by Kathi Daley
“How can I help you?” Sue asked after unlocking the door and ushering me inside.
“I came across a Mother’s Day card that had been sent to Edna Fairchild from someone who signed the card as ‘The Prodigal Child.’ I’d like to inform this person that Edna has died, so I’m trying to locate them. I’ve done some research and found out Edna had a son, Chip. It appears you may have known him, and I hoped you’d know how to get hold of him.”
Sue narrowed her gaze, appearing hesitant to speak. I decided to wait quietly while she took a moment to process her thoughts. The overhead lights reflected off her now-blond hair as her green eyes honed on something across the shop. I glanced in the same direction but couldn’t pick out what she’d been looking at.
At last she began to speak. “I did know Chip. We went to high school together, and while we had friends in common, I wouldn’t exactly say we were good friends. I can probably fill in a few blanks for you, though I have no idea how to reach him now.”
“Anything you can tell me might help.”
Sue sat down on one of the chairs surrounding a large rectangular table, gesturing for me to join her there. The shop was cozy, with a lot of homey accents from the handcrafted goods made by the men and women who frequented the store. My favorite was a tapestry of a bear standing in a flower-covered meadow, with the majestic mountains that framed the area towering behind. It seemed amazing to me that the work felt like a painting but was made entirely from small pieces of fabric sewn together.
I turned my attention to Sue as soon as she began to speak. “His real name was Greg, and he moved to White Eagle during his sophomore year of high school. Although I didn’t know why at the time, it was quickly evident he had a chip on his shoulder, which not only earned him his nickname, but also made him something of an outcast.”
“What do you mean by a chip on his shoulder?”
“He was prone to explosive anger. Additionally, he was a small kid, several inches shorter than boys his age, so it wasn’t surprising he had a hard time making friends. What he seemed to be good at was making enemies; he managed to pile up quite a few of those during the first half year he lived here.”
“Any idea where the anger came from?”
Sue nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time, although I eventually discovered the fuel that seemed to set the flame. But I’m getting to that. I think you need the background first.”
“Of course. I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“During the summer between Chip’s sophomore and junior years, one of the local boys took mercy on him and went out of his way to strike up a friendship with him. Having a friend seemed to mellow Chip, and by the time school started in the fall, he had a group of friends and a decent social life.”
“Do you remember the name of the person who befriended him?”
“Rupert Hanson.”
“Mike spoke to Rupert. He didn’t mention knowing Chip’s real name or anything about him.”
“Rupert is the sort to stay out of things. If Mike spoke to him, he would most likely have answered his questions selectively, and he wouldn’t have volunteered anything. I used to think he was being intentionally difficult, but it’s just his way to keep what he knows, thinks, and feels close to the vest.”
“Okay, back to Chip. He and Rupert became friends…”
“They were, though things were dicey after the gun incident.”
I leaned forward slightly. “I found records that suggested Chip was expelled from high school during his senior year for pulling a gun on another student. I assume that’s what you mean?”
Sue nodded. “It is. I’m getting to it.”
“Of course.” I sat back. “Please continue.”
“Chip had a growth spurt the summer before his senior year, so by the time school started he was almost six feet tall. He’d begun to settle in and no longer seemed so angry and defensive. I was dating Rupert at the time, although that didn’t last long, so for a while I ran into Chip at parties and other gatherings. It seemed as if things were looking up for Chip; then his father ended up in the news and everything went to hell.”
“His father?”
“Dorian Fairchild. He was convicted of killing six women in three states the year before Edna and Chip moved to White Eagle.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my God. That’s awful.”
“It was awful for everyone involved. After Fairchild was convicted, Chip changed his last name, but Edna insisted she’d married the man and was bound to him in good times and bad and refused to give up the name she received on her wedding day. Looking back, I think Edna’s insistence on maintaining her marriage to a man who was no better than a monster was at the root of Chip’s problems with his mother.”
“I guess I can understand that. Chip probably wanted to put that part of his life behind him. His mother’s refusal to let go most likely made a totally new start impossible.”
Sue nodded. “That might have been at least part of what eventually tore them apart. While they moved to White Eagle with the hope of starting over, Chip couldn’t completely deny his father’s existence as long as his mother refused to get a divorce.”
I took a moment to let that sink in. Wow. Poor Chip. “You said his father ended up in the news. Why?”
“It seemed that as part of his plea deal to avoid the death penalty, he agreed to provide the names and burial sites of all his victims, but there was one victim he didn’t admit to killing. An investigator who wouldn’t give up on the idea that Fairchild had killed that young woman found the body and was able to demonstrate the similarities between the methods used to kill her and the six women Fairchild had admitted to killing. The media, doing what they do, not only plastered the news with images of Dorian Fairchild, but there were photos of Edna and Chip in all the regional newspapers. When the local kids found out Chip was the son of a serial killer, some of them were less than kind.”
I was afraid I could see where this was going, and I didn’t like it a bit.
“There was one boy, Larry Jorgenson, who began taunting Chip about having demon blood. It was cruel and uncalled for, but Larry was a big, popular kid, so most of the others didn’t do anything to stick up for Chip. Poor Chip’s world fell apart. As the taunting continued, he became increasingly angry and withdrawn. He began cutting school, not that I blamed him. I wouldn’t have wanted to subject myself to the bullying either.”
“Couldn’t the school administration do anything to protect Chip from kids like Larry?”
Sue shrugged. “What could they do? Larry was careful not to taunt Chip when teachers were around. It was his word against Larry’s, and without proof, there was little anyone could do other than talk to both Larry and his parents, which they did.”
“It’s so unfair this poor kid had to suffer for the sins of his father.”
“I agree. Looking back, I wish I would have done more to help Chip, but I was a kid too, and my instinct was to stay out of things. Anyway, the bullying went on, and Chip became increasingly aggressive. I’m not sure what finally made him snap, but one day in January, he showed up in school with a gun and held it to Larry’s head. I’m not sure if he intended to shoot him or if he was just warning him to back off, but his stunt resulted in his being expelled. Chip spent some time in juvie. When he got out, he hooked up with some older kids and started getting into all kinds of trouble. His mom was in over her head, unable to control his actions. They fought constantly. Eventually, Chip left town, and no one in White Eagle has seen him again.”
I felt a catch of emotion at the back of my throat. “That’s some story.”
“It was tragic, really. I can’t imagine having to live in the shadow of the horrible man he’d once called Daddy. I hope you can find Chip. I heard his monster of a father died in prison a few years after Chip left town. I suppose that might have allowed him to move on and build another life using, I imagine, another name. The fact that he reached out to Edna after all this time seems signifi
cant to me. I’d hate to think he would show up to their special place on Mother’s Day only to have her not appear. If he doesn’t know she’s dead, he’ll probably think she refused to forgive him. That would be a tragedy all over again.”
“I agree. And I’m going to try to find him. Thanks for sharing all this.”
Sue placed her hand on my arm and gave it a squeeze. “No problem. I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
While I’d been interested in finding Chip and informing him of his mother’s death before, now that I understood his background, my interest had morphed into dogged determination.
Chapter 6
Tony was out in the yard with Titan and the kittens when Tilly and I arrived. The snow had melted in his yard, and I’d noticed when I was there the day before that he’d begun his spring-cleaning, but today it appeared he had something different in mind. His table saw was set up on the deck and there was a pile of wood nearby, as well as bags of soil, mulch, and fertilizer, and gallon cans of what looked to be herbs.
“Planting a garden?” I asked as Tilly ran to Titan with her tail wagging.
“A patio garden. I’ve been trying to cook more often, rather than going for my traditional menu of frozen pizza and boxed mac and cheese. It occurred to me that it would be both convenient and cost effective to grow my own herbs. I wanted something close to the kitchen, so I decided to build planter boxes on the deck near the slider off the kitchen. If the herbs work out, I may try some tomatoes, and maybe some peppers and carrots as well.”
“That’s really awesome. I knew you had a few go-to dishes you liked to cook, but I had no idea you knew one herb from another.”
Tony raised a brow. “I’m Italian. Of course I can cook.”
I laughed. “I wasn’t aware that being Italian automatically meant you could cook.”
Tony grinned. “I guess the two aren’t automatically linked, but my nona is a great cook, and she taught me how to get around in the kitchen at an early age. If you hadn’t had to hurry off this morning, I could have made you one of my famous egg-white omelets.”
“I don’t have anything going on tomorrow, so I could stay over again tonight,” I hinted. “In fact, if you want to feed me all weekend, I’d be happy to oblige your culinary urges.”
Tony wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. “That’s very generous of you. I might just take you up on that.” Tony returned to the boards he was arranging now that he’d cut them to size. “Any dinner requests?”
“How about something Italian? Spaghetti?”
Tony grinned. Streaks of dirt marred his unshaven cheeks as small beads of sweat lingered on his neck. “I can do that. I want to finish this section so I can plant the herbs I’ve already purchased. You can help if you want.”
I tossed the backpack I used for a purse on the picnic table. “Okay. What can I do?”
Tony looked at my feet, which were bare except for flip-flops. “You might want to put on some tennis shoes. I’d hate for you to smash a toe. And maybe long pants so you don’t scrape up your legs.”
“It’s too hot for pants.” I looked to Tony’s long legs, which were covered in worn jeans that hung low on his hips. The man really did grunge up nice. I was used to Tony being clean-shaven and freshly showered, and his work with computers rarely led to muddy or sweaty streaks. I liked unkempt Tony. Very primal. “I’ll go inside and put on tennis shoes. Can I get you something? A beer?”
“A beer would be great.”
I paused and glanced back through the sliding glass door as Tony returned to his hammer and nails. It wasn’t that I’d never seen him get his hands dirty before, but today he seemed entirely different. I suppose part of me still saw Tony as the nerd I’d first met in the seventh grade, but while he was as smart as he ever was, physically he’d transformed into something so much more. My temperature on the rise, I ran upstairs, grabbed a pair of tennis shoes, pulled them on my feet, and headed down to grab the beers to help Tony turn his back deck into a garden.
For the next few hours, we sawed, nailed, planted, and watered. By the time the sun had curved around to line up for its descent behind the mountain, Tony had a garden that not only softened the harsh lines of the wooden deck but lent a scent to the area that I knew was going to be heavenly throughout the summer. We shared a bottle of wine on the outdoor table, admiring our work, as Titan and Tilly romped on the lawn. I don’t think either of us intended to stay out on the deck as long as we did, but after a day of labor, watching the sun set behind the mountain at the far end of the lake while we sipped wine and discussed the most appropriate vegetables to add to the garden boxes that hadn’t been planted with herbs seemed just about as perfect an end to a day as I’d experienced in a long time.
After the sun set, we went inside to shower. Separately, of course. It took me longer to deal with washing my long hair, so by the time I joined Tony in the kitchen, he had a pot of spaghetti sauce simmering on the stovetop and a sink full of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, and radishes, waiting to be washed and chopped for a salad.
I’d put on clean jeans and a T-shirt, but my feet were bare and my hair, still damp, hung down my back. “Something smells wonderful.”
“I had sauce in the freezer, so all I had to do was heat it up. And I had bread that just needed to be baked and ingredients for the salad. Wine?”
I knew I should say no. We’d already shared a bottle on the deck, but I wasn’t driving home, and wine, especially a red, did bring out the flavor of the sauce I just knew was going to be mouthwatering. “Are you trying to make me light-headed so you can beat me in the game?” I teased.
“Maybe.” Tony’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Is it working?”
“Not yet, and yes, I’d love some wine.” I waited while Tony poured me a glass. “Can I help?”
“I think I’ve got it. You can sit here on the barstool and talk to me while I cook.”
I slipped onto the stool. “I can do that. It was fun helping you today. I’ve been thinking about doing some renovations to my cabin, but I don’t know where to start. I don’t have a lot of money to spend, but I feel like my living space needs some work, and now that I’ve seen your deck, I’m fantasizing about my own patio garden. I’d plant flowers rather than herbs because I don’t really cook, but it sure would be nice to look out the window and see a colorful garden every day. Was the wood expensive?”
“Not at all. In fact, I have a lot more than I’ll ever use. I considered cutting it up for kindling, but if you want some boxes for your deck, you can use my excess. Maybe I can come by next week and we can get started.”
I grinned. “Really? That would be awesome. I’m supposed to meet Brady at the lake on Monday for session two of the terrier swimming project, but Tuesday would work for me.”
“Tuesday is fine for me as well. I’ll come over early and get set up. Maybe I’ll follow you home tomorrow so I can draw up some plans and take some measurements. It’d be easiest to cut the boards here and then bring them to your place ready to install.”
“Works for me. And thanks, Tony. This really has been an awesome day.”
After he popped the bread into the oven, he put up some water for the noodles to boil and began assembling the salad. I kept up my end of the bargain by chatting about this and that as he worked. Chip’s whereabouts and the questions I had for Tony regarding what if any information he might have uncovered since that morning were tickling my mind in a most annoying way, but the day and evening had been so perfect so far, I decided to wait to bring up that subject until after we finished dinner.
I set the table while Tony drained the pasta. After he sliced the bread I found a basket for it, then set the salad bowl in the middle of the table while Tony served up two large plates of pasta and sauce and set them down on the placemats I’d found in the drawer where I thought he kept his napkins.
“So good,” I groaned as I took my first bite of the absolutely-to-die-for meat sauce. “I can’
t believe you had this just lurking in your freezer.”
“Most of the time it’s just me to eat whatever I make, so I freeze the rest to heat up when I have less time or less inclination to start from scratch.”
I took another bite, appreciating the flavors as they tantalized my tongue. “I had no idea. I think raiding your freezer is going to be one of my new routines whenever I come over. Most nights, I settle for canned soup or frozen dinners. And not this sort of frozen dinner. The actual frozen dinners that come in cardboard containers.”
After we’d devoured the pasta, bread, and salad, I helped Tony clean up. There was something comforting about putting away leftovers and wiping counters while he loaded the dishwasher. I liked living alone, and most of the time it never occurred to me that doing something as mundane as cleaning the kitchen alongside another person could be so gratifying.
Once the kitchen was clean, we pulled on jackets and wandered outside to give the dogs a bathroom break. It was completely dark now, but Tony had bright deck lights, and the dogs knew not to wander far unless someone was with them.
“I’ve had the best day and hate to even bring this up, but did you manage to find anything new on Chip’s whereabouts?”
“Maybe. I was going to talk to you about some leads that may not wind up anywhere once followed, but like you, the day seemed too perfect to bring up the mystery before now.”
“Before you begin, I spoke to Sue Wade. If you remember, she was in the photo you found of the teens standing on the high-school football field in the yearbook. She had some interesting yet alarming things to share.” I took the next several minutes to go over everything Sue had told me. Tony’s expression grew grim as I described the bullying Chip had suffered at the hands of Larry Jorgenson. By the time I’d shared everything, the dogs had finished their wandering, so we headed inside.