Conspiracy of Silence

by Martha Powers

  “Did you postpone the wedding when you found out about theadoption?”

  “In part. Doug was a lawyer. Having a wife who didn’t know her family background presented a problem for a man wanting to pursue a career in politics. His family was wealthy and well established socially in Chicago. As his mother was happy to point out, it would be unfortunate if, after the marriage, it turned out that my family had a scandalous side.” Clare’s laugh was harsh. “Wouldn’t she love to hear my history now?”

  “What did Doug think?”

  “He thought we should put our wedding plans on hold until I could look into my family history. Instead the wedding was canceled.”

  Nate was surprised that she didn’t seem as upset as she had been over other things she’d discovered in her search for her identity.

  “Doug canceled it? What kind of idiot were you marrying?” Nate released her hand, surprised at how angry he was. He downed the last of his Scotch and signaled the waitress for another round. “Sorry, Clare, for my rudeness. Perhaps he was the same kind of jerk I was when I was screwing up my marriage.”

  Clare chuckled.

  “Thanks for your defense, but I was the one who canceled the wedding. I did it originally in anger. Now I realize that my subconscious was just recognizing the fact that I shouldn’t marry Doug.”

  “Were you madly in love with him?”

  Nate tried to keep his tone slightly humorous, but he was anxious to know the answer to the question. Clare tipped her head to the side. Her eyes were focused on a spot over his shoulder. Her mouthwas unsmiling, her lower lip caught up in her teeth. Finally she shook her head.

  “It’s funny, but I never asked myself that question. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I was. I was flattered by his attention and proud of him. He was fun to be with and interesting to talk to. But to answer your question, no, I don’t think I was madly in love with him.”

  “Had you dated long?”

  “Almost three years. Rose never approved. In retrospect I can understand her concerns. When she moved to Chicago with me, her whole purpose was to make sure no one ever discovered my family background. She was angry when my soccer team was going to the state finals. The newspaper wanted to profile all of the girls and Rose wouldn’t let them run my picture.”

  “And now you’re dating a man who would be taking you to political dinners and fund-raisers and your picture would be appearing in the society section of the newspaper and the Chicago magazines.”

  “Exactly. Besides if Doug went into politics full time, the newspapers were bound to dig around until they discovered what I’m just finding out now. It makes sense why Rose would try to discourage the relationship. She would have been much happier if I’d dated a plumber or an advertising exec.”

  Clare finished her wine just as the waitress returned with another round of drinks. Nate took a long sip of his before he spoke.

  “Last weekend must have been a rough time for you.”

  Clare shook her head. “I left Chicago last Friday and went up toLake Geneva, Wisconsin. I’d gone there quite a few times with Gail and her family and stayed at the French Country Inn. Lake, pool, and wonderful balconies. Totally relaxing. I needed to get away and thought this would be the perfect start to my Minnesota trip.”

  “I figured you didn’t get that tan in downtown Chicago. That was a smarter idea than staying at home and staring at the walls.”

  “Lots of walking and swimming and thinking. The latter was interesting. I realized the canceled wedding didn’t devastate me. When I went back over our relationship, I could see that we didn’t have a lot in common in the areas I thought were important. We had fun together, but when I really looked into the future I didn’t see us aging well together. He didn’t like to be around children, didn’t like plays, didn’t read much, and we didn’t talk much. When we went out on dates, we were always with other people, rarely ever just the two of us.”

  “I recall when my marriage to Rebecca was falling apart, we did the same thing. We’d go out with either her friends or mine.”

  “In our way Doug and I were as wrong together as it sounds like you and Rebecca were.”

  “Then you made the right decision to cancel the wedding.” Nate sighed. “If I’d been so self-aware I might never have gotten married.”

  “In your case, your bonus was Erika.”

  Before he could comment, the waitress arrived with their dinners and the serious discussions were suspended. He was pleased that she liked the walleyed pike and for a while they talked about food and restaurants that he knew from his travels to Chicago. Toward the end of the meal, he brought the conversation back to Erika.

  “I realize Erika was rude to you yesterday. I’d like to apologize for her.”

  “There’s no need,” Clare said. “Eleven is a tough age for a girl. So many changes and so many feelings she doesn’t understand. Believe it or not she’ll grow out of it.”

  “Soon?”

  “Tenyears should do it.”

  “Now that was cruel.” When Clare laughed, her smile was like sunshine, warming him. It made him uneasy at how quickly he’d been drawn to her. What was it about her that made her so appealing?

  “It’s probably a little frightening if she thinks some woman might replace her in your life. She needs to be busy to take her focus off of you.”

  “Ihaven’t been conscious of it until lately. I signed her up for everything I thought she’d be interested in and some she wasn’t. She’s taking clogging and knitting lessons and there’s a creative writing class she’s signed up for through the school.”

  “What’s clogging?” Clare’s eyebrows were drawn down over her eyes. “Does that have anything to do with blocked pipes?”

  “Ah, you city girls. It’s like tap dancing except the taps aren’t tight to the sole of the shoe. They’re loose and make a jingling sound when they tap. I think it’s related to Irish dancing except the music is usually bluegrass or, these days, country.”

  “I can imagine she’d have a lot of fun doing it. In Chicago there were a lot of Irish dancers and I think it gave the girls more confidence when they hit puberty. Dancers move well and that helps when you’re going through that awkward stage.”

  “Several of the girls in Erika’s class took it up and then when we went to the Showboat several years ago they had an exhibition and she was hooked.”

  “Showboat?”

  “I forgot you’re new in town and haven’t even tasted the cultural and musical delights of Grand Rapids.”

  He signaled to the waitress that she could clear the table. He ordered coffee but Clare preferred tea. When it arrived, he sat back feeling totally relaxed.

  “I hope you’re ready for some geography and history,” he said.

  “If you’re paying for dinner, I guess I’ll be forced to listen.”

  “The source of the Mississippi River is west of Grand Rapids at Lake Itasca. It flows right through town. Long ago the only communication some of the towns along the river had was the arrival of the riverboats. With paddlewheel churning the water and thewhistle blowing for miles upstream, they’d pull into shore and announce that there’d be a show in the evening.”

  “I remember hearing about those boats along the Ohio river too. It must have been an exciting time in those days.”

  “About fifty years ago, someone had the bright idea to resurrect a riverboat and put on a show right here in Grand Rapids. It wasgoing to be a special celebration, but it was so successful that it became an annual tradition. It’s called the Mississippi Melodie Showboat. There’s an amphitheater along the shore and the riverboat pulls in along the edge where there’s a stage.”

  “What a treat,” Clare said. “Do they have shows all year round?”

  “No, just for a couple weeks in the summer. Unfortunately last week was the last, but I’ll take you out to the amphitheater and you’ll be able to get a good idea of what it would be like.”

  “I’d like
that. So I missed my chance to see real live clogging.”

  “Professionally done, that’s true. Although that was just one small part of the show. The showboat really recreated the feeling of the old vaudeville-type shows. Big cast and elaborate period costumes. Lots of singing and dancing and the old slapstick broad comedy routines.”

  “Does Erika want to dance on the showboat?”

  “The girls in her class are part of a performing team. They go to nursing homes and churches and carnivals and do shows.”

  “Oh I’d like to see them dance. You’ve got me thoroughly intrigued.”

  “I think you’ll have to stay in town longer than you planned because there are plenty of things to see in Grand Rapids.”

  Clare was startled by the expression on Nate’s face. His gaze was steady as he examined her. She wasn’t prepared for her own reactions and considered a change to a less serious subject. Opening her purse she reached inside and pulled out his handkerchief.

  “I thought you’d like this back,” she said, passing it across to him. “If I’m going to play the weeping, fainting ingénue, I should start carrying one of my own.”

  Heheld it in his hand for a moment and then slipped it into his jacket pocket. “And I decided that I better have a spare on hand just in case I run into another damsel in distress.”

  “I hear there’s a rash of them heading to Grand Rapids.”

  When she’d gotten the handkerchief out, she’d seen the letter she’d jammed in her purse before she left the house. Taking it out, she handed it to him.

  “I didn’t find this until just before you came. That’s why I was a little abrupt before dinner. I had only just read it and I didn’t want to bring it up until I’d had a chance to think about it. It was in the bottom of the cardboard box. It’s a letter to me from Jimmy Newton.”

  Carefully Nate removed the note and read it.

  “It’s a very nice note. If he left it with the jewelry case you can see that his last thoughts were about you. That has to be some consolation.”

  “It is. Comforting, but there’s still so much that I don’t understand. It’s apparent that Jimmy and Rose planned everything after the death of my mother. He must have decided right from the beginning that he was going to escape.”

  Nate pulled at his earlobe, mouth pinched in thought. “I agree. He must have sensed that his guilt would be uncovered immediately so he had to work fast.”

  “Ruth’s brother Owen seems to have been included in much of the planning. He was the one who arranged the sale of Rose’s houses and for the fake birth certificates. I can’t imagine that he would have helped Jimmy escape, but he certainly facilitated my new life in Chicago.”

  Nate nodded. “It does look that way. I agree that Jimmy escaped on his own. Owen had too much at stake to risk helping him. I didn’t know him, but from everyone who’s spoken of him, Owen was one of the most honest people around. Unfortunately we’ll never know what his part in this whole scenario was.”

  Nate paid the check and they left the restaurant. It had turned chilly outside. Clare shivered and unfolded her wrap. Nate reached for it and draped it over her shoulders.

  “Is that going to be warm enough?”

  “You might know literature, Mr. Hanssen, but it’s obvious you know nothing of haute couture.” Clare’s tone was arch as she flung the material across one shoulder. “A million Himalayan goats have shed their fleece so that I and other fashion-conscious women might ward off chills and look exotically beautiful.”

  “I’ll buy the beautiful part but what is this stuff?”

  Clare laughed. “It’s called pashmina. I think it means wool.”

  “No, wool is cheap. With a name like pashmina, it’s bound to be pretty pricey.” He put an arm around her shoulder and led her to the car. “I better get you home before the Minnesota goats catch wind of a foreigner in town.”

  Back at the cottage, Nate walked side by side with Clare down theflagstone path, holding her hand. She’d left a light on inside the cottage and the overhead porch light enabled her to unlock the door. He followed her in, bumping into her back as she halted on the threshold.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Someone’s been in here.”

  S

  Chapter Twelve

  “Someone was in the cottage while we were at dinner,” Clare said. She could feel the goose bumps on her skin as she looked around the room.

  “Are you sure?” Nate asked. “Yes. I know how I left the papers on the counter. They’ve been moved.”

  “Stay here,” Nate said.

  He crossed the room to the bedroom and bathroom. Clare watched him moving from room to room.

  “There’s no one here now,” he said. “Are you sure there was someone here?”

  “Yes. Just before you came to pick me up tonight I’d been at the counter looking through my research files. My laptop was on the coffee table in the living room and I brought it over here earlier in the day. That’s been moved too.”

  “Would you know if anything was taken?”

  “I can’t believe anyone would take my notes. However if someone looked through this pile, they would find my birth certificate and the other papers I got at the courthouse.”

  “That doesn’t mean that they will know who you are, if that’s what you’re afraid of. You’re a reporter doing a story on the murder case so it would be logical you’d have all sorts of documents and notes.”

  His reasonable tone penetrated her panic. She took a deep breath and tried to think more calmly.

  “The only things of any value are in the bedroom.”

  Setting her purse and wrap on the table beside the sofa she went into the bedroom. She was still feeling shaky and was grateful that Nate followed her. She walked across to the dresser where the satin jewelry cases were side by side. Opening the blue one she looked through her jewelry and found the few things that she’d brought still there. Inside the red one were the pearls and the wedding ring. Then she picked up the letter that Owen had taped to the top of the cardboard box.

  “Whoever was here read this letter.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Clare held the envelope in her left hand, backside facing up and the flap opening pointed to the right.

  “The note is facing the wrong way.” She held it out so that she could see as she extracted it. “In grade school when we first learned how to write letters my teacher, Mrs. Zenda, was a stickler for etiquette. She told us that with a single page this size, you inserted the bottom first with the note facing toward the back of the envelope.”

  Once more she demonstrated how it should have been placed in the envelope.

  “The theory is that when it’s extracted, the person doesn’t need to turn it to read the contents. It’s funny how things like that make an impression on a child. I’ve always done it that way even though I realize now it’s really not that important.”

  “You were upset when you showed it to me today. Are you sure you didn’t put it back the wrong way?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s a long ingrained habit.” She put the envelope back in the jewelry case, then turned to face Nate whose expression was concerned. “Whoever read the letter has to realize the only reason I would have this note is because I am Abby.”

  “How would anyone get in? Did you lock the back door before we left?”

  “I’m sure I did.” She walked out to the living room and crossed to the back door. Opening it, she stepped outside and tried the doorknob. “It’s unlocked.”

  She came back inside, locking the door behind her. She rubbed her forehead, thinking back to her actions after she came back from City Hall and before Nate arrived.

  “I didn’t go out on the porch after I came back from town. I took a shower and dressed and then read my father’s letter.”

  “How about after I left this morning? Did you go back outside?”

  Clare shook her head. “No, I cleaned up everything while you
were talking to Erika. I gathered up my notebook and left for City Hall.”

  “Do you remember locking the back door?”

  Clare closed her eyes trying to visualize those last few minutes. She opened her eyes and stared across at Nate. “No. I don’t think I locked it.”

  “If someone was here they got lucky finding the door unlocked. You’ll remember to lock up from now on. It isn’t Chicago, but there are still criminals in any town. Do you think it might have been Ruth just checking on the place?”

  “No. I can’t picture her snooping around.” Clare shivered. “I don’t like the fact someone was in here.”

  “Me neither. On the face of it, it looks like whoever was here wanted to find out about you. Otherwise it’s strange that someone would break in and not take anything.” When Clare opened her mouth to argue, Nate put up a hand to forestall her. “I’m not saying it didn’t happen. If you think someone was here, then I can accept that.”

  “Thanks, Nate.” She sighed. “I’m just a little bit spooked.”

  “Would you like me to stay for a while? Or I could sleep over since Erika’s gone for the night.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis and Clare laughed feeling her mood lighten.

  “I detect a slightly leering tone so I think I’ll be well advised to say no.”

  “The question is, do you feel comfortable here?”

  She thought about it for a moment and realized that after the initial feeling of disquiet, she didn’t feel frightened. Nothing was taken and she had no sense of menace in the intrusion.

  “I feel fine. I’ll lock up tight and get a good night’s sleep. I think I’ve been running on a lot of adrenaline and maybe that makes me liable to paranoia.”

  “You’ve got my number on your cell phone. Don’t hesitate to call me if you feel any concern at all.”

  “I will. And thanks for a very nice evening.”

  She opened the front door and stood aside for him. He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned over, kissing her lightly on the mouth. She knew if she made the slightest move he would stay the night. Much as she was tempted, she merely smiled up at him.