by Adrianne Lee
Barbara stepped back. Then forward again, fearful the woman would run off. She barely restrained the urge to grasp her arm again. “Ritzy, I have to speak to you. My name is Barbara. I used to know you from the shelter.”
Ritzy shuddered. “The shelter burned. Fire-man burned the shelter.”
Barbara realized it was pure insanity to think this woman would remember her. The person she’d been five years ago held no resemblance to the one standing here. Maybe she wouldn’t even recall her constant companion. But she had to ask. “Ritzy, do you remember Saucy Sue?”
“Don’t touch Ritzy. The fire-man tried to touch Ritzy. But Ritzy is too quick for him.”
Chad appeared at her side. “What’s going on?”
“Chad, this is Ritzy.”
“Saucy Sue’s buddy?”
Barbara nodded. “I asked her about Sue, but she doesn’t seem to understand.”
He glanced at the woman. “Ritzy, my name is Chad.”
Ritzy lifted her pale blue eyes, then grinned at him, showing a surprising set of perfect teeth, yellowed from lack of hygiene, but even and straight. “You think Ritzy’s beautiful?”
“Yes, Ritzy.” Chad grinned and nervously rubbed his crooked pinkie finger. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
Barbara stepped back. Something about Chad had caught the woman’s interest, as that same something had caught hers. Ritzy was as taken with him as Barbara was. Maybe he could get something coherent out of her. Barbara nodded for him to go ahead and ask questions.
He leaned toward her. “Do you remember Saucy Sue?”
The woman tilted her head, a coquettish expression on her filthy face and in her eyes. “Saucy’s not as beautiful as Ritzy.”
“No, she’s not.”
“Sue knows you.” Ritzy tipped her head back and forth and began chanting in a singsong voice. “You know Sue and Sue knows you.”
“Saucy Sue is dead, Ritzy,” Chad said softly.
“Sue knows you and you know Sue,” she sang again. “Sue’s dead. Sue’s dead. Marshmallows, marshmallows, gonna roast some marshmallows. The fire-man can’t touch Ritzy. Ritzy’s too quick for him.”
Chad and Barbara exchanged a hopeful glance at the mention of marshmallows, but none of his further efforts at conversation elicited more from Ritzy than her odd little song. He shook his head at Barbara.
Barbara sighed, and fell into step beside him. “I thought we had something when she mentioned marshmallows. You know, that weird song she was singing was the same little ditty she sang when Marshall was examining Saucy Sue, the night before she died. The night she called him ‘Marshmallow.’ But I’m afraid she’s more disoriented than she was five years ago—talking about Sue and the fire as if they both happened yesterday.”
“Let’s go see if Bonze has those photographs.” Chad also wanted to talk to Vic.
As they climbed into his car, Chad’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his briefcase. “Ryker, here.”
“Son, thank God.”
“Dad?” The strain in Tom Ryker’s voice alarmed Chad. “What’s wrong?”
“Billy Bonze called. He’s been trying to track you down. He said he overheard Vic Lansing talking to Dr. Emerson this morning and he gathered from the conversation that Emerson is bringing the police here soon to pick up Missy.”
“Dear God. Try and hold them off until we get there.”
Barbara’s face turned the color of snow as he told her what was happening.
“Can he do that?” Her voice was shaky. “Just take her?”
Chad nodded unhappily. “The attorney I consulted on your behalf last night told me this might happen and that Marshall was within his rights.”
“Oh, Chad.” She felt as if her heart were being wrenched from her chest. “We have to get to your parents’ house ahead of Marshall. Somehow, I have to explain this to her.”
“I’ll even risk a ticket for Missy.”
He started the engine and drove onto the freeway, weaving through traffic on the floating bridge at dangerous speeds that seemed too slow to Barbara. The ride was the longest she’d ever taken. There were no police cars parked in front of Tom and Lynn Ryker’s house when they pulled up, but they weren’t sure what that meant. They hurried up the walk. Barbara’s stomach churned with dread.
As the door opened she heard a screech of tires and glanced back at the road. Two police cars pulled to the curb. Chad sent her into the house as he turned toward the new arrivals and watched Marshall Emerson emerge from the back of the lead vehicle.
Inside, Barbara dragged Missy to a bedroom and began telling her what was happening. Calming her fears.
Wishing she could calm her own fears.
She pulled the locket from around her neck and placed it around Missy’s neck. “I want you to have this. So you can look at the pictures inside anytime you want.” She showed her how to work the catch.
A knock sounded on the door, and Lynn stepped in. “The doctor wants to speak to you, Barbara.”
Barbara’s nerves twisted tighter. She glanced at Missy, then at Chad’s stepmother.
Lynn seemed to read her mind. “Go ahead. I’ll stay with Missy.”
Barbara dug deep into herself and dredged up the courage to face Marshall with her shoulders squared and her head held high. She was determined he wouldn’t see her buckle. He was in the living room with Tom and Chad. She could see the police officers on the sidewalk outside.
She shifted her attention to her former brother-in-law. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Marshall grinned at her with all the warmth of a reptile. Hostility oozed from him like a foul odor. “When I leave here with my daughter in a few minutes, you will not see her again. Ever. If you don’t abide by this, I’ll have you prosecuted for custodial interference.”
As the color drained from Barbara’s cheeks, white-hot anger shot through Chad. “This isn’t over, Emerson—not by a long shot.”
“Oh, yes, it is.” Marshall smiled like someone about to reveal a nasty secret. “And for your part in this—well, let’s say, my friend Vic is in need of a new investigative reporter.”
Chad stiffened. Unbeknown to Vic Lansing, he’d already decided he would be submitting his resignation. “I’m challenging your right to Missy.”
Marshall laughed nastily. “I have her birth certificate right here. This document is all the claim on her I need.”
Chad’s gut twisted. He glanced at Barbara, wishing he’d found the right moment to tell her this. If only there was some other way. But his choices had just run out. “Missy isn’t your daughter, Emerson. She’s mine.”
Chapter Sixteen
Chad’s announcement had the effect of an exploded bomb, startling everyone to sheer, wide-eyed silence. Barbara gaped at him as if she’d never seen him before. His father frowned, confusion and disbelief controlling his features.
An unhealthy red crawled up Marshall’s neck. “What the hell are you saying?”
“Six years ago, Kayleen and I were lovers.” Chad stared at Barbara, silently pleading for her understanding. But his heart sank, weighed down with the pain and betrayal he saw in her glorious eyes. Unable to bear her hurt, he shifted toward Emerson, all the anger inside him issuing from his hard gaze. “I fathered Missy.”
Bright spots of color stood out on the doctor’s face. “That’s preposterous.”
But it seemed to Chad that Marshall wasn’t nearly as sure as he sounded. Good. His uncertainty could buy them the time they needed to prove he was a murderer. “I don’t need to tell you that a DNA test will settle the matter.”
“Legally, Melissa is my child.” Marshall shook the birth certificate at him. “I don’t have to submit to any blood tests or subject my daughter to them, either.”
“Even if I sue you for custody of her?”
Marshall’s green eyes narrowed. “Bring the child to me now. We’re leaving.”
“Please, Marshall, we’ll need to make arrangements for her clothing and toys.” Barbara step
ped toward him. The icy fury in his eyes sent her back a step.
He pointed a finger at her. “I’ll buy my daughter toys and clothes. I don’t care what you do with those rags you’ve furnished her with—burn them, give them to charity.”
Marshall strode to the door and called a police officer inside and minutes later, he was ready to leave with Missy.
Tears dampened the little girl’s lashes. “Mommy, will you come and see me at my daddy’s house today? And bring me Mr. Bear. I left him at Chad’s house.”
Barbara inhaled a shaky breath and glanced questioningly at Marshall. “She sleeps with the bear.”
Marshall huffed impatiently. “I suppose.”
She gave him a grateful smile, then squatted beside Missy. “We’ll be by later, after you’ve had a chance to get settled, but before bedtime. Now, kiss me goodbye.”
Missy clung to her, weeping. Barbara hugged her back, then swallowed hard and pulled the little girl’s arms from around her neck, kissed her cheek, and held Missy’s hand toward Marshall’s. Her heart cracked into a million pieces.
“At long last, Melissa, we’re going home.” Marshall led his daughter out of the house.
Barbara stood at the window, hugging herself, holding back tears, watching the cars pull away. She sniffled once, swiped at her eyes once.
Chad had never felt more helpless, more of a cad.
“Is it true, son?” His father’s voice broke the tense silence. “Is that beautiful little girl my granddaughter?”
Barbara turned toward Chad, the same question bold in her eyes. She looked as though a rock wall had fallen on her. Chad knew he was responsible for some of the stones. He resisted the urge to go to her, to pull her into his arms, to kiss away the pain, to reassure her. Right now, he doubted she would ever want him to touch her again. The realization grated his heart to shreds. But he understood and would respect the unspoken request.
Feeling his parents’ eyes on his back, he lurched around. “The chances of that are a million to one. I always use protection. Always.”
“Then you did have.an affair with Dr. Emerson’s wife?” His stepmother’s words weren’t judgmental. Lynn seemed only to be trying to understand.
“Not an affair. One week. She and Emerson were separated. I thought she was filing for divorce. And I thought I’d found my true love. I wanted Kayleen to be your daughter-in-law.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Barbara asked, her voice so low he almost hadn’t heard her.
Lynn caught Tom by the arm. “I could use your help in the kitchen.”
Chad stood staring at Barbara, saying nothing until his parents left the room. “I tried to tell you the other night, but you. I.” He trailed off. What excuse did he have? Nothing that would change the fact that he hadn’t told her. “I regret more than you know that you learned of it like this.”
“So do I.” Barbara realized the emotion dominating her at the moment was pure anger. She clung to it for strength. “Why didn’t Kayleen leave Marshall for you?”
“She didn’t love me.” Bitterness edged his words, and Barbara realized with an unpleasant jolt that her sister had been the woman in Chad’s life after his mother, who’d destroyed what little remaining trust he’d had in the feminine sex. Her heart ached for him. And for herself.
If this weren’t so personally devastating, she would laugh at the irony of Kayleen reaching out from the grave to punish her for stealing Missy. “And then Kayleen committed the ultimate sin in your eyes. She ran away with her child.”
“Put like that, it sounds petty.” He laughed, a miserable sound that rang with self-deprecation. “But, yes, that’s about the size of it.”
“And now you’ve challenged Marshall’s paternity. Why?”
“To throw him off our investigation into Saucy Sue’s death.” Chad didn’t mention how desperate he was to find that proof. Without it, Barbara faced an array of charges, a possible jail sentence. He would go down fighting to prevent that. “I wanted to occupy Emerson’s mind with other matters. Plus, I couldn’t let his right to Missy go unchallenged. I think she’s better off with you.”
Barbara didn’t know whether to hate him or love him. Too much hurt layered her heart. She couldn’t dwell on it, either. Not right now. But if she didn’t do something, she would collapse with grief. “Do you think your assistant has those photographs yet?”
“I’ll check my messages and call him, but first I want Adam de Wolfe to draw up papers and serve them on Marshall for custody of Missy.”
“Won’t that take days?”
“Normally, but if there’s some way to speed up the process, de Wolfe will know it.”
One of the messages was from Edie. Barbara dialed her beeper. Edie phoned minutes later. Barbara took the call in the master bedroom. She sat on the upholstered chair next to the bed. Absently glancing about the room, noting that like the rest of the house, this area was also done in shades of pink and mauve with heavy splashes of gray blue. Like Chad’s eyes.
“Barbara?” Edie sounded as if she was speaking from her car phone—likely on her way to the hospital.
“The worst has happened.” Barbara took a bracing breath and struggled to keep her voice even. “Marshall has Missy and wants me out of her life forever.”
Edie gasped. “Then we’ll just have to take her back.”
“He’s threatened me with prosecution if I try.”
“That no-good—” Edie blew out a heavy breath. “He can’t get away with that, can he?”
“Probably. I’d chance it, though, if I were the only one at risk. But I can’t drag you any further into this mess.”
A derisive laugh spilled along the line. “Marshall J. Emerson doesn’t scare me. Hypocrites like him are all bark. It’s my bite he should fear.”
Brave words, Barbara thought, smiling. “I’m angry, too, Edie. Don’t worry. Chad and I aren’t about to be counted out yet. We’re checking into something that may well land Marshall in jail for life.”
“That would be too good for him.”
“I agree. But it would go a long way toward my getting Missy back. Permanently. Legally.”
“Then I’ll wish you and Chad the best of luck. And if I can help in any way, let me know.”
Barbara promised she would and hung up, then sat there staring at the phone. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, tightened her throat. She’d put on a brave facade for Edie—more courageous than she felt. In reality, she was near collapse. But what good would self-pity do? What good would it do Missy?
She shook herself and shoved out of the chair. No matter the outcome of this, Barbara realized she had to keep her emotions together. It was the only way she could go on. And she had to go on.
For Missy’s sake.
Chad peeked his head into the room. His smile was easy, assured. Her heart tripped a beat faster.
He said, “Good news. Adam is going to try and have the papers ready around six o’clock today. He says we should plan our visit to Missy accordingly—so that the papers can be served on Marshall around the time we’re leaving.”
Chapter Seventeen
If Billy Bonze were any thinner, in Barbara’s estimation, the storm brewing outside would blow him away. He seemed wound tight, with the energy of three people, and smelled strongly of the hair oil slathered over his wavy black mop. His best feature was his hazel eyes, round and thick-lashed, accentuated by plain-rimmed glasses.
He set a beige folder on Chad’s kitchen counter. “There were only two stories about Suzanne Emerson that carried accompanying photos.”
He opened a file folder and spread the copied pages out. The photographs were black-and-white and had lost some of their clarity in the photocopying process. Barbara leaned over them, taking in the full-faced, healthy teenager depicted there. Suzanne Emerson looked young, about sixteen—the age Barbara had been when her father was killed—but according to the article she was actually three years older at the time of her disappearance.
/> Chad moved close to her, close enough to touch her, but he refrained from doing so, kept the distance that seemed to widen between them by the minute. His minty breath grazed her cheek. “Is that Saucy Sue?”
She glanced at him. The tiny lines at the corners of his eyes had gained depth and length since this afternoon. She resisted the urge to touch them, to soothe away the tension that held his handsome features captive. “There is something familiar about the woman.”
But Barbara realized it might be nothing more than her resemblance to the Emerson clan. She closed her eyes, conjuring Saucy Sue’s image. The face that had so readily filled her nightmares seemed elusive now, hard to distinguish from a dozen others, as faded and unclear as a Polaroid left out in the sun.
A beeper went off, startling Barbara. Her eyes snapped open.
“It’s me,” Bonze said, yanking his pager from inside his pants pocket. He frowned as he read it. “It’s the paper. Can I use the phone in your office?”
Chad laughed. “Help yourself, but I wouldn’t tell Vic where you are if you want to keep your job.”
“We need to talk about that later.” Bonze pointed his finger at Chad as if it were a pretend gun, then left the kitchen.
Chad turned back to Barbara, his guard up, his feelings hidden. His smile was polite, as if they were newly introduced. Strangers. She wondered if he’d purposely not told her about Kayleen and him so that he could use the old relationship as an excuse to end whatever it was that had been happening between herself and him.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Is it her?”
Glad for any diversion from this heartache, she again glanced at the photocopies. “I thought I’d be able to tell instantly. But this is really difficult. If Saucy Sue was Suzanne Emerson, her face had aged beyond her years. I wish I could say positively, but I can’t.”
“Damn.” Chad rubbed his crooked pinkie finger.
Bonze hurried into the kitchen. “I have to get to police headquarters. There’s some new lead on the shelter fire.”
Barbara felt an immediate rush of adrenaline.
“What?” Excitement stood out in Chad’s eyes.