by T. L. Haddix
“One more thing I want to say to you. Whatever Margie’s reasons for not coming to us all those years ago, or for her not coming forward when she moved back here, they were her reasons and hers alone. She made those decisions, not you, not me. Any responsibility for what happened because of those decisions falls solely on her. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
“I do, and I know you’re right. You can’t help someone if they won’t let you.”
Overhead, they heard Win’s feet hit the floor and move toward the bathroom and then the water begin to run in the shower. Lauren glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly seven-thirty.
“What did Shannon say about arrangements and all that?”
“Ethan gave them Sam Davis’ number, and they were planning to get together this morning to decide what to do.” Molly hesitated. “They arrested Troy last night for Margie’s murder. He’s in jail here in Leroy.”
“Good. That’s where he needs to be.”
“There’s more. They took Carl to the hospital yesterday, and Shannon said they didn’t expect him to make it through the night. Mary Margaret was at the hospital with him, but Troy’s wife, Iris, stayed with Jacob and Emily last night. Apparently, Jacob had just gotten back from the hospital when Ethan got there and told them what was going on.”
“I feel sorry for her. She’s just a kid. How did she take it?”
“Emily told Shannon that she took it surprisingly well,” Molly said. “I imagine she’s in shock. It probably hasn’t hit her yet. In any event, Patricia, Mary Margaret’s sister, was supposed to be heading to the hospital to be with her because none of the kids were willing to be there. I guess she said something hateful to Jacob and ran him off. He was the only one who had even been willing to go over there in the first place.”
Lauren snorted. “I can’t say that surprises me. They’ve pretty much ignored everyone except Troy for the past thirteen years, because no one else was willing to buy into their lies.”
“No, they weren’t,” Molly agreed. “Especially Jacob and Emily, after they brought the girls up here from Georgia.”
For the past thirteen years, Lauren had been uncomfortable with the Vernons. She only interacted with them on a limited basis, like at the annual reunions or with Rob, when he came over to the house when she was married to David. Even though the other children had not approved of Carl’s and Mary Margaret’s behavior, there was a strain on their relationship with the Taylors that made associating awkward. Lauren found it easier to stay away.
Winston entered the kitchen, going to Lauren for a hug. “How’s my girl this morning?” Releasing her, he headed around to Molly to give her a hug and a kiss.
“I’m okay, Daddy.”
He grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet and filled it, inhaling the aroma appreciatively before sitting on a barstool beside Lauren. “You ladies figure out what we’re doing today?”
“Not yet,” Molly told him. “We were just getting to that part when you came in. You’ll be working, I thought.”
Winston nodded. “I’ll probably go in around eight-thirty.”
“I want to call Charity’s attorney this morning,” Lauren told them. “I need to make sure this guy is doing what he’s supposed to be.”
“No offense, honey,” Winston said, “but how are you going to know if he is or not?”
“I won’t, but it will make me feel better, talking to him.” She played with her empty mug, rotating it on the counter. “There are also a couple of personal calls I need to make. Mom, I hate to ask, but can you watch Ava for me this afternoon?” She looked up and saw them both watching her, concerned. “It’s just that there’s this guy Margie and I knew, and he needs to hear about her death from a friend.”
“What guy is this?” Molly asked. “Anyone we know?”
Lauren had turned her gaze to her jeans, picking at a hole on the knee. “Travis Tyler.”
When her parents stayed silent, she risked glancing at them and saw that they were exchanging an unreadable look. With a sigh, she looked back at her jeans and tried to explain. “He was in the shop the other day, and we had coffee. I think he still has unresolved issues with her after all these years, and it’s going to hit him hard when he finds out.”
“You have feelings for this guy, Lauren?” her father asked, his voice carefully neutral.
“Not—not really. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. He was the one who rescued us from that party, and when we talked the other day, we—I don’t know, bonded, I guess.” She sighed. “I just feel like I need to tell him in person, not let him hear it through the grapevine or on the news.” She could tell her father was not happy.
“Just be careful. He has quite a reputation as a ladies’ man. I’d hate to see you get hurt, or hurt someone else,” he said pointedly, “because you and this guy ‘bonded’ over Margie.”
Lauren was shocked. Her father had never been the type to judge people without knowing them. “Daddy, I don’t know what to say.” She looked at her mother, who shrugged.
“I don’t entirely disagree with your father,” she surprised her daughter by saying. “Travis Tyler does have a reputation for being a player. Men like that will use any advantage they have, and if you’re sympathetic to him, well, that’s quite an advantage.”
Lauren slowly stood. “Does this mean you won’t watch Ava for me?”
“No, honey,” her mother said. “You know that’s not what we meant. We just… we’re worried, that’s all.”
“Okay. I need to call him, see if he’s even available this afternoon, so it might be a moot point to begin with,” she said stiffly.
“Why don’t you just leave Ava here, then, and pick her up this evening?” Molly suggested.
“Yeah,” Winston said, breaking his silence. “I’ll leave work around two o’clock, see if Charlie wants to hang out this afternoon, and we can fly some airplanes, maybe go down to the park. Ava likes him. He’s a good man.”
“Win, don’t.” Molly’s voice held a very subtle warning.
“Fine,” he said, a little bit angrily. He gave Lauren a hug. “Call us if you need us, peanut. I’m going to work.” He left the kitchen without a backwards glance.
Molly sighed and took the seat he had vacated. She rubbed her hands over her face.
Lauren felt terrible. “I’m not trying to cause you problems, Mom.”
“I know, honey, but we’re parents. We worry. You should understand this.”
She wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck, resting her head on Molly’s. “I do know. I’m just trying to figure out if I should ask when my curfew is, though.”
Molly laughed, as Lauren had intended. “Midnight, and no later,” she said with a genuine smile. “And no sneaking boys into your room, either.”
Lauren raised an eyebrow. “Not even if it’s Charlie Clark?”
Her mother snorted. “I’ll ask your father about that later.”
“I jumped him yesterday.”
Startled, her mother turned to look at her. “You what?”
“I threw myself at Charlie. Jumped him. Would have had my way with him right there in the kitchen if he hadn’t stopped me.” She sat back down. “I could just die, thinking about it. I don’t know what came over me.”
“But he stopped you?”
She nodded. “Said some things about my state of mind, which were dead on, but it’s still just a teeny bit disappointing. Even knowing that he was right.” Crossing her arms on the island, she rested her head on them and looked sideways at her mother. “If he had been like you all fear Travis is, well. I guess it would have been a disaster.”
Molly’s smile was a little off-center. “I guess our warnings did come across a little strongly.”
When the sound of the toilet flushing reached them, Lauren straightened. “I’d better go check on my chick. And it isn’t that I don’t appreciate your warnings, but Mom, Travis isn’t the one you have to worry about me dropping my drawers with.”
/>
As she left the kitchen, she smiled, the sound of Molly’s laughter following her upstairs.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Lauren’s mood was contemplative later that morning as she drove to Madison. She’d arranged to meet Travis at his office which, he assured her, met her requirements, having privacy as well as being in a public area.
She’d gone home to make the call, wanting privacy, and after getting cleaned up, phoned Molly to let her know where she would be. She gave her mother Travis’s number, just in case they couldn’t reach her on her cell phone.
“Have you heard anything else about Carl?”
“No, not yet. “Do you want me to call you if we hear anything?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll just check back in later.”
The call to the attorney, Sam Davis, had gone well. He was very sympathetic, and seemed genuinely distressed about losing Charity. When Lauren asked about arrangements, he explained that Charity had been very firm in her desires regarding her final arrangements, and given her lack of relationships with her family, had appointed him executor. She had specified that no funeral be held but, Sam told Lauren, that did not preclude her family from having a private ceremony or wake.
“Have you heard from her siblings yet? I’m assuming you’ve heard that the police arrested her brother Troy for her murder?”
Sam assured her that he was aware of the situation, and that he had heard from Jacob. They were all going to meet that afternoon to go over Charity’s estate. “It’s short notice, but is there any chance you’ll be available, Ms. Grant?”
“Is it necessary that I be there today?”
“No, not really,” Davis said. “If you’d prefer, we could meet privately, but I would like to do so as soon as possible.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to be tied up all day today, but I could probably make it over there tomorrow,” Lauren told him. “Would that be okay?”
“That’ll be fine.”
Agreeing on a time, they concluded their call, and before long, Lauren had reached the tree-lined streets leading into the heart of Madison, Indiana. Madison was similar in size to Leroy, both in population and sprawl, and had a historic charm she found inviting. She turned down one of the larger side streets that led to the river, nearly reaching the waterfront before turning into the parking lot.
Tyler Holdings was located in a large renovated warehouse. The front half of the main floor was occupied by a bustling café-style restaurant, with the construction offices apparently occupying the rest of the three-story building. She parked her car in the spot Travis had told her to use and took a minute to gather her composure before getting out. This was not a conversation she ever thought to have, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
As she locked the car door, Travis pulled up and took the parking spot next to hers. Lauren waited, slightly self-conscious, as he got out of the vehicle. She had debated over what to wear, finally settling on a nice pair of dressy jeans and a summer sweater set. She was relieved to see that he was also dressed casually, in jeans and a polo shirt.
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” Lauren told him as he came around the back of the SUV.
“Not a problem. I meant what I said the other day—about calling me. I was glad to hear from you,” he said with a smile. He gestured toward the building. “Shall we?”
She walked ahead of him toward the side door, and as they approached it, he asked if she was hungry.
“Not really, but I could do with something cool to drink. How about you?”
“Something cool does sound good. You like tea?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t we stop downstairs before we go to the office? This café makes an amazing array of iced teas—peach mango, raspberry, or even just plain. We could grab some to take with us.”
“That’d be nice,” Lauren said. They headed to the front of the café past the long patio that graced the front of the building with umbrella-topped tables set along its length. The hostess greeted him by name, and he told her they were only there to grab some tea to go. Taking their order, she promised to return momentarily.
They moved to stand on the edge of the patio while they waited for their order. There was a bit of an awkward silence, and Travis cleared his throat. “How are things going with the cleanup? Did that guy I recommended come through for you?” he asked, leaning against the patio railing.
Lauren smiled. “He did come through, yes. He’s going to have a crew out there to start first thing Friday morning. Thanks again for recommending him.”
“Glad I could help. So have they caught whoever did it?”
Just then the hostess came back with their drinks, which she handed to Travis. He set them down and started to pull out his wallet.
“No charge,” she told him. “Amy says she owes you for last week, so these are on the house.”
“Okay, but I’m still tipping you,” he said, handing her some money.
She smiled and blushed a little. “Thanks, Mr. Tyler.” She tucked the bill into her apron.
With a quick salute, he handed Lauren her tea and gestured for her to precede him. “See you later, Sarah,” he called over his shoulder.
“That was nice,” Lauren said. She was a little surprised at the size of the tip he had given the woman. When he looked at her quizzically, she explained. “Tipping her. It was nice.”
He laughed as he held the door to the office open for her. “Why wouldn’t I tip her?”
“You would be surprised at how many people don’t tip. Especially when they’re just picking up a drink to go, and it’s rarely the amount you gave her if they do tip.”
He shifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Sarah’s working her way through college, and she’s doing it on her own. She’s got a lot of expenses, and she’s a good kid. I like to help her out when I can.” He stopped at the receptionist’s desk and told her they were going to be in a private meeting. “Can you make sure we aren’t disturbed, Jill?”
“Of course, Mr. Tyler.” She smiled at Lauren.
He turned back to Lauren and made a sweeping bow toward the open staircase that dominated the center of the room. “Let’s go upstairs to my office. There’s a balcony where we can sit and watch the river while we talk.”
As they walked through a large open area with desks and drawing boards, Lauren looked around. “You do a lot of commercial construction, don’t you?”
“Yes. We also do property management, development, and a handful of other things. I have a short attention span. People have said I’m ambitious and driven. It’s more that I need a lot of balls in the air to keep me from being bored.”
She laughed. “Well, whatever the reason, it apparently works well for you.”
At the end of the room sat an empty desk, and beyond it, a door, which he unlocked. Ushering her in, he opened the French doors that led out onto the balcony. She walked outside, taking in the view of the river. Over to the side, she could see the end of the café patio. They could see the patrons below but couldn’t easily be seen, thanks to the solid waist-high balcony walls.
“See?” he told her. “I promised you it would be public and private, didn’t I? Have a seat.”
Moving to the comfortable-looking table and chairs, she tossed her purse into an empty chair and sat. Travis adjusted the umbrella so that the sun was off their faces and took a chair adjacent to hers, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“So what’s going on? On the phone you said it was important. Is this something concerning the vandalism?”
“Not directly.” She studied his face, again struck by how blue his eyes were. “Have you heard the news in the past day or so?”
He shook his head. “I just got back last night from Memphis. Why?”
She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “Are you familiar with The Gallery in Leroy? Down by the river?”
“The one that opened up a couple of years ago? I’ve been in ther
e a time or two, yes.”
“What about the woman who owned the gallery, Charity Vaughn. Did you ever meet her?”
“No, she was always out when I was in there. I always talked to her assistant, the skinny little gay guy. Why do you ask?”
“Charity was murdered Monday night.” She hesitated, not wanting to tell him the rest, and looked down at her hands as she continued. “There really is no easy way to say this. Charity was living under an alias. She was really—I can’t believe I’m saying this. She was Margie, Travis. Charity was Margie.” Feeling her throat tighten, she reached for her tea and took a deep swallow.
Travis sat there for a long time, just staring at her, completely still. After a few minutes, he moved to stand at the railing. He stared out across the river, and finally turned back to Lauren, his voice husky with pain. “There’s some mistake. There has to be. Doesn’t there? You told me you didn’t know where she was.” The anger and hurt in his eyes was painful to see.
Tears stung Lauren’s eyes, and she shook her head. “There’s no mistake. She changed her name and her appearance. We didn’t know she was Margie. All these years, and I didn’t know she was right down the street. I’m so, so sorry.”
Travis turned back toward the river and cursed under his breath. “Do they know who did it?” Despite her best efforts to not cry, a few tears escaped. When he heard her sniffle, he went into his office, returning with a box of tissue. He sat down and handed her the box.
Blowing her nose, Lauren slowly started to talk, hiccupping a little. “Sh-she came back three years ago as Charity Vaughn. I didn’t know.” A breath shuddered out of her chest. “Apparently, her brother Troy found out, and he killed her. He’s the one who vandalized the shop, too. They arrested him last night.”
“Her own brother?” he asked. “I remember Troy, barely. He was just a kid when they left here. Geez.”
“Well, he isn’t a kid now.”
He ran a trembling hand down his face. “How bad was it? What did he do to her?”
“I don’t know,” Lauren replied. “I didn’t even think to ask. Given what he did to the shop, I can’t imagine that what he did to her was any less violent.” She swallowed. “In any event, her attorney is in charge of her estate, including arrangements. I have an appointment to meet with him tomorrow.”