“We’ll see about that,” Brent began. “More like the secret was his addiction to a swinging lifestyle. Flynn shortened the investigative process considerably. He held the key to how Douglas hooked up with a woman named Felicia Atherton. That relationship started everything spiraling downward.”
“Wait a minute,” Hannah said. “You said Atherton? You’re sure that’s the name of the woman? Maybe this Flynn got it wrong.”
“Nope,” Brent said. “Felicia Atherton is her name.”
Hannah exchanged looks with Caleb. “It can’t be a coincidence that my mother’s maiden name was Atherton. Laura Atherton Lambert.”
Kinsey looked over at Quentin. “That explains the odd line in Mr. Bradford’s will. He mentioned Felicia Atherton by name. He specifically spelled it out that she was not to get a dime from his estate. His exact words were ‘absolutely nothing’ even if she fights to get it. While we were working on the wording, Mr. Bradford became very emotional during that part. Otherwise, it was a straightforward document, simple even. After probate, I paid the final expenses, paid for his funeral and burial, and got in touch with his one surviving relative. I waited for this Atherton woman to show up to contest that part of the will. But she never did. Instead, Quentin came to town and I did all the paperwork to turn that old canning factory over to Quentin. And I’ve never given another thought to the name until right this minute.”
Quentin fidgeted in his chair. “To be honest, it bugged me that he didn’t leave the house to me.”
Kinsey leaned back in her chair, at ease with a theory. “After doing some rethinking about that day, something occurred to me. I don’t think Mr. Bradford wanted to burden you with the house. Thinking back to the day we drew up the will, I don’t think Mr. Bradford wanted you near the house because of what was buried in the yard. Hindsight, as they say. If he left it to you, you might want to renovate it, which is exactly what you did. Revamp the ugly yard. Digging up that yard is what revealed his ugly past. The only reason Logan snapped it up at all was because he thought the location would make a great place for a library. If you hadn’t come along, who knows how long it would’ve sat there without anyone unearthing those bones.”
No longer able to sit still, Hannah stood up and started to pace back and forth. “I’ve been working on locating Micah for years. And I’ve researched the family tree on both sides of my family in detail. I don’t remember a Felicia among them. Maybe she isn’t a relative at all.”
Brent slipped his hands in his pockets. “I wish it were that simple. I do. But Felicia changed her name when she left home to strike out for Hollywood, hoping for a modeling career.” He took out a photograph from his file folder and handed it off to Hannah. “This is what Felicia looked like back then. The police report that day mentions her description as the social worker who took custody of Micah, claiming she was headed to the hospital. You can see the resemblance.”
Hannah stared at the picture. “She looks like my mother.”
Caleb peered over her shoulder. “You look a lot like her, same hair coloring, same eyes.”
“Let’s hope I don’t have her whacked out mentality.”
Brent held up his file folder. “There’s more, a lot more in here. I stayed up until three this morning writing a report, trying to hit every detail. Felicia’s birth name was Aurora Francis Atherton, your mother’s older sister by five years.”
Caleb’s eyes settled on Brent. “So, Hannah’s own aunt, this Felicia, killed her sister and brother-in-law for the sole purpose of getting a baby?”
“Aurora had problems early on, as early as sixteen. She wanted out of Turlock. She didn’t much like her name so she changed it once she got to Los Angeles. There are a few neighbors left on the street where Laura and Aurora grew up. I talked to them and they all said the same thing. Aurora was always jealous of her little sister, jealous of Laura’s marriage, the fact she had children, and what Aurora deemed was a stable relationship.”
“But…I still…don’t understand why my aunt would do such a thing,” Hannah bemoaned. “Why did she have to kill them? What could she possibly have wanted with Micah?”
Brent repeated Flynn’s account of what happened between Douglas and Felicia. “I’m afraid everything Flynn said checked out. Stanislaus County sheriff’s deputies got a full confession from Felicia. Using Flynn’s backstory, it all came together. It seems your mother’s sister had done all she could to trap Douglas into marriage. She thought it was her one shot at the big time, marrying the mayor.”
Brent lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure how Felicia came by that notion, but she did spend quite a while on the ploy, almost a year. That included getting pregnant. The only deviation in what Flynn told me was about how the baby died. Felicia claimed to investigators not three days ago that once she brought the child home from the hospital there was something wrong with it and it stopped breathing on its own.”
“And what did Flynn say happened?”
“That Douglas thought she deliberately did something to the baby once it came home from the hospital. The autopsy backs that statement up.”
“Did Felicia ever refer to the baby as anything other than it,” Hannah asked. “Because you’ve used that several times. The repeated use of the word shows a callous disconnect.”
“I think that’s an accurate assessment. Even after all these years Felicia appeared to show no special grief that she’d lost her little girl so soon after giving birth, at least outwardly. Hannah Justine was the name listed on the birth certificate.”
Hannah’s hand flew to her mouth. “She named the baby after me? Why on earth would she do that?”
“According to the psychologist I spoke with, it showed Felicia’s mindset at the time. She had to be thinking about her sister and her sister’s family even as she picked out a name. Once the child died, it seems Felicia and Douglas buried the baby in the front yard for no other purpose than to get rid of it. Discreetly, making sure it disappeared without anyone suspecting the child had ever existed. My cop radar goes on alert anytime someone gets rid of a child without a proper burial.”
“Didn’t anyone miss the baby? What about all those old-timers around here?” Caleb asked. “Someone had to know Felicia had been pregnant. Flynn knew.”
“Those are all excellent points,” Brent said. “My gut tells me Flynn wasn’t the only one in town who knew about the baby’s birth. If they didn’t report the child missing that’s on them and they’ll have to live with that for the rest of their days.”
“Do you think Felicia did it alone?” Hannah wanted to know.
“They both had a hand in the death. I’m convinced of that. Coroner confirmed there were several broken bones to the arms, a fracture to the skull. That indicates abuse right from the start. The death meant Douglas could get rid of Felicia, get his carefree lifestyle back.”
“Oh, my God,” Hannah stated, beginning to fully understand.
“Unfortunately for Hannah and her family, Felicia had other ideas. She decided she needed a substitute for Justine and she needed it quick. The only baby she knew anything about was her nephew, Micah. That day, she knew exactly where to find him. She got in the car, drove to Turlock and demanded your mother hand over Micah. Your mother resisted, of course. But Felicia wasn’t there to take no for an answer. She took out a gun, the 9-millimeter registered to Douglas, and shot your parents with it. The neighbors called the cops before she could get Micah out of his crib and…”
Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “It’s just like you said. Felicia ran out of the house without Micah when the first cruiser pulled up. But she came back for him by pretending to be the social worker and the police just handed him over.”
“I’m sorry,” Brent said. “But during her interrogation, Felicia readily admitted to all of it. She led the detectives through how she killed your mother and father, shot them point blank, and then devised the plan to come back for Micah. She did all of it because she believed the only
way Douglas would ever marry her was if she had a child. The psychologist was certain she’d probably suffered from some type of psychosis after giving birth that made her act so irrationally and so violently.”
Quentin wasn’t buying it. “Let’s not bandy that word around like it excuses this woman for quite a bit of preparation and planning. I doubt psychosis played a part in the ploy to get pregnant in the first place.”
“For what it’s worth, I agree with you,” Brent stated.
“But Douglas and Felicia don’t even keep Micah,” Hannah pointed out. “It’s all for nothing. My parents died for nothing.”
“I’m sorry,” Brent repeated. “When Felicia showed up with another baby, that was the last straw for Douglas. He sent her packing. In truth, to a mental health facility in the Central Valley. Fortunately for him, he knew of a couple who’d been trying to have a baby or adopt without success right here at home.”
Hannah let out a sigh. “The DeMarcos.”
“You got it. They took Micah in after Douglas made a show of ‘performing’ an official adoption.”
“That was a nice trick and totally illegal,” Hannah grumbled, glancing at Quentin. She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think I like your uncle very much.”
“I’m beginning to feel the same way. Please tell me this Felicia is sitting in jail right about now?”
Brent stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I was standing there when they slapped the cuffs on her and loaded her up in the van.”
“Will the authorities at least change the murder/suicide angle and let my dad off the hook now?” Hannah asked.
“Absolutely,” Brent promised. “Felicia wouldn’t be in jail if they hadn’t done that already.”
“No one contacted me. I guess the victims’ family is the last one to know anything. Well, I don’t know what to do,” Hannah admitted, throwing her arms out wide. “How do I tell Andy about this whole mess, about his real family? How much they loved and cared for him? I just listened to this insane explanation of why it all happened and I’m still not sure I understand why. If I don’t understand it, how will he feel about all of it?”
“We have to help you,” Sydney offered. “That’s the only solution. We have to bring Andy along slowly and plant the idea—”
“I disagree about the slow part,” Caleb stated. “I say, rip off the Band-Aid and just be honest with him. He’s a man, not a kid. You’re underestimating the guy. For two years, he’s taken care of his little sister like a parent, done what had to be done to see she didn’t get carted off to foster care. He deserves to know the truth. If he finds out that practically the entire town was in on deceiving him, he won’t be happy about it.”
“I agree with Caleb,” Cooper said. “And not just because he’s my brother but because he’s making sense. Honesty should be expected out of family members. Tip-toeing around the truth won’t change what happened.”
Even Quentin weighed in. “After getting to know Andy, he’s not a kid. This man carries around the responsibility of taking care of his kid sister unlike anyone I’ve ever seen. You’re doing him an injustice if you don’t level with him about how he came to be Andy.”
“Okay, then. It’s settled. We go with the truth. Now, the question is, who goes through with the lengthy explanation.”
Thirty
Of course, the likely candidate had to be Hannah. The dirty job fell to her because that’s what big sisters did—they took care of little brothers even if the chore proved difficult. The only problem that she could see with that idea was the fact Andy wasn’t used to having an older sibling. He was the older sibling, had been all his life as a DeMarco. Where Faye was concerned, Andy had become the consummate big brother, protector, champion.
But that didn’t mean Hannah could shirk what she now viewed as her obligation.
Hannah dragged her feet about approaching Andy until the DNA came back. But the Friday afternoon Eastlyn showed up at her front door with the piece of paper showing proof, there was no more stalling.
“Did you ask him to dog sit Molly like you planned?”
Hannah cut her eyes to the dog. “Yep. I feel guilty using an innocent animal as a ruse, but it set the whole thing in motion. He’s due here in a couple of minutes. I feel like chewing off my nails.”
“Don’t. It’s a bad habit and one that’s hard to break. Ask me. I know. Stop pacing,” Eastlyn decreed when she saw Hannah nervously walking back and forth into the kitchen.
“Maybe I should’ve done this at Caleb’s place. I wish he’d get here. I texted him a couple of times to remind him that Andy’s due any minute. Caleb was supposed to be here with me when I made the big reveal. I’ll have to tell Andy I don’t really need dog sitting services today. That it was just an excuse to get him here.”
She blew out a nervous breath. “Who am I kidding? I can’t do this. Maybe I’ll just send him an email and explain the whole sordid mess.”
“Buck up, soldier,” Eastlyn ordered as she saw a shadow outside cross in front of the window. “Here he comes. Oh. Sorry, looks like it’s only Caleb.”
“Gee, thanks. I like you, too,” Caleb said as he strode in carrying a six pack of beer and a bottle of whiskey. “I wasn’t sure what kind of liquid courage you preferred. Beer’s always good for a nice sociable chat while the bourbon might dull the sensory overload.”
He took one look at a nervous Hannah and yanked her to his chest, pressing his lips to hers in a long, much-needed kiss. “There. Better?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know anymore.”
“I’m outta here,” Eastlyn stated.
“No. Stay. Please,” Hannah pleaded.
“Sorry, you’re on your own. I’ll be…outside…sitting in my car with the report Brent wrote up if you should need backup, though. That’s the best I can do.”
As Eastlyn sailed out the front door, Andy appeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on?” Andy asked. “Ryder told me I should knock off work early and come over to your house, said you had a dog sitting emergency. I don’t even know what that means.”
“Me either,” Hannah said with a grin.
“Quentin and Sydney even offered to watch Faye for the rest of the evening. So why am I here?”
Hannah took a deep breath and held it for a long second and then let it out. She steadied herself and reached for Caleb’s hand for support. “We need…I need to talk to you about…why I’m here in town…why I moved here four months ago.”
“Are you getting ready to take Faye away from me or something? Does this have anything to do with that social worker? Because I have a lawyer on speed dial now.”
His fierce determination and loyalty to Faye made Hannah smile. “No. No. It’s nothing like that. Faye’s fine. Call her if you want, if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Then I don’t understand why I’m standing in your living room. I saw you at Quentin’s place the other day, but I don’t really know you. Other than, Faye mentioning you might need someone to watch your dog.” Andy studied Hannah’s grip on Caleb’s hand and then he looked over at Molly. The dog seemed to understand there was a problem and came over to lick the fingers on his hand. “But this isn’t about the dog, is it?”
“No. It’s about you and me. It’s about the fact that I’m really your sister. Hannah Lambert from Turlock. We were born there to a couple named Robert and Laura Lambert.”
Once she got started, the words came pouring out like water overflowing a dam, rushing out so fast like a flash flood shooting down a dry canyon. Nothing could stop the momentum.
Andy’s face began to take on an understanding. “So that’s the reason Ryder asked me all those questions on Saturday?”
“Yes. Sorry. I needed to know if you had any inkling you were adopted.”
“Some. A few hints over the years. There were a lot of hushed conversations whenever I’d come into the room. I just thought it was…you know…adults acting secretive, keeping things from the ki
ds. Now and then, though, there’d be something that came up with my birth certificate and the issue always made things stressful between my parents. They’d argue for a while and then run around like crazy to solve the problem. But the strangest thing I guess was the fact that my mother never went into a detailed account about the day I was born. She’d describe the day Faye came into the world, point by point, what her labor was like, how long it lasted, how much Faye weighed, that sort of thing. But with me, not a word. She didn’t even try to make up a story. I found that odd.” He lifted a shoulder. “You know, little things like that, things that never seemed to add up like they did with Faye. I just assumed Faye was their favorite.”
Hannah went over and picked up a frame that held a picture of their parents. “Here’s a photograph of our mom and dad the day they were married. Look close. You have the same eyes, the same nose, the same chin as our father.”
Andy studied the image from so long ago. The color had started to fade. But the resemblance was unmistakable. It was like looking at himself in a mirror. He plopped down onto the little love seat.
Before he could dispute the photograph, Hannah shoved another one into his hands. This one was of her at six, sitting on Santa’s lap holding a baby wearing a red stocking cap. “This is you and me, kid, taken at Christmastime at the mall.”
Andy glanced back and forth from one photo to the other. “I see the similarities. It’s amazing. You’re actually, for real, no joke, my sister?”
“No joke,” Hannah stated as she handed him the piece of paper Eastlyn had brought. “This is from the lab. It’s a DNA analysis. I put mine in the system a long time ago, hoping this day would eventually get here. Yours came from a soda can Ryder pilfered out of the trash after you left work the other day. We’re brother and sister, and science agrees.”
“You’ve been looking for me?”
“Oh, honey, I’ve been looking for you so long I can’t believe we’re here in the same room talking to each other like this, having this conversation. I want so much to hug you. But I don’t want you to freak out.”
Beneath Winter Sand Page 29