by Brenda Novak
“Is he all better?” Heath asked.
A vine snapped as Kennedy’s pruning shears cut through the stem. “The doctors say he’s in remission, which means he’s good for now.”
“Can I feel the baby?” Teddy asked, crawling closer to Grace.
Grace chuckled at his eagerness. He asked almost every day. “The baby’s not moving right now.”
“How big is it getting?”
“She’s probably about four pounds,” Kennedy told him.
Heath gave his father a funny look. “How do you know it’s a she?”
“Just guessing,” Kennedy said without pausing in his work. “Wouldn’t you like a little sister?”
“If she’ll play ball with us,” Heath said.
“Yeah, if she plays sports, I guess that would be okay,” Teddy agreed.
Grace put a hand on her stomach, just as excited as the rest of the family about the child growing inside her.
“It’s taking forever,” Teddy complained, as though the thought of having to wait overwhelmed him.
Kennedy dragged a severed vine to the pile he was creating on the lawn. “You started out that little.”
“And look at you now,” Grace said.
Teddy snuggled closer to her. “I was that little when I was in my other mommy’s tummy?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Lazily, she slipped her fingers through his fine hair, wondering how any woman could be happier than she was at this moment.
“I was eight pounds when I was born,” Heath said, scooting closer.
Grace smiled at her older son, wishing she could capture this lazy moment and hold it inside forever. Teddy and Heath had accepted her so readily, so easily. Half the time, they treated her as though they were afraid to let her out of their sight for fear she might not come back. After what had happened to their mother, she could understand why.
“What about you?” she asked Teddy. “How much did you weigh when you were born?”
He shrugged. “Beats me.”
Kennedy dragged another severed vine to his pile. “Six and a half pounds.”
“There’re some pictures in your baby book,” Grace said. “Shall we ask Daddy to take a break so we can go in and look?”
Teddy immediately sat up. “Sure!”
“I’m almost finished,” Kennedy said.
“I want to see something first,” Heath told her.
Grace watched as her oldest boy leaned up on one arm and studied the sky above them. “What is it?” she asked.
“Do you really think our mom’s looking down on us?”
Closing her eyes, Grace felt the gentle wind on her cheeks. “I do,” she said. “I can’t see her, but if I try real hard I can feel her. Can you?”
“Sometimes,” Heath said.
“Do you think she has wings like that angel I bought?” Teddy asked.
The statue Teddy had wanted now sat in the cemetery in a prominent place near Raelynn’s headstone. “Maybe,” she said. “In any case, I’m sure she’s safe and happy and very pleased with your gift.”
“You really like that statue,” Teddy said. “Don’t you?”
Grace smiled. She liked it, all right. It was elegant. But she valued it more for the fact that it had been a young son’s gift of love to his mother. “It’s one of my favorite things.”
Teddy grinned at her words, and exchanged a glance with Heath.
“What are you up to?” Grace asked.
Teddy smiled shyly. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, but—”
“Don’t give it away—” Kennedy started to say. But it was already too late.
“Me and Teddy are saving up to buy one for you.” Heath’s words came in a rush. “Dad said you could put it in the garden.”
A lump rose in Grace’s throat as they waited for her reaction. Trying to hide the tears welling in her eyes, she pressed a kiss to each boy’s forehead. “What a wonderful gift. Thank you.”
“Are you crying?” Heath asked.
“Happy tears,” she said with a watery smile.
Kennedy stopped working and came over to help her up. “I knew you’d like it. But it was their idea.”
A police car pulled up at the curb, and a small, dark-haired woman got out. “Grace?” she said. “Grace Archer?”
Grace dashed a hand across her wet cheeks. “Yes?”
She met Grace halfway up the walk and pulled her sunglasses low enough that Grace could see a pair of brown eyes fringed with long black lashes. “You used to be Grace Montgomery?”
“Yes.”
She offered her hand. “I’m Allie McCormick.”
Grace felt slightly uncomfortable at the woman’s last name. She’d tried to convince her mother to stop seeing the chief of police—before someone figured out what was going on between them. Irene had promised she would, but Grace was willing to bet they were still sneaking around. Grace knew her mother was hoping Chief McCormick would leave his wife and marry her; Grace hoped just the opposite. As much as she wanted her mother to be happy, she didn’t agree with stealing someone else’s husband. And she knew what might happen if Joe and his family ever got wind of the affair. They’d claim McCormick purposely turned a blind eye to any possible evidence when he searched the farm, which would put them right back under the microscope.
“Are you any relation to Chief McCormick?” she asked, trying not to reveal her sudden unease.
“His daughter. I was a junior when you were a freshman, but I remember you.”
Grace couldn’t place her, but she’d blocked out much about those years. “Nice to meet you.”
Allie looked around at the home Grace had never dreamed she’d own. “The Baumgarter place was always beautiful, but you’ve done a lovely job with it.”
“Thank you.” Grace eyed her badge. “You work with your father, I see.”
Allie smiled. “Fighting crime runs in the family. Until he retired, my grandfather was a detective in Nashville. My uncle’s still a highway patrolman in California. My brother’s a sheriff in Florida.”
Why was Allie McCormick telling her this? Grace felt Kennedy take her hand, knew he was wondering the same thing. “What can we do for you, Officer McCormick?” he asked politely.
She pushed her sunglasses back up to the bridge of her nose. “Seeing that I’m back in town, I thought I’d drop off my card, is all. I’ve been living in the big city, working cold cases for the Chicago Police Department, so—”
“Cold cases?” Grace hoped her voice didn’t sound as tremulous as it felt.
“Yeah, it was a tough job, but I enjoyed it,” she confided. “There’s nothing more satisfying than solving something that’s ten, twenty, even thirty years old.”
“I bet.”
She patted the top of Teddy’s head, who, together with his brother, kept crowding closer to her, obviously fascinated by the gun on her hip “Someone told me you were a prosecutor,” Allie said.
“That’s true.”
“Then I’m guessing it must drive you especially mad not to know what happened to your stepfather.”
“It’s been…difficult,” Kennedy said, trying to help out.
“That’s really why I’m here. I wanted to let you know that I’m going to do what I can to answer that question for you.”
“How nice,” Grace said numbly.
She tucked the dark hair falling from her ponytail behind her ears. “Madeline stopped by the station, asked if I would.”
“So you’re opening the case again?” Kennedy asked.
Grace cringed inwardly.
“Not officially, no. I’m just going to tinker with it a bit, in my off hours.”
“I’m afraid you might be wasting your time, Officer McCormick,” Grace said.
“That’s okay. I’d like to use my skills, you know? And sometimes even small, seemingly unrelated things can help.” She reached into her pocket. “Here’s my number, in case you remember anything new about the night Reverend Barker disappeared.”
/> Grace accepted the card Allie thrust toward her. “It’s been eighteen years. What makes you think I might remember something now?”
“You never know.” Her smile was still friendly enough to make Grace believe she didn’t know about her father and Irene. “Anyway, I can’t resist a good mystery. Can you?”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5353-1
DEAD SILENCE
Copyright © 2006 by Brenda Novak.
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