Pick Your Poison yrm-1

by Leann Sweeney

“Yeah, go ahead and smile. You can use your facial muscles without feeling like you’ve been pulled through a knothole backward.” I slowly approached the coffeepot.

  “It’s a good day to stay home in bed anyway, because tropical storm Carl has stalled above us and we’ll see nothing but rain.” She opened the refrigerator and said, “Before you have coffee, drink this shake to soothe those achy muscles.” She poured something thick from the blender into a glass and brought the concoction over to me.

  It was green. My sister expected me to drink a green milkshake at ten o’clock in the morning. “Can I tackle this after my coffee?”

  “I suppose. But don’t go dumping it down the sink,” she warned. “And I expect you to relax while I’m gone.”

  Webster barked at the door as she left, then turned to me, tail wagging, rear end wiggling.

  “How’d you like a nice, big milkshake, fella?” I asked, holding the glass near his nose.

  He sniffed briefly, then ambled to the back door, where he lay down and pretended to be asleep. If our canine garbage disposal wasn’t tempted, I wasn’t risking it either.

  I spent the next two hours on-line researching Jane and Morris Mitchell, the people who were supposed to be my biological parents. The couple had indeed died in a plane crash, but the article from the El Paso newspaper archives reported that they were survived by a ten-year-old son. No twin infant girls. I then placed a call to Aunt Caroline, and told her I needed to see her immediately, saying I’d had an accident—which was true.

  She arrived within thirty minutes and knocked at the back door. I’d made it halfway there when she let herself into the kitchen and propped her umbrella against the wall.

  “What happened, Abigail?” she asked, squinting at my forehead. “Did you and Steven finally come to blows after all your years of off-again, on-again romance?”

  “This has nothing to do with Steven and everything to do with you.” I stared her straight in the eye.

  She shifted her gaze, flicking at her sleeve before removing her raincoat and draping it over the back of the chair.

  “I’ve uncovered some disturbing information,” I said. “I learned yesterday that Kate and I were deceived for a very long time.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?”

  But I could tell she knew. “I know about the adoption, so you can quit lying.”

  Her gaze slid away again.

  I went on. “Kate and I were stolen from our mother. She was murdered because she tried to find us, and I want answers.”

  “You can’t possibly know she was killed because of anything Charlie may have done.”

  “I want the truth!”

  She gripped the back of the kitchen chair, then came around and lowered herself onto it. She suddenly looked old, the scars from her face-lifts, just visible where her jaw met her ears, standing out white despite her foundation makeup.

  “Tell me,” I said. “Tell me exactly how it happened. How he fooled us all those years. You can start with the pictures. The ones Daddy showed us of the people who were supposedly our parents.”

  Aunt Caroline stared at the table. “He got real pictures of the people that died in that plane crash. Went to El Paso for them. He knew you’d have... questions.”

  “Why did you go along with this hoax?” I said, proud of maintaining my even, rational tone despite the rage whirling like a small tornado inside me.

  “I didn’t have any choice. As I told you the other day, I had been less than discreet in my life.”

  “I see. Daddy had more on you than those letters in the attic, huh? Was it an entire dossier, Aunt Caroline?” I was repulsed at the thought of my father blackmailing his own sister.

  “I warned him this would happen. I told him he should tell you the truth. But he insisted you’d never find out.”

  “And of course you never considered telling us yourself, because you’ve never had a clue about doing the right thing.”

  “You are being unreasonably vicious. You and Kate never wanted for anything,” she said, her voice rising. “He gave you everything! He worshiped you. Oh, he threw money at me, that’s true, but none of the love he showered on you and Kate after Elizabeth died. Every time I suggested he come clean, he’d say ‘Keep your mouth shut, Caroline, and you’ll be well cared for.’ ”

  “He paid you to keep his secrets. You must be so proud.”

  She didn’t reply, just looked at her hands, twisting one ring.

  “Did he kill her?” I said quietly.

  She jerked her head up. “Are you crazy? He’d never do anything like that. I know this is a shock, but—”

  “You don’t know the first thing about it.”

  “Please try to understand,” she said. “I know we haven’t agreed on much, but I do love and care for you. I will always consider you my family.”

  “If that’s true, which I doubt, I want the rest.” I sat down, every muscle tight with pain and rage.

  “Okay. Where to start?” She hesitated, then said, “Charlie and Elizabeth desperately wanted a family, but she couldn’t have children, and because of her illness, because she wouldn’t last more than a few years at most, no agency would allow them to adopt.” “But surely some reputable lawyer rather than a criminal like Feldman could have arranged an adoption? Daddy was a better judge of people than to do business with him.”

  “Desperation doesn’t make for clear vision, Abigail. Charlie knew Feldman was... an unsavory person, but he wanted to make Elizabeth’s dream of a family come true. He never anticipated that the woman would come looking for you years later.”

  “That woman was my mother,” I said.

  “Yes. I know. But Charlie didn’t kill her. He made mistakes, granted, errors in judgment, but he wasn’t a killer. Ask Willis. He’ll tell you. He was the one who found Feldman to begin with.”

  Of course. Willis.

  I pointed my finger at Aunt Caroline. “You can leave, but don’t you dare talk to Kate. She doesn’t know—and I’ll be the one to tell her.”

  26

  The rain had continued unabated for twenty-four hours and was threatening to send the bayous over their banks and flood the streets. But I had to see Willis before I told Kate the truth. She returned from school early—businesses and colleges were closing up shop because of possible flooding—so I borrowed her 4Runner to better maneuver through any high water, telling her I’d made an appointment for the much-needed tetanus shot. I didn’t feel too guilty about omitting the other part of my itinerary, because I really was going to the doctor.

  The nurse at the clinic gave me the shot and samples of an anti-inflammatory medicine after the doctor pronounced me remarkably fit, considering my circumstances. I swallowed a couple of pills before leaving the office, and by the time I reached the CompuCan building, I was almost pain-free.

  I paced nervously in Willis’s reception area while he finished with a client, and a few more pieces of the puzzle came together. Why hadn’t I seen through Willis’s attempts to stop me from investigating Ben’s murder, especially after he followed me all the way to Shade the day after it happened?

  But before I could answer my own question, Willis opened his office door.

  “Why, Abby,” he said, his client passing me on the way out. “I didn’t expect you. Say, what have you done to yourself?”

  He made a move to touch my face, but I jerked my head away.

  “You put on quite the dog and pony show, don’t you?” I brushed past him into his office and sat down in a client chair.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, following at my heels and then perching on the desk.

  “Tell me, Willis. How did you keep up this masquerade so long?” I crossed my legs, rotating my foot in agitated circles.

  He straightened his tie. “Could you start again? Obviously you’re upset, but I’m not sure why.”

  “I pegged Aunt Caroline as a liar and a cheat long ago. But you? No, you and Daddy had me buffaloed. Tell me... was he p
aying you to keep quiet, too, like he paid Aunt Caroline?”

  I read sadness in his eyes and wondered if the emotion was for himself or for Kate and me.

  His secretary poked her head in the door. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Hatch, I’ll head home. They say we’re in for heavy flooding, and my subdivision entrance fills when the weatherman even mentions rain. Can I get you anything before I go?”

  “No, Dolores. Go on.”

  I waited until she was gone, then said, “I want answers.”

  When he finally spoke, he sounded resigned. “You couldn’t leave it alone, could you? I told you not to pursue this, Abby. Now you and Kate have been hurt.”

  “What about the ones already hurt? The ultimate hurt. As in dead. Tell me, Willis, did you help Daddy... or did he help you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Willis looked tired and confused.

  “I’m talking about you and Daddy murdering my mother. He wasn’t around to help you with Ben, though. You handled that murder all by yourself, didn’t you? Ben must have been ready to tell Kate and me the truth and so you killed him. Killed him for a stupid thirty-year-old secret.”

  He blinked several times. “That’s ridiculous. Where did you ever get the idea that I, or your father, for that matter—”

  “You knew Ben’s real identity, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I’ll admit I did, but—”

  “If you’re so innocent, if you didn’t kill him, why didn’t you share what you knew with the police?”

  “Because I—”

  “Oh, I know why.” I stood, leaned close to his face, and poked my finger in his chest. “You were covering up. You had a hand in an illegal adoption, and even if the statute of limitations had long passed, you’d be in serious trouble with the bar. Your reputation would be ruined.”

  “You think I’m a killer?”

  “You had motive, and you sure as hell had the opportunity to fix up that cyanide trap.”

  “I certainly didn’t want you and Kate to find out about the adoption from Ben, but I didn’t kill him, and neither Charlie nor I murdered your mother.”

  “I’ve been lied to my whole life. Why should I believe anything you say?”

  “Charlie didn’t even know your mother’s name when he adopted you two. He didn’t want to know. I handled the deal with Feldman.”

  “Because what you were doing was illegal, right?”

  “That, and he feared that if you knew your mother was alive, you’d want to find her one day.” He reached out to touch me and I shrank from his outstretched hand. “You have every right to be angry, Abby, but—”

  “Angry? Angry doesn’t begin to cover it.” I turned away, hugging my arms, trying to contain the pain his betrayal had caused.

  “Charlie thought he had all the bases covered. Feldman assured us no one would know. Said the mother didn’t want you. So when she showed up...” He shook his head. “Charlie was devastated. But I swear he had nothing to do with murder.”

  I turned back. “Quit lying, Willis.”

  “That’s the God’s truth.”

  “So how did you find out she was looking for us?”

  “Feldman called. God, Charlie was furious. He blamed everything on me at first. Said I should have researched the mother. But I could tell he realized this was as much his fault as mine. And then he took off for Galveston to deal with Feldman himself.”

  “And not long after Cloris Grayson died. You’re telling me that was all Feldman’s doing? You still insist you and Daddy had nothing to do with her murder?”

  “We didn’t know the woman was dead until Ben showed up.”

  “Why don’t you just tell the truth? Because I’m going to the police with what I know no matter what.”

  “Go ahead. But before you do that, get all the facts,” he said. “I happen to know Ben and your father made some sort of agreement right before Charlie died.”

  The room was quiet, in stark contrast to the scene outside, where wind was hurling rain at the windows. Beyond, the sky was as dark as night.

  “What kind of agreement?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t think Charlie would have contacted Feldman. He hated the man.” He shook his head, looking puzzled.

  “Did you know Daddy made Judge Hayes resign? Were you sweating bullets that night at the country club while I blabbed on about her?”

  “I never knew how Charlie dealt with the, uh... problem, until you told us Judge Hayes resigned.”

  “Not plausible. You’re a lawyer. You’d have heard about the resignation. And you also know Daddy could have permanently silenced my mother.”

  “He couldn’t have killed her, Abby. He didn’t have it in him.”

  Willis was good. If I didn’t know the two of them had lied through their teeth for years, he might have pulled off this innocent act.

  “Come on, Willis. It’s over. I’m going straight to Jeff. He’ll help me find the proof I need to put you and Feldman away.”

  “If you’re hell-bent on proving this theory of yours, I’d take a closer look at the CD from the safe-deposit box. Charlie told me he had kept a record of everything that had transpired since the adoption, and I tried to get my hands on it, but you found it before I did.”

  “Are you saying Daddy confessed on that CD? That he imbedded information about the adoption in that program?”

  “I’m not absolutely certain. Charlie said Ben Grayson was pressuring him, but had agreed to give Charlie time to tell you and Kate himself. I was surprised when Ben didn’t come to you right after Charlie’s heart attack. But maybe all this is explained on that CD.”

  And then I remembered the day of the murder, recalled Ben saying how he knew Kate and I were grieving for our father and so he’d been waiting for the right time to “say what needs saying.”

  Willis was speaking and I refocused on him. “After Ben died I knew I had to check the files at the Victorian,” he said, “I realized Charlie could have hidden the information about your adoption there. So I went over, sure I’d find either a document or a disk.”

  I blinked. “Oh, my God. You were the intruder on P Street! And then you tore up the attic the day Aunt Caroline moved out half of our belongings.”

  He held up his hands as if to fend me off. “Okay. I did search the files in Galveston, but I never went near your attic. Caroline must have made that mess, despite her protests to the contrary.”

  It was all coming together, making me sicker by the minute. “You bashed Steven in the head!”

  “I’m sorry about hurting him. All I could find was a wrench, and I tried not to hit him too hard. He took me by surprise and I had to search through—”

  “You could have killed Steven!” The anger smoldering in my gut ignited again. “How could you come to our house, eat with us, give advice, act so damn moral and condescending when the whole time...” Tears stung behind my eyes. “Jeff Kline is going to get an earful, and so help me, Willis, if you call Kate, there’ll be another murder. Yours. Do you understand?”

  He couldn’t even look me in the eye. He shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, Abby. I’m so sorry for everything.”

  I didn’t want to hear his empty apology. I turned on my heel and left.

  I called the police station from Kate’s car, but Jeff was out of the building. I left a message for him to contact me, keeping one ear tuned to the radio broadcast announcing road closings. The freeways remained passable, so the weather hadn’t gotten too serious yet, but if this horrendous rain kept up, it wouldn’t take long for the entire Gulf Coast to flood.

  I revisited my conversation with Willis, realizing it didn’t all add up. Why would he admit some things and lie about others? Obviously I knew everything, so what was the point?

  He confessed to hitting Steven, but he swore he didn’t ransack the attic. But if not Willis, then who? Caroline? She had no reason to lie about messing things up, since she’d already ’fessed up to taking her letters.

&nbs
p; It all came back to Willis. He had to be lying. But why did one of those lies include his insistence that my father was innocent? Why protect a dead man? It would be so simple to blame Cloris’s murder on Daddy. Dead men can’t deny anything.

  I’d missed something somewhere.

  I needed that CD.

  * * *

  Once I returned home, I tore past Kate, who was chopping up vegetables near the sink, and went straight to the study.

  Where did I file the thing?

  Kate followed me and stood in the doorway, knife in hand. “Abby, what’s going on?”

  “I’m hunting for the CD from the safe-deposit box. Have you seen it?”

  “I lent it to Steven yesterday. He said he needed a better spreadsheet setup to document the renovation expenses.”

  “Great,” I said in exasperation. “But why the CD? I have an updated copy of that program on disk. It’s right here.” I turned the disk carousel, then scratched my head, puzzled. It wasn’t there. “Where is it?”

  “Now do you see why I lent him the one from the bank? I couldn’t find that one either. You said they were close to the same thing.”

  “They are, but I wanted another look. Steven probably took it to his office.” I picked up the phone and speed-dialed his number.

  “What’s happening?” asked Kate. “You’ve got ‘frantic’ written all over you.”

  I listened to Steven’s phone ring and his answering machine picked up. Damn. I held up my hand for Kate to wait while I spoke into the receiver. “Steven, this is Abby. Kate says you have the CD from the safe-deposit box. Call me. And take care of it. It’s valuable.”

  “What have you found out?” she said after I hung up.

  I took a deep breath. I couldn’t put this off any longer. “We need to talk.” I took her hand and led her to the kitchen.

  I was trembling when we sat down, and stalled by turning over the quilted place mat in front of me several times. My anger had protected me when I spoke with Aunt Caroline and Willis, but this was different. Finally I looked up into Kate’s soft brown eyes, mirrors of my own.

  “What’s wrong, Abby? You’re scaring me.”