Without a word, Farber yanked open the door and climbed in. He pointed to a narrow dirt road off to the right. “Take that. It’s not really for public use, but we’ve got our badges if anyone asks. It’s a shortcut to the riverbank.” He shot a wry grin at Sean. “My brother and me used to walk it when we came here.”
Sean put the vehicle in gear and aimed it for the unmarked road Farber had indicated. His tires stirred dust, and it poured through the window openings. Sean coughed and reached to roll up the windows.
“Leave ’em. Stinks like an ashtray in here.”
Sean swallowed a laugh. The man was full of contradictions. Farber gave terse directions, punctuating his words with finger jabs, and eventually they reached the end of the road. A grassy patch, shaded by towering trees, stretched ahead of them. A long grassy rise that looked like a giant mole path curved toward the east.
Farber reached for the door handle. “Park here, get out, then follow me.” He exited before Sean had a chance to turn off the engine.
Sean left his keys in the ignition and trotted to catch up. Farber had climbed to the top of the rise and stood, hands in pockets, staring into the distance. Sean stopped next to him, then let out a low whistle. The river for which the park had been named flowed below them, its soft gurgle joining with the wind’s whisper. Small twigs and leaves floated on the brownish water.
“The place where the twins were found is about a hundred yards north of where we’re standing.”
Sean shot the man a startled look. “You’ve been out here before?”
He snorted. “ ’Course I have. When I investigate, I investigate.” He pointed to a spot ahead where the grass was flattened, then headed for it. Sean automatically followed. “The Dunsbrooks’ campsite was roughly a half mile from the river, in a designated camping area. This stretch here is supposed to be off limits, but…” He angled a wry grin at Sean. “Boys will be boys.”
Farber paused on the patch of flattened grass, at the very edge of the rise. “I don’t know if you spent time at Riverside Park when you were a kid, but I did. For at least a half mile along this riverbank, there are steep inclines like this one. The soil is sandy. Easy to dig in.” Without warning, he dropped to his bottom and slid down to the bank below. He squinted up at Sean. “Come on.”
Sean grimaced. He’d dressed in work trousers, not faded jeans like Farber was wearing. Meghan would have a fit if he stained them. But what else could he do? He huffed out a breath of resignation and imitated Farber’s actions. He landed, his shoes digging into the soft sand. He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. He’d need to empty his shoes before he got back in the Bronco.
Farber gestured to the cliff-like wall they’d descended. “My brother and me made maybe a dozen little caves out here when we were kids. Mom had a fit every time we came home filthy from digging. She’d tell us that one of these days a cave would collapse and bury us both. It never happened to us. But…” He bent over and picked up a twig, then used it as a pointer. “Imagine the Dunsbrook cousins digging a cave…and what Mom said would happen to Tim and me happened to them. But it only fell on the little ones because the big one was smart enough to stay at the outer edge.”
Recalling the dust filling his nose during their drive, Sean could imagine the panic of being smothered by sand and dirt. His chest went tight just thinking about it. “It’s a logical theory and would explain why dirt was in their nostrils and mouths, but that would mean they died in an accident. So why not tell the authorities what happened?”
“Maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe the older cousin was jealous of them. Twins get a lot of attention, you know. He might’ve gotten tired of playing second fiddle to them and deliberately caved it in.” Farber chewed the end of the stick, his expression thoughtful. “Or maybe he only wanted to scare them and didn’t expect them to actually die. Maybe he thought if he stuck their heads in the water it would revive them. Kids that age, they don’t reason like grown-ups do.” He turned his gaze to the opposite bank and fell silent, the end of the stick between his teeth.
Sean scooped a handful of the mixture of sand and clay from the bank and squeezed it, then watched it drop in chunks to the bank. Farber’s speculations held merit. But they wouldn’t know if either were actualities without speaking directly to Stony Dunsbrook. Somehow, they—well, he, since Farber was taking leave—had to find the man.
Twenty-Five
Las Vegas, Nevada
Kevin
“So that’s the scoop, Gentry.” Kevin lounged on his bed, feet crossed, while a glass of orange juice—all that was left of the breakfast he’d ordered from room service—created a circle of condensation on the bedside stand. “I rebooked for next Friday instead. Can you handle things for another week?”
Kevin’s return flight to Arkansas was scheduled to leave at six that evening for a projected landing in Fort Smith at midnight. When he booked it, he’d figured a full week in Vegas would be plenty to accomplish everything he needed to do to get the building purchased and the reno underway. But he hadn’t anticipated getting involved with Diane DeFord.
“Of course, sir. Should I keep forwarding your email?”
He wished his newest receptionist sounded more confident, but things couldn’t fall apart too badly in only two short weeks. Even if he had fires to put out when he got back, it’d be worth it to have a little more time with his old college flame. He nearly snorted at his own private pun. “Yes, do that, and if something important comes up and you can’t reach me, my attorney has the power to act on my behalf, so give him a call.”
A shuffling sound came through the connection. “Is your attorney David Bradley?”
Didn’t the contact’s name in the database have the title attorney-at-law behind it? Kevin closed his eyes, shook his head, and held back the sarcastic reply. “Yes.”
“All right. I have his number right here next to my telephone now.”
“Good girl.” Kevin knew the comment was condescending, but he doubted naive Gentry realized it. She was a good kid, but after being around Diane, he’d lost his taste for kids. He wondered more and more what he’d ever seen in Tawny. Besides her physical attractiveness, which she had in spades, she was shallow, unmotivated, and pouty. And thanks to his stupidity, he’d be paying her alimony for the next four years. If he hadn’t employed a prenup, it’d be worse, but still…
“Enjoy the rest of your time in Las Vegas, Mr. Harrison.” Gentry’s perky voice carried to his ear. “I hope it’s all successful.”
“Thanks. Bye, now.” Kevin dropped his cell phone on the mattress and grabbed the glass of juice. He downed it in one swig, then slung himself out of the bed. If he intended to join Diane and her mother at Lights Plus, their agreed-upon location to purchase new chandeliers and sconces for the loft apartment, he needed to get ready.
Kendrickson, Nevada
Diane
Diane entered the living room and stopped in front of Mother’s ottoman. She held her arms wide and turned a slow circle. “Well? How do I look?”
“Very nice. I’ve always liked that outfit.”
Diane slid her hands over the hips of the trim-fitting Caribbean-blue capri pants, then adjusted the collar of her short-sleeved white blouse dotted all over with tiny sailboats in the same brilliant blue stitching. “It’s one of my favorites, but…” She gave her mother an uncertain frown. “Is it too dressy? I mean, we are just light-fixture shopping, so I don’t want to go overboard.”
Mother laughed. “Interesting choice of words, considering the embroidery on your top.”
Diane didn’t join in.
Mother sat up in her chair and patted the ottoman. Diane perched sideways. Mother took her hand. “You’ve been on edge since you came back from the apartment yesterday morning. If being around him makes you this uncomfortable, then why put yourself through it? Clearly he has the financial m
eans to hire a professional interior designer. He doesn’t need our help.”
“But then I’d have to give back the money he gave me, and I could really use it.”
Mother made a pfffft sound with her lips. “We aren’t destitute. We’d find another way to fund your car tires. If you want to back out, do so.”
Diane considered her mother’s suggestion. Why was she so torn concerning Kevin Harrison? After their decades of separation and her total disinterest in connecting with him, why did she now make herself available to him? She wished she knew. “I hate to quit when I’ve made a commitment. Plus, I think it’ll be really fun to redo that place. It’s such a unique apartment, and there’s so much potential.”
“Then do it.”
“But doing it means being in contact with Kevin until the renovation is done, and that could take weeks. Maybe even months.”
Mother laughed again. “Margaret Diane, you’re talking in circles. Aren’t you getting dizzy?”
Diane hung her head and chuckled. “I guess I am being pretty ridiculous. I mean, all he wants from me is a redecorated apartment.” Her throat tightened, and she swallowed. “So I shouldn’t care if my outfit is too much or not enough for an outing to Lights Plus.”
Mother squeezed Diane’s hand between her warm palms. “Honey, instead of thinking about what Kevin wants from you, maybe you should ask yourself what you want from him.”
Diane gave her mother a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Only that I wonder if your continued willingness to spend time with him holds an ulterior motive. Your relationship ended so abruptly thirty-some years ago. Much was left unsaid that has probably rolled around inside you for decades. Do you want to let loose those unsaid words but haven’t had the courage to do so yet?”
“I…” Diane blinked. She licked her lips. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Have you forgiven him?”
“I think I have.”
Mother gave Diane the pointed look she used to hate when she was a teenager—the one that asked if she was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Mother would have made an incredible prosecuting attorney.
Diane threw her hands in the air. “I said I think I have.”
“Well, until you know you have, you better keep examining yourself. Because holding on to unforgiveness benefits no one, and least of all the carrier.”
“I know all this, Mother.” Diane rose and paced the length of the room. Duchess, Miney, and Molly hopped down from their spots on the couch and accompanied her, tails wagging and tongues lolling. “What did the author Marianne Williamson say? Refusing to forgive is like drinking a poison and expecting the other person to die? Something like that. I’ve been able to be in his presence without strangling him. Doesn’t that mean I’ve forgiven him?”
Mother settled back in her chair, chortling. “It’s certainly a start.”
Diane flopped onto the ottoman again. Miney leaped into Mother’s lap, Duchess hopped up with Diane, and Molly collapsed at Diane’s feet. Diane tugged Duchie close and played with her silky ears. “He told me he’s been married four times. He didn’t say so, but I presume every relationship ended in divorce.”
Sympathy pursed Mother’s wrinkled face. “Oh, my goodness. So much failure.”
Diane nodded. “He asked me why I’d never married, and I told him why. Afterward I got really mad at myself because my answer showed something I didn’t necessarily want him to know.”
“What’s that?”
“That I loved him. I really, truly loved him. When he told me to abort our baby”—tears stung and she sniffed—“shouldn’t that have killed every bit of affection I felt for him?”
“Love isn’t so easily squelched.” Mother braced her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin on her fist, as if tiredness had suddenly claimed her. “Over and over my father disappointed my mother with his broken promises and drunken rages. Yet she never walked away. And she had the chance. She could have come with me and made a clean start when I left for college. But she stayed with him until the end, even though it shredded her heart to do so.”
Mother sighed and sat up. “When we love someone, the roots grow deep into our hearts, and sometimes getting over the person is as ineffective as pulling up a dandelion. We can yank out the flower, but under the soil the roots continue to thrive. Mama never loved any man except Daddy. Your daddy was my first and only love. It could be that despite everything Kevin Harrison put you through, deep inside your heart, there’s still a root of love for him.”
Diane gawked at her mother. “You mean I still love him now? After what he did, I should hate him.”
Mother’s dark eyes snapped. “Can you hate him and still love his child? She’s a part of him, you know.”
She might have been smacked, as hard as Mother’s statement struck her conscience. Diane lowered her gaze. Molly’s round brown eyes peered up with adoration. Apparently the dog had already forgotten about having her paw trod upon that morning when Diane stepped from the closet in the dark room. Complete forgiveness. Complete trust that the hurt hadn’t been intentional.
“Believe me, in my household anything but perfection was unacceptable.”
Kevin’s wry comment, delivered in the midst of proclamations of regret, whispered through Diane’s memory. He’d also admitted to being young and stupid. They’d both erred, engaging in a relationship outside marriage that produced another human being. His rejection hadn’t been premeditated. It came in a moment of great emotional upset. Could the same be said about the feelings she carried today?
Was some of her resentment toward Kevin a means of absolving herself of blame? After all, she’d chosen to bring the pregnancy to term and raise Meghan, despite the hardships and loneliness. When people looked down at her, she’d smugly assured herself that she’d at least been the bigger person by protecting the baby rather than snuffing out her life, the way her father had demanded.
Diane covered her face with her hands. “Mother, if you’re right, if part of the reason I’m still alone is because I never let go of my first love, then what do I do?”
Soft hands cupped Diane’s head. Mother’s breath brushed her face as Mother began to pray. She thanked God for the precious gift named Meghan, thanked Him for His ability to make beauty out of ashes, and asked Him for wisdom concerning Diane’s involvement in Kevin’s project. She spoke with the ease of one who knew her Listener and trusted Him completely. Then her voice turned husky.
“Our gracious Father, I praise You for wanting the best for Your children. You know we cannot be happy unless we practice Your teachings and strive to reflect Your glory. Please guide my dear child in her words, actions, and emotions. We give You control. Work Your will in her life, Lord, and in the lives of Meghan and her father. In Your Son’s name I ask these things. Amen.”
Diane opened her eyes, and tears spilled. Mother’s cheeks were moist, too, but her eyes glowed. Smiling, she slid her hands to Diane’s jaw. “Healing will come, Margaret Diane. For you, for Meghan, and for Kevin. I believe it. Just wait. You’ll see.”
“You’ll see.” Wasn’t that what Diane had told Kevin about prayer making a difference?
Diane placed her hands over Mother’s and nodded. Healing would come. She believed it. She released a shaky laugh. “Thanks. I hope I don’t have to wait too long, though. It’s already been over thirty years, you know.”
Mother gave a brusque nod. “And that’s enough time to wait.” She kissed Diane’s forehead, the way she had when Diane was a little girl in need of comfort, then let go. She set Miney aside and pushed herself upright. “I need to find my shoes. Even if we’re only going to Lights Plus, I ought to wear something other than my bedroom scuffs.”
Las Vegas, Nevada
Kevin
Kevin found Diane and her mother waiti
ng inside the doors of the incredibly monstrous warehouse. He slipped his sunglasses to the top of his head and winced. Between the sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides of the building and the glowing bulbs in the hundreds of fixtures hanging from the industrial-type metal beams overhead, the light was almost blinding.
He slid his sunglasses back into place and grinned. “Boy, Diane, you weren’t kidding when you said they had a good selection. There are enough chandeliers in here to decorate every house in Little Rock with a few left over for sheds.”
Her lips formed a weak smile, and she glanced up and down the aisles, as if she was expecting someone else. Had she invited the plumber to join them? The thought rankled.
Hazel handed him a trifold brochure. “This might come in handy. It’s a map of the store.”
Kevin unfolded it. A map to guide shoppers through a light-fixture warehouse. Now he’d seen everything. “This is smart. As big as the place is, a person could get lost in here.”
Hazel chuckled. She tapped the page. “Along the edge is a key. Scan down the list and find the type of fixture you want. They have it all, from antique reproduction to ultramodern. It’ll be less overwhelming if you choose a style and we go to that department instead of endlessly wandering in search of ‘the one.’ ”
If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect the older woman of delivering a dig about his numerous relationships. He’d spent the past thirty years trying to find “the one” who would complete his life. If he’d had a map back in the day, would it have led him to Diane? He cringed. Life itself had led him to her, and he’d foolishly let her go.
Kevin glanced at Diane. She hadn’t said a word, which was out of character for the girl he’d once known and didn’t seem to match the woman he’d recently met. He waved the paper, and she turned her attention to him. Finally. He smiled. “Miss Decorator, why am I the one holding the map? You’re calling the shots on this, remember?”
Unveiling the Past Page 20