by Rena Leith
There. It was out in the open. They wanted my help to persuade Sara to go home. Their weapons were fear and disdain.
“I’m sure it would take some time to close out Alan’s business.” I looked at Sara. “If Sara’s planning to close the store. As for this being a quaint little town, that’s what gives it its cachet, judging by the real estate prices.” I smiled.
Andrea pursed her lips. Sara opened her mouth, but her mother cut her off. “Real estate prices notwithstanding, my daughter is not a shopkeeper. Of course, she’ll come home.”
“My little girl needs rest,” Bob said. “We just want to see that she gets it.” He smiled. “What she needs is a little pampering.”
“Don’t you think she’d be more comfortable in familiar surroundings?”
“What could be more familiar than her own room? She needs taking care of,” Andrea said.
“We’ll all come over to help her, bring her meals, and chat,” I countered.
“We have servants who’ll take care of her every need,” Bob said.
“Yes, but—”
“You simply don’t understand,” said Andrea.
“I understand. I disagree,” I said.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Bob said stiffly.
Andrea picked up her teacup again, and I had the feeling I’d been dismissed. If there was ever going to be a time to get the truth, this was it.
“Excuse me,” I said. “There’s just one thing. Why did you give Holly up and put her in a foster home? Why didn’t you release her for adoption? She would have been desirable as a healthy baby.”
Andrea dropped her saucer, which broke neatly into two halves as it hit the edge of the coffee table.
“I beg your pardon?” Bob said.
“I understand that Mia Jamison is Sara and Alan’s natural daughter—your grandchild. Since they married anyway, I wondered why you gave Sara’s child up and lied to her?” I was only going to get one shot at this, so I decided to go for the gold. “Did you intentionally want to prevent her from being adopted?”
Bob stood. “I was mistaken. You are no friend of Sara’s.”
Again, I was being dismissed. I had an answer from Marcy, but I wanted to hear it from them. He was probably quite angry that I didn’t have the good manners to take the hint and leave.
“It’s because I’m Sara’s friend that I’ve worked so hard to get to the bottom of this. You keep talking about her needs, her safety, her need for pampering, but where were you when she was pregnant? That’s when she needed you. Sara will never be free or happy until she can put together all the pieces of her life.”
Andrea said, “She can do that back home where she belongs.”
“One of the pieces is her child.” I looked at her. “She belongs here with her friends where she’s made a life for herself.”
Bob snorted. “She has no life here. At home she’ll have everything she needs.”
“Her child?” I asked.
Bob’s eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips so hard they turned white. “That ‘child’ isn’t Sara’s. Sara doesn’t know her. Who knows how she was raised? What bad habits she has?”
“You do,” I said. “You picked her foster family.”
Sara took a deep breath. “Daddy—?”
“Sara, your mother and I will handle this.”
Sara wilted. She looked down. Her shoulders drooped. Her spine curved as she slumped.
“You raised one child. Why not another?”
“For that reason,” Andrea said. “We’d already raised one child. It was not easy.”
“Okay, so then you didn’t have to raise her. Sara and Alan would have.”
Bob sighed. “Alan didn’t want a child.”
“You could have fooled me,” I said. “He was only too happy to acknowledge her, support her.”
“She was an adult by then. He told us he had no interest in raising a baby. He worked with us to place the baby.”
He couldn’t even call her by name. “So why did he marry Sara? More to the point, why didn’t you try to prevent it?”
The Petermans exchanged a look. Then Andrea spoke. “He was blackmailing us.”
“Blackmailing you?” Sara shook her head. “Not Alan.”
“How do you think he could afford that store that never made any money? And the boat? And this house?”
“It was all a lie?” Sara said. “My whole life?” Sara’s chin came up, and I liked the spark I saw in her eyes. “Why did you lie to me? Mother? Daddy?”
A little late maybe, but Sara was leaving home.
“Sara, don’t speak to your mother that way.”
Sara turned to her mother. “She’s blonde, too, you know. She bleaches it out to platinum, but she’s a natural blonde. She’s fragile like you, Mother. She has your cheekbones, but she has my eyes although they’re green instead of blue.”
Startled, I thought about Mia’s eyes and then Sara’s. Sara was right. Mia’s eyes were bright and round. I’d never noticed.
“Sara. Dearest.”
“No, Mother. I don’t know if Holly… Mia will even talk to me, but I want to try.”
“Sara, dear, there’s no need. Your daughter’s a grown woman now. She doesn’t need a mother.” Sara’s mother’s voice rose to a shrill note.
“We all need a mother. I needed one who’d look out for me, tell me the truth, stand by me no matter what, and help me learn to survive on my own.”
At least her mother had the good grace to blush.
“Sara, everything we did, we did for you so that you could finally be happy. Alan could never have made you happy,” her father said.
“How do you know what would make me happy? You’ve never asked me.” Sara was a little slow to process, but I saw the horror spreading across her face. “Daddy?” She stood up. “What else did you do?”
Bob’s face hardened, but her mother broke down. “We had a lovely talk with your old roommate. Your life was being ruined by that man. Marcy was happy to help with our little problem.”
“I forbid this.” Bob bellowed at them both. “Not another word until we’ve spoken to our lawyer.”
I took two steps backward. They’d orchestrated Alan’s murder. The adrenaline turned my blood to ice and I was profoundly grateful that George was outside. I didn’t care how mad he was at me. Bob put a hand on Andrea’s shoulder, and she sat up straighter and composed herself.
Sara looked back and forth between them. “You always told me that I had disrupted your lives. I always felt in the way. Why didn’t you just leave me alone with my baby? All I wanted were parents who would love me, who would let me know that I was important to them. I intend to do that for my daughter—if she’ll let me.”
“Let’s go ask her,” I said, standing up.
Sara’s smile was brilliant.
“Sara,” her father said. “I forbid it.”
“Goodbye, Daddy.”
I drove Sara’s car to Ricardo’s apartment near Clouston College. Sara was shaking so badly that, had she driven, we’d have been killed. I caught sight of George in the review mirror as he tailed us.
“Sara,” I said as I pulled into a visitor’s spot and turned off the engine, “Before we go up, it occurs to me that those things in Alan’s safe might be mementos of Mia’s childhood. We know now that Alan was aware of her, so maybe he’d kept tabs on her for her whole life. Don’t hate him for that. But you have her now.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Cass. I feel as though I’ve missed so much.”
“Look at it this way; you didn’t have to deal with the terrible twos or the middle school years.”
Sara gave a watery laugh.
“C’mon. Let’s get you started on building new memories with your daughter.” We walked up to the second floor, and I knocked on the door.
Ricardo answered but only opened the door a crack. Then he caught sight of Sara and opened the door.
“Hi, Ricardo. We’ve come to talk to you and Mia.”
Before he could say anything, I heard running feet and someone wrenched the door from his hand.
“Come in.”
“Sara’s parents just confessed to putting her child in private fostering. Given that you’ve already had a DNA test with Alan, I suspect very strongly that you’re that child although Sara should have a DNA test to make sure. You should know that they took her child away from Sara at birth and arranged for private foster care. They told Sara that you, Holly, her baby, had died at birth. They lied to her.”
Sara edged around me and entered the room, walking toward Mia. “Your name is Holly. Did you know that? I picked out your name months before you were born.” She walked closer to Mia, who hesitated. “I used to play classical music to you before you were born. I wanted you to be so smart.”
“Ricardo, Mia only got half of the information off the Internet because only Alan’s name was on the private fostering paperwork. They bought him off originally, Sara’s parents. Sara never knew. But then Alan blackmailed them. It’s why Alan always had so much money and did so well in a low-margin business like book sales,” I said.
Sara started to talk again but had to clear her throat before continuing. “Mia, they drugged me. They told me you were born dead. They wouldn’t let me see you. They had a funeral. They gave me your ashes to scatter.”
The horror of Sara’s last statement registered on Mia’s face. “A-ashes? They gave you m-my ashes? That’s so cruel.” She stared at Sara as though she’d never seen her before. “Are you really my mom?”
“You’re my baby. I’m sure of it. I don’t need a test.” Sara took the final step that closed the distance between them and put her arms around Mia. “My baby.”
They both started crying.
“Baby, my baby,” she repeated. “I never even saw you.” Sara clung to her as if she’d never let her go.
Mia sobbed into Sara’s shoulder. “I thought there was no way to find you since my f-father died.”
“Sshh, Sweetheart. Everything will be okay now. You can come live with me. Would you like that?”
Mia cried harder.
“Wow,” said Ricardo.
“Funny how that word sums it up,” I said. “Will you guys be all right tonight? I’ve got to get home.”
Sara gave me a sodden smile. “If Mia wants, she can move in right now.” She turned to her. “Any room you want.”
“Thanks. I’d like that.” Mia smiled.
I handed Ricardo Sara’s car keys and opened the door to leave. “Sara, what will you and Mia do now?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to talk…like a family.” She smiled. “Whatever we do, we’ll make the decision together.”
****
I walked out to the street. George pulled up. I got in.
George pulled away from the curb and drove to my house in silence.
When we got there, I said quietly, “Will you please come in?”
He still looked grim, but he turned off the engine and followed me in. Jack and Gillian were fixing food in the kitchen. Jack took one look at George and poured him two fingers of Glenfiddich.
“What happened?” Jack said.
“We dropped Sara off at Ricardo’s. She and Mia are getting to know one another,” I said.
Jack shook his head. “That’s good, but it’s not what I meant. At Sara’s what happened?”
“Her parents are not exactly sympathetic people. They really should never have had a child much less a grandchild. Mia is pretty remarkable given the circumstances. What are you making?” I said.
“Didn’t you just have tea or something with the parents?” Jack asked.
“Not really. I never got to eat anything.” I eyed his sandwich.
With a sigh, Jack passed me his ham and cheese.
“Thanks!” I took a huge bite and closed my eyes. “Mmm.”
“Lemonade?” Gillian handed me a glass. “Anything for you, George?”
“Any roast beef?”
Jack handed him a beer. “Sure.”
I opened my eyes. “Sorry George, about the whole evening. We learned a lot.”
“Hmph. No evidence.” He took a bite out of his sandwich.
“I appreciated the protection,” I said.
“It’s my job.” But George’s voice was a bit less harsh, and the muscles around his mouth relaxed.
“When I first moved here, I thought Marcy was the only sane person in town. Everyone kept talking about ghosts except her.”
Jack said, “She had the calm, no-nonsense certainty that one always associates with heroes. We naturally turned to her in crisis. She seemed to know what was going on.”
“That’s because she orchestrated most of it,” George said.
“I still don’t understand. Sorry, but these were her friends, people she’d been doing business with for years.” I carried my plate and glass to the table. “Let’s sit down if we’re all going to eat. There are some leftover beans in the fridge.”
Gillian got them out and microwaved them. George sat next to me. I bumped his shoulder with mine.
He shook his head. “You are a major pain in the ass.”
“I know, but you care about me, anyway.”
He shook his head again, but he was smiling. “You might as well tell us what you found out.”
I put my sandwich down, swallowed, and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Alan couldn’t tell Sara that Mia was their daughter because it would reveal his complicity in the scheme, not because he’d had an extramarital affair but because he’d colluded with her parents and then blackmailed them. And Brendan!”
“Yeah. Brendan doesn’t realize how close he came to being framed for murder.” George shook his head. “Brendan may be a scholar and a writer, but he should definitely give up on breaking and entering. Not his best skill set.”
I smiled. “Poor guy. I think he enjoyed skulking around. Hey, it all turned out in the end. We got his web site up and running and they decided not to press charges against him. He’s very repentant.”
But George shook his head. “Howland is dead, Mia was in danger, you were frightened half to death, and Samantha was badly beaten. We know who the bad guys are but the evidence is a web of circumstance and hearsay.”
I knew what he meant.
“She gets that look, too,” Gillian said.
“Huh?” I said.
Gillian was staring at me. “You get that look that Jack gets.”
“Genetics,” George said.
“Don’t tell me I look like my sister!”
But I was thinking. Something was still bothering me.
George’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me.” He walked out to the kitchen to get some privacy.
George walked back in a few minutes later. “You don’t. I’m going to have to go in a few minutes.”
“Another murder?” Jack asked.
“The same one. We asked Sara’s parents to come in for an interview concerning their relationship with Alan since they were in town. They’ve lawyered up.”
“They said that Marcy helped them with their little problem. I got the impression that they talked to her about getting rid of their blackmailer.”
“Thanks for the information. We’ll look for proof of blackmail.” George walked to the door, and I followed him.
Neither Jack nor Gillian followed us out. We didn’t say anything until we’d reached his car.
“George—”
He cut me off with a big hug. “It was great seeing you again. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you.”
A big lump formed in my throat, and I couldn’t speak.
“We live in the same town now.” He patted me on the back and let go.
“What was that?” I said indignantly.
“What?”
“You patted me on the back.”
“Yeah?”
“You dismissed me.”
He laughed. “No, no. I would never dismiss you, Cass. I know better.” Then he bent
and kissed me on the end of my nose.
“That was romantic,” I said sarcastically.
“I was going for sweet.”
I grabbed him by the lapels. He didn’t put up any resistance as I pulled him toward me and kissed him. A real kiss. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair as we explored each other.
“I really have to go, and I can’t look as though I’ve been making out in the back of a car.” But he kissed me again and only reluctantly let me go.
I took an unsteady step backwards when he released me.
He grinned as he got in his car and drove away.
I stood in my driveway until his taillights disappeared. Then I turned and sniffed the ocean breeze. I’d been a fool all those years ago. This time I wasn’t letting go.
I smiled as I walked slowly back to the house. I was growing to love evenings on the coast. Summer nights the fog is soft gray kitten fur. Summer nights I would enjoy walking with George on the beach.
Thor greeted me at the door and followed me silently as I walked around the house, bolting the doors and windows and turning on the exterior security lights.
Jack and Gillian were clearing up the dishes.
“Nice to see George again,” Jack said.
“Mmm hmm.”
They excused themselves and went to bed early. I suspected they were as tired as I was. They’d leave tomorrow, and I still felt guilty over keeping them so long, but I was so glad they’d been here. Plopping down on the couch, I let out my breath in a rush and then breathed in deeply. My head fell back against the couch cushions, and I shut my eyes. I felt a tentative paw on my leg, so I half-opened one eye.
Thor was slowly climbing into my lap.
I didn’t want to move suddenly and scare him, so I waited until he was almost settled. Then I petted him and told him what a pretty boy he was. He purred, and I rolled him over on his back and stroked his belly. His purring grew louder, and his eyes started to close.
“Thanks, Thor, and when you’ve had enough of this, I think a little tuna juice is in order.”
As Thor fell asleep, I reached over to the folder of notes for Alan’s book that was sitting on the end table and thumbed through the pages, trying to figure out what was nagging at me.
I looked through all the pictures again, taking care to look at all the details. Then I started in on Alan’s book notes. By the third page, I realized something I hadn’t seen before. It was subtle, but Marcy must have been his main informant. There were notes on strange goings on at the bungalow. He’d made notes on the inside of the cottage and included information about Mary Ann that painted her in a favorable light as an innocent, but that ran counter to the information Doris had given us. I started to skim and stopped myself. I really needed to go over everything carefully.