“She said she had sons. Two sons.”
“You must have just misheard her.”
“No. She was very clear. And I’ve been thinking about it since she said it. You know she was married before me, right?”
“Sure. To Ed Hardsten. Josh’s biological father.” He tensed, and she smoothed her hand over his arm. “Josh always felt you were his father, Tom. Always. You gave him his name. You gave him your love. And he loved you, very much.”
“Thank you, Aubrey. Though I guess it doesn’t matter now. No, Daisy was married briefly before Ed Hardsten. To a soldier who died while he was on assignment. Very top secret stuff. She never talked about him; she only mentioned him once, before we got married. She didn’t want to go into our wedding day with lies between us. But she wouldn’t tell me much about him.”
“Do you know his name?”
“No. It was years earlier, when she was just a kid. It pained her to speak of it, so I never pushed her.”
And that was why Daisy had married Tom in the first place. Security and love, no questions asked.
Tom continued, “But what if she had a child with him and didn’t tell me? Or had a miscarriage or something? She always held something of herself back from me. Could this be it?”
“Does she have any papers or anything from that time?”
“I’m sure she does. I don’t go into her desk.”
Of course you don’t. “Do you want me to?”
He looked torn for a minute. Then the most decisive look she’d ever seen from him crossed his careworn face. “Yes. Yes, I do, Aubrey, if you’re willing. I know Daisy hasn’t been much of a mother-in-law to you. I understand if you’d rather stay out of this. But if there’s something there, and she wakes up, maybe we can put her mind at ease. She was so upset, so disturbed. You should have seen her. It was horrible.”
He started to cry again and Aubrey shushed him, patting him on the back like she would a small child.
Children, rather. The idea that Daisy had more than one child freaked her out. But for Tom, and for Josh, who might actually be out there somewhere, she’d go digging.
A nurse who had just hung up the phone came around the desk to them. “Mr. Hamilton? They’re going to take her into surgery, sir. She’s crashing again, they don’t want to wait any longer.”
“Go, Tom. I’ll handle things out here.”
“Thank you, Aubrey. I love you.”
The words blew her away. Very few people had ever told her they loved her. Her parents, when they were alive. Josh. Meghan. And now Tom.
“I love you, too.” And she meant it.
CHAPTER 43
It was cresting six and the sun was fighting its way into the sky, reluctant but inevitably persistent. Aubrey left the hospital and went directly to Meghan’s house. She hadn’t decided yet whether to tell her about the photo. For some reason, she felt like she needed to keep it to herself. But she’d make that call if it came up.
Sons. Daisy said she had two sons.
Meghan lived in an A-frame in Sylvan Park, and Aubrey knew she was a morning person. Sure enough, when she rolled up to her house, Meghan was outside on the front porch in a robe and slippers, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book. She parked, and Meghan waved at her with a smile.
“What up, buttercup? You’re moving bright and early today. But you look like crap. Don’t you sleep?”
“Rarely, it seems. I need your help,” Aubrey said.
“With what? I’m still looking into Derek Allen. I asked Daniel to pull everything he could find on him. We’re meeting later this morning to talk about it. You have another problem, sugar?”
“Daisy took a turn for the worse and is back in surgery. She said some crazy stuff and Tom wants me to look into her files, see what I can find.”
“Crazy stuff like what?”
Aubrey leaned against the column that held the roof up over the porch. She hadn’t had breakfast, even tea, was running on fumes. “Like she has more than one son.”
Meghan rocked back in her seat. “Seriously? Wow. That’s . . . intriguing.”
“I don’t know. She could have just been corked out of her brain on morphine. Tom asked me to look into it. You game? You are the one who was married to the PI, after all. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“Hell yeah, I’m in. Let’s do it!” She stood and started down the stairs.
“Um, Meghan? This isn’t a clothing-optional field trip.”
Meghan stopped and looked down. “Oh, yeah. Give me a sec.”
She roared back inside and came out five minutes later, hair wet and glistening, combat boots unlaced, miniskirt only slightly askew.
They got in the Audi and buckled up. “I need to stop by the house and check on Tyler and Winston first. Will only take a second.”
“Tyler’s back?”
“Sweating it out on my couch.”
“Bless his heart.”
“You know it.”
The drive was quick. Meghan offered to stay in the car, just to be safe.
“He doesn’t bite, you know.”
“He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Aubrey said. “You just represent all the worst ills of society to him.”
“I don’t get it. I’m a rebel. You’d think he’d love me.”
They’d been through this before. Tyler felt like Meghan was a poseur, just faking being this romantic rebel to make her coffee shop cool to the college kids. Aubrey didn’t think Tyler had any room to complain, considering. They’d argued about it more than once.
“Fine, stay here. I’ll be quick.”
Winston was thrilled to see her. Tyler was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a box of cereal. Without a bowl.
“Feeling better?” she asked, the suspicion in her voice clear. He usually didn’t eat when he was coming down.
“Not really. But I thought I should try something. Your moms-in-law okay?”
She collapsed in the seat next to him, rubbed Winston’s ears.
“No. She’s in emergency surgery right now. I need to go by their house, get some things.” She was hedging, and Tyler knew it. He sat back in the chair and eyed her.
“What kind of things?”
“Not money, Tyler. Records. Seems Daisy might have had more than one child, but no one knew about it until now. Is there any tea?”
“Do I look like your waiter?”
It was her turn to eye him. “You’re obviously feeling better, smart-ass. Anything I need to know?”
He shook his head. “The pills started to work. I had to go back and get some more, didn’t get back here till late. You were passed out in the bed.”
“It was a long day. Meghan did a search online and found some news about Derek Allen. Did you ever see the guy you overheard talking about Josh?”
“Yeah, though I don’t think he saw me. Dark, Mediterranean dark. Greek or Italian like. My height. Probably fifty-five, sixty. Silver hair.”
“That sounds like the guy who was at the hospital. That’s Derek Allen.”
And then Aubrey remembered where she’d seen him before. The accident. She couldn’t believe the penny hadn’t dropped before now. It was the hair: he’d gone completely gray over the past five years.
“What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Uh, maybe I have. I just now realized Derek Allen is the man we rear-ended the day Josh went missing.”
Tyler’s eyes went to the table. “I don’t know about you, Aubrey, but I don’t believe in coincidences.”
She touched his hand. “Neither do I.”
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
She pulled back, shoved her hands in her pockets. Something in his voice . . .
“What is it?”
He hesitated, then the words poured out of him. “Josh. His death. It’s my fault.”
Aubrey took a deep breath and sat down. “What do you mean?”
“Dude who gave me info on Derek Allen? He was a guy I knew years ago, back when I ran with the G2 crew. We were looking for alternate revenue streams. I mentioned Josh worked at Vandy and had access to all kinds of great drugs. I didn’t know he was going to tell anyone, especially not this Allen dude. I was just bragging. I got popped the next week, hadn’t talked to him again until now. That’s why I slipped, I had to use to make him trust me. At first, he thought I was a narc.”
Aubrey shut her eyes. There it was. The key. The link. What she’d been missing all along. The how behind Josh’s downfall.
A coldness filled her. How simple and cavalier he’d been with Josh’s life. Tyler, her brother, her helper, had betrayed her savior.
Something in her felt like it was going to burst.
Pull it together. Don’t do something you’ll regret.
Tyler reached over and grabbed her hand. “Aubrey, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I’d do anything to go back and redo that conversation. I had no idea it was going to end up this way.”
“You’re the link. You’re the reason he’s dead,” she said softly, and his face went ashen. Tears came to his eyes.
“Aubrey, forgive me, please. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was so fucked up back then.”
She nodded once, removed her hand from his. Stood up. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad the methadone is working. I’m glad you’re feeling better. I have to go, Meghan is waiting for me.”
His face collapsed into a grimace. “I will never understand what you see in her.”
Her voice was steady. “She was there for me when I had no one. I will never understand why you don’t like her. She’s never been anything but nice to you.”
“Something about her I don’t trust. You be careful around her. I’m going to go lie down. That is, if it’s cool that I crash here for a while? I completely understand if you want me to leave, and never see me again. If I were you, I’d want me dead.”
She did. God, she did.
She was fighting hard against the fear, the worry, the pain. The overwhelming desire to grab her kitchen knife and slice her foster brother’s throat. But she didn’t. It took all her effort, but she found the calm inside. At least she knew now how this had happened. Knowing made it easier.
And with everything that was going on, Tyler and his very loaded weapon couldn’t hurt. Tyler had been her bodyguard before. It was his turn to watch her back again.
“Clean up after yourself, and let Winston out, would you?”
“When will you be back?”
“Soon.”
He scrutinized her, his dark blue eyes running over her face, making her flush.
“Are you really okay, Aubrey? I know you’re upset. You have every right to kick me out.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll be fine. If you find anything else out about Allen, let me know immediately. I’ll be back in a bit.”
He hesitated, then gave her a hauntingly familiar half smile. “Bring some food, yeah? You eat like a single white girl.”
“Shocking, Tyler. I am a single white girl.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just bring home some meat or something. Lean Cuisines and cereal can’t sustain a growing boy.”
She pulled a twenty out of her wallet and handed it to him. “Order pizza or a sandwich.”
Tyler eyed the money, and she immediately saw what he was weighing. “Thanks,” he mumbled. She was interested in this new reluctance to take money from her; the humility of it was rather fascinating. Twice now he’d made conscious decisions about whether to put the money into his arm. Maybe he was changing. Or maybe he was acting out of guilt and regret. Well, he should.
Stop, Aubrey. Stop.
“Today?”
Meghan stood in the doorway, hand on a cocked hip.
“Sorry, Meghan. I’m coming.”
Meghan and Tyler stared at each other. Aubrey felt the intensity of their glares; the room practically crackled with animosity. She debated saying something, trying to smooth things over between them, shrugged and patted Winston’s head one last time.
“Come on,” she said to Meghan, took her by the arm and dragged her back to the car. There was no reason to share what she now knew about Tyler’s role in Josh’s disappearance. It wouldn’t change anything. It would hurt; Meghan wouldn’t be able to see past the new information, and would want to blame Tyler for everything.
Once they’d gotten in, Aubrey asked, “Why do you hate him so much?”
“It’s not hate. It’s disappointment.”
“What do you mean?”
Meghan shot her a glance. “He should have straightened himself out and helped you heal after Josh died. That’s all.”
“Oh. I never expected that from him, Meghan.”
“You should have. He was the closest thing to family you had.”
“I’m glad I have you. You’re my family,” Aubrey said, giving Meghan a squeeze on the arm. “And you are definitely a better cook than Tyler. I would have starved.”
The sun returned to Meghan’s smile and the flame to her eyes. “So, we’re off to dear old Mummy’s house. I bet you there are wire hangers all over the place.”
And Aubrey thought, You have no idea.
CHAPTER 44
Aubrey had always felt nervous in Daisy’s home. Even with Tom’s sanction, it seemed wrong to be snooping in the woman’s things. But this was important, and Aubrey reminded herself that it might all be a moot point anyway, especially if Daisy didn’t make it.
She was almost glad for the distraction. After Tyler’s revelation, she’d taken to checking her email every five minutes—she’d actually set up the mail account on her phone. She hadn’t been using that function; she never used her phone to access the Internet anymore. It was something she’d tried to instill in her kids at school, too: if you need information from the Internet, do so at a computer, not your phone. She hated watching people walk around with their eyes glued to their palms, bumping into people because they were so absorbed in their own little worlds that they couldn’t interact with reality anymore.
She had morphed into the worst kind of hypocrite. Like an ex-smoker who eschewed any contact with their old lifestyle. She used to use her phone all the time. Maybe she had texting PTSD. And really, who could blame her?
She checked it again, saw nothing new. No surprise there. In the After, Aubrey didn’t have a lot of contact with people. Very few emails, and those only from good friends and spammers. She’d closed her Facebook account, and had never been on friendly terms with Twitter. She had her habit: she checked her email once a day, usually preceding writing a note to Josh. She told herself she was fighting the rising tide of technology, but the truth was, she never felt safe online. She felt so . . . exposed.
“You expecting a call?” Meghan asked.
Aubrey lied smoothly. “Just hoping for an update from Tom.”
Meghan had already broken into Daisy’s desk—she wasn’t going to waste any time. She turned around and eyed Aubrey. “What’s the sudden interest in this woman, Aubrey? She’s been nothing but a bitch to you for years. My God, she testified against you, did her level best to get you sent to jail for life. And here you are, acting like you actually care.”
Meghan was right. In all honesty, Aubrey didn’t know what had come over her since Daisy’s accident. Manning the late-night shift, trying to communicate, to help. Yes, Daisy hated her, but Aubrey liked to think she was the bigger person. She just hadn’t ever had an opportunity to show it. Or maybe it was Chase. Maybe opening her heart to someone had allowed her to forgive. Or, maybe, to find the final thing to sever all ties for good.
; Die, bitch, just die.
Maybe not.
She arranged her face carefully. “Josh would want me to take care of his mother, Meghan. We’re here to dig into her life, not psychoanalyze my motivations. Did you find anything?”
Meghan stood up, her brow furrowed. “No. Nothing of use. Everything here is current, just tax stuff and phone bills and bank statements. Filing cabinet?”
Aubrey glanced around. “In the closet.”
The filing cabinet was locked. Meghan went back to the desk and started rifling through again, came up with the key. “Ta-da,” she cried, holding it aloft. She unlocked the cabinet and started sifting through the files.
Aubrey had never spent any time in Daisy’s office. She wasn’t exactly sure why Daisy had an office in the first place. Daisy didn’t do anything. She didn’t work. She didn’t have friends. Oh, she had the people she called friends, acquaintances from the club, people she tried to one-up. But actual girlfriends, people she confided in? Aubrey couldn’t remember Josh ever saying anything that would lead her to believe that Daisy was anything but a bitter, shriveled-up woman, old before her time.
Her office reflected that life of isolation. No pictures, no homey touches. It was frank and utilitarian and clean. Too clean. It was the office of a woman desperate for control.
“Bingo,” Meghan said. Aubrey heard clinking, looked over to see Meghan pulling out two bottles of vodka, one fresh, one half empty.
“Is Daisy a drinker?”
“I guess. I really haven’t spent a lot of time with her since Josh . . .” Say it, Aubrey. Say it. You don’t want to mess up now. “. . . died.”
“Hmm. Check this out,” Meghan said.
She handed Aubrey a file folder that had aging yellow cuttings from The Tennessean. Front and center was a photo of a young woman, no older than Aubrey was now, with a wide smile, frank eyes, and a microphone in her hands. The piece was called “New Voices,” and the name under the photograph read Daisy Dee.
Aubrey read it quickly, shocked to find out her mother-in-law had been a lounge singer. A pretty good one, from the sound of it. She’d been honored along with a few other session musicians and singers as the best the city had to offer in the way of country music.
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