Blair shook her head. “I haven’t gotten any closer than the police have. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you two, because you’d try to talk me out of reporting it.”
“Rani, I know how things look. But I really don’t think it’s Ben,” Morgan said weakly. “I’m a good judge of those things, and I’ve been around him a lot in the last few days.”
Blair almost laughed as she came up the porch. “No, you’re not! You’re a terrible judge. You think with your heart. You let people convince you that they’re good when they’re really not. And do I need to remind you that just a week ago you thought Ben Jackson was the scum of the earth? You remember, Morgan. When he was putting up all those signs and running those ads, throwing hundred dollar bills around like they were M&Ms, while you and Jonathan could barely get fliers into the hands of the voters?”
“So we were competitive with him. It wasn’t like we thought he was a killer!”
“And speaking of the election,” Blair said, “I don’t think Jonathan should stop campaigning just because of this. It’s too important. He’s got to win this race. He should get back to work this very afternoon. Door-to-door, shaking hands, person-to-person.”
Morgan bristled. “It doesn’t hurt to take a few days off of campaigning to honor someone who’s just lost his wife.”
“You don’t see Sam Sullivan taking time off.”
Morgan threw up her hands. “Fine. Let him move ahead. I’m tired of this whole mess.”
“Me, too.” Rani sat there a moment as if trying to hold herself together. “I really miss her. I keep wanting to pick up the phone and tell her stuff. Who am I gonna talk to now?”
Blair looked down at her feet. She knew that feeling. There were still times when she picked up the phone to dial her mother. She wondered how long that would last.
She looked back at Rani. Was she just seeking friendship and someone to talk to, or had she really come by to shut Blair up?
Maybe Blair would get to know Rani better, when all of this died down. They had a few things in common now, after all. By the time it was all behind them, they each might need a friend.
CHAPTER 34
Cade found that the lab report on Ben’s shoes answered the questions the media had already answered. The dirt on the shoes was the same dirt found at the scene where Lisa’s car had been pushed in. That, added to the phone cord that had come from Ben’s home—the same cord that had been used to strangle Lisa—as well as the alibi that couldn’t be confirmed, gave Cade probable cause for an arrest, and the DA had insisted that he go ahead and bring Ben in.
He’d hoped to make the arrest quietly, but there were already dozens of media standing outside Ben’s place, taking pictures of every person who came or went. They shouted questions at Cade and his officers as they went to the door.
Ben opened it before they could ring the bell. He took one look at Cade, then threw up his hands. “What do you want?”
Cade stepped inside, out of the sight of the reporters. Johnson and Caldwell came in behind him. “Ben, we have a warrant to arrest you for Lisa’s murder—”
“Cade, I can explain the shoes. They were in her car. I left them in there the day before when we went for our appointment. She picked me up at work, and I changed my shoes because I didn’t want to wear dirty tennis shoes to the doctor. The killer must have gotten them out and used them to set me up.”
“Ben, we found them in your bedroom, under your bed.”
“I didn’t put them there! Don’t you understand?”
Cade nodded for Johnson to cuff him. “I’m sorry, Ben.”
“Cade, don’t do this! You know I didn’t kill my wife!”
Cade didn’t like doing it, especially when he still had such deep reservations about Ben being the killer, but he couldn’t go by his gut. He had to go by the evidence, and the DA had given him orders.
He hated parading Ben through the reporters, allowing them to get pictures of the grieving husband whose life had been twisted into pieces. If Ben turned out to be innocent, Cade wasn’t sure he would ever forgive himself.
“Is this about the shoes, Sheriff?” Vince Barr called out through the cameras.
Cade turned back to him. “I’m not the sheriff. I’m the police chief. At least get your facts straight before you go on national television with your wild tabloid stories, Barr.”
As he got Ben into the squad car and drove him away from the circus, Cade vowed he wouldn’t rest on this arrest.
Until he was absolutely convinced that Ben was guilty, he would keep looking for Lisa’s killer.
CHAPTER 35
The fertility clinic had a cancellation for Wednesday afternoon. Morgan had been thrilled to get in so soon, but then it hit her that the cancellation might well have been Lisa’s daily appointment.
Jonathan seemed as nervous as she as they stepped into the clinic that they hoped would change their lives. Women and men of various ages sat around the room, paging through magazines or talking softly. One woman with a baby sat in the corner, a testimony to the success of the clinic.
Morgan felt a surge of hope. Maybe one day she would come in here with her own baby in her arms. She checked in and filled out the paperwork, and then they waited.
She grew more tense as the moments ticked by, and when her name was finally called, she almost jumped out of her seat.
The nurse led them to the doctor’s office. He wasn’t there yet, so she looked around at all his medical degrees. A bulletin board with baby pictures hung on the wall behind their chairs. “Look, Jonathan.”
He turned and looked up at the pictures, some of them of multiple births. “I think we’re in the right place,” he said.
Dr. Sims came in after a few minutes. He bore a strong resemblance to Mark Harmon, the actor, and he had kind eyes. He greeted them both warmly, then took his seat behind the desk. “I saw you at Lisa’s funeral yesterday,” he said in a quiet voice. “Were you good friends?”
“Yes, we’d gotten to be over the last few weeks. She’s the one who wanted me to come see you.”
He adjusted himself in his seat, then looked down at Morgan’s file. After a moment, she realized he was struggling with his emotion.
“It’s terrible what happened to her.” He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. “It’s such a tragedy. And what happened at the funeral yesterday…” He brought his troubled eyes to Morgan’s. “You don’t think he actually killed her, do you?”
The question surprised Morgan. “We’ve been with him since before she was found. He’s a wreck. I can’t imagine that he did.”
He stared at the file again, unseeing. “I considered them both friends. When you see somebody as often as I see some of my patients, for years at a time, and you know their deepest longings and you’re trying to help them fulfill them…you get close to them.” His voice broke, and he clasped his hands in front of his mouth. “It’s very hard.”
“We feel the same way, Doctor,” Jonathan said.
He sat up straighter, took a deep breath, then scanned her records. “Well, you certainly have reason to come here. Anytime you’ve been trying over a year to get pregnant and it hasn’t happened, one has to wonder why.”
“We’re not sure that we’re ready to go the whole infertility route, Doc,” Jonathan said. “We just want to know what’s wrong. Then we’ll decide if we want to pursue it.”
“Of course. That’s what I recommend to all my patients. You have to know what your options are. The first thing I’d like to do is to test Jonathan to see if his readings are normal.”
“Me?” Jonathan asked. “But Morgan’s already been pregnant. Wouldn’t that mean that things are all right with me?”
“It’s routine, Jonathan. It’s an easy test, just to make sure you don’t have a problem that, combined with Morgan’s, is making it harder for her to get pregnant. If nothing’s wrong with you, then we’ll do what’s called a hysterosalpingogram for you, Morgan.”
Morgan had nev
er heard of that. “A what?”
He smiled. “We call it a hysterogram for short. It’s when we shoot dye into your uterus and fallopian tubes to check for blockages. That’ll tell us if the problem is with you. Then we’ll know how to proceed.”
“So when can we get started?” Jonathan asked.
“Well, we can test you today, Jonathan, if that’s all right.”
“Of course.” Morgan laughed. “I didn’t expect to jump in so soon.”
“Why wait?” Sims’ voice softened. “I’m very hopeful that you’re going to have a baby soon, and this time, you’ll carry it to term. In fact, I feel this is a personal goal. Lisa died before she could ever hold a baby in her arms. Let’s make sure that we get it right with you.”
CHAPTER 36
So you think this is going to work, huh?” Blair had come over to Hanover House to hear about the doctor visit, but her question was heavy with skepticism.
Morgan sat at the table, Caleb in her lap. The child was finger painting with chocolate pudding and working on a picture that Morgan held still. It looked like mocha chaos, but Caleb was thrilled with the effort.
“I don’t know. We’ll see what the test results show.”
“Is he going to put you through the hormonal wringer, like he does all those other women?”
“I hope not.”
“See?” Caleb cried out, indicating that he was finished.
She kissed Caleb’s chubby cheek and picked up his picture. “Look how beautiful this is. Caleb, this is the best picture you’ve done! Blair, isn’t this wonderful?”
Blair grinned and ruffled the child’s hair. “Caleb, that’s beautiful,” she said in a delighted voice. “It looks like the inner workings of a headache.”
“Blair!” Morgan grinned. Caleb thought it was high praise. “We have to let it dry now.”
“More,” he said.
“All right. I think you’ve got enough pudding for five more on your hands.” She got another piece of manila paper and set it in front of them. As Caleb began slapping it with his chocolate-blobbed hands, Blair set her chin on her palm.
“So is this doctor going to make you jump through hoops?”
“I hope it won’t come to that. We won’t know anything until he sees the test results, and maybe they’ll tell us everything. Maybe it’s just a mild case of something that they can fix. A blocked tube or something. He’ll find it. I know he will.”
“Morgan, maybe you just haven’t given it enough time. Maybe you’re jumping ahead of God.”
“I don’t think so. I think he’s given me this doctor to help me with the process. He does work through doctors, sometimes.”
“Of course he does, but I don’t want to see you get as caught up in this as Ben and Lisa were.”
Caleb finished his picture again and began licking his hands. His face looked as if he’d been bobbing for apples in a bucketful of cocoa.
“I’m serious, Morgan. You’re not going to make this an obsession, are you?”
Morgan took the baby to the sink. “Lisa and Ben were desperate to have a baby. They were doing whatever it took. What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m not sure, but there needs to be balance.”
“Well, let’s see if you feel the same way if you ever have trouble getting pregnant.”
Blair almost laughed. “Me? I can’t even keep a relationship, much less do the family thing.”
“What do you mean, you can’t keep a relationship? Hasn’t he called?”
“Nope. I haven’t talked to him since he chewed me out yesterday.”
Morgan cleaned Caleb up, then set him down. He toddled to his toy basket. She regarded her sister. “Are you okay?” But she could see that Blair wasn’t.
“I could have sworn we were getting closer. He was over Monday night, and we had a real tender moment there…But now I think he’s lost interest. I can’t believe he questioned my faith.”
Morgan wiped the pudding off the table, then rinsed her rag out over the sink. “He didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, he did. All these years he’s known me as a proud unbeliever, and I guess that’s a tough image to shake, but I would never fake my conversion. I don’t do that kind of thing, and he knows it.”
“Maybe you’ve blown his silence way out of proportion. Maybe he’s just busy. He knows what you’re like, and he knows you’ve changed.” She dried her hands. “Besides, I think he’s secretly been in love with you since before you believed.”
“In love?” Blair uttered the words with astonishment. “He’s never told me he loved me, and there’s not one thing to indicate that he had feelings for me then.”
“No, not one thing. More like a dozen things. I could see it in his eyes. It was pretty clear, even though he never would have made a move. He takes the Bible very seriously when it says not to yoke yourself with unbelievers.”
“Well, I’m not an unbeliever now. It’s maddening, this feeling of being at his mercy. All these years I was content knowing that I was going to be alone, that no man would have me because of these hideous scars.”
“They’re not hideous.”
“And finally, now I’ve had a taste of what it’s like to be in love. I don’t much like being that vulnerable.”
Morgan just smiled. “He’ll call you, Blair. You know he will.”
“When?”
“I don’t know when, but he will. Just give him a little credit, okay? He’s not the type to just dump somebody without telling them.”
“But we never had an understanding or anything. Can you dump someone that you’ve never had any kind of commitment to?”
“Cade would never lead you on if he didn’t intend to follow through.”
“Well, he’s not leading me on now. I’m just sitting here like an idiot, waiting for a phone call. I hate that.”
“I know you do, but you do it very well.” She laughed. “He’s going to call eventually, but right now he’s just stressed out. You’ll hear from him soon enough.”
The telephone rang, and Morgan laughed. “Maybe that’s him now.”
Blair grunted. “Fat chance. Maybe the results of your tests?”
“Too soon.” Morgan picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“May I speak to Morgan or Jonathan Cleary?” It was a man’s voice, crisp and rapid.
“This is Morgan.”
“Morgan, this is Anthony Hammond. I’m the attorney for Sheila Caruso.”
Morgan caught her breath. “Yes, what can I do for you, Mr. Hammond?”
Caleb started pounding a wooden spoon on his toy piano. Morgan motioned for Blair to distract him.
“I wanted to let you know that Sheila’s going to be released in a little over a week.”
Morgan froze. “What?”
Blair picked Caleb up and looked at her. “What is it?”
Morgan held her hand up to quiet her. “How can she be released in a week? She was supposed to be in for four more years.”
“The legislature issued a new law a couple of weeks ago that nonviolent offenders only have to serve twenty percent of their sentence. She’s already served that.”
“Yes, I heard that might be a possibility, but I didn’t think—” His words ricocheted through her head, making her dizzy. She groped for a chair. “What are her plans, Mr. Hammond? Regarding her children, I mean.”
“I’m not sure yet, but she plans to contact her daughter soon. I just felt you should be notified, as the foster parent of her children.”
When he hung up, Morgan set the phone back in its cradle. Her mind raced with images of her foster children being dragged away. She took Caleb from Blair and held him tight.
“Sheila’s getting out?” Blair asked in a whisper.
“That’s right.” Her voice sounded as if it came from someone else. “Next week.”
“No way! Morgan, what are her plans?”
“I don’t know.” She choked the words out. “But she’s going to want her kids.”
Caleb touched her face. She took his hand and kissed it. “She can’t take him back, Blair. She’s not ready to be a mother.”
“Oh, Sis.” She reached out to Morgan, pulling her into a hug. “What are you gonna do?”
Morgan tried to think. She couldn’t let it happen. Sheila was not equipped to care for Caleb. Her irresponsibility had almost gotten both of her children killed.
“There’s only one answer. She’ll have to come here. We’ll just have to convince her to do that, and then she can mother Caleb as much as she wants to, right here in our home. And so can I.”
“Do you think she will?”
“We’ll just have to convince her.” Fear took hold of Morgan’s heart, for she knew Sheila might have other plans.
CHAPTER 37
The test was the hardest and most important one Sadie had taken all year. She had studied her brains out, and she had a headache and a cramp in her hand from writing the essay questions.
Already half the class had turned their exam papers in. All she had to do was take the test up to her teacher and tenth grade would finally be behind her. Then she could work full-time for Blair for the summer and stop worrying about the stress and dread of being a seventeen-year-old sophomore.
She finally realized she had done her absolute best and couldn’t improve on any of her answers, so she got her books and turned the test in.
“Thank you, Sadie.” Mrs. Whitlow smiled at her. “Have a good summer.”
She walked out into the hall. Lockers were slamming in celebration as students came out of their exams, exhilarated that school was over.
But no one was happier than she. She walked up the corridor, wishing she’d never have to see this place again. She had begged Morgan to let her homeschool next year so she could work more hours for Blair. Neither Morgan nor Jonathan liked the idea.
But she hadn’t given up. If being a seventeen-year-old sophomore was bad, being an eighteen-year-old junior was sure to be worse. She had come to Cape Refuge a sixteen-year-old ninth-grade dropout, running for her life from her mother’s drug-addicted, violent boyfriend. Everyone in the school knew of her checkered past, and her few attempts at fitting in had been disastrous. Her hours at school were among the loneliest of her life.
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