by Mary Birk
“I waited for you to call for months. To tell me you still cared about me, about us.”
“I’ve always cared about you, my love.” He kissed her hair again. “Only you. There’s been no one else for me since you left.”
“No one?”
He shook his head. “No one. God help me, I only want you.”
She was quiet again. Then she spoke, her voice quavering, and he could tell that she was close to tears. “God damn it, Terrence. What did you expect of me? Was I supposed to be some kind of chaste exiled bride until you decided to forgive me for not being what you want me to be? And how was I supposed to know to wait for you when you told me we were to go our separate ways?”
His stomach clenched. How could he have risked everything so casually just to get his way? “I am so sorry. I have been a royal prick.”
She sniffled. “Yes, pretty much. Yes, you have.”
“But you still love me?”
Anne blew out a breath, sounding frustrated. “It’s not that simple.”
“But do you?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
His muscles went weak with relief and he held her close, too close. “I am truly sorry for everything.” His body tensed again with his wanting. “You know how I feel about you.” He kissed her softly, and she let him, first passively, then he felt her body respond with the passion he’d felt in her earlier kisses. Her hand moved down to touch him, hold him, and he knew she could tell how badly he needed her.
What a girl, her sexual current always running just barely below the surface, and so easily urged to ground. She was a little hot to handle, as Shelton had pointed out, but she was worth it. Inwardly he groaned. It had been so long for him, but unfortunately, it was going to have to be even longer. If he was going to get her back the way he wanted her, as his wife, he was going to have to be resolute that she break things off with Grainger first. He would not share her. Reluctantly, he untangled himself from her.
She misunderstood and smiled at him, her face showing her arousal and readiness, an unmistakable invitation in those precious blue eyes. “Let’s go back to the house where we can be warm. I’ve missed you so much.” She leaned toward him to take his lips back and her hand sought him again.
He held her back, ignoring the blood pulsing in a pounding rhythm through him, his body trying to rebel against his better judgment. “No, darling girl. I’m afraid we’re back to where we started. We can’t do this, or even have a real conversation about where we go from here, until you break things off with Grainger.”
“I can’t do that to him.” Her voice sounded tortured. “Especially not now.”
He dropped his hands from her arms. “If we’re going to have a chance, I can’t be thinking that whenever you’re over there he might be making love to you. When I knew you were over there today, it was killing me.”
From the look on her face, he thought he’d hit his mark. Had they been together already today? Before she came here? His chest hurt with a sharp pressure that felt like his ribs might split. He could not ask; he didn’t know if he could handle the answer.
Blessedly, she didn’t tell him what he didn’t want to know. “I can’t just abandon him because you suddenly decided you want me again.”
“You’re not abandoning him. But you’ve been sleeping with him. And he’ll expect that to continue. Anne—you’re either still with him or you’re not.”
“I need some time. You need to trust me and let me handle this my own way.”
He could see the plea for his understanding in her eyes, but it was an understanding he could not give.
“Your own way? How does that work? You keep seeing him and me? Sleeping with both of us? Sorry, girl, that doesn’t work for me.”
When she didn’t speak, he inhaled deeply, marshaling all his strength to move away from her. He wanted to shake her, to hold her, to take her to bed and make her forget Grainger and her blasted misguided sense of duty to the other man.
He didn’t look at her as he spoke. “I have some things to finish up down at the station. I’ll be back at the house late. Jeanne gave me a key. Don’t wait up.”
DAY FIVE – WEDNESDAY
FEBRUARY 18
Chapter 47
REID WAS at the police station by nine, after first stopping at the local Catholic church for early Mass, then at the café for breakfast. He’d made sure he was out of the house before anyone else was awake. He didn’t want to see Anne or even Jeanne. Everything from last night was still too raw.
Shelton was already there talking with the chief. Reid had decided that the best way to watch out for Anne was to keep as involved in the investigation as Shelton would allow. He poured himself a cup of coffee, acting as if he was supposed to be there. No one told him to leave, though Shelton gave him a look that told Reid he wasn’t getting away with anything.
“We have the polygraph examiner from San Francisco coming in sometime after noon. I made sure we got someone with impeccable credentials, in case there are any issues.” He looked at Reid. “What did Anne say?”
“She’ll take it.”
“Good. We haven’t heard from Grainger on whether he will, but if so, we’ll have him go right after her.”
The chief spoke up. “I’m going out to the marina to meet with someone from the Coast Guard. They’re going to take me around Bodega Head so we can get an idea of where and when the body was most likely dumped in order for it to wash up where it did on the cove.” He was dressed for the job in an unzipped parka. In front of him he had a small pile comprised of gloves, stocking cap and a thick scarf. “In fact, I’d better get going now.”
After McLendon left, Shelton said, “I’ve got my team in the field following up on leads, but right now, our focus is on Andrew Grainger. With what we learned about the molestation, he makes the most sense.”
“And Anne?”
“She’s got to be looked at, as well. She may not be involved, but ten to one, she knows something. She has to have seen something, heard something, even if she doesn’t know what it was.”
Reid shook his head. “If she did, she’d tell you.”
Shelton shrugged. “We’ll see after the polygraph. Right now, I’ve got Martha Warren coming in. Now that we can pretty much rule out a stranger abduction, we can focus on the home front. And even more than Anne, Martha was there on the scene.”
“Want me to sit in?”
“No. I wouldn’t mind if you talked to your sister-in-law, though.”
“Jeanne?”
“Meg. I went through your notes on your talk with the doctor and his wife. I’d like to know if there was anything to the rumor about Graham Grainger and Marisol Grainger.”
“You think Meg would know?”
“I think she’s a good place to start.”
Reid nodded.
Shelton said, “I don’t want you to do anything. Just let me know what you find out. She’s not a suspect, so I’m not worried about not making it too official. I just want to know if there’s anything to it, and she’s more likely to relax with you.”
“I’ll have to tell her that I’ll report anything she says that helps back to you.”
“Do it however you want. I’m not convinced that Lenore’s paternity has anything to do with what happened to her, but if Andrew Grainger knew about it, it might have influenced his feelings toward the kid.”
“I’m not sure how. Child molesters don’t usually draw the line at incest. In fact, they usually start their hunting at home.”
“True. But even if it wasn’t him that molested the girl, he might have had another reason for getting rid of her. And if she wasn’t his child and was not expected to live long anyway, maybe he would have felt like she was expendable. Especially if she stood in the way of getting what he wanted.”
“Which was?” Reid wasn’t following.
Shelton went over to the oversized poster board with the case timeline and photos of the people involved in the case pinned
on it. With his finger he zeroed in on one photo.
Anne.
Chapter 48
GAZING UP at Graham and Meg Grainger’s modern house with its huge wall of glass facing the sea, Reid was struck, as he had been the first time he’d seen it years ago, by how different the two people who lived in this house were. Graham, the scientist who liked a house as cold and sterile as a laboratory, and Meg, a warm, loving woman who wanted nothing more than to have a house full of children.
Meg opened the polished steel door as soon as he got out of the car. Two little white terriers came running out to him, barking excitedly, apparently trying to lead him up the path to the house. When he reached the door, Meg welcomed him inside, raising up on tiptoes and hugging him. He was touched by what appeared to him to be the sincerity of her happiness to see him. Though they had not seen each often, Anne’s family had always welcomed him as if he was a part of their family. Meg, especially, felt like family to him. She didn’t seem to be acting any differently toward him despite her husband’s brother wanting to marry Anne—which would, of course, completely eliminate even the presently precarious position Reid had in their lives.
She led him to the kitchen and he looked around appreciatively. If anyone could make the inside of a stark modern house like this into a home, make it feel comfortable, it was Meg. According to Anne, Graham had built the house before he met Meg. When they married, Meg had convinced her husband to add the decorating touches that made the place surprisingly inviting. Now the clean wood floors were partially covered with oriental rugs and the artwork, in the form of both paintings and sculptures around the house, had been selected to add color and warmth. Meg had succeeded in taking an antiseptic glass box of a house and making it into both a showpiece and a home—though perhaps not the home she would have chosen.
She went over to the counter and turned off the electric teakettle. “I’m making us tea.” She poured the boiling water into an oriental tea pot to let it steep.
He studied her. She was so pale. Must have been that last miscarriage. “That sounds great. All I get offered over here is coffee. A nice cup of tea would hit the spot.”
“I’d forgotten how much I love the way you talk.” A smile fluttered across her gentle features. “I was beginning to think that everyone but me was going to get to see you.” Her voice got quiet. “I told Graham to ask you if you’d come see me when he was over at the Colony the other night when you were all waiting for the call from the kidnappers to come in. Did he tell you?”
“Graham?” Reid shook his head, scouring his mind for any memory of seeing Graham at the Colony house. “I didn’t see Graham there.”
She frowned, confusion in her face. “You must have. He was there until almost eleven.”
Reid didn’t know what to say. He was sure Graham Grainger had not been there that night. “I did see him when he picked up Andrew from the coroner’s, but we didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Maybe I misunderstood him.” Meg’s her hands went to her hair, smoothing it down. “Jeanne said you looked more gorgeous than ever, and she was right.” Her voice got brighter, too bright. Something was wrong.
Reid smiled. “You ladies are certainly flattering to an old policeman.”
Meg gave a little smile and started to pour the tea.
He held up his hand. “No, not quite yet. Needs a little more time to get to good strong tea.”
She laughed and put the pot down. “I guess you’d know. Let’s go sit on the couch and I’ll pour when you think it’s time.” She put the teapot, two cups, spoons, and the sugar bowl on a tray. Then she added a little dish on which she’d placed sliced lemons. “Want milk?”
He shook his head. “Let me take the tray. It weighs more than you.” He picked up the tray and carried it over to the coffee table. They sat down on the modular sofa, and she folded her legs up under her.
“So are you just visiting all of your long-neglected relatives, or did you come to talk to me about something in particular?”
“A little of both. First, tell me how you’re doing. I heard about the baby. I’m so sorry, Meg.”
“Thanks. I’m doing okay. Better. I’m hoping for another chance, another baby.” Her eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away, and gave a little laugh. “Sorry, this subject always does that to me.” She motioned for her dogs to jump up to sit with her.
Reid leaned toward the teapot. “Now it’s time. But let me pour.” He poured them both cups of tea, put lemon in hers and handed it to her.
She took the cup and met his eyes. “I heard you and Anne went out last night.”
“Aye.”
Meg brought her cup to her lips, then stopped. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but please think seriously before you do anything to encourage her.”
He didn’t say anything for a while. He knew Meg liked him but the situation was different now. “Andrew’s your husband’s brother. I understand your sympathies may be divided.”
“In this situation, my loyalty is first and last with Anne. I just want her to be happy.” She sipped her tea. “I’m very fond of you, Terrence, and I know she’s not blameless, but you haven’t done much to make her happy.”
Reid nodded, knowing she was right.
“Andrew loves her and he’s good to her. I can’t imagine him ever intentionally doing anything to cause her one moment’s pain.” She petted her dogs, watching him.
He gave a slight nod. Obviously Meg didn’t give any credence to the possibility of Andrew having killed Lenore.
“I’m just asking you to think about it long and hard, Terrence. If you’re not sure, it would be kinder to just do what you said you were going to do and end the marriage. Let her be happy with someone else.”
He felt his throat tighten, made himself tell Meg the truth. “I can’t. Not if she’ll come back to me.”
Meg sighed. “I don’t think she’ll ever be able to be the one to initiate anything that would end her ties with you. But I also don’t think she can stand to go through what happened last time again.”
“It was hard on me as well.”
“I doubt if it was the same.”
“What do you mean?” Reid suddenly sensed Meg was talking about more than the expected upset of a separation.
“She cried herself sick, couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep without pills, wouldn’t leave her room except to check the mail or run for the telephone.” Meg bowed her head over her cup, took a drink. “We had to put her in the hospital for a while. Severe depression. She was there for two weeks.”
Reid felt stunned. “No one told me. God, Meg, I would have come.”
“She was adamant no one tell you. She didn’t want you to come back out of pity.”
He tried to think about when that would have happened. What had he been doing that he hadn’t realized something was wrong? Reid rubbed circles on his temples with his thumbs. “I’m her husband. I had a right to know. You should have told me.”
“I would have if you’d called.”
He nodded; it had been his fault. How could he have expected Anne’s family to think he cared when he’d treated her the way he had?
Meg put down her cup. “When she got out, she went back to work, but she was drifting, still waiting for you. Then finally, she seemed to accept that you were never coming back, and she started seeing Andrew.” She paused. “It was so good to see her happy again.”
“And you don’t think she can be happy with me?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t been so far.”
“I want to try again. I can do better, learn from my mistakes.”
Meg blew out a breath in resignation. “I assume she’s told you she still loves you. And vice versa?”
He nodded. “But things are more complicated now.”
“Yes, now there’s Andrew. I suppose she doesn’t think she can leave him because of this awful thing that has happened to Lenore.”
“That’s about it.”
“I neve
r thought Andrew had any chance at all unless you stayed out of the picture. Part of me hoped you would, but the other part of me—because she wants you so much—hoped you’d come to your senses.”
Reid shook his head in frustration at his own ineptitude. “I can’t believe what a mess I made of everything. I just wanted the bloody woman to come live with me. Is that so unreasonable?”
Meg gave a twisted grin. “You need to work on your communication skills.”
He made a face. “That’s an understatement.”
Meg scooped one of her dogs into her lap, then gently tucked the other one against her side. “I have a feeling you didn’t come to talk to me about Anne, though. Is it about Lenore? I can’t believe such an awful thing actually happened to her. To Andrew. To all of us. We all loved her so much.”
“I know. I did have a few questions that might help out in the investigation into Lenore’s death. Do you mind?”
“Questions for me? Like what?”
Reid thought she looked a little uneasy. What could Meg possibly have to hide?
“Just some questions about Marisol Grainger.”
“Marisol? Why? That was so long ago.”
“Because of the issue with Lenore’s paternity, it could be important. It’s possible Lenore’s biological father had something to do with abducting her.”
“So they aren’t just looking at Andrew? Or Anne?”
“No, they’re looking at all possibilities.” Reid hoped that was true.
“How would Lenore being molested tie in with that?”
“It might not.”
“But you want to know if I have any idea who could have gotten Marisol pregnant?”
“Just so.”
Meg leaned back on the couch, thinking. “She seemed to be devoted to Andrew.”
“Any man that seemed particularly interested in her, or that she spent a lot of time with?”
“No one I can think of besides Andrew. Maybe someone from her ballet days? She did have her friends up to stay sometimes. Men and women.”