by Stephen Bly
“Mr. Shadowbrook, I also appreciate your giving us that information about my father. A strange thing, it’s a relief. All these years I felt in my heart something like that happened, so it came as no shock. But now it’s settled, although I’ll always wonder how he could so easily leave my mother and me. You will stop by before you leave next week, won’t you, Price?”
“Sure will. We’ll be praying about those college classes.”
Melody gave Price and Tony a big hug and walked her mother to her car before she retired to the garage loft.
Tony dried the dishes as Price swept the floor. “I’m looking forward to getting back into my own kitchen.”
“How many more books do we have in this series?”
“Five. But I bet you’ll be anxious to leave Scottsdale by next June.”
“I suppose so. I have two novels to write before then.”
“Are you bragging or complaining?”
“Neither. I do think for once it will be more peaceful at home than here.”
“Especially when the girls and I are busy at school.” Price hung the ‘I Hate to Housekeep’ tea towel on the rack and tugged off her apron. “I’m beat. Could you put that stack of dishes away and take Jessica’s x-ray to the downstairs files? I’m going to bed before I fall asleep standing up.”
“So, the middle-aged college prof is weary?”
“Ugh. I still can’t get used to being called middle-aged. But tonight I feel every minute of forty-nine.”
“Save me a warm, snuggy place,” Tony called out. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The sheet and blanket covered her like cool cotton heaven. Price was only vaguely aware Tony hadn’t come to bed yet.
Softly glowing red digital numbers of the clock radio on the nightstand read 3:23. Price blinked twice, reached out, and felt an empty pillow beside her. “Tony?”
She fumbled to find the light switch. The sixty-five-watt bulb seemed like a police interrogation as she tried to shield her eyes. She dug through the closet for her old white terrycloth robe and mauve slippers and padded out to the living room.
A dim stream of light glowed from the stairs to the lower level of the hillside home. She inched across the room, clutched the rail, and eased down the stairs one at a time, peering into the large main room on the downstairs level. She found Tony on his knees in the back corner of the basement digging through the bottom of a four-drawer black file cabinet. File folders and assorted papers stacked and piled all around him.
He glanced up, stood to his feet, stretched his back and rubbed his eyes.
“What in the world are you still doing down here? Don’t you know what time it is?”
“I’m on the trail of solving a great mystery.”
“What are you talking about? It’s 3:30 in the morning.”
“I’m looking for something.”
“But that’s Mrs. Reynolds’ personal files. I don’t remember us getting permission to rifle through them.”
“I know. But I thought about the options, and this seemed the right thing to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tony yawned. “How about you going upstairs and fixing me a cup of coffee?”
“All I want to do is go back to bed. Come on, whatever it is can certainly wait until morning.”
“Wrong. Fix us something to drink. In Melody’s words, I’ve got something to show you that will absolutely knock your socks off.”
“I’m not wearing socks.”
“Well, I’ve got an absolute shocker for you.”
“What’s it about?”
“Jessica Reynolds. I’ll be right up.”
Price got accustomed to the kitchen light about the time the water finally boiled. She plopped down at the counter and basked in the steam that rolled up from the white porcelain cup as Tony bounded into the room. “I need to keep looking a little longer, but I’m into the last drawer,” he announced.
“What’s this so-called news that can’t wait?” she prodded.
“Well, I carried the x-ray down to the files to store, but first, I decided to take a glance at it myself.”
Price grimaced. “Um, to look at the break in her hip?”
“I was just curious, but here’s the thing.” Tony held the x-ray up to the kitchen light. “Look down her leg bones. What do you see?”
“Tony, this is an invasion of privacy.”
“Yeah, maybe. But look. On the left. That would be her right leg, broken some time about four inches below the knee. Must have been a severe break to still show up like that.” Tony’s voice began to rise in pitch and intensity. “Then look at the left leg. Another break above the knee an inch or two.”
“So, Jessica broke her legs, too?”
“That’s what I surmise. Thought I’d call the hospital tomorrow and see if I could get someone to confirm that analysis.”
“Wait.” Price blinked her eyes hard. “Aren’t those the same locations where Jessica said Jill broke her legs during the ferry accident?”
“Exactly.”
“So, what does it mean?” Price sipped Lemon Zinger tea as she deliberated the x-ray in front of her.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m still up. I’ve been trying to figure this out. Here’s my list.”
“What list?”
“Of the different possibilities.”
“Tony Shadowbrook making lists? You’re sounding like me.”
“You taught me a few things.”
“Well, maybe this would be a good time to discuss chapter five,” she teased.
“Don’t change the subject. Here’s what I figure … either one, these are not breaks, and the x-ray can be interpreted another way. Or two, Jessica broke her legs in the very same place Jill broke hers. Or three, it was Jessica, not Jill, who broke her legs.”
“Well, Mr. Holmes, which theory do you support?”
“At this point, I’m convinced those lines represent old breaks in the bones. But that can’t be proven until I call the hospital. Second, I don’t believe it’s probable for Jessica to have broken both legs in the exact same place, even for identical twins.”
“And not tell anyone.”
“Right.”
“You think it was Jessica who actually broke her legs, not Jill?”
“Perhaps.”
“Maybe the newspaper got the account wrong. I imagine identical twins could have all sorts of mix-ups like that.”
“That’s what I was thinking. She never told Barbara about breaking her legs and she let us believe the mistaken article.”
“It wouldn’t be the first one this summer.”
“Right. But here’s what’s keeping me up. Cherry’s mother, Patsy Mitchell, who came over with that writers’ critique group, insisted she rode to school with Jessica while Jill stayed at home with broken legs.”
“I thought Jessica said she stayed home too.”
“Mrs. Mitchell insists that wasn’t so.” Tony closed his eyes and slurped his coffee.
“So, Jessica broke her legs. But why does everyone, including Jessica, say it was Jill? What if, for some schoolgirl reason, after the ferry accident the girls decided to switch names for a while?”
“Yeah, maybe. But remember, Mom and Dad Davenport were still alive then. Parents can tell twins apart, even when others can’t. And Mrs. Mitchell said their personalities set them apart.”
“If Jessica broke her legs, instead of Jill, what does that tell us, besides she’s been covering it up all these years?”
“Hang on to your hat, kid….”
“I’m not wearing a hat.”
“Well, get ready for this.” Tony sipped coffee and held the warm mug against his cheek. “What if … it really was Jill who broke her legs?”
“Wait a minute, you just said the x-ray proved it was Jessica.”
“No, my dear Dr. Shadowbrook, I said the x-ray may prove it was Melody’s grandmother whose legs were broken.”
“Why do
I feel like I’m in the middle of an Abbott and Costello skit? Melody’s grandmother is Jessica.”
“What if … Melody’s grandmother … is really Jill, not Jessica Davenport?”
“Are you saying the twins switched their identities sometime after their folks died? When did they do that? And why?” Price shuffled to the stove and poured another cup of hot water.
“That’s what I’m trying to solve.”
“What are you looking for in the files? A diary or something?”
“Perhaps. Or maybe a death certificate.”
“From the accident? Good heavens, Tony, are you inferring it was Jessica who died in that Iowa car wreck, not Jill?”
“That thought has been haunting me all night.”
“But that means…” Price’s mouth dropped open.
“It might mean that Mr. Bennington is Barbara’s father and Melody’s grandfather.”
They sat still in the stunned silence.
“Do you think so?” Price finally whispered.
“It’s all speculation. But what if a pregnant, unwed Jill Davenport were to come home in shame to this closed little community of 1942, and suddenly find her newly married identical twin sister dead? The sister’s husband was off fighting in Europe, and might not survive the war.”
“So she switches identities on the way home to explain her pregnancy. None of the family is left to identify her, and she fools her friends.”
“But what about Reynolds?”
“They had only known each other for a couple months before they got married, and then he goes off to war for three years. When he returns, his wife is different. He’s different … and … they have a daughter.”
“But if she fooled him, why did he blackmail the navy and leave?”
“Perhaps he didn’t really love her. He loved the real Jessica. Remember, Mrs. Mitchell said their personalities were different.”
“So you think he could have deserted her and the baby because he didn’t like the changes and he didn’t know there had been a switch?”
“Could be. Divorce or desertion wasn’t popular in the forties.”
“But what about the child? I’d think little Barbara would keep him close.”
“Unless…”
“… he discovered something that proved Jill deceived him?”
“Therefore, Barbara wasn’t his daughter. What would he have found to prove that?”
“Let’s say, some sort of document. For instance, what if there was a death certificate from the Iowa coroner stating it was Jessica, not Jill, who died?”
“She surely would have destroyed such a document.”
“Not necessarily. She might not have known if she could pull off the ruse. If it came out in the open, or if she changed her mind when she got here, she’d have the evidence of what really happened.”
“Maybe she was going to play the charade until Reynolds returned. But by then, it was too late.”
“Perhaps.” Tony retreated to the stove for another cup of instant coffee.
“If that’s true, it helps explain why Melody’s grandmother lost knowledge of art. She wasn’t the painter.”
“She was just the reflection.”
“And the change in personalities? She didn’t change if she’s Jill.”
“And she became reclusive so she could continue to hide her actions.”
“And it might explain why she was so stunned and upset to hear the name Bennington after all these years. It would certainly justify her ‘hah.’”
“Hah?”
“When Melody told her about the flowers at the grave, she just said ‘hah.’”
“The grave!” Tony slapped the palm of his hand on the table. “J Davenport. Melody said her Grandma Jessie only put J Davenport on the stone because she didn’t want to see her sister’s name up there. She didn’t want to see her own name.”
“And if she ever got discovered, she could have the stone completed with Jessica’s name, instead of her own.”
Price and Tony gaped at each other until she broke the spell. “Mr. Shadowbrook, is it true that it’s extremely late at night and you haven’t had any sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Is it true you spend most of your life writing fiction?”
“Yes.”
“Could it be we’re way off course here and plotting a new novel series or something? Maybe we’re missing a perfectly logical and obvious explanation.”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you come to bed, and we’ll see what it looks like when we’re both awake?”
“I can’t. I have to finish looking in those files. I want to put all the stuff back before Melody uses the downstairs bath.”
“Should we tell her any of this?”
“Not a thing until we have more proof. This would be a horrible emotional ride if I turned out to be wrong, especially after dumping the other news tonight. If I can’t find that death certificate, I’ll call the coroner’s office in Iowa and see if I can get a copy of the original.”
“Let’s suppose you gather all the evidence, what do you do then? Tell Melody? Tell Barbara? Do you confront Jessica? She’s liable to have a stroke or something.”
“You’re right,” he mumbled, “you’re very right.”
She grinned. “About chapter five?”
“No, about looking at it more clearly after we’ve had some sleep. I’ll go down and shove those papers back. I can continue the search tomorrow night.”
“You promise you’ll come to bed this time?”
“Yeah, but I won’t promise I’ll get to sleep.”
Chapter 10
Lila Acheson taught at Fox Island’s Benbow School in 1910. Later, she moved to New York and married Dewitt Wallace. They pioneered a new type of magazine, which became fairly successful as the journal Reader’s Digest. Fox Island housed the famous (Spencer Tracy vacationed there) and the infamous, such as Tacoma’s girls of the night, who R&R’d at the Longhouse at the west end of Kamus Drive. Dixie Lee Ray, Washington’s first and only woman governor, spent her childhood years exploring Fox Island from the family campsite. The Island became her permanent home when she retired from politics in 1981.
Fox Island still offers its charms to the renowned and nefarious.
“And I say we can’t tell her yet,” Price insisted. “We’ve got to have an objective piece of concrete evidence. This is shattering news if it’s true, and a cruel joke if it isn’t.”
Tony flopped the large, hard sided Samsonite onto the unmade bed and unfastened it. “So, you think we should just hop on the plane and fly away from it all? I think Melody’s tough enough to handle this. And how about Barbara?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think we should tell Melody first. How about you?”
“I think we should wash the linens and towels and replace them before we make the bed.” Price stared at the closet. “Are you sure we can fit all this into four suitcases?”
Tony pulled on his chocolate brown cowboy boots and tossed his wooden bootjack into the open suitcase. “There, I’m packed.”
“Very funny.”
“Honey, I’ve stewed over this all week. We have to tell Melody. We’ve got to be honest with what we think we know. It’s eating away at me. At least we can show her what we found. She could trace it down further if she wants.”
“We’ve gotten so close to her. Maybe we could write it in a letter and have her decide.”
“You know I couldn’t do that. I’ve got to look ’em in the eye when I talk to them. And if we try to ignore it, the summer will seem incomplete. I know it will be tough on her at first. It would be devastating to anyone.”
Price stood straight in front of her husband, clothed in slip and hose, a full foot shorter. “We do have one thing complete.”
“What’s that?”
She hugged him tight. “We have finished a very fine book.”
He held her close and kissed her hair that smelled squeaky
clean and fresh, like she washed it with baby shampoo. “Yep. ’Course, it did take us until midnight last night.”
“And we still have to deal with the celebrated chapter five.” She backed away and pulled on her denim skirt and fringed white blouse.
“I told you. We’ll settle that on the plane ride home.”
“I pity those who sit around us.”
“Babe, now don’t say that. It’s really not that complicated. I know it’s going to work out.”
“I don’t know how you can be so confident. Are you planning a sneak attack, an ambush when my guard’s down?”
“Anthony Shadowbrook is a straight shooter, ma’am,” he drawled.
“Yeah, so far, but you haven’t made it to the end of the trail yet, buckaroo.”
The phone ring simultaneous with a shout from the kitchen: “I’ll get it.”
“Melody’s here?” Price gasped.
“Did she hear what we said?”
After a minute Melody shouted again, “It’s Kathy… and I’ve about got breakfast fixed for you.”
“Melody’s cooking?” Tony whispered.
Price picked up the tan Princess phone near the bed. “Hi, Kath, what’s up, honey?”
“It’s going to be so great having you home. And don’t worry. Everything’s real clean.”
“Except for the backyard behind the tool shed.”
“Kit?”
“I’m on the other phone.”
“What’s this about the tool shed?”
“That’s where I’m keeping Pugie.”
“Pugie?”
“The calf Pop and I rescued. I named him after Puget Sound. The animal shelter didn’t have room, so they let me keep it until they locate the owner. Don’t worry, it hasn’t been a problem.”
“Except once,” Kathy corrected.
“What do you mean, once?”
“I’ll tell you what happened at the Greenwells’ when you get home.”
“Our neighbors, the Greenwells?”
“Mom, it’s no big deal. Trust me.”
Price let out a deep sigh. Trust me? Did they learn that from their dad?
“Mom, we wanted to tell you,” Kathy continued, “Josh is going to pick you guys up at the airport instead of me and Kit.”
“That’s fine, but is something wrong? Are you two getting along?”