by Linda Warren
Since time was of the essence, Mike began the paperwork for a court order. He said he’d be in touch.
Alex drove to the address Brodie had given her. The tan, frame house was in an older neighborhood and run down, the paint had peeled off in places and several screens were missing. Kids played in the front yard. On a hunch, she got out and walked over to them. Two girls giggled as they jumped rope on the sidewalk, reciting silly rhymes. A solemn-faced boy bounced a basketball against the house.
She approached the girls. “Is your mother home?”
The older one stopped jumping. “Yeah. What do you want?”
“I’d like to speak with her, please.”
“Mama!” the girl screamed.
The door flew open and an overweight woman in skimpy shorts and a tank top stood there, puffing on a cigarette. “Rayann, how many times have I told you not to…” Her voice trailed off as she saw Alex.
“This lady wants to see you.” Rayann thumbed toward Alex, and went back to jumping.
“Hi. I’m Alex Donovan, private investigator.”
“Really?” The woman took a puff and blew out the smoke. “What are you doing here?”
Alex tried not to cough as the smoke filled up her nasal passages. “I’m working a case for a family who used to live in this house.”
“Oh.” Her eyes became enormous. “Was there a murder here or something?”
“May I come in?”
“Oh, sure. I’m Sueann Sims.”
She followed Sueann into the cluttered living room and her eyes were drawn to the window with worn red drapes. With one hand she slightly edged back the drapes to see the backyard. No gazebo and no paving blocks. Damn. Her job got harder.
“You have a big backyard.”
“That’s why we bought the house, so the kids would have room to play.” Sueann crushed her cigarette in an ashtray and moved laundry from the sofa. “Have a seat.”
Alex kept standing. She didn’t plan to be here that long. “The lady who used to live here said there was a gazebo out back.”
“Nope. Not when we moved here. The house was vacant for a long time and overgrown with weeds. We’re just now getting it back into shape, or at least where we can mow it.”
“The police will be contacting you today or tomorrow. We’ll talk again then.”
“I wish you’d tell me what this is about.”
“The police will explain it.” Alex walked to the door. “Thank you.”
“Sure.”
The girls were still jumping rope. “Gypsy, gypsy please tell me. What my future’s going to be,” the girls chorused.
Without thinking, Alex jumped into the rope with Rayann. “Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief. Tinker, tailor, cowboy, sailor.”
“You’re good.” Rayann grinned.
Alex laughed, jumped out and ran to her Jeep. That felt good and it released a lot of pent-up emotions. She and her friend Patsy spent years practicing a jumping routine. They thought they were cool. It seemed that little girls were still the same.
Inside the Jeep her heart raced. Was there a cowboy in her future? She reached for her cell phone and called Brodie to tell him about the gazebo.
“Damn. I guess it was too much to hope it would still be the same.”
“Forty years is a long time.”
“Is that a knock at my age?”
She smiled and closed her eyes, envisioning his dimple. “No. It’s just fact.”
“Mmm.”
Alex thought it best to stay on business. “Could you get your aunt to draw a map of the backyard as she remembers it? It would make it easier for the detective.”
“Sure. And thanks, Alex, for getting on this so fast.”
“You’re welcome, cowboy. Maybe one day you’ll let me drive your big old truck.”
“It only responds to me.”
“Like your horse?”
“You bet.”
“Cowboys have strange habits.”
“Honey, if you only knew.” She could feel a smile coming through the phone. And the way he said honey made her feel gooey and sweet inside.
“I’m going to click off on that one,” she said. “Let me know when you get the map.”
Her heart raced faster and she realized she was beginning to have strong feelings for Brodie. Just talking to him made her feel young and giddy. Looking at him, well, that sent her senses into a whirligig—big-time.
Was it sexual attraction? Or more?
L ATE THAT AFTERNOON Mike informed her he had gotten the court order. She told him about the gazebo and that Brodie’s aunt was drawing a map. They planned to start digging about ten the next morning. She was amazed at the speed in which Mike was able to get things done. But a forty-year-old cold case didn’t get solved every day.
She called Brodie, but he didn’t answer so she left him a message. Then she headed for the airport to pick up Naddy and Ethel.
With the two offenders finally in the Jeep, she gave them a stern lecture.
“Alex, it was an accident,” Naddy said. “I tucked a dollar in and my ring got caught. I jerked my hand and the damn string came down and his jewels spilled out, so to speak. And the women went crazy. But those were some mighty fine jewels. Don’t you think so, Ethel?”
“Couldn’t take my eyes off ’em.”
“The damages were fifteen hundred dollars, not to mention the fine. This is not a freebie. It’s coming out of your social security.”
“Whatever. A woman can’t even have fun anymore.”
She gave Naddy a sideways glance. “When you damage other people’s property, it’s not fun. It’s a crime.”
“Those crazy women did that. Ethel and me were trying to get out of the way.”
“You caused the scene.” Alex was trying hard to be firm, but she was going to burst out laughing at any moment.
“We had a good time otherwise,” Ethel said from the backseat.
Alex glanced in the rearview mirror at Ethel. “Good. Because I’m wondering how to punish two grandmas.”
Naddy pinched her cheek. “With a smile.”
They dropped Ethel at her daughter’s and it took a few minutes to get her out of the backseat. Alex decided she definitely needed a different car. This vehicle was for a young girl and she had suddenly matured.
On the drive to the house, Naddy asked, “What did you tell Buck?”
“Nothing. I’ll let you tell him.”
Naddy pinched her cheek again. “You’re a shrewd granddaughter.”
“And you’re a helluva grandma.”
Naddy winked at her.
Alex tugged Naddy out of her seat and they went inside. Buck turned from stirring something on the stove. Connie was nowhere in sight.
He placed his hands on his hips, looking at Naddy. “Well, you found your way back.”
“Yep.”
Alex waited for the verbal warfare. There was nothing but absolute silence.
Buck was the first to speak. “I’m making spaghetti for supper. Anybody hungry?”
“Let me put my suitcase in my room and get out of these shoes,” Naddy replied. “My dogs are barking.”
As Naddy left, Alex folded her arms across her chest. “Where’s Connie?”
“At her house, I suppose.”
Alex thought it was time for a father-daughter talk. “Buck…”
“You didn’t tell me Naddy was coming home.”
He cut her off so fast she had whiplash. She realized they might never truly be open with one anot
her. She realized something else, too—Buck still saw her as a little girl. That wouldn’t change until she showed him she was an adult.
“I got the call and I responded. I didn’t have time to let you know. Besides, I didn’t think you cared.”
He sprinkled seasoning into a pot. “It’s always nice to know when a hurricane is coming.”
Buck usually didn’t have a sense of humor, but today he seemed different. Mellow even. So she jumped in with both feet.
“I’m going to start looking for an apartment.”
“Should have done that years ago. Then Naddy wouldn’t cling to you like a leech.”
Not the response she expected, but at least he wasn’t making her feel guilty about leaving.
“I’m worried about Naddy, though.”
He swung around, his gray eyes hooded. “I told you Naddy can take care of herself, and you don’t have to worry about me kicking her out. I won’t.”
“Okay. I’ll start looking.” Maturity in the Donovan house reached a new level. They were working things out. Alex felt excited about the future and being on her own.
For the first time the Donovans had supper together without tense verbal exchanges. Naddy pushed the edge of the envelope when she told Buck what had happened in Vegas.
It surprised Alex that Buck controlled his temper. He got up and carried dishes to the sink.
“Is he ill?” Naddy whispered to Alex.
Buck had heard her. “I’m not ill. It’s time we started living our own lives and I’m through trying to raise you.” He paused. “Alex is moving out.”
“What!” Naddy turned to her, her eyes bright. “Are you moving in with a guy?”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s time I was on my own.”
“Hallelujah. It took you long enough. Ethel and me will visit and give you tips on how to attract the opposite sex.”
“I don’t need any tips. Besides, you and Ethel are grounded.”
“Honeychild, you can’t ground someone older than you.”
Alex lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Well, maybe a little.” Naddy stood with a grin. “Buck, the supper was good. You didn’t learn how to cook from me. Now I better see if my computer’s still working.”
Alex helped Buck with the dishes.
“You weren’t in the office today.” Buck poured the remaining sauce into a container for the refrigerator. “Where were you?”
She leaned against the cabinet. “I was there for a little while. Claudia Hayes passed away last night.”
Buck snapped a lid on the container. “That’s a blow for your cowboy.”
“Yeah. I’m caught in the middle of the Braxtons and Brodie.”
“Get your heart out of the equation and you won’t have a problem.” He opened the refrigerator.
She told him about the other baby.
“Let the police handle it and get yourself back to work,” was his response.
Buck believed in handling everything by the book, where there was no room for emotions.
She gritted her teeth and thought this was a good time to end the evening. Buck’s blood pressure had been stable all night and she had a feeling it was about to explode like a can of Coke that had been left in the freezer.
Naddy was busy at her computer, her open, overflowing suitcase dumped on her bed. Life was back to normal. She trudged upstairs and fell across the bed. Should she let the police take over? She found she couldn’t do that. Brodie had asked for her help and there was no way she’d let him down.
F IRST THING the next morning she called Brodie. It seemed so natural to talk to him before starting her day. They arranged to meet at Cleo’s old house. Detective Crane and two of his guys were already there and had apprised the Simses of the situation the night before. Sueann took the children to her mother’s, but she was soon back.
Brodie gave the detective the map Cleo had drawn. They stayed in the house while the police did their search. Sueann and her husband Ray sat staring at them. No one spoke.
“You look familiar,” Ray said to Brodie. “I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Brodie replied.
“Brodie Hayes.” Ray slapped his hand against his leg. “You’re a bull rider. I’ve seen you ride.”
Brodie’s lips tightened. “That was years ago.”
“Yeah, but you were one helluva bull rider.”
“Thank you.”
The stilted words sent Ray a message. Brodie didn’t want to talk. Luckily the man received it loud and clear.
There was complete silence as they waited. Sueann offered them something to drink, but they refused. The burial had been so long ago Alex had her doubts about finding anything.
Mike finally came through the back door. Alex reached for Brodie’s hand and he gripped it like a vise.
“Did you find anything?” Alex asked.
“It took a while, but we finally located the stones buried under the grass. And we located the remains wrapped in a blanket under the second stone.” He held up a plastic bag. “You might be interested in this.” Inside the bag was a tiny hospital identification band, parts of it still readable. It said, Braxton Baby Boy and there was a date, but it wasn’t clear.
“She switched the bands,” Brodie whispered.
“Looks like it,” Mike agreed. “We’re taking the remains to the lab.”
“I’d…” Brodie swallowed visibly. “I’d like to have his remains buried with his mother.”
Mike inclined his head. “Sure. After I get the paperwork done and get it cleared.”
“You’re not gonna leave my yard like that, are you?” Ray stared at his dug-up yard.
“No, Mr. Sims,” Mike replied. “We’ll put everything back just like it was.”
“Good.” Mr. Sims scratched his head. “Go figure. A baby buried in our backyard. Ain’t that something.”
“Who is this Braxton person?” Sueann asked.
“Someone who’s been missing for a long time,” Mike answered.
“Wow. Is it gonna be in the paper?”
“It’s police business, Mrs. Sims, and I’d appreciate your discretion.”
“Oh, sure.”
Alex and Brodie walked to their vehicles in silence.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked.
“It was just like she said.”
“Yes. Claudia didn’t lie to you.”
He looked off to the bright Texas sky. “I feel like I’m in someone else’s dream, but I’m in someone else’s life—for real. It’s no dream.”
“It’s your life.”
“We’ll see.” He turned toward his truck.
“Brodie…”
“I’m fine, Alex.”
B RODIE DROVE to his mother’s house. He now had one goal and he wasn’t sure why it was so important to him.
“Brodie,” Cleo said, anxious to see him. “What did they find?”
“The baby was buried there just like Mother said.”
“Oh my God. How awful.”
“Forensics has the remains now and they’ll soon release it for burial.”
As he walked toward the kitchen he saw a man he assumed was Melvin sitting at the table. Cleo introduced him and Brodie shook his hand.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” Melvin said.
“Thanks.” He looked at Cleo. “Where did Mother keep all my baby stuff? I know she had a lot of it.”
“I believe it’s in that armoire in her bedroom. Why…?”
Brodie headed for the bedroom and opened the big double doors. A couple of boxes and several albums were in the bottom drawer. He carried everything to the bed. The albums chronicled his life from his birth to his college days. He looked closely at the photo of Claudia holding a baby in the hospital, then at the one of Tom holding his son in Germany. The babies looked the same.
He finally opened the box and went though his baby mementos, then he saw what he was looking for—his ID bracelet from the hospital. Hayes Baby Boy . This had to be buried with the baby who’d been dug up today. It belonged to him.
Staring at the albums on the bed, he felt that knot in his stomach again. The photos showed Brodie Hayes’s life. But who was Brodie Hayes?
Chapter Twelve
The answer still eluded him as he drove home. Brodie was so bone-tired he didn’t have enough strength left to face anything. He needed time alone to absorb what had happened in the last two days.
He had the urge to call Alex just to hear her voice. She was fun, exciting and she made him smile. Even when he was dealing with the worst pain of his life she had the ability to bring him down to earth with her red Popsicle tongue, her eccentric grandmother and her views on his truck.
The fact that she was in the enemy camp, as he thought of the Braxton family, kept him from picking up his cell phone. He felt, though, she was on his side, too. A thought from his pain-induced mind, he was sure. But he’d never met anyone like Alex Donovan before.
He spotted two trucks at his house and he recognized them immediately—Colter and Tripp. His friends met him halfway and they embraced, then walked together into the house.
“Marisa and Camila sent food. It’s in the refrigerator,” Tripp said.
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
“How about a beer?” Colter asked.
“Can always use a beer.”
“Good.” Tripp headed for the refrigerator.
“Not one ‘I’m sorry’ outta you guys,” Brodie warned. “I heard too many in the last couple of days.”
Tripp set beer on the table. “What can we do?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing anyone can do.”