by V. K. Powell
“Was your husband from the Windsor area?” Leigh asked.
“Yes, but he was a foster child and had no real family. We’d never talked about that with Jack, for several reasons.” She took Jack’s hand. “If I’d had any idea he was coming here, I would’ve hogtied him to a bedpost or something. What if Francisco had a contract on me and found out I had a son? I couldn’t bear it.”
“And what about your parents?” Susan asked.
“The feds met me and Brewster at an old warehouse that night, heard our stories, and agreed to his terms. Then they took me home and explained the story to my parents. It was like we’d been dropped into some suspense-thriller. The feds explained I would have to disappear and, if my parents wanted to see me again, they’d have to do the same.
“The federal agents directed the local investigation, under the guise of cooperation, and made my disappearance look like a missing person. I stayed in a shabby hotel in Charlotte for two weeks, unable to call anyone or go out in public. Do you have any idea how difficult that is for a teenager? When the police department closed the case, my parents and I were relocated. The marshals said it would seem logical for a grieving family to move away after the loss of a child. But things didn’t go as smoothly as they’d hoped. We ended up moving three times—first to Albuquerque, then Chicago, and finally Windsor, Colorado. But to answer your question, Susan, my parents died shortly after the last move, victims of a still-unsolved home invasion.”
“Jess, I’m so sorry. How alone you must’ve felt,” Macy said.
“Why so many moves?” Leigh raised her hand like a kid in class. “Wait. Let me guess. Someone was leaking your location to Francisco’s people.”
“Exactly. After my parents died, I was alone, scared, and ready to run when I met Steven Temple. He was a local builder working on our house. We became friends…and you know the rest.”
Leigh was shaking her head. “Not exactly.” Macy could see her mental wheels turning. “If my calculations are right…” She looked at Jack, then Jesse, and back down to her notepad. “Never mind.”
“It’s okay, Detective,” Jesse said. “Jack now knows Steven wasn’t his biological father. And you’re right, I was pregnant when I left Greensboro, but it didn’t bother Steven. He was quite a special man…and I loved him dearly.” Jesse glanced at her, and Macy could almost see the guilt she’d carried all these years—the same burden she’d carried but for completely different reasons.
“It’s all right, Jess,” she said. “I’m just glad you had someone and that you’re here now.”
Leigh stood and folded her notepad. “This is quite a fantastic story, Mrs. Temple-slash-Chance-slash-Quinn, but I’m not sure I’m buying it. Why would the marshals still be interested in you after all these years? Did you eventually testify?”
“Yes. Brewster and I had to appear in closed session. Francisco’s family threatened both of us. And the marshals have been getting information about threats against me for the past several years, but I refused to move again. Jack was a kid. We had friends in Windsor. Then about a week before Jack left, the marshals arrested a man outside our home. He had my name in his wallet, along with a picture. Francisco’s youngest son had apparently taken up the mantle to avenge his father.”
Pam, who’d been particularly quiet, asked the question everyone must’ve had. “If the marshals thought you were in danger from a threat that originated in Greensboro, why wouldn’t they have taken Jack home immediately? They had to have known where he was when Leigh and Nate started making inquiries about his father.”
“That’s what I want to know. If they used my son for bait, I’ll—”
“They wouldn’t do that,” Macy said, looking to Leigh for confirmation.
“If this story of yours is true, there’ll be documentation. I intend to find it,” Leigh said.
“I hope you do. I want to put this nightmare behind me,” Jesse said. “I’d really like to come back to Greensboro again, but only if I’m certain Jack and I will be safe. In the meantime, can you release my son? We’ll need to find somewhere to stay until you clear this up.”
“You’ll stay with me,” Macy said. She started toward Leigh, intending to set a time when they could talk about their situation, but Leigh turned to Pam.
“Can you handle the paperwork? I need to get to the station. We’ll talk later.” Before Macy or Pam had an opportunity to say anything, Leigh was gone.
*
Leigh rushed from her mother’s condo, desperate to breathe fresh air and see anything except Macy and Jesse making goo-goo eyes at each other. Her chest ached, and her eyes stung from holding back tears. Jesse was back and she was Macy’s first love. Marriage to a man didn’t necessarily erase Jesse’s feelings for Macy. And the love Macy had carried for Jesse all these years was still painfully obvious. Her world had collapsed and Macy’s nightmare had ended when Karla Temple turned into Jesse Quinn.
Feelings swirled inside her like a blender—her feelings for Macy, Susan’s revelations, the whole Jesse Quinn story—how could she make sense of it? She was in love with Macy, but that was probably irrelevant now. She wanted to believe her mother but wasn’t sure she ever could. Jesse’s story was too strange not to be true, and so much of it made sense in the context of what she already knew about her case. Jesse’s scenario would explain the apparent holes in the investigation and the feds’ stonewalling. She needed to stay focused on the case, stifle her emotions, and let Macy and Jesse get on with their interrupted life.
She dialed Captain Howard’s private mobile. “Captain, I need to see you ASAP.”
“I’ll be in the office in five minutes.”
When she walked in, Howard closed her office door and did something she hadn’t done since Leigh made detective. She hugged her, long and close. “Are you all right? You look completely shattered.”
She couldn’t speak. She was crying and there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. “Can’t breathe.” She clung to Anita. “She’s alive. Oh, God, what am I going to do?”
Anita guided her to the sofa and eased her down. “It’s okay. Just let it out.” Anita handed her tissues, and she cried until she couldn’t breathe through her nose and her mouth was dry.
So much for staying focused on the case. “I’m sorry, Captain.” She’d never broken down in front of her boss, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings any longer.
“Right now I’m your friend. We’ll sit right here as long as you want.”
“But…you have work—”
“Barbara knows not to interrupt us. What happened, Leigh? Is it Macy?”
“How do you know about Macy?”
“She came to see me yesterday, demanding I tell her where you were. Quite a feisty one, isn’t she?”
“Yeah.” She sniffled again and tried to smile.
“And…she told me she’s in love with you.”
“She said that?” Anita nodded, and Leigh’s eyes filled with tears again. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Jesse Quinn is alive, and Macy has been in love with her since they were kids.”
“What? Jesse Quinn, alive? How?”
Between pauses to wipe her eyes and blow her nose, Leigh told Anita the entire complex story Jesse had relayed earlier. “So, whatever Macy and I had is over.”
“Did she say that?”
Leigh shook her head.
“Did you even talk to Macy after all this came out?”
“No. She was too busy inviting Jesse and Jack to live with her. The inference was clear. I didn’t need a signed declaration of no interest.”
“Sometimes you can be as thick as Nathan Shaver about women, and that’s not a good thing. Talk to her, Leigh, before it’s too late.”
“It already is. Can we get back to the case, please? I need to keep busy.”
Anita hugged her again and then gave her some space. “Sure. What’s your assessment of Jesse’s story?”
“I’m not sure I believe it, but if we want the fact
s, we’ll have to ruffle some feathers.”
“We’ve waited too long to learn the truth about this case, Leigh. I’m not above causing a few waves. Some pompous asses think they can scare us off. They’re wrong. Let’s show them what we’re made of, shall we?”
Anita called the Marshals Service. “I need to speak with the chief marshal for the district, please. Tell him it’s about Jesse Quinn.” Two sentences. A few seconds later, she’d been connected, and five minutes after that, she’d provided enough details to ensure a meeting that afternoon. When she hung up she turned back to Leigh. “You’re welcome to be here. It’s because of you that we finally know the truth.”
Leigh considered the offer. “I don’t think so, Captain. I’ve done my job and the rest is bureaucratic red tape, which is your department. No disrespect intended. I’d like to know the level of present danger to Jesse and Jack, and I think they should be informed. She wants to come back…home.” The last word hung in her throat. “Will you let me know and see that she’s notified as well?”
“Of course I will. Where are you going?”
“I’m at Pam’s for a while, until I find something more permanent.”
“You should still talk with Macy. Don’t assume anything. You’ll regret it.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” As she made her way to her car and drove back to Pam’s, she decided just the opposite. She didn’t want to think about her situation with Macy. Jesse had always been the priority in Macy’s life and would certainly be now that she’d returned.
Chapter Twenty
“Jesus, house hunting and pregnancy just don’t mix. My feet are the size of watermelons.” Hedy dropped her purse on her kitchen counter and plopped onto the banquette, propping her feet on a side chair. “Fetch me some water, slave.”
“Yes, master.” Leigh poured them both a glass and sat across from her sister. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you do this. My homelessness isn’t your problem.” She’d been at Pam’s for a week with no word from Macy and had finally decided to look for a house.
“Hey, pregnant women need exercise, and besides, who else would I trust to help you find the perfect home?”
“Perfect is relative, isn’t it?” To her perfect included the woman she loved, which wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon, if ever again.
“Have you heard from her?”
“No, and I don’t expect to. She’s got what she wants.” She’d said the same thing to herself every day, but hearing it aloud made it more real and more painful. Macy’s silent treatment made her feel unimportant and practically invisible, much worse than not being a priority. “Let’s not talk about that, please.”
Hedy held up her hands in resignation. “Doesn’t make it go away, any more than avoiding conversations about Susan did for all those years.” Her sister had managed to spend four hours with her without mentioning their mother. The reprieve had to end. “Was dinner the other night so awful?”
“No, not really.” Surprisingly, Leigh meant it. Hedy had prepared a nice meal and she, Bo, and Leigh had socialized with Susan for an entire evening without relapsing into a family drama. Her hurt feelings had begun to ease, dulled by several talks with Susan and outings with Hedy and Bo. She had flashes of childhood memories, but for the most part, she regarded her mother as a stranger she was just getting to know. Interesting how a pending birth could change things.
“I guess Susan told you about the money. That would’ve come up at some point.” The surprise on her face must’ve been clear. “Or not. Leave it to me to step in it.”
“What money?” Leigh asked.
“Never mind. What about the houses today, anything?”
“That’s not going to work, Hedy. Tell me.”
“Susan will kill me. I promised not to say anything.” She gave Hedy her you-can’t-hide-anything-from-me look she’d used so successfully when they were children. “Oh, okay. The money we both got when we turned twenty-one came from Susan.”
“How?”
“She paid for dad’s burial on an installment plan and put the insurance money from his death into savings for us. Every year she’d add a bit more. She instructed an attorney to handle your part because she knew you wouldn’t accept money from her, regardless of the circumstances. She gave me my share personally and explained everything.”
“Your house?”
“Yep. That little windfall allowed me and Bo to buy this gorgeous love nest.”
She’d bought her first house the same way. She replayed the memory of the day she’d gone to the attorney’s office to collect her inheritance. She’d thought it odd she and Hedy would get sizeable amounts of money when their family had lived so close to the poverty line. She never imagined Susan had anything to do with her financial security. She’d seen her mother as a fiery, man-crazy redhead when she’d actually been just a mother desperate to protect and provide for her daughters—the same burning passion with completely different motives. Leigh’s prejudices and hard feelings had formed easily but were proving difficult to let go of. She owed Susan more than one apology.
“So…” Hedy was waving her hands in front of her face.
“What, sorry.”
“Did you see anything you liked today?”
“The little ranch in Sunset Hills was nice, though expensive.”
Hedy nodded. “Yeah, but are you sure you want a house and yard to maintain with your work schedule? Wouldn’t a condo or townhouse suit your lifestyle better? The one in Fisher Park was amazing, but no garage. I know you want one.”
“I need a yard and a driveway so I can show my niece how to throw a ball and ride a bike. I’m not sure about a condo, maybe—” Her mobile rang and she dug into her back pocket. “Hello?”
“Leigh, it’s Macy.”
Leigh’s face grew hot and her mouth dried. “Macy…”
“I was wondering if we could talk. I know it’s been awhile, but we need to.”
“I don’t really think that’s necessary. You’ve made it—ouch.” Hedy kicked her under the table, nodded like one of those bobble-headed dog toys, and mouthed talk to her.
“Please.” Macy’s pleading whisper tumbled through her like a mini tornado kicking up feelings she’d tried to bury.
“When and where?” Jeez, she sounded like a lapdog, eager to please her owner.
“Could you come here? Whenever you’re available. We’d have privacy. I know it’s a long drive, but I’d really appreciate it.”
“What about Jesse and Jack?”
“They’re not here.”
Did that mean not there right now or not there as in no longer living with her? The questions she’d tried to suppress resurfaced, and the deep pain returned. Did she need to hear Macy say she wasn’t the one? She’d repeated those words until they were branded into her mind. Macy had chosen Jesse. End of story. But she heard herself say, “How about two?”
“Great. Thank you.”
When she hung up, Hedy pumped the air with her fist. “Fantastic. She reached out, so don’t throw it back in her face. Let her talk and listen with your heart. You’re good at that.”
“I’m not sure I can anymore.”
Hedy leaned toward her. “Of course you can. You’ve always had a capacity for compassion and love, and right now it’s more important than ever. You’re clearing the air with Susan, and nothing’s keeping you from having the life you want. Don’t miss the chance because of pride, ego, or even a little pain. Promise me you’ll be open.”
Miracles were all around her—Hedy was having a baby, she and Susan were actually talking again, and she’d be going back to work—maybe she did have a chance with Macy. “I promise I’ll try. That’s the best I can do.”
*
Macy hung her latest painting, the one Leigh had inspired the day they drove around Belews Lake, over her fireplace. The twenty-by-twenty-four-inch canvas was covered with vibrant acrylic colors, and when she looked at it, she saw Leigh in its vitality and
effervescence. New, smaller paintings hung on opposing walls, and the cottage was beginning to feel like an art gallery, her gallery. She’d called a gallerist friend of her parents, shown her portfolio, and was thrilled that the Ambleside Gallery had agreed to show her work. Only Leigh’s absence diminished the excitement of her first public offering.
When she heard Leigh’s vehicle pull into the driveway, she stripped off her painting coat and hung it on the hook by the studio. She brushed at imaginary lint on her black jeans as she walked toward the front door. She’d been this nervous when Leigh came to rent the apartment, but then she was afraid Leigh would stay. Now she was afraid she wouldn’t. She had no idea what to say. For once in her life, she intended to go with her gut and speak from the heart. As she opened the door, she prayed that approach worked a miracle, because she’d need one.
She couldn’t speak for several seconds when she saw Leigh standing on her stoop. She’d lost a few pounds, but her copper hair and emerald eyes were just as captivating as ever. This time a rusty nail was the furthest thing from her mind. Leigh looked like the woman she’d been waiting for all her life, her answer to a soul mate. “Thank you so much for coming.”
Leigh nodded but passed silently into the room and dropped her jacket by the sofa. The familiar gesture that used to seem untidy now felt endearing, and she left it on the floor. “I know you’re probably upset, hurt, and more than a little confused.”
“Yes, I am.”
The pain in Leigh’s eyes stabbed at her, making it difficult to speak. “You…want to sit?”
“You’ve changed the place.” She stood in the center of the room and turned in a circle, just like she’d done the first time she’d seen the cottage. “You rearranged the furniture and took down the dark curtains. Nice.” Though her words were complimentary she delivered them in a tone devoid of emotion.