by Robin Caroll
Rafe froze, and his nerves tightened into a ball as he envisioned his goddaughter’s cheery smile, so much like her mother’s. “Why?”
“Apparently the valve replacement they used in the last surgery isn’t lasting as long as they’d hoped.”
Sweet Savannah, born with a heart-valve defect that would require a regularly set schedule of surgeries until she reached adulthood when the valves would stop growing. Only four, and she’d already undergone so many surgeries, yet she stayed sunny. The next replacement hadn’t been slotted for another six months.
“Darren, I’m so sorry. When are they scheduling it?”
“Next Friday.”
A little over a week away. Rafe’s heart pounded like he’d just completed a workout. “Aw, man. I’ll be there. What time?”
“It’s at eight, but don’t come back home for it.”
“I won’t let you go through this alone.” His legs didn’t feel strong enough to support him. Rafe sank to the chair. “I promised I’d always be there for you. And Savannah.” Had made the vow to Georgia on her deathbed following a car accident not even a year after she’d had Savannah.
“I appreciate that, I do, but it’s more important to us that you stay. You don’t have seniority there and taking off . . . well, I just don’t want you to do that.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll come.”
“Don’t. I’m serious. Listen, I gotta go. Doctor’s here to discuss pre-op stuff. I’ll call you tonight and fill you in.”
“Give Savannah a hug from me and tell her I love her.” He snapped the phone shut, everything inside him tied into little knots—muscles . . . nerves . . . everything.
Rafe closed his eyes and let the painful memories break through the barrier he normally kept.
“Rafe.” Georgia was slipping fast.
He should call Darren, but she grabbed his hand. “I know you love me.” The light in her eyes was but a glimmer.
He couldn’t form the words. Tears filled his eyes. “I’ve always loved you.” But she never should have known. Ever.
She gave a pain-filled smile. “I know. So you have to promise me something.”
His heart could break his ribs. “Anything.”
“Watch over . . . Darren and Savannah. He’ll . . . need you. They’ll. Need. You.”
Rafe ran a thumb over her knuckles before placing his lips there. “Shh. You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m dying, Rafe. You know . . . I know it. Darren . . . just won’t . . . accept it.”
He laid his head on the edge of the ICU bed. Mechanical noises surrounded them.
Her fingers found their way into his hair. “Please, Rafe. Promise . . . me.”
He lifted his head and met the gaze of the woman he’d loved since high school. “I promise.”
She smiled. “Thank you. Now . . . kiss me good-bye.”
Rafe sank from the chair of the cheap motel room, his knees hitting the floor. He bowed his head and took his pain to the throne of his Father, once again begging for forgiveness.
“Are you sure you want me here?” Bella licked her bottom lip.
The moon climbed above the tree line. Stars studded the evening sky with their brilliant glow. October looked to blow out without much fanfare. Already some of the foliage had the start of beautiful orange and yellow.
Hayden twisted the steering wheel cover of the truck. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He gazed out the windshield to his mother’s house and narrowed his eyes. “Guess it’s a good thing Emily isn’t around, huh?”
“Have you heard from her yet?”
“No, and Boyd says he hasn’t heard from her. If Mom doesn’t hear from her by the end of the week, I’m going to put a BOLO out on her.” He laid his head back on the headrest. “I don’t need this right now.”
Bella held her tongue, studying him. She loved him like the brother she never had and would do anything for him. That he was in this situation made her want to scream. That it was primarily her fault he faced this now scratched her conscience. If she could stop this train wreck, she would. But she couldn’t, and that alone had her jumping out of her skin.
“Your folks ever do something that doesn’t make sense?”
Bella swallowed. Hard. “Not that I recall.” She smiled, hoping to lighten the moment. “But that doesn’t mean they didn’t have secrets. Everyone has skeletons in the closet.” And she had a storeroom chock-full.
He grinned, but it didn’t make it all the way to his eyes. He sighed, almost under his breath, and stared back at the house.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” She fisted, flattened, then again fisted her hands in her lap. If she’d been honest with him from the beginning . . . “It was probably a friend of a friend or something.”
“You’re reaching.”
The urge to throttle something—preferably Mr. FBI Hotshot—had her fisting her hands once more. The worry and pain he’d caused Hayden put a black hole in her chest. “More than likely, this is nothing. I wish you’d just drop it.” Oh, how much she wished he’d just let this go.
“I have a feeling about this, Bella.” He grimaced as he yanked the keys from the ignition and spun them on his index finger. “There’s something to it. The FBI doesn’t make trips like this without believing there’s a connection to the case they’re investigating. I wouldn’t.”
“Over a stupid birth announcement?”
“Which a man I’ve never met before kept for thirty-six years. That’s unusual, wouldn’t you say?” Hayden cocked his head and peered at her in the near dark.
She kept her face neutral. “I’m sure you’ve seen stranger things. Who knows why people keep the things they do?”
“For sentimental reasons, that’s why.” He ran a hand down his face. “My birth announcement was found at a crime scene. Come on, you gotta admit it’s odd.”
She shrugged, fighting to look casual. “Maybe it was on a desk and fell off whenever the murderer rushed by. Or maybe it was under an old filing cabinet or something, not even intended to be kept, and this person had just rearranged his furniture before getting murdered. There are a lot of logical explanations.” Please, buy one. Any one.
He tossed her the same look she’d seen Emily give him. “And there are just as many other explanations. The one way to know for certain is to ask Mom.”
Bella lost her appetite. “Ardy probably doesn’t even remember. Some distant acquaintance she sent a birth announcement to so many years ago—you can’t expect her to recall how she even met the man. If she even remembers him at all.”
“Then it’s no big deal, right? If she doesn’t recall this Daniel Tate, then I can tell Agent Baxter I followed up and nothing came of it. Let him know this lead’s a dead end.” He shifted to face her. “I Googled him this afternoon. Bella, he was a federal judge.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Two. Maybe three before her tongue loosened. “So? See, your mom doesn’t know any federal judges.” She forced a laugh. “I can’t see her hanging out with any judge period.”
“Thirty-six years ago, he wasn’t a judge. He was a lawyer. In Little Rock, Arkansas.”
Sweat slicked her palms. “Ardy’s always telling everyone she’s never even left the state of Louisiana.”
“That’s why I have to ask her about him.”
“Even if she does remember, it doesn’t mean anything. We’re talking a long time ago.” She pushed back the panic tightening its viselike grip on her chest.
“Are you implying I’m old?” A faint twinkle of humor lit up his eyes.
She grinned. Maybe if she could tease him into forgetting all about this, he’d let the matter go. “Well, just sayin’ . . .”
“Come on. Let’s get this over with.” Hayden opened the truck door and hopped to the ground.
>
Apparently she had no such luck. She wasn’t going to get out of this. Why hadn’t she run as fast as she could as soon as she’d left the diner?
Because Hayden needed her.
If she still believed God would listen to her—or anyone, for that matter—she’d pray like crazy. But she’d learned her lesson the hard way. God didn’t listen, or He did and just went ahead and did what He wanted regardless.
Bella slammed the truck door behind her and followed Hayden. She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and walk up the cobblestone path, then up the stairs. Leaves crunched under her steps. Every beat of her heart was a nail in her coffin. She’d have to run soon, and the thought shook her to the core.
Ardy met them at the door, welcoming them both in a big hug. Her honey-colored hair was smoothed back into a bun, belying her fifty-something years. She wore a stained apron over a pair of jeans and a tee. “I thought maybe y’all had forgotten how to operate the truck doors.” Her laughter filled the foyer as she shut the door. “Supper will be ready in a bit. Are y’all hungry?”
“I need to talk to you for a second.” Hayden shifted his weight from one foot to the other, keeping his gaze on the floor.
The mouth-watering aroma of baking chicken and tomatoes filled the air, wrapping around Bella and welcoming her.
Bella held her breath.
Ardy froze, the dishrag dangling from her hands. “Emily?”
“No. I haven’t heard anything from her. Have you?”
She shook her head. “No, but I ran errands today, so she could’ve called while I was out.” Hope laced her words.
He gave a quick nod. “If we haven’t heard from her by Friday, I’ll file an official missing persons report.”
Maybe it was time Bella searched for Emily herself. She couldn’t stand to see Ardy and Hayden torn up over this. Finding Emily would be the least she could do for them. She owed them so much more.
She owed Hayden the truth.
“Mom, I need to talk to you about something else.”
“Sure, honey.” Ardy waltzed into the kitchen, her socked feet padding against the floor. “I need to finish the salad.” She hovered over a cutting board littered with tomatoes and reached for a knife.
“Here, let me finish that.” Bella stepped in place, taking the knife and chopping the tomatoes.
“Thanks, sweetie.” Ardy smiled.
Why had she let herself fall in love with this family? Her affection for them had glued her mouth shut, holding all the secrets hostage inside.
She shifted the tomatoes on top of the salad, staring at Hayden as he leaned against the butcher-block counter. His face was drawn. She grabbed a cucumber and sliced.
“Mom, I need to know who Daniel Tate is.”
Chapter Nine
“Everyone is like a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.”
MARK TWAIN
The campaign was in full swing, and according to all reports, he was still in the lead. Had anyone expected anything less? Perhaps his opponent.
Never smart to underestimate a man of his intelligence and caliber.
Using the “smile of the people,” as the state papers had dubbed his grin, he forced himself to shake hands with the preacher man, Reverend Something-Or-Other. He had no personal use for religion—it sure hadn’t helped his mother, nor his brother. But in the political arena . . .
He’d also had to play that angle in the legal game. Draining, to be honest, to act like he had such faith when he could care less. Much like the field of science, the legal industry brought into focus a sharp sting of reality. There was no God . . . no divine being . . . nothing to intervene in issues of law. Everything was either black or white. Yes or no.
Until he’d had enough of legalities and saw a way he could make a difference. Little things could change the outcome of a case. A certain witness. A slight deviation in testimony.
Perception. It was all about perception.
Cameras clicked and bulbs flashed as he shook hands with the man of God. The man’s aftershave was overpowering, almost gagging him. But it was worth it for the photo op. Tomorrow’s paper would run with the photograph, which would increase his numbers with the conservatives of the state. His campaign manager had been begging him to do something like go to church, find religion . . . anything. This was enough. It was the best compromise he could muster.
He’d done nothing but compromise for years. Through college, law school, then at the bottom of the legal-system food chain. Continuing on through the federal system—all compromising his true self. What he wanted to stand for.
But now he was so close to being able to be himself. To stand up for the true victims, not the blood-sucking scum that got off because of technicalities. To right the wrongs that corporations got off scot-free because their attorneys referenced obscure cases that the brainless judges used for legal basis.
It was his time. Time to bring about change.
Time to be about real justice.
Ardy’s face paled until she looked albino. Her eyes widened, almost bugging out of her head. She swayed, then gripped the edge of the counter. Hayden moved for her, but Bella was faster.
Bella wrapped her arm around Ardy’s waist. The look Hayden’s best friend tossed him was nothing short of venomous. She led Mom to the kitchen table and lowered her into a chair before fetching a glass of water.
“Let it go,” Bella hissed as she passed him with a glass on her way back to Mom.
If he had any doubt that Daniel Tate wasn’t someone important in the past, it was gone now. Hayden hated seeing Ardy distressed, but he needed to know the truth. As a sworn officer of the law, he’d do anything he could to help with a murder case.
Even if that meant upsetting his mother.
He slipped onto a chair across the table. “Mom, you know who Daniel Tate is, right?”
She stared at Bella. “You promised you’d never tell him.”
Bella’s face turned red, and she cut her stare to him for a fraction of a second before dropping her eyes to the table. “I didn’t say anything, Ardy.”
His heart froze. Bella knew something but tried to get him to drop the matter? Told him it was no big deal? She wouldn’t even lift her gaze.
“Mom, who is Daniel Tate?”
But she wouldn’t address him. “Bella, if you didn’t say anything . . . ” Confusion cloaked her features.
Bella lifted her face. “Ask him.”
As if he was the bad guy here.
His mother jerked focused on him. “Why do you want to know?”
Heat burned in his gut. “It involves a murder case, Mom.” He scraped a hand over his face. “It’s official, so I need you to tell me everything you know about Daniel Tate.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Now.”
Mom’s face paled. “A murder?”
“Yes. Daniel Tate was murdered.”
Tears pooled in his mother’s eyes. “Daniel’s dead?”
He hadn’t seen his mother this shocked and hurt since . . . well, since his father died. Something icy cold snaked around Hayden’s heart. He leaned forward. “Mom?”
She held up a hand while covering her mouth with the other.
Bella threw him another pointed look.
He met her stare dead-on. What gave her the right? She knew . . . she knew what was going on and failed to tell him. Even after listening to him lament about having to ask his mother. What game was she playing? Bella was the one he shared all his secrets with and she him.
Wasn’t she?
“Mom?”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe Daniel’s dead. And murdered? How? When?”
Empathy flew out the window. “I’m asking the questions here, Mom. Tell me the truth
. Who was Daniel Tate to you?”
The oven timer buzzed. Bella shot out of her seat, snatched hot pads, took the casserole out of the oven, turned the oven off, then returned to her seat beside Mom. While the chicken smelled divine, his stomach knotted his appetite right out of play.
Mom cut a glance at Bella, then took in a shaky breath. “I need to start at the beginning for you to understand.” Her eyes were weighted with . . . remorse? Guilt? Shame? “So bear with me, please.”
Hayden leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, his heart pounding to get out. “I’m listening.”
“When we’re young, we make mistakes.” Mom licked her lips. “Back in my day, we called it stupidity of youth.”
Fitting. Seemed to be what Emily suffered from.
“I’d just turned seventeen when several girlfriends and I decided it’d be a great adventure to go to N’Awlins for Mardi Gras.”
Yeah, he’d done that trip himself. Hayden leaned forward, resting his elbows on the kitchen table. It’d do no good to rush his mother. She’d tell the story in her way, in her own good time.
“I was dating your dad then, of course, and he was none too happy about me going away for a week with just the girls.” Her eyes glazed over as she remembered. “Worried about me like he always did.”
Hayden smiled. Dad had been a worrywart of the worst kind. While annoying a couple of years ago, now it was only endearing.
“Despite his protests, I went anyway. I knew he planned to propose to me on Valentine’s Day and wanted to have one last trip with my friends before I settled down.”
Nothing wrong with that.
“We got to N’Awlins and checked in. One of my friends’ father owned a hotel there, so we were staying in a big suite at no cost to us.” She smiled, staring at nothing out the kitchen window into the dark void of night. “We were walking in high cotton, let me tell you. I’d never seen such a fine room. Had never been in a suite. It was a fantasy.”
Mom paused, pinching her lips together until they turned white around the edges.