The Truth About Family

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Not to mention, they hadn’t exactly been responsible sexually. She sent a look to the ceiling, wondering if she’d left her brain back at her apartment in San Francisco. Ever since she came back to Granite Hills she’d been doing all sorts of things that in another lifetime she would’ve considered absolutely nuts.

  Way to complicate things, she mused darkly.

  Still, she didn’t regret it. She smiled as the reminiscence washed over her. A floorboard creaked beneath her as she started toward the bed and she stopped. Something about the sound triggered a hazy image. Bending down, she ran her fingers along the roughened plank and pressed. It creaked in response. Drawing her eyebrows together, she gave the wood a solid knock, then tapped the floorboard beside it. Hollow. Pulling at the plank with her fingers and ignoring the shot of pain that followed, she grunted with the effort it took to pry the board loose. It opened with a cloud of dust and Erin had to clear the air with her hand before she could peer into the small hole.

  Thoughts of spiders and rats made her hesitate to stick her hand into the darkened space, but curiosity overrode her fear and she reached in slowly.

  At first she felt nothing but cold dirt, then her grasping fingers closed on something oddly shaped. It was hard and smooth and when she brought it out of the hole she nearly dropped it.

  It was the dragonfly of her dream.

  Colin appeared in the doorway. “I thought I heard something….” He spied the wooden piece in her hand. “Where’d you find that?”

  “In the floor,” she said, still staring at the delicately carved, incredibly detailed insect.

  Carved from American basswood, nearly white despite its age, it was finely shaped and nearly perfect. Colin knelt beside her. “It almost looks real,” he said, echoing Erin’s own thoughts. “Whoever did this is a true artist. How’d you know it was in the floor?”

  “I think I put it there,” she answered slowly, turning to catch Colin’s surprise. “I mean, I don’t remember exactly, but I remember the creaking floorboard and that made me take a look. The question is why would I put something this beautiful in the floor?”

  She searched her memory for the answer to her own question but nothing revealed itself. A growl of frustration escaped. “Ever since coming back here, it seems I’ve been discovering holes in my memory. Why can’t I remember anything? I mean, I thought I was pretty good in the memory department, but there are things I can’t explain and it’s driving me crazy.”

  Replacing the floorboard, Colin helped her to her feet. “Listen, it’s fairly common for people who’ve lived through traumatic events to have ‘holes’ in their memory. It’ll come back to you but it might come in fragments.”

  Seems like fragments were all she had these days. Sighing, she took a final look around the room yet knew somehow there was little else to find. Her fingers closed around the dragonfly in some desperate hope her memory would come flooding back, filling the holes. When nothing happened, she exhaled and looked to Colin, who was watching her carefully. She met his gaze, grim determination ringing in her voice. “There’s only one person who can tell me about this.” Her fingers closed around the dragonfly. “And that’s Charlie.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE STORM THAT HOVERED above the cabin had finally been unleashed as it lashed the roadways with sleeting rain, making visibility minimal at best. Erin was grateful when she finally pulled into Caroline’s driveway, safe and in one piece.

  It’d been a long time since she felt like a teenager with a secret crush and she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it. It wasn’t as if she made a habit of making love to men she hardly knew. A self-conscious chuckle escaped and she could only shake her head at the whole experience. If only things were different….

  Would it matter? The thought came back to her quickly, just as it had the first time she’d felt herself slipping into dangerous territory, but this time she actually found herself hesitating. There was something about Colin, something that dared to make her wonder what if? when she’d spent years training herself to ignore such questions.

  There’s no time to wonder about a future that had no chance of becoming a reality, she realized with a shake of her head. Her life wasn’t here and she wouldn’t dream of asking Colin to uproot Danni at such a critical juncture in her life.

  So, that’s that.

  Putting the vehicle in Park, she placed the dragonfly carefully in her jacket pocket and slipped and slid her way to the front porch as fresh snow started to drift lazily to the ground, promising at least a foot by night’s end.

  Butterscotch padded to the foyer and whined just as Erin unwound her scarf from her neck. “Oh, crud…” She bit her lip, feeling like a heel for leaving the dog for so long. “I bet you have to go, don’t you, girl?”

  Butterscotch gave another whine, this time a bit more urgent, and scratched at the door. Erin obliged and opened it a crack as Butterscotch made her way gingerly out into the cold. The old girl’s gait pinched her conscience and she realized she was running out of time to find a home for her. Erin waited a few minutes and soon Butterscotch was eagerly returning to the warm house. In spite of herself, she reached down and gave the dog a friendly rub on the nose. “You’re kind of cute, you know? For an old girl, that is…” she added, almost playfully.

  Shaking her head, she latched the front door and made her way to the living room, where a fire burned low in the woodstove. She’d forgotten how long a good piece of seasoned oak could keep a house toasty. Tossing another piece on the embers, she sank onto the sofa opposite Caroline’s favorite wing-backed chair and wondered what had become of her life.

  What life?

  As Caroline had been fond of reminding her, what she had been doing could not be considered truly living.

  “When was the last time you ate a good meal?” Caroline had inquired sharply during one telephone conversation. When Erin had hesitated she pounced. “Aha! See? I knew you haven’t been eating. I could tell from the last picture you sent, you know the one with all your office buddies? And by the way, who was that delightful young man in the background? He seemed quite nice! You looked entirely too thin, love. You’re practically wasting away!”

  Erin chuckled at the memory even as it pained her to think of Caroline. She smoothed a hand down her belly, trying to forget the shivers of anticipation that had sent her stomach quivering as Colin’s tongue had traced a hot trail from her navel down to her… The breath hitched in her throat and she pressed a knuckle to her heated cheek. “Totally inappropriate,” she muttered, jumping to her feet in an agitated movement. As she did so, Colin’s scent, mingled with her own, caused her to inhale deeply. Eyes widening, she gave her head a quick shake and bounded up the stairs.

  A quick shower later, she pulled a sweater over her head and grabbed her cell phone from the bottom of her bag. She glanced down at the window and grimaced. Four missed calls. She didn’t even need to look to know who had kept ringing her. Harvey. Under the circumstances, she was half tempted to pull out of the assignment, but a deeply ingrained sense of professionalism kept her from calling him. She could download her photos later tonight and e-mail Harvey a few to shut him up. She wasn’t really worried about the deadline. Erin had long since learned Harvey enjoyed moving deadlines to see how quickly his employees could finish a project and how high they’d jump to do it. Well, this time, Harvey was just going to have to wait. She had more pressing issues to deal with.

  Pocketing her cell phone, she headed back downstairs. As she descended the last stair, her gaze fell upon the box of pictures lying on the table where she’d left it earlier that morning.

  Sitting down, she pulled the box to her and lifted the lid, grabbing a handful of photos and spreading them out on the table.

  There were so many. She had never seen so many pictures of her mother in one place. Rose was a subject rarely brought up. As a young girl, Erin had tried, but Caroline had always found a way to turn the conversation in another direction. All sh
e’d ever had was one faded picture of her mother, and even that had mysteriously disappeared one night. Erin had her suspicions but Caroline wouldn’t hear of it.

  “You probably just misplaced it, love,” had been her answer when Erin had approached her, distraught over its missing status.

  “I wouldn’t misplace the only picture I have of my mother,” Erin had returned angrily. “Did he take it?”

  Caroline looked distracted as she pulled croissants from the oven. “Who, dear?”

  Erin snorted in exasperation. “You know who. Charlie.”

  “Erin Mallory, have some respect. He’s your father, not the mailman,” Caroline had gently admonished without answering Erin’s question. Instead, she’d smiled and handed Erin a piping hot croissant with fresh butter dripping from the sides. When Erin wouldn’t budge, she waved away her concerns. “Honestly, Erin, it’ll turn up. I’m sure of it. Now eat your croissant before it gets cold.”

  But it hadn’t shown up and to this day Erin still thought Charlie had taken it. Why, she couldn’t hope to guess, but losing the only picture she’d thought existed of her mother had been like a sword to the heart. Now, standing before a veritable treasure trove of lost memories, she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by Caroline.

  “Seems Charlie’s not the only one with secrets,” she murmured, idly sifting through the pictures, wishing she knew the histories behind each and every smile, goofy expression and laugh.

  Butterscotch wandered in and settled with a grunt at her feet. Erin leaned down to pat her head. “And what am I going to do with you?” An ear twitched but otherwise the dog was silent. “Yeah, I don’t know, either. But if I don’t figure it out…” Thinking better of her next statement, she just gave a short smile and returned to the photos. Gathering the ones she’d placed on the table into the box, she replaced the lid and contemplated her next move.

  She looked back down at the dog. “Want to go for a ride?”

  As if understanding, Butterscotch lumbered to her feet and went to the door and sat down. Impressed, Erin secured the woodstove, and after scooping up the box along with her coat and keys she met Butterscotch at the door. “Let’s go, then.”

  Butterscotch barked and Erin found herself grinning. “All right, smarty-pants, but you’re not riding in the front seat. Dog hair makes me sneeze.”

  Making their way carefully to the Tahoe, they got in and Erin backed slowly out of the snowy driveway, realizing she was taking a big chance at just showing up at Colin’s door—with a dog, no less. But somehow she knew if there were a clue to be found in the box, Colin would find it. And at this point, wasn’t that what was most important in the big scheme of things?

  Right.

  “Just drive, McNulty,” she said, not really comfortable with what was staring her in the face. “Just drive, for crying out loud.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  COLIN HAD JUST FINISHED putting the remains of dinner away in the fridge when a tentative knock sounded at the door. Wiping his hands, he hollered out that he would get it and opened the door to find Erin and her dog shivering on his doorstep.

  “Hi. Can we come in?”

  He recovered quickly to usher them in. “Is everything okay?” he asked, concern replacing his surprise.

  “That depends on your definition of the word,” she answered, pausing only long enough to watch as Butterscotch made herself at home in front of the fireplace. She arched an eyebrow and Colin could only shake his head. Shrugging, she fished a medium-sized photo box out from under her jacket. Before he could question her further, she thrust the box into his hands. “I think there’s a clue to this damn mystery in here. It’s a bunch of old pictures. I figure if anyone can help me, it’s you,” she concluded, looking up at him with clear expectation and a touch of desperate hope. She swallowed hard and the effort made her appear vulnerable. “I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  A surge of protective feelings washed over him and he moved to help her out of her jacket. “You came to the right place. Let’s take a look at what you’ve got in this box.”

  A short smile of relief graced her lips and Colin had to pull himself back not to lean in and kiss her.

  “Are you sure you’re not too busy? I feel kind of bad for dropping in on you like this,” she admitted, following him into the dining room. “With a dog no less. But, it seems Butterscotch has taken a shine to your hearth. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” he said, waving away her concern. “Danni’s doing homework—” He paused to send a pained glance toward a closed door in the hallway that only partially muffled the sounds of hip-hop music beyond. “Or at least I hope she is, and I was going to spend the rest of the evening sorting through the old files. Actually, I’m glad you’re here. It’ll make the process a lot faster.”

  “I’m not sure about that,” she said, her voice dropping with frustration. “Somehow it feels like I’ve caught a glimpse of someone I never knew.”

  “Your mother?”

  “No,” she answered. “Caroline.”

  “How so?”

  Erin followed as he went into the dining room, setting down the box as she selected a chair. “I’m ashamed to admit, all my life I always considered Caroline easy to read. When she wasn’t trying to play matchmaker she was trying to fatten me up. She volunteered, she was the co-chair on a dozen or so committees and everyone loved her. She was probably as sweet as they come.”

  “And what has changed?”

  Erin tapped the box lightly with her index finger. “This. This box changes everything. Never in a million years would I have thought that hidden in her house was a box full of pictures of my mother. Why didn’t she share them with me? She knew how distraught I was when I lost the only picture I had of her. Why didn’t she offer up one of these? It’s apparent she had a few to spare.”

  The last part was delivered with a hint of bitterness and Colin knew it was born out of pain she couldn’t hide.

  “I just wish I knew why she kept them from me,” Erin said, sounding very much like a lost little girl. “I mean, she was my mother, for crying out loud.”

  “All I can say is I’ll bet she had a pretty good reason,” Colin offered softly, reaching up to brush away a tear she hadn’t even realized had slid from the corner of her eye.

  “Yeah? And what reason could that be?” she asked, the twist in his gut at the open anguish in her voice making him wish he had the answer. She shook her head. “Wasn’t it bad enough my mother killed herself and my father was a worthless drunk? Did she have to take what little else I had away from me?”

  Erin slid her gaze away from his until he cradled her jaw in his hand and gently turned her head. He tried not thinking of what had passed between them only a few short hours ago, but at the moment he wanted to pull her into his arms and brand her with a kiss so hot it might set their lips on fire. But this wasn’t the time nor the place, he reminded himself sharply even as he found himself leaning toward her. Stopping mere inches from the sweet promise of her lips, he pulled up short and placed a soft but quick kiss on her forehead.

  “Let’s reserve judgment until we figure out what we can from this box,” he said, smiling when she seemed disappointed in his sudden change in direction.

  “Right.” She nodded, unable to argue with his logic. “No, you’re right… I’m still just a little thrown over this whole situation. It’s a lot to take in on one visit.”

  He chuckled at her ability to look at things with her signature dry humor during such an emotional time and lifted the lid to the box. Reaching in, he pulled out a handful of photos and placed them carefully on the table.

  It didn’t take long for him to identify those which featured Erin’s mother. It was like looking at the twin of the woman beside him, except for one small difference. Rose, for all her flashing smiles and playful winks at the camera, seemed strangely fragile. It reminded him of Danielle. The correlation tugged at his heart. He risked a glance at Erin. The sadness
she was trying to hide was obvious. He could only imagine how this case was tearing her up inside. “She was beautiful,” he said softly.

  “Thanks,” she answered, taking a halting breath as if drawing on a near empty well of strength. Straightening, she gestured at the pile. “Where do we start?”

  “Let’s try making two separate piles,” he suggested, shuffling through the pictures. “Ones with Rose and ones without.”

  They settled into their own rhythm until each was absorbed with the task. Erin had separated the pictures with her mother, while Colin took the others. He was looking for anyone who might trigger a memory, perhaps someone with a record, but the faces were as unknown to him as they were to Erin. Suddenly, Erin paused and he leaned over to see what she was holding.

  “Is this your chief?” she asked.

  Colin studied the picture for a moment and then nodded before returning to his own pile.

  Erin sighed. “It’s kind of sad my dad and Roger Hampton parted ways. Maybe if they’d remained friends longer he could have straightened Charlie out.”

  “Maybe,” Colin said, though his mind was elsewhere. “How does your Uncle Hank fall into all this? Did they know each other from school?”

  Erin shook her head in dismay. “I really don’t know. But, if I were to hazard a guess I’d say they went to school together. This is a pretty small town. It’s not like there’s much opportunity to meet anyone new.”

  “Is that why someone never snatched you up?” he asked before he could stop himself. When she looked at him sharply, he could feel his ears reddening. He waved away his comment with a chagrined smile. “Sorry, I think I just picked up a signal from the Cheesy Pick-up Line Channel. Won’t happen again. Promise.”

  A half smile formed on her lips and for the first time since she walked through the door she seemed to relax a little. “Well, as long as you promise…”

  “Scout’s honor,” he murmured, enjoying the sultry tone of her voice.