Day and Night

by Kaylie Hunter

  Donovan laughed, leaning in to kiss Lisa’s forehead.

  “I couldn’t convince my younger sister to leave,” Katie whispered. “But I couldn’t stay. I had to get out. I joined the army and never went home again. I don’t even know if she’s alive. Or if she turned into an abusive drunk like my mother.”

  “She’s alive,” I said, reaching across the table to grasp her hand. “She has issues, but drinking isn’t one of them.”

  “You know about Lindsey?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “I’ve always known. Your mother died a few years ago, and I tracked Lindsey down to make sure she was okay.” I grinned as I wiped my tears. “She’s a bitch, but she’s made a decent life for herself.”

  Katie laughed. “Bitchiness is sort of a family trait. Let me guess, you offered help, and she told you to go to hell?”

  “She had a brighter vocabulary, but yeah.” I looked around the room. “It’s not very fair, is it? I’ve meddled in everyone’s lives while keeping secrets from all of you.”

  “That’s not meddling,” Alex said, shaking his head. “You’re the head of our family. You’ve carried that weight from the beginning, watching over all of us until we were strong enough to do it for ourselves. But now it’s time to show your mother just how strong you made us.”

  “Damn straight,” Anne said.

  “Agreed,” Grady said, walking over and picking up the tote. “This damn thing has been a distraction all day.”

  He set the tote in front of me, but I motioned for him to open it. I barely looked at anything when I was younger, and I was afraid now of what we would find.

  “It can’t hurt you,” Maggie whispered over my shoulder as everyone dug into the tote and grabbed folders. “They won’t let it.”

  I looked around the room as everyone started sorting and organizing the files. I hoped Maggie was right. I hoped that when the dust settled, they’d still be standing beside me. Grady handed me a pile of letters, held together by dried out rubber bands that fell to pieces when I took the stack from him. I pulled a handwritten letter out of the first envelope.

  “Kelsey,” Lisa said. “There are files in here on you and your family. Even your dad has a file.” She lifted almost a dozen files out of the tote.

  “Grady takes my folder and my father’s. Charlie gets her file and her parents. I’ll read my brothers’ files when I’m done with the letters.”

  “Fine by us. Looks like we have the rest of the town to sort through,” Donovan said. “She must have a file on everyone she ever met.”

  “My mother would’ve built a file on anyone she could use to do her dirty work or who could provide a future favor. She’s a master at manipulating others to do her bidding.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I was reading the fourth sappy love letter when I sensed Grady’s anger. He closed the file he was looking at, but not before I saw a photo. I reached over, opening the folder to look. The photo was of me, probably around fifteen years old, and I was sexually interacting with an older man. He was one of my regulars, the son of the local grocery store owner.

  “Figures. My mother probably got a discount on groceries with that photo in her pocket.”

  Grady slammed the file closed before storming out of the room. I looked over at Maggie and nodded toward the door. She followed him out, closing the door behind her.

  “Is he going to smash more windows?” Katie asked, not looking up from the file she was taking notes on.

  “I’d say the odds are fifty-fifty. My mother has photos of me prostituting myself to older men.”

  “Why did you give him your file?” Donovan asked. “Especially after yesterday.”

  “Because Grady has to decide for himself how much he wants to know at this point. There’s a fine line between knowing someone’s secrets and knowing too much. But I can’t keep deciding for him where that line starts and stops.”

  “Like when Katie thought I should know the names of all the men she’d slept with?” Tech said, rolling his eyes at Katie.

  I laughed. “No. That was Katie trying to scare you off.”

  The door opened, and Maggie stepped back inside, returning to the files she’d been reading. Grady walked in next, sitting back in the chair beside me. I didn’t ask if he was okay. I knew he wasn’t. I placed my hand on top of his. He turned his hand over and intertwined our fingers.

  Grady turned to look at me. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I love you.”

  “I know you do.”

  “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for me read your file.”

  I kissed his cheek before turning to Maggie. “Can you take my file?”

  “Yeah. Sure,” she said, reaching in front of Grady for it. “That’s why you asked me to come, right? To work the information like a case?”

  “At least the parts concerning me, yes. You don’t mind?”

  “No problem. I’ll work my notes in Donovan’s office. Be back in a few minutes.”

  I turned my attention back to the thick stack of letters I was reading. I finished four more and looked resentfully at the large pile still to go. The letters were in date order so I decided to skip toward the back, picking the third from the end. The letter was much more entertaining and didn’t take me long to read. I sat up straight, grabbing the next letter, then the last one. I looked over at Charlie, wondering if what I was thinking was real.

  The door opened, and Maggie walked back inside.

  Grady raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re done already?”

  “There’s not a lot in here that Kelsey didn’t already tell us. Just a few names and dates,” Maggie said. “I have three men and one woman that I need you to identify,” Maggie said, nodding for me to move away from the table.

  I followed her over to the credenza and looked at the photos. I was disgusted by them, both for my involvement with the men and my mother’s participation in taking and keeping the photos, but I gave Maggie the names of the men. The fourth photo was a picture of Marilyn, the nurse who helped Charlie and I when we were kids. “Why does she have a picture of Marilyn?”

  “That depends. What’s the woman handing you?”

  “Shit. What’s Michigan law on birth control prescriptions for minors?”

  “Did you have a prescription?” Maggie sighed.

  I dragged a hand through my hair. “No. Marilyn knew I couldn’t afford a doctor.”

  Maggie stepped around me and toward the table. “Was there a file on a nurse by the name of Marilyn?” Maggie asked Tech.

  “Yeah,” Tech answered as he dug through a stack of files. “Distribution of prescription drugs. Odd stuff like antibiotics, insulin, steroid shots, birth control.”

  “Not odd stuff,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Prescriptions you can’t afford if you live in a small town and there’s no free clinic,” Anne said. “How much trouble is this Marilyn woman in?”

  I looked back at the photo and sighed. “I’ll get her an attorney, but she’ll probably lose her nursing license if my mother turns her in.”

  Katie got up and took the file from Tech. “I’ll call Doc and see if he has any suggestions. We’ll keep her clear of this if we can.”

  “What the hell?” Charlie said, standing up with the folder she was reading still in her hands. “This says my mother had a hysterectomy.”

  “Why is that important?” Anne asked.

  “Because it was a year before I was born!”

  Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and looked first at Charlie, then at me.

  “So, how would you feel if I told you we might be half-sisters?” I asked as I moved back over to my section of the table.

  Charlie looked up from the file with widened eyes.

  “You should sit down and read these letters. It appears my father had an affair with a woman who might be your mother.” I pushed the stack of letters across the table toward Charlie.

  “That’s messed up,” Katie
whispered.

  “Does it say why she gave me up?”

  “No. But the last letter reveals that my mother caught him in the affair, so my father ended the relationship with the other woman.”

  “Did you get a name?”

  “Rose Peterson.”

  “There’s a file on someone with that name,” Tech said. “We have notes on her already. She was a hairdresser. There were some racy pictures of her with a man.” Tech dug out the file from the already read pile.

  “She left town after the stillbirth of her daughter,” Anne said, pointing to the TV screen behind me.

  I turned to see a list with notes next to each person’s name and near the top was Rose Peterson. Next to it was an indication that her daughter died during childbirth on April 1oth, twenty-nine years ago.

  “I can’t look in the file,” Charlie whispered, staring at the file that Tech was holding out for one of us to take.

  I grabbed the file, opening it to the photos. It was indeed my dad, sticking it to a woman. I didn’t know her, but she had a face I’d known my whole life. I got up and walked over to the credenza, fishing around in one of the drawers for a pair of scissors. I cut the head and neck out of one of the photos and set the smiling woman’s face down on the table in front of Charlie.

  “Look familiar?” I asked as I walked back to sit next to Grady.

  “She’s beautiful,” Charlie gasped.

  “So are you, luv,” Alex said. “Now we need to track her down.”

  “This is huge,” Maggie said, grinning. “Setting aside the fact that Charlie’s brain is probably imploding right now, if we can prove that the records were falsified, then this becomes a federal case that we can use against your family.”

  “I’m not ready to decide what we’ll do with any of this information yet. Let’s just keep digging.”

  “Call Genie and have her join us,” Tech said. “She can run backgrounds on Rose and anyone else who pops up while I keep categorizing the rest.”

  “I already called her,” Maggie said, nodding toward the doorway where Genie stood.

  “And I already arrived,” Genie said, giggling as she walked over to set up her laptop at the end of the table. “What can I do to help?”

  “Find this woman,” Charlie said, holding up the photo. “We think she might be my mother.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Genie asked.

  “We won’t know until we track her down and ask a few questions,” I answered, because I knew Charlie couldn’t. She wanted to be hopeful that she was related to someone kind and compassionate, but neither of us had had good luck where family was concerned, the only exception being the two of us.

  “Where’s Kierson?” I asked Genie.

  “At the hotel.”

  Charlie looked up at me, looking as scared as she had when we were kids.

  “Call him, Charlie.”

  “We’re not like that. Just because we occasionally sleep together, doesn’t mean anything. He should enjoy his time off.”

  “Call him,” Grady said. “You’re not alone, either.”

  Charlie stared down at her phone in front of her.

  “I know how you feel. It’s hard to ask for help,” I said to Charlie as I squeezed Grady’s hand. “But Kierson’s waiting for you to let him in, not the other way around.”

  Charlie picked up her phone and called. “Can you come to Headquarters?” There was a pause as Charlie’s lower lip quivered. “Thanks,” she said before hanging up. “He was already on his way. He’ll be here in a minute. I can’t believe he’s coming.”

  Genie snorted. “He grins for weeks after he spends time with you. It freaks the shit out of the rest of the suits and ties at the office. They literally jump out of the way like his smile is radioactive.”

  “It’s probably because of this thing I do with my tongue—” Charlie grinned as she wiped a tear away.

  “Stop!” I laughed.

  “La, la, la, la,” Lisa said, holding her hands over her ears.

  “Am I the only one who wants to know what she does with her tongue?” Alex asked.

  “If it wasn’t Kierson on the receiving end…” Genie said, scrunching up her face in disgust. “But with Kierson? Ewe. I’m with Lisa. La, la, la, la…” she said as she covered her ears.

  Kierson came running into the room, looking frantically around until his eyes locked on Charlie. When Charlie noticed him, her lower lip started to quiver again. He walked over, pulling her up from her chair and tucking her head under his chin.

  “I found Rose Peterson,” Genie said. “She’s living in the Traverse Bay area. Single, employed hair stylist, no record of any dependents. She moved up there right after her baby was born, apparently to live closer to her brother and his family.”

  “Criminal record?” I asked.

  “Nothing. She and her brother are clean.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything,” Charlie said, pulling away from Kierson. “Our parents don’t even have a speeding ticket, but that doesn’t make them good people.”

  “Only one way to find out, Charlie,” I said. “How do you want to play this?”

  “Who’s Rose Peterson?” Kierson asked Charlie.

  “She might be my mother,” Charlie answered.

  Kierson glanced over at me, and I shrugged. “Seems my father played hide the salami with this Rose woman and got her knocked up around the time that Charlie’s mother had a hysterectomy. We don’t know much more than that, other than if she is Charlie’s mom, then someone faked a death certificate.”

  “And a birth certificate,” Maggie added.

  “Genie, text me the address,” Kierson said, pulling Charlie toward the door.

  “Kierson?” I asked, standing and stepping in front of him.

  “I’ve got her, Kelsey,” he said before steering Charlie around me and out of the room.

  Grady pulled me back into my chair and handed me one of my brother’s files. I glanced back at the door one more time before opening the file.

  ~*~*~

  Twenty minutes later, Grady cursed from beside me. “I keep thinking this insanity has to end, and then there’s another sick layer.”

  “My father’s file?” I asked as I closed the last file I had in my stack.

  Grady nodded slowly, staring at the file he held.

  “It has to be something good,” I said, chuckling. “He sure as hell didn’t love or respect my mother. And he was distant to me and my brothers. What is it? What has she held over his head? Nothing short of murder would make sense to me.”

  Grady stiffened, turning to face me.

  “No...” I grabbed the file, opening it to see for myself. “He killed someone? Who?”

  “A homeless man was hit by a car late at night while walking along the edge of the road. Someone found the body the next morning. Police were asking for information on a suspect driving a dark blue car with chrome trim and round headlights.”

  “My father’s Nova,” I whispered, pulling a photo out of the file which showed the front-end damage to the headlight and front-quarter panel.

  “He doesn’t still have the car, does he?” Grady asked. “That’s a 1972 Chevy Nova. It’s a classic. Someone would’ve noticed it.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “He doesn’t, but my mother does.”

  Everyone was already listening, but their eyes got a little bigger.

  “How do you know your mother has the car?” Anne asked.

  “I was young, maybe four or five? I was in the backseat of my mother’s car while she drove around doing errands. She may have forgotten I was with her. But I remember her getting out of the car at a storage facility. I was curious why we were there. I released my seatbelt and sat on my knees to watch her from the rear window. She looked around and then opened the storage unit. She walked past the dust covered car toward shelves filled with boxes on the other side. I could only see the front of the car, but it had a broken headlight and a University of Michigan
vanity plate. This plate!” I pointed to the picture before turning back to Grady. “A few years later, I found a picture of my dad and my uncle standing in front of the same car. I asked my dad about it, and he said that he’d bought it when he was in high school and drove it until his sophomore year of college. He looked sad, though, and put the picture away. I was going to ask him why it was in the storage unit, but my mother called us to dinner.”

  “Why do you remember?” Maggie asked. “Most kids that age remember bits and pieces, but not details like being called to dinner.”

  “I have very few memories of speaking to my dad. He usually didn’t speak to anyone except my mother, and even then, he said as little as possible. It was probably the longest interaction I ever had with him.”

  “Do you think your mother still has the car?” Tech asked.

  “Yes. She saves everything, as you can see by the number of files here. But I don’t remember where the storage facility was. I wasn’t paying attention until she went into the storage unit.”

  “Do you remember anything? The color of the buildings? Or nearby buildings or houses?” Genie asked.

  “I don’t think so. Maybe if I were to drive by a bunch of them?”

  “Was it during the day or at night?” Grady asked.

  “Daytime. When I was younger, she’d sometimes drag me along while she did her errands, like her hair and nail appointments. I don’t remember everywhere we went that day, but I remember for sure that she went to the bank. The bank was always her last errand, so it was strange that we went to the storage facility instead of home.”

  “She kept you in the car during all those errands, didn’t she?” Maggie asked.

  “You know she did. She’d usually either take me with her, leaving me in the car while she ran the errands, or she’d leave me at home by myself.”

  “At four years old?” Anne asked.

  “Oh, since before then. My earliest memory was when she slapped me for crying to be let out of the car. I still had a car seat, not a booster seat, so I was maybe two?”

  Grady stood, radiating anger, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him back into his chair.