“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” Lucky said. “You knew she was married to her publisher?”
“Oh, yeah. Word filtered through the grapevine at my newspaper. A couple of people couldn’t wait to tell me.” Hank shook his head. “That’s the real reason she came to Snowflake. I’m sure nobody around here could figure out why she’d pick our little village to settle in. She came to offer me a deal. That’s what I was doing at the Drake House. I almost didn’t go. If I could turn the clock back, I never would have gone there that night.”
“What time were you there?’
Hank sighed. “I don’t know. I was only there about five or ten minutes. I left a little after ten, I guess.”
“What kind of deal was she talking about?” Barry asked.
“If I would agree to write a sequel to the first book, she’d pay me off if I kept quiet. She’d pay me a lot of money.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I told her to go to hell,” Hank shouted, suddenly angry. “She ripped my heart out years ago, she stole the product of all my hard work. I was a mess for a long time after that. And then to add insult to injury, she pretends it’s her book and her big-shot husband publishes it. She famous and rich and I’m just the jerk who got taken.”
“You could’ve blown the whistle on her,” Barry offered.
“Yeah, right. And who would believe me? I didn’t even have a copy of the damn thing. It wasn’t copyrighted. All the hard copies were gone. I’d just look like a sour grapes ex-husband who got dumped. I’d have no way to prove it was mine. Besides, I don’t care anymore. I don’t need the money. I’m fine, my life is comfortable. I gave up writing a long time ago.”
“I still think it’s terrible,” Lucky replied. “Talk about taking someone to the cleaners.”
“Believe me, if she had just stolen money or things, it wouldn’t have hurt anywhere near as much.”
“So that was one of the arguments people at the Drake House heard that night.”
“I guess so. I guess I was pretty loud. I lost it. I was so upset. And Hilary just sat there, smiling, like a regal queen as if I’d be so hungry for her attention and her money that I’d just let her steal from me again. Unbelievable!”
“Look, Hank, you should come back with us. There’s no need for all this hiding out in Bournmouth. If you told Nate your story, I know he’d understand. He’s under a lot of pressure and he’s got to talk to you. Somebody in that group killed her. Somebody went into that room between ten o’clock, the time you were there, and five minutes to eleven when the maid went in to pick up the tray.”
“That’s who found her? The maid at the Drake House?”
“Yes. Whoever killed her had to be one of those people in her entourage. Her publicist, her daughter-in-law, her son . . . one of them. But Nate has absolutely no clue which one.”
Hank looked up. “Her son? Hilary had a son?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. Just surprised, I guess. I tend to forget how many years have gone by. I knew she had a daughter, but I don’t know whatever happened to the kid.”
“A daughter?” Barry asked.
Hank nodded. “Yes, before I met her. Hilary came from Bournmouth originally. She was young then. She gave the baby up for adoption. Refused to have anything to do with the girl. Didn’t want to hear about her. Just forgot all about it. That was Hilary all over. I was surprised when she told me. No feeling though. No regrets. Just like it was a fact of her life.”
“I wonder if the girl ever tried to find her parents, or her mother?”
“That I don’t know. There are ways now that that can be done, but I think both parties have to be willing to be found,” Hank replied.
“That’s so sad,” Lucky mused. “Maybe somebody should try to find her. She has a right to know her mother’s dead.” Lucky thought about her own parents and couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not know where one came from. “It’s horrible to think she might be trying to find her mother and then to learn she was dead before she could make contact . . .”
“Knowing Hilary, the kid might be better off. I know the state tried to contact her about the little girl. The baby was adopted, but something happened. Hilary would never say, but something had happened to the adoptive parents and the little girl was going to be put into the foster care system if another family couldn’t be found.”
“What happened to them? To the parents?”
“I don’t know the details. All I know is there was a fire. Their house burned down and I think they both died.”
“How old would the baby have been then?”
“Well, let’s see. Hilary and I were together five years and she had the girl about five years before that, if I remember. So maybe the little girl was nine or ten at the time.”
“Ten years old? The poor little thing. She’s given up for adoption and then loses her family like that?”
“Yeah, I agree. Didn’t bother Hilary a bit though. She still wanted no part of the kid. And come to think of it, that kid would be about forty years old by now.”
“But those are the things that mark people for life, Hank. For all we know, that daughter has spent her whole life hoping her mother would come for her. It just breaks my heart to think about it. Do you know where they placed her afterward?”
“No idea. Maybe somebody adopted her again or she became a ward of the state—institutionalized.”
“Institutionalized?” Lucky said. “What a horrible word. Why couldn’t another family be found?”
“Well, there were . . . some questions, I think. There was some doubt that the girl was all right in the head if you know what I mean. Hilary started calling her the ‘bad seed.’ That was her idea of humor. The details, I just don’t know. The people from the state did make an effort to reach her, but Hilary wouldn’t talk to them. I remember that much. I tried to get her to open up about it, but I didn’t have any luck.”
“Look, Hank. Come back with us. There really isn’t any need to be hiding out here.”
Hank shook his head. “I can’t. I don’t want to go home just yet. I just want my privacy. I’m telling you both this stuff in confidence. I don’t want the whole town to know I was once married to her and I was taken for a fool.”
“That’s better than being arrested for murder,” Barry said. “Where are you staying, by the way?”
“I’m not going to tell you. If you don’t know, you won’t have to lie if Nate questions you.”
Barry sighed. “I wish you’d reconsider. You haven’t done a damn thing wrong.”
“Hank . . .” Lucky hesitated. “I don’t know if I should tell you this or not.”
“What’s that?”
“This wasn’t in the papers. They think Hilary Stone was strangled with a telephone cord.”
Hank groaned and put his head in his hands. “Just like my book.”
Chapter 33
“I GUESS WE got no choice. We’ll head back to town.” Barry looked over at Lucky behind the wheel. “Lucky? You okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just thinking about the daughter. If this child was placed in state care and if she’s around forty years old now, where would she be?”
“She could be anywhere. Grown up, maybe married with children of her own. How old was Hilary Stone anyway?”
“The papers said she was sixty-four.”
“You’re thinking that somebody should notify the girl that her mother’s dead?”
Lucky nodded. “I do. I think if it were me in that situation, I would certainly want to know. Don’t forget, some people live their whole life and never wonder, and then one day they just turn a corner and have to find their adopted child or the parent who gave birth to them. And sometimes there are siblings that they want to meet, or sometimes twins are separated. It’s all so sad.”
“I have heard somewhere about a website where people can post their information, and if the other party is also searching, they can connect. But we don’t even know her daughter’s name or the name her adoptive parents gave her. If we could find that, we might be able to locate her.”
“Didn’t Hank say that Hilary came from Bournmouth originally? Maybe the baby was born here.”
“It’s a good bet. And we know her maiden name—Means. That’s a start. Maybe we should talk to Nate. He has the authority to find this stuff out.”
“How are we gonna do that and not tell him we’ve been talking to Hank?” Barry demanded.
“Good question. Maybe that’s not such a good idea.” Lucky leaned her head back against the headrest.
“You realize we’ll really be in the doghouse if Nate finds out we met with Hank and didn’t tell him.”
Lucky cringed. “You’re right. There’s got to be another way. I remember my mother talking about a . . . what did they call it in her generation? A home for unwed mothers? It was here in Bournmouth, I think. It was called the . . .” Lucky shook her head. “It’s on the tip of my tongue. It’s named after a woman and it was a refuge for pregnant girls or women that had no place else to go.” Lucky sat forward. “I remember now!” she exclaimed. “It was the Dorothy Banks Home. That was it. I wonder if it’s still here.” Lucky turned the key in the ignition. “Let’s go find a phone book.”
“There’s a post office and a municipal building we passed on the way in. They’d have some kind of a local directory. If not, one of those little shops further on.”
Lucky pulled out onto the street. She made a U-turn in front of the park and drove back the same way they had come into town.
“I see it, just up there on the right,” Barry said. “If you pull over, I’ll run in and ask.”
Lucky pulled into a short-term parking space in front of the building and Barry climbed out and hurried up the stairs. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Hilary Stone, a young woman, if she had no other option, would probably have stayed at a place like the Dorothy Banks Home to have her child. And the Banks Home must have acted as a go-between for adoption services. If only she had the name of the daughter, she could search for a birth certificate. That would have to be a matter of public record. She looked up and saw Barry returning down the stairs. He climbed into the car.
“It’s called the Banks Family Center now. They’re in the phone book under Banks, but one of the clerks told me it’s the same place. It’s just a few blocks away.”
Lucky glanced over at Barry. “Should we give it a try? I doubt they’ll give out any information but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
“Sure,” he replied. “I’m up for it. I don’t see how this helps Hank, but if it worries you, let’s go.”
Chapter 34
“HOW MUCH LONGER are you planning to keep us here?” Audra stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed, an edge of anger in her voice.
“Please, take a seat,” Nate answered flatly.
Audra huffed. “Very well. But I have to remind you I do have a very busy schedule. Hilary Stone was not my only client and I am under pressure from many directions. I have to get back to New York as soon as possible.”
“I understand that, believe me, Miss Klemack. The sooner I’m able to interview everyone, the sooner I can complete this investigation and the sooner you’ll be able to go home.”
Audra sighed heavily and collapsed into a wing-back chair across from Nate. “What is it you think I could possibly tell you?”
“I’d like to go over the statement you made the morning after Ms. Stone’s death, if you don’t mind.”
“All right.”
“Now, you said that you arrived at the Spoonful around five thirty that evening.”
“That’s correct.”
“And who were you with?”
“Well, we all came together. I mean, we all arrived at the same time, but I drove over in my car from the Drake House with Phoebe. She’s Ms. Stone’s personal assistant. And Derek brought Sylvia.”
“Derek drove his own car?”
“Yes. Well, no. He has a rental car while he’s here.”
“And how did Ms. Stone arrive?”
“Derek installed Sylvia, I’m sure just to annoy us, and then returned to bring Hilary over when the event was about to start.”
“I see.” Nate scribbled in his notebook. He had heard all this before but was continuing to question everyone involved until he found a chink, a flaw in one of their stories. “Did anything unusual happen at the book signing?”
Audra shrugged her shoulders. A blank look on her face. “No. Nothing out of the ordinary. There were mobs of people but everything was as usual. Hilary spoke for a while and answered questions and then began to sign the books that people had purchased.” Her brow furrowed.
Nate looked at her questioningly. “You remembered something?”
“Oh, yes. It was nothing though. A package was delivered to the office and I gave it to Derek before the book signing. It was a personal delivery for Hilary and I had forgotten about it. Left it in my car. I told Derek to give it to his mother when he brought her back to the inn.”
This was the first Nate had heard of a package. “What kind of a package?”
“Oh, just a large envelope.”
“And do you remember who it was from?”
Audra thought for a moment. “No. Sorry. I don’t remember. Wherever it was from, I didn’t recognize the name, so it didn’t stick in my mind.”
“And where is that envelope now?’
“Oh, I imagine it’s in Hilary’s room.”
“I see.” No large envelope had been on the list of items from the victim’s room.
Nate cleared his throat. “Several guests here have remarked that they heard an argument, or raised voices, sometime close to ten o’clock that evening. Another witness has reported hearing an argument in Ms. Stone’s room later, around ten thirty. Possibly a man and a woman arguing. Did you hear anything?”
“I heard voices. I just assumed it was Derek and Sylvia going at it again. Mostly it’s Sylvia. I didn’t pay any attention.”
“And what time was that?”
“I have no idea,” Audra replied blandly. “I didn’t check my watch. I was really too tired to think about it.”
Nate nodded. “Okay. That’s all for now. I may need to talk to you again.”
Audra’s face took on a long-suffering look. “Just please let me know when I can get back to my office.”
“I definitely will,” Nate replied.
Chapter 35
THE BANKS FAMILY Center was a remodeled rambling Gothic structure. Originally a grand family home, now jutting wings had been added on either side, and a new entryway diminished some of the Victorian feel that it once had. A signpost in the lawn halfway up the circular drive pointed to a visitor parking area on the side of the building.
Lucky turned to Barry. “This is a crazy thought, but do you think if you had the name of the mother, you could search for a birth certificate that would show the date of the birth?”
Barry shook his head. “I kinda doubt it. Especially years ago. Now, with computers, maybe everything is scanned and you can search for a particular name. But I still don’t think it can be done. You’d have to be government of some sort or police to access a record like that. Even so, maybe it still can’t be done. You’d have to have an approximate date of birth or location or social security number or something to go by.”
“I’ll bet you’re right.” Lucky tossed her keys into her purse. “Let’s go inside and see what we can find out.”
They approached the freshly painte
d white double doors and entered a pleasantly comfortable lobby filled with roomy armchairs and sofas. Several women with small children waited in the lobby for appointments. A woman in a pink smock manned a wide reception desk. The walls were hung with photos from days gone by. Lucky stopped to look. A black-and-white photograph of two nurses in a room lined with cradles smiled at the camera. “Look at this, Barry.”
Barry whistled under his breath. “It looks like a regular baby factory.”
“What a terrible time these women must have had. The stigma of an unplanned pregnancy, families that might have turned their backs on them, even teenagers, no place to turn to, no chance of child support from the father, so little hope. Thank heavens times have changed, and women, if they decide to, can find a way to keep their babies, without fear of job discrimination or social shunning. It’s so sad to see these newborns all lined up like that. Like an orphanage. Like a baby storage warehouse.” Lucky steeled herself and headed for the front desk. The woman in the pink smock smiled as she approached.
“Hello.” Lucky smiled, wondering if the woman perceived her as a possible unwed mother. “I’m trying to locate a child, a child that might have been born here perhaps forty years ago. Is it possible that any information like that would be accessible?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “How long ago did you say?”
“I believe about forty years ago. I’m trying to contact an adoptee with information about her mother.”
“Oh, I see.” The woman glanced at Barry, who had followed in Lucky’s wake. He stood up straighter and looked down to make sure the buttons on his shirt were all in place. “Do you know the name of the person . . . child? Are you sure that child was born here at the Banks Center?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I believe so.”
“Well, forty years ago was a long time. Things have changed a lot. Now we offer all sorts of family services and counseling. And providing shelter to unwed mothers isn’t the main thing we do now. I really doubt we’d even have those records in our archives. Information about births was always reported to the state. But it’s confidential. Even if a child was born here, we couldn’t possibly give out any information. If you’re the adoptee or the birth mother, there are avenues to request information from the Vermont Adoption Registry. I can give you their number and website and you could try talking to them.”
A Clue in the Stew Page 14