How the Heart Runs

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How the Heart Runs Page 19

by Anne Marie Rodgers


  Kate exhaled. “Jonathan Morlen’s sister-in-law accused him of improper legal dealings. According to the senior partner I spoke to, there was no substance to the allegations, but the scandal reflected badly on both Morlen and the firm, adversely affecting their business. They were forced to request his resignation. The partner said that Jonathan is a fine attorney, and he has his own small practice now.”

  “Emmaline,” Livvy said softly. “Why did she do it?”

  “The senior partner said the woman had lost her husband not too long before that, and that the Morlens had taken her in because she was financially strapped. He said the woman had done some crazy things like insurance fraud. His theory is that the accusations she made against Jonathan were in retaliation because Jonathan asked her to move out after the fraud became public knowledge.”

  “So she committed insurance fraud and then compounded it by ruining her sister’s family’s life.” Livvy’s eyes were huge. “Kate, this woman really could harm Paul’s reputation.”

  Kate nodded. “But get this: Jonathan Morlen is a very decent man. For the sake of his family, he asked that his accuser’s name not be revealed. I asked if it was Jonathan’s sister-in-law, and the partner did confirm that for me, although he wouldn’t name her. He also said he heard it caused a big rift in the family. But, Livvy, here is the strangest thing: When I asked him if Morlen’s sister-in-law was Emmaline Ashford, there was a long silence, and then he said no.”

  “No? So Emmaline wasn’t the person who smeared Morlen’s name?”

  Kate shook her head grimly. “Technically, no. There is no Emmaline Ashford. I think our dear friend Emmaline has been masquerading under an assumed name.” Then a thought struck her. “Livvy! When Emmaline showed me the painting she did that hangs in her grandmother’s house, the artist’s signature showed the initials E.N. She told me that was her maiden name. But what do you want to bet that E.N. are the initials of her real name?”

  Livvy nodded. “Um, Kate? Forgive me for playing devil’s advocate, but why is her real name important? We know she did it, regardless of what her name is.”

  “Maybe it’s not important,” Kate said. “But it might be. I won’t know until I confirm it.”

  Kate’s head was reeling. Leaving Livvy to her work, Kate headed home. She wanted to bake. Baking calmed her, helped her to focus, and heaven knew she needed calming and focusing at the moment.

  She made four dozen coconut macaroons for the Faith Freezer Program. While she combined the shredded coconut, sweetened condensed milk, salt, vanilla extract, and almond extract, she reviewed the entire bizarre situation surrounding Emmaline Ashford, from the frightened woman who had collapsed into Kate’s lap at the Bristol to the vindictive manipulator who ruined her own brother-in-law’s career.

  And now she was threatening Paul’s reputation.

  Kate had brought home the article Livvy had printed out, and she read it over and over again, as if the writing might change if she kept reading.

  It wasn’t until she had pulled the last of the macaroons from the oven that she saw it. At the very bottom of the article was a link to “Related Articles.”

  She debated for all of five seconds before grabbing her handbag and rushing back to the library. Her wheezing Internet connection at home would drive her mad if she had to wait until it cranked out each little piece of information.

  Livvy was out to lunch when Kate got there, so she went straight upstairs and got on one of the computers again. Pulling up the article about Jonathan Morlen’s misfortune, she clicked the “Related Articles” link at the very bottom of the screen. She was counting on one of those articles being authored by someone who hadn’t cared about protecting the privacy of Jonathan Morlen’s sister-in-law.

  Approximately ten seconds later, Kate sat back and said, “Well, hello there. It’s nice to meet the real you.”

  “EMILY NASH,” she said to Livvy when she went downstairs. Livvy was in her office, staring at her computer screen.

  Livvy’s eyes grew wide, and she put the sandwich down. “That’s Emmaline’s real name?”

  Kate nodded. “Remember I couldn’t find any articles written by Emmaline Ashford? Well, there are a whole bunch authored by Emily Nash. And I might not be an expert, but the writing style is similar enough to the way Emmaline speaks that I’m pretty sure she’s the author.”

  “Emily Nash.”

  “Right. But that’s not all. There was also an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer about her”—Kate handed it to Livvy—“which explains a lot.”

  As Livvy read it, her eyes grew wider. “Wow” was all she said.

  “It gets even more interesting,” Kate said. “With one of the Emily Nash articles, there was a link to a blog by an E. M. Nash. Here. Read this.”

  Livvy took the papers Kate had printed out. “E. M. Nash dot blogspot dot com,” she read. “What’s it say about the author? Oh, here you go: ‘About Me.’” She perused the page on which the author had shared a few details about herself. “Just a Philly girl who loves the Eagles and her family. Right,” she said, snorting.

  “And listen to this,” Kate said. “This blog is called ‘If Only I Could Say I’m Sorry.’ Livvy, I got chills when I read it. Emmaline—Emily—talks about how she suffered a huge loss, how alone she was. How she didn’t feel her family was supportive enough, and anger and spite led her to make a huge mistake that harmed her family and destroyed her relationship with them. And how she’s still making some of the same mistakes.” Kate shook her head. “This blog was only written about two weeks ago. Emmaline isn’t healed from whatever happened to cause the manipulative behavior and the vindictive acts. In fact, I think she’s getting worse. She needs professional treatment. Until she can confront her pain and work through it, she’s going to continue to suffer.”

  “She needs to get help. Any bright ideas on how to accomplish that?”

  Kate considered the question. “I do have an idea. The thing is, it hinges on whether or not she is open to honestly facing her problems and getting psychological help. Here’s what I’d like to do...”

  Chapter Twenty

  At home, Kate forced herself to eat a bite of lunch. She had to babysit for the Millers at two o’clock, a commitment she had made at church on Sunday when Frank mentioned his mother-in-law’s schedule had changed. Before she left to go to the Millers’, she laid the article she had found prominently on the kitchen counter where Paul couldn’t miss it. Then she grabbed her handbag and dashed out the door.

  Kate arrived at Frank and Stephanie Millers’ home a few minutes before Frank left for work.

  He answered the door when she rang the bell, looking even more harried than he had when Stephanie had been in the hospital, if that was possible. Baby Alaina was on his hip, screaming.

  Automatically, Kate reached out and took the baby. “Goodness, gracious,” she said, rocking back and forth with the distressed infant. “What’s the matter here?” She realized she had assumed the same soothing voice she used to cajole and calm her own children and grandchildren through the years. Some skills never faded.

  Alaina quieted almost immediately, laying her little head against Kate’s shoulder as she heaved a huge sigh.

  “She needs to sleep,” Frank said, running one hand through his hair. “But she wants her mother. They all do. I can barely keep the other two out of Stephanie’s room. Until her incision is healed, she isn’t supposed to be doing any lifting at all. In fact, she probably should be napping all afternoon. I really appreciate you offering to take the children to your house this afternoon.”

  “It’s no problem,” Kate said. “May I borrow your portable crib? That way Alaina can nap, and I can spend time with the other two.”

  “Of course,” Frank said. “I’ll get the kids and their things together and just follow you back to your house. My mother-in-law can pick them up around five.”

  Kate handed Alaina back to her father. The baby protested, but she didn’t start to screa
m again. Kate could tell that the tot was so sleepy, she’d be out the minute she got in her car seat.

  Hurrying down the hall, Kate peeked into the master bedroom. Stephanie lay in the big bed, looking as if she was about to nap too.

  “Hi, Kate,” she said, clearly making an effort to appear alert. “Thank you so much for all your help. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Kate said. “And church family. How are you feeling?”

  “Sore,” Stephanie said with a wry grin. “I sure wish I’d been able to have laparoscopic surgery. But when the appendix burst, they had to get in there quick and clean everything out. As a result, I have a huge, old-fashioned appendix scar.”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t worse,” Kate said gently.

  “Me too. It’s my own fault for ignoring it.” Stephanie grinned. “The doctor couldn’t believe I could stand that pain. I told him I barely had time to think about it with three little ones at home.”

  Kate laughed. “Well, you continue to rest. Your mother will bring the kids back home after work, so you have all afternoon to sleep.” She genuinely wanted to help Stephanie, but she also had to admit that having the children’s departure overlap Emmaline’s arrival by a few minutes was crucial to her plan that afternoon.

  “Thank you,” Stephanie said, relief spreading across her face. She was practically asleep already when Kate stepped out of the room.

  KATE DROVE BACK to her house, pulling into the garage before rushing out to the driveway to help Frank with the children.

  “I’ll leave the entire car seat,” he told her as he lifted out a sleeping Alaina, still buckled into her seat. He handed the carrier to Kate and grabbed a Portacrib.

  “You may not even need the crib, but I’ll set it up anyway,” Frank said. “She’ll probably just sleep in her car seat for a couple of hours.”

  Kate hoped so. Not that she didn’t adore the happy baby, but the older two kept her hopping. She honestly could understand why Stephanie had put off dealing with her appendix pain so long.

  Frank set up the Portacrib, hugged the kids, and then left for work.

  Kate was pleased that the two older children, Anna in particular, appeared to be content to be with Kate and barely acknowledged their father’s departure. In her opinion, that indicated that they were happy and secure.

  She put on a Disney movie that Frank had mentioned they liked. Kate didn’t believe in using television as a baby-sitter, but it didn’t bother her too much to use it as a sleep aid. They weren’t five minutes into the film when Anna’s little head began to loll against Kate’s shoulder. As Anna nodded off, Kate simply laid her on the carpeted floor and covered her with an afghan. She was afraid to put the child on a bed, in case she should roll around during her nap.

  Adam was happily watching the movie. It was a short one, less than an hour, so she let him finish it. While he was still engaged, she took the opportunity to call Paul and run her plan by him. Since it very well could involve his considerable counseling skills and he was also the one most at risk, she felt it was imperative to warn him.

  Then she called Emmaline. If Kate’s plan worked, it would be time for a heart-to-heart talk.

  Emmaline answered the phone in a cheery voice. When she realized it was Kate, she was wary at first. But when she realized that Kate intended to be pleasant, she couldn’t have been more responsive. If Kate hadn’t seen her in action the night before, she would have found it hard to believe that this friendly woman could be so spiteful. At her invitation, Emmaline agreed to come for dinner.

  When Adam’s movie ended, Kate took the little boy into the kitchen, where his baby sister was still sleeping peacefully in her carrier. She moved the carrier into the living room and set it on the floor near the sleeping Anna. It would be easy to hear either of them if they awoke. Then she and Adam went back into the kitchen and made spritz cookies using a cookie press and several different decorative stencils. The press was hard for him to operate, but with Kate’s help, they made several dozen cookies in various flower and leaf shapes. Then Kate got out her colored sugars, and the two of them decorated all the cookies.

  While the cookies baked, Kate got out Play-Doh that Frank had brought along. She and Adam made Play-Doh animals and all sorts of things until all the trays of cookies had baked and were cooling on the counter.

  The entire time, Kate was mentally rehearsing the plan she intended to carry out any minute now.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The afternoon passed quickly. Alaina slept peacefully through most of the visit. When Anna awoke from her nap, she joined Adam in the kitchen. Both children stayed amazingly engaged with the Play-Doh for longer than Kate could believe. Who needs the newest high-tech toys when a small amount of Play-Doh will do just the trick, she thought.

  Paul called as she tidied up, and she took the opportunity to explain her vision of the afternoon to him in more detail.

  When she hung up the telephone, she sat down at the kitchen table for a fleeting moment and hastily offered a prayer.

  Please use me to help your child, Emmaline... or Emily? Help her to come to terms with her behavior and turn to you for healing.

  She turned to the task of cleaning little faces and little hands. Stephanie’s mother would be arriving soon, and she wanted the children to be clean and neat when she saw them.

  At ten minutes of five, Paul’s truck pulled into the driveway. He parked and sat in the driver’s seat, waiting for his cue. Kate glanced at her watch. Four fifty-four. Emmaline should be here any minute.

  It wasn’t even a minute until Emmaline’s car appeared, and she parked behind Paul’s truck. She looked very nice today, casual in a light pink gingham blouse and a crisp pair of dark blue slacks. Over her arm she carried a pink jacket.

  Paul got out of his truck and closed the door as if he had just arrived as well.

  Showtime.

  KATE WATCHED FROM INSIDE the house as Emmaline looked at Paul. Instantly the woman’s face sobered. Paul took a step toward her, his expression filled with disappointment. Then she began to walk toward the house, clearly aware that Paul’s gaze was still affixed on her.

  She had taken only two steps when she clutched her chest and crumpled to the ground.

  “Here we go,” Kate said to herself.

  Emmaline had crumpled very gracefully so that she appeared to simply be preparing to take a nap.

  Kate was already holding Alaina, who had just awakened, and she snatched Anna up with the other arm, calling to Adam to follow her. She hated to alarm the children, but she couldn’t leave them unattended.

  Kate rushed out the door and hurried down the walk. Paul had hurried to Emmaline’s side and was leaning over her. “Call 911!” he called to Kate.

  But Kate just kept coming toward Emmaline, children in tow. “Emmaline? What’s wrong?”

  Behind her, Adam started to cry. “What’s wong wif Miss Em?” he cried out. Kate glanced around at Adam, noting the frightened, confused look on his face, and her heart clenched. While she had hoped to shame Emmaline into confronting and dealing with her behavior, it hadn’t occurred to Kate that she would go back to her old routine of pretending to be ill, and she felt badly for upsetting the little boy.

  Emmaline had continued to hold a tense hand to her chest but had opened her eyes when Paul shouted his order for Kate to call 911.

  Kate saw the exact moment when Emmaline noticed the crying children behind Kate. Her eyes flared wide, and she quickly pushed herself to a sitting position.

  “Wait,” she gasped, flushing. “Please don’t call an ambulance. It would frighten the children.”

  Kate knelt, not far from Emmaline, holding her gaze steadily as she called Adam to her and began to comfort him.

  “I’m going to go ahead and call, Paul,” she said, never looking away. To Emmaline, she added, “We couldn’t possibly risk having you go into cardiac arrest, Emmaline.”

  Emmal
ine flushed even more deeply. “No. I...I’m okay,” she said and settled into a more comfortable position on the ground. “It was just...a little chest pain.” To Adam, she held out her hand and said, “It’s okay, Adam. Come over here and sit in my lap.”

  Adam, clearly relieved, stopped crying. “Come see the cookies I made, Miss Em!” he said.

  “I would love to, sweetheart.” Emmaline climbed to her feet with Adam hanging on to one hand.

  Kate also stood, lifting both little girls. She waited until her friend met her gaze. “Emmaline, you were never really sick at all, were you?”

  A look of shock came over Emmaline’s face. “Why, how dare you—”

  “I saw the newspaper article, Emily,” Kate said, interrupting her.

  Tears filled Emmaline’s eyes. She was silent for a long moment, then simply replied, “Oh no.”

  Just then, Stephanie’s mother pulled into the driveway.

  “Adam,” Kate said, “look! Your grandma’s here.”

  “Grandma!” she heard him shout.

  A moment later, Kate helped her secure all the children in their car seats and then the car drove away.

  EMMALINE WAS SITTING on the couch, her head down and her shoulders slumping. Kate placed a hand on one of those sad shoulders and gently squeezed.

  “I’ll get us some drinks,” Kate said.

  Paul picked up the afghan that had covered Anna and folded it while Kate filled three glasses with ice water. She also arranged some of the fresh-baked spritz cookies on a plate. Thinking ahead, she also pulled out a box of tissues and grabbed the article about Emily Nash that she had left out on the counter.

  Paul carried some napkins into the living room behind Kate, and the two of them took seats on the comfortable overstuffed furniture around the coffee table with Emmaline between them.

  Paul mouthed to Kate, “Take your time,” and Kate nodded, then held up the article from the Inquirer that she had printed at the library. She reviewed it again. There was a photograph of Emmaline coming out of a hospital entrance. She had a startled look on her face, as if she hadn’t expected a photographer to be lying in wait for her.

 

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