening them again. “What do you think about what Agent Hunter told you?”
“I think he’s wrong. I don’t know about the numbers. We should have Jason look into that. You know, a fresh pair of eyes? If someone is using Sinful Threads for something illegal, we need to be open with the FBI. If it’s happening, my money is on Franco Francesca. If he is doing something, he should go down, not the company.” She shrugged. “Maybe wishful thinking. I don’t want to believe that it’s you or a man you care about.”
“I guarantee it isn’t me or Sterling. Think about it, Winnie, when Sterling can’t be with me, he has Patrick beside me twenty-four seven. He knows how much Sinful Threads means to me. The real estate deals Agent Hunter mentioned are accurate. Sinful Threads has received better-than-market deals. That’s not illegal. And there are no strings attached.”
“None?”
“Not regarding business.” My cheeks warmed as I pushed away the thoughts of strings or scarves and our four-poster bed. “I think I do need to tell Louisa but not until after Kennedy is born. She doesn’t need the stress. As for firing you...” I thought about talking to Sterling and Patrick and then remembered what I’d been saying: Sinful Threads was my company, mine and Louisa’s. “...I don’t want to do that. However, what I do need from you is a promise that you and Wesley Hunter are done.”
Winnie nodded.
“The other things you heard such as about my name...” I let the sentence go incomplete.
“I-I don’t have any idea what he was saying. I still don’t. He never mentioned any of that before.”
Promises Page 3