Hans gave me a funny look. “Yeah, why?”
“You know teenage boys. They’re not exactly quick to chat about their feelings.”
“True, but Alex sounded genuinely excited about living in town. He talked about walking to friends’ houses and school. Unless I was reading him completely wrong, he didn’t seem like he was harboring any hidden angst.”
“That’s a relief.” We inched closer in the line. “I’m sure you didn’t read him wrong. Your emotional IQ is off the charts.”
Hans smiled. “Thanks. I’ll take that as high praise from you.”
“I don’t know, Hans. I’m kind of a mess right now.”
“Are you?” He frowned and studied my face. “What’s going on?”
“I think I might be having a midlife crisis,” I confessed. Hans had become a true brother over the years. He was my most trusted confidant, and one of the only people I couldn’t hide my emotions from.
“You?” He shook his head. “No. No way. I don’t buy it. You’ve gone through a lot the last year, Sloan. Everything with Mac, a new job, a move, Alex becoming more and more independent. I know that you’re a superwoman, but you’re also human. If you weren’t feeling some level of stress, I would have to wonder if you were a robot.”
I smiled.
He squeezed my shoulder tighter, pulling me toward him. I caught a whiff of cedar and pine. “Seriously, Sloan. It’s normal for you to be stressed. I don’t think you’re having a midlife crisis, but maybe it’s time to talk to someone.”
“Yeah.”
We made it to the front of the line. Hans placed our order, buying me time to collect my thoughts. I appreciated Hans trying to normalize my fears, but I hadn’t mentioned anything about how I’d been dreaming of Marianne and now was seeing her around town. He might change his tone if he knew I was seeing imaginary people. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to seek professional help.
He balanced a plate of pretzels. “Where to next? Brats?”
“Absolutely. It’s not a Maifest without a brat.”
“Look, I’m going to drop it for now, sis, but if you need a listening ear, I’m always available. You know that, right?” His voice was tender with emotion.
“I do. Thank you.”
“Okay, I’m going to check in with you again in a few days, got it?”
“Got it.” I moved toward the brat tent and changed the conversation. By the time Hans and I made it to the Festhalle, our arms were loaded with German delicacies. I tried to let thoughts of Marianne go as I took in the sight of rows and rows of wooden picnic tables in the ornate, cavernous ballroom. Giant iron chandeliers filled the ceiling, casting a golden light on the dance floor and stage. Revelers stood shoulder to shoulder, swinging their glass beer steins to the music. It was impossible to dwell on my worries in the midst of such joy and cheer.
Garrett waved from the end of a long picnic table. He raised a beer stein. “You’re just in time. Otto and Ursula go on next.”
Hans set the food on the table. I sat down and took a stein from Garrett. We watched the Krauses perform folk dances and listened to three bands. Their energy amazed me. I hoped to be like them in my seventies. Ursula didn’t let her hip stop her. She lifted her skirts and sashayed across the stage.
Sometime after nine, Garrett went to check in on Jack and Casey. The Sip and Stroll was winding down for the evening, but the festivities would continue long into the night at the Festhalle.
“I think I’m going to head out,” I said to Hans. “I have an early start at Nitro for our overnight guests, and tomorrow is going to be a whirlwind.”
“Yeah. I’ll duck into Der Keller on my way home and make sure everything’s running well. See you at the parade?”
“For sure.” I left him with a long hug.
Stars flitted overhead, and the moon loomed large over the alpine peaks surrounding the village as I walked home. The crowds had dispersed into restaurants and bars. A cool breeze swept down from the ridgeline. Spring daytime temps in Leavenworth often reached the mid-seventies to low eighties, but nights tended to stay cool, thanks to our alpine air. It was our own version of natural air-conditioning and meant that a slight crack of a bedroom window was all that was needed for a restful night’s sleep.
I zipped my sweatshirt as I passed the gazebo and crested the hill toward the highway. Technically Highway 2 runs through the village, but it’s a two-lane road with gorgeous hotels on each side and crosswalks for pedestrians every few hundred feet. Willkommen, or welcome, pennants fluttered on antique lampposts. Music from rounded turrets and balconies serenaded me.
The walk home took less than five minutes. I still couldn’t believe I had taken the plunge on the cottage. I had fallen in love with it the minute I had done a walk-through. It reminded me of something out of the pages of “Hansel and Gretel,” with its storybook design, wraparound porch, and view of the miniature golf course from the backside of the house.
Once inside, I made myself a cup of tea and curled up with a good book. Alex was staying at Mac’s for the weekend, so I was alone. I must have drifted off at some point, because I woke with a start. My body was drenched in sweat, and I thought I heard pounding.
I must have had another nightmare. They’re getting worse.
So was the pounding.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked. Was someone at my door?
I climbed out of bed.
The banging was faster and more frantic.
I wasn’t dreaming.
I raced to the front door. My thoughts immediately went to Alex. Had something happened? Was he okay?
I half expected to open the door and see Chief Meyers standing there to tell me something horrible had happened to my son. It was a scenario I’d played out in my head hundreds of times.
But the shock was even stronger when I turned the door handle.
The woman who had run from me twice earlier was standing on my front porch with trembling hands.
“Hello?” I said, looking behind her to see if she was alone.
“Can I come in? I need to come in!” She laced her fingers together again and again, speaking in a breathless tone. “You’re in danger. We both are!”
CHAPTER
FOUR
“WHO ARE YOU?” I blocked the door frame with my body.
“I’m who you think I am. I’m Marianne.” She looked to her left, then to her right. There was something about her crazed eyes that made me wonder if she should be trusted.
“I don’t understand.”
“Sloan, please, listen to me. It’s not safe out here.”
She used my name, which brought me no comfort.
“He could be watching us.” She darted her eyes from side to side again, reminding me of a skittish cat. “He’s probably watching us. If you’ll just let me inside, I’ll explain everything.”
“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me?”
She ran her hands through her silver hair, causing it to frizz out in every direction. “Hurt you? I’m trying to protect you. A woman is dead—my God! An innocent woman! Right down the street in my hotel room, and I know why. It was supposed to be me. He’s found us. After all these years, all my work trying to keep you safe, he’s finally found us.”
She wasn’t making sense.
I considered my odds. She didn’t appear to have a weapon. That was a good sign. Plus she was at least twenty years older than me. She was about my height, with a similar oval face and olive skin. Wrinkles creased her forehead and feathered at the sides of her dark brown eyes. She was dressed in black from head to toe. Black slacks and a black trench coat, fit for a detective. Her shoulders were slightly stooped. I couldn’t tell if it was from age or fear, but I was fairly confident that if it came down to a physical battle, I could take her.
“If someone is dead, we need to call Chief Meyers.”
“Fine. Just let me in.” Her tone was frantic. She glanced behind us, her voice rising an octave. “Please. Let me i
n.”
I stepped to the side to allow her entry. Then I shut the door behind me.
“Lock it,” she insisted.
I followed her direction, wondering if I was making a mistake.
She looked at the living room, letting her eyes linger on the stone fireplace and wall of windows that faced the mini golf course and Blackbird Island. “These windows aren’t secure. Is there anywhere we can talk with more privacy?”
“The kitchen, maybe?” I pointed to the attached kitchen.
“Yes. This is good.” Marianne went straight to the large window above the sink and pulled down the shade.
“Do you need some water or tea, maybe?” I couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t stable.
“No. I’m fine.” She paced between the deep farm-style sink and butcher-block island that Hans had made for me.
Fine wasn’t the word I’d have used to describe her demeanor. Her chest caved in. She rocked slightly as she moved from the sink to the dining nook and then back again. Her fidgety movements, rubbing her hands on her slacks, and swallowing like she was trying to gulp down air, put me on high alert.
“You have to tell me what’s going on. Otherwise, I’m calling Chief Meyers right now.” I had wisely grabbed my cell phone from my bedside table when I went to answer the door. I held it up as proof.
Marianne waved her arms. “No. Not yet. You’re right. We can call the police, but you have to give me five minutes to explain myself first. You have to.” She sucked in her cheeks. “If they arrest me, I need to make sure you stay safe.”
Arrest her? She definitely wasn’t stable. This was a mistake.
“Five minutes.” I tapped the clock on my phone. “That’s it. Then I’m calling the police.”
“Sloan, give me a minute.” She clutched the counter. “It’s amazing to see you up close after all these years.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances. I’ve imagined what this reunion would look like since you were a young girl, and I never anticipated this.”
I didn’t respond.
She sighed. “Okay, I can tell that you don’t trust me, and I understand. Sloan, I’m your aunt.”
“Aunt?” I heard the word come out of my mouth, but it sounded like it belonged to someone else.
“Yes. Your aunt. You are the beloved only daughter of my younger sister, Claire.”
“Claire?” I found myself repeating the last word of Marianne’s sentences.
She brushed a tear from her cheek. “Claire was my world. She adored you. It’s hard to describe how much she loved you.”
“You’re speaking in past tense. Is Claire dead?”
A look of surprise flashed on Marianne’s face, but she recovered quickly. “Yes, she died when you were young.”
I didn’t trust myself to respond. In the same sentence, I had learned my mother’s name and that she was dead. A faint ringing echoed in my ears. My legs suddenly felt weak. I, too, clutched the countertop for support.
Marianne returned to pacing. “I took custody of you after Claire’s death, and I’m the one to blame, Sloan. I made some terrible mistakes, including bringing you here all those years ago. That fateful trip to Leavenworth turned the tide in the wrong direction.”
“I don’t understand.” I pressed my hands tighter onto the counter. Everything went blurry. Was I about to pass out?
Marianne rubbed her face and scratched the top of her head, sending her long gray hair into wild, frayed strands. “No, you wouldn’t, and I know we need to call the police, so let me give you the brief recap so that you can understand the gravity of the situation.”
I wondered if I should call Chief Meyers right now, but after forty years of not knowing anything about my past, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“I got your letters. I’ve been formulating a plan for the last six months.” She stared at a vase of sunflowers resting next to the sink. “I know you’ve been working with Sally, and I know she means well, but she made a mistake in reopening your files. I’m the one who destroyed them, Sloan. It was my only choice, otherwise he would have gotten them.”
“Who?” I found myself struggling with how to respond.
“Forest.”
“You mean the man who tried to swindle Otto and Ursula?” My voice sounded quaky, like it didn’t belong to me.
“Yes, but it’s so much more than that. He’s dangerous, Sloan. He’s a killer, and he’ll kill again.” She froze. “Did you hear something?”
“No.”
She pressed her finger to her lip. We stood in silence. The faint sound of music from the Maifest tents echoed in the distance, but otherwise it was quiet.
Marianne waited a minute longer. “Sloan, Forest has been in prison for many, many years, but I have some disturbing news. He was released a few months ago. He’s coming after you.”
“Me? Why?” The ringing sound in my ears was getting worse.
“This is where the story is long and complicated. Forest was arrested when we were here in Leavenworth all those years ago. Don’t you remember?” She squinted, studying my reaction.
I shook my head.
“Okay, well, I thought we were going to be okay, but the charges against him didn’t stick. That’s why I had to do what I did. He has very powerful friends, and he’ll stop at nothing to get to you.”
“Slow down.” I held out my palm. “This makes no sense. First, how old is Forest now? He must be well into his sixties.”
Marianne nodded. “He is, but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. He’s had a single mission to kill you. That’s why I did what I did. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She wouldn’t stop moving. “I placed you in the foster care system. I knew it was going to be hard on you. It was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, you have to believe me, but it was my only choice. It was the only way to hide you. If I had kept you, he would have found us and killed us both.”
She broke down in tears. Her shoulders collapsed.
I gave her a moment to compose herself. “Would you like a tissue?” I moved to the breakfast nook and handed her the box.
“Thank you. I’m sorry to be so emotional. It’s just that I’ve watched you from afar for all these years, and to be here with you now is overwhelming.” She dried her eyes with a tissue, then balled it up in her fist. “Like I said, Claire and I were always close. She was my best friend. We never fought. I know that sounds strange for sisters, but we were each other’s cheerleaders. I was there with her the day you were born. Her heart broke open in the most beautiful way. I’d never seen her as happy as when she was with you. I felt the same. I got to be the doting aunt, and you were the best baby. You came into this world an old soul.”
Her words took my breath away. That was how I always described Alex.
“When she died, I made a promise to myself to raise you as she would have. Leaving you that day was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.” She started to reach her hand to me, hesitated, then clutched the tissue.
I wanted to comfort her, but it was too much. I wasn’t sure what to believe, and I still wasn’t convinced that she was in a solid state of mind.
“I don’t get the Forest connection. Why is he after me?”
She swallowed hard, as if trying to find the courage to let the words out. “He killed your mother. He murdered Claire, and you were the only witness.”
CHAPTER
FIVE
“WHAT?” I RECOILED AT her words. A heaviness invaded my chest, like my breath was being sucked away. I had witnessed my mother’s murder?
Marianne moved toward me. She placed her hand on my forearm. Her touch was strangely familiar. “Sloan, you were the sole witness to your mother’s murder. You don’t remember?”
I shook my head. My early childhood memories were fuzzy at best. “No. Not at all.”
“They said that could happen. That’s good. Yeah, that’s good. It’s a protection your brain provides for you. I’m gl
ad of that. It brings me some relief.” She stared off behind me as if speaking to someone else.
“And you think Forest is here now? How did he find me?” This was a lot to take in.
“I don’t know.” She shook her head and massaged her temples. “I thought we were careful. We moved you often. We never let you stay at one home longer than a year.” She trailed off. “I feel so awful for that poor woman who was killed because of me.”
I had a barrage of questions circling my head, but I needed to focus and to get her to do the same. She was all over the map. “What woman? Who is dead?”
“The housekeeper at the Hotel Vierter Stock, where I’m staying. I don’t know how he found me. I told you he has powerful connections. That poor innocent woman didn’t deserve to die.”
“Wait, Marianne, you’re telling me that one of the housekeeping staff is dead?”
“Yes! Don’t you understand what I’m saying? You’re in grave, grave danger!” Her frenzied tone had returned. “I got back to my room and found her on the floor. That’s when I ran here. I thought he might have already gotten to you.”
“We have to call Chief Meyers.” I picked up my phone.
“I know.” She sounded resigned. Then, as I placed the call to the chief, she muttered something under her breath that I couldn’t make out.
Chief Meyers asked for Marianne’s room number, told me to stay put, and said that she would be in touch as soon as she’d had a chance to assess the situation.
“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” I asked, walking to the stove to heat up the teakettle.
“As long as it’s no trouble, tea might be good.” Marianne picked up a framed photo of Alex and me snowshoeing last winter.
“Not at all.” I opened a canister of assorted teas and offered it to her, then I grabbed two ceramic mugs. “So you think Forest meant to kill you, but killed the housekeeper instead?”
The Cure For What Ales You Page 4