Hadn’t May said the entire Kelly family couldn’t be trusted? Hadn’t Sadie suspected there was more to May’s nostalgia about Portland than she claimed? Could it be Richard? Could this all be some kind of hunt to find something to pin on the two men who together broke her heart and shattered her future?
“It’s been ten years,” Sadie said. “That’s a long time to carry a grudge.”
“It feels like yesterday for me. I can imagine it feels that way for her too, especially after losing her father. They had a very special bond, and he was the one person she thought would never abandon her.”
“Who else has abandoned her? I mean, other than you.”
Richard looked surprised at the question. “She didn’t tell you? I guess you don’t know May very well, do you?”
“I’d, uh, like to hear your side of it,” Sadie said with a sharp nod.
“Well, May’s family has one of the strongest histories of cancer I’ve ever heard of. In fact, they were part of a university study on genetics several years ago. May’s mother, Leena, was diagnosed with breast cancer the first time when she was thirty-five.”
“She died?” Sadie asked, glad to have that blank filled in, though the information was very sad.
“Not then,” Richard said with a shake of his head. “She made it eight years after the first diagnosis—during which time her mother, two aunts, an uncle, and an older brother all died of some form of cancer. Leena’s cancer came back with a vengeance when she was forty-three; she didn’t beat it a second time. May was a sophomore in high school when her mother died. It was devastating.”
Sadie could only imagine, and she felt the heaviness of May’s loss in her heart.
Richard continued. “May had two surviving aunts when her mother died, Carla and Marie, but Carla was dead within five years of Leena. By the time May was twenty-two, every close relative on her mother’s side, except Marie, had died of some type of cancer. To lose her father—who wasn’t on the cancer-gene side of the family—must be horrible for her. He was the one she thought would always be there.”
They both fell silent. It explained so much, including why May had gone to such pains to have Sadie help her, and why she didn’t want to make a big deal to Hugh and Jolene about what Sadie was really doing. Sadie took advantage of the silence to take a few more bites of her buttermilk bar and ponder on her role. She was May’s employee, hired to prove that Jim Sanderson’s death was not a result of natural causes. But maybe the real reason she was here—the ethereal and higher-plan reason—was simply to help May find some peace. With her father’s death, yes, but perhaps with Richard’s abandonment as well. May couldn’t be more than thirty-five years old; there was a lot of life left for her to live. Maybe Sadie could be part of that process. The more she let those thoughts pour into her head and heart, the more right they felt.
“Could you help me prove your father had nothing to do with Jim’s death?” Sadie asked after a little more thought.
“How?”
“I’m not really sure,” Sadie said, wishing she were. “I’m still trying to adjust to all this information myself. Jim died of a heart attack, but there are chemicals and medications that can induce a heart attack—including insulin.”
Richard considered that, the crease in his brow getting deeper. “Did the police find Jim’s death suspicious?”
Sadie shook her head and frowned. “No.”
“But May’s convinced,” he summed up, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “If we could prove Dad had no opportunity, that might be a starting point.”
“Jim died on July sixteenth. Could you find out where your father was that day? What he was doing?”
Richard crossed his arms over his chest and nodded thoughtfully.
She held his eyes. He’d already given her an awful lot of information, and she was worried he had reached his limit.
“What color is May’s hair?” he asked abruptly.
“What color is her hair?”
Richard nodded. “She was a redhead in high school, then a brunette in college. She felt it made her look more mature. Not long before things came to an end for us, she became a blonde—I hated it. I’ve wondered a hundred times since then what color her hair is. Did she stay blonde just to spite me?”
Sadie’s insides melted, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Pete ever thought about her hair color. It was ten o’clock, Colorado time. He’d be getting ready for bed; probably reading the morning paper he never got to in the mornings.
“She’s a redhead,” Sadie said, keeping herself in the present. “She’s beautiful.”
Richard smiled and took the last bite of his donut, taking ten years off the lines around his eyes in the process. When he finished, he stood up, digging into his pocket for a couple of one-dollar bills to leave as a tip, although Sadie wasn’t sure a tip was required for a donut shop when they hadn’t even sat inside. She suspected someone would take the money off the table before an employee noticed it was there and save themselves from having to use the ATM, but she still gave Richard credit for making the effort.
They waited to talk until they were back on the sidewalk and heading for Sadie’s hotel. The streets were packed despite it being so late.
“Dad’s secretary keeps an online calendar for him, but he also has a planner he takes notes in,” Richard said.
They passed a man playing a saxophone, and Sadie threw a dollar into his open case. He stopped playing and wished her a great gift from the Universe of Love. It sounded good to Sadie.
She smiled at the musician before turning her attention back to Richard. “Do you have access to those things?”
Richard frowned and shook his head. “There’s no reason for me to,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But I think I can find the access.” He stepped to the left to let a couple holding hands pass between them. When they met back up on the sidewalk, he continued. “You’ve given me a lot of motivation. I help you clear my father, and you help me clear myself.”
Sadie was unable to deny the sincerity of his desire to talk to May. It was very touching, and she nodded. “I appreciate it.”
Richard looked down and said under his breath, “Not as much as I do.”
Chapter 25
Sadie took her time the next morning. She typed up all her notes, looking over all the information she’d collected, and wondered if she’d ever dare give them to May. It made her nervous to consider admitting to May that she’d talked to Richard, but hopefully things were coming together in a way that May would see all of this as a good thing.
Needing to relieve her anxiety, Sadie spent an hour walking the Portland streets even though most of the boutiques and shops weren’t open yet. Window-shopping was fun, though, and when she saw that Powell’s bookstore opened at nine o’clock, she ducked inside to see the landmark for herself. It was amazing, but equally overwhelming. Her head spinning by 9:30, she had to force herself to leave for fear that if she stayed much longer, she’d never find her way out again. It would take a three-day trip all by itself to see the whole store, though she did grab a romance novel on her way out so she could say she’d bought something.
She bought a Belgian waffle from a food cart on her way back to the hotel—it was delicious—and was crossing the lobby when the desk clerk called out to her.
“Mrs. Sadie Hoffmiller?” The man was tall and thin, with a smile too big for his face.
“Yes?”
He held out a small, manila-colored bubble mailer. “A package came for you in this morning’s mail.”
Intrigued, Sadie took the package and headed to her room, where she quickly opened it. Maybe it was a clue, like some voice tapes Jim had made about what to do if he died suddenly. Or maybe the key to a locker at a bus station! Unfortunately, it wasn’t either of those things. When Sadie dumped it upside down on the bed, a slim, black wallet fell out, along with a folded-up piece of lined paper. She picked up the paper and opened it.
&
nbsp; Sadie chuckled and shook her head as she opened the wallet with trepidation. What would he have gone to all the trouble to send her? As it turned out, it wasn’t a wallet at all, but a badge holder. And right where an ID was supposed to be was something that looked a little bit like a driver’s license, only with the words “Private Investigator” printed in big blue letters. It had a photo of Sadie, her home address, and some type of phony—but still official-looking—seal in the bottom corner. Sadie shook her head and pulled her phone out of her purse, pressing number 3 to speed dial her son.
He answered on the second ring.
“You made me a bogus ID and mailed it all the way to Portland?”
Shawn laughed. “It looks awesome, doesn’t it? I spent hours getting it just right.”
“Yes, it does look awesome, but it’s still a fake.”
“I know, but you have to admit I have skills.”
“Have I ever doubted how highly skilled you are?”
Shawn didn’t answer right away and a split second before he spoke, Sadie knew where this conversation was headed.
“Please let me come, Mom,” Shawn begged. “I can tell my work it’s a family emergency. They’ll give me the time off. I’ll even pay for my own ticket.”
Sadie took a breath and sat on the edge of the bed, where, for the next fifteen minutes, she explained frontward and backward why Shawn couldn’t come. School started in two weeks, this wasn’t a family emergency, he couldn’t afford a ticket, and Sadie was already pushing things by doing an investigation in a state where she wasn’t licensed. She let him argue for awhile and then ended the discussion as only a mother can do sometimes. He was not happy, but she thanked him a final time for the badge before they hung up. She hoped he’d let it drop now. There was no way around the fact that it was not a good idea for him to come.
After ending the call, Sadie went to put the badge in her suitcase when she paused. She opened up the leather cover again and smiled. It was a very sweet gesture on Shawn’s part, and since she’d never seen a real investigator’s license, it looked legitimate to her. After considering it for a few more seconds, she put the badge in her purse instead. Just in case.
It was a quarter to 11:00 when Sadie parked in front of the light-gray rambler with white trim and a real estate sign in the front yard. She double-checked the address she’d typed into Dora fifteen minutes earlier. Yes, she was at the right place.
Jim Sanderson’s house was tucked into a sprawling and beautiful neighborhood; kids were riding their bikes, a man was mowing his lawn, and a pair of women were speed walking around the block. She loved how many people always seemed to be out and about.
Sadie let herself out of the car and took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy smell. No wonder Oregonians were so environmentally conscious; they had a lot to lose. As she headed for the front door, she slipped her keys in her pocket as Pete had taught her to do. She hoped she’d be able to manage this meeting without revealing all the things she’d learned since she’d spoken to May on the phone yesterday, but the words seemed to be bursting inside of her. She worried about her ability to keep them to herself. It was imperative, however, that she didn’t give things up before she heard back from Richard about his father’s whereabouts the day Jim Sanderson died.
Her foot was on the first step when the front door opened and May slipped out, pulling the door shut behind her. Her hair was twisted up into a crude French knot, a few tendrils of hair framing her face. She gave Sadie a nervous smile while twisting the hem of her oversized T-shirt in her hands.
“Good morning,” she said.
Sadie stopped at the top of the stairs. “Good morning,” she said back. “What’s wrong?”
May bit her lip. “Jolene stayed here last night,” she said in a low voice. “She had a treatment yesterday, and Gary had a lot to do today; she didn’t want to be alone.”
“A treatment?” Sadie asked. “Is she sick?”
May blinked at her, her expression confused. “Did I not tell you about Jolene?”
Sadie shook her head. “She’s your older sister and does the books for S&S. That’s all I know.”
“Oh,” May said in a dull voice. She looked back at the house, then headed down the stairs. “Let’s take a walk. I don’t want her to overhear us.”
Sadie fell in step beside May and adjusted her purse on her shoulder as they reached the sidewalk that followed the curling streets. Most of the sidewalk was covered in blessed shade. May waited until they had crossed the property line before she spoke.
“Jolene has cancer,” she said simply.
Sadie’s heart sank. “I’m so sorry,” she said sympathetically, looking to the side, trying to read May’s expression. She was watching the sidewalk and not looking at Sadie at all. “What kind?”
“Breast,” May said simply, then took a breath—the kind Sadie imagined soldiers took before going into battle—and looked up. “She’s beating it, but the treatments take a lot out of her.”
“Does she have a family?”
Another pained expression flitted across May’s face. “Her son, Bryce, is at the University of Washington in Seattle. She and her husband, Gary, live in Hillsboro, which is about half an hour from here.” May paused. “Dad would help take care of her when she didn’t feel up to making the trip home after her treatments at Providence, and, well, now I’m here instead.”
Sadie put her hand on May’s arm, causing her to stop. She turned to Sadie, her expression cautious. “I’m so sorry, May,” she said. “Losing your father at a time like this must be even more devastating.” Thanks to Richard relaying some of May’s family history, Sadie knew just how horrible this really was.
Quick tears rose in May’s eyes, but she took another of those strengthening breaths and faced forward, walking again. Sadie quickly matched her pace. They didn’t speak for nearly a minute.
“You said she’s beating it,” Sadie said. “That’s good news.”
“She looks awful, though,” May admitted, her gaze on the sidewalk. They had looped around to the point where Sadie had no idea where they were in relation to the house. “I mean, I know the treatments are designed to get you as close to death as possible without killing you in an attempt to kill off the cancer cells, but it’s hard to watch, hard to believe she’ll get better.”
“Hard to believe doesn’t equal hopeless,” Sadie pointed out.
May shrugged. “You can see why I don’t want to upset her, why it’s important that you’re just a friend helping me get Dad’s house ready to sell and not someone who is going to give her any reason to worry about anything at all.”
“I understand,” Sadie said, nodding. “I’ll be careful.”
“Thank you,” May said with a smile. “I appreciate your understanding.”
She stopped, and Sadie realized they’d looped back to the house. The sidewalk was a full circle; they hadn’t crossed any streets. May continued. “I’ll show you to the study. Her room is on the opposite side of the house, so I don’t think we’ll disturb her too much; I just didn’t want her to overhear us.”
Sadie followed May through a living room decorated in the soft pinks and blues of the early eighties. She’d always liked that color scheme herself; too bad it hadn’t remained popular. The floor plan of the house was such that the living room was the center of the home, with the kitchen off to the side. A hallway stretched toward the back of the house and another one stretched to the right of the living room. May led Sadie down the back one, but Sadie looked over her shoulder at the one they hadn’t taken, counting three closed doors. Bedrooms, she assumed. Maybe a bathroom as well. Jolene was behind one of the doors.
“Here it is,” May said, standing to the side of an open doorway.
Sadie walked past her and took in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on one wall and the white-painted paneling on the other walls. There was a large desk flanked by bone-colored filing cabinets. The desk was quite tidy, with a computer taking up most of the d
esk space. There were no pictures on the wall or plants or anything that would be called decorative, attesting to the fact that this had been a man’s office for a long time. A shrink-wrapped stack of flattened file boxes lay in the middle of the floor.
“The filing cabinet on the right of the desk is business related,” May said, coming into the room and closing the door behind her. “I’m pretty sure all the original contracts between Dad and Keith are in there. If you don’t mind boxing them up while you go through them, that would be great.” She waved toward the file boxes on the floor. “To, you know, keep up appearances.”
“Sure,” Sadie said. She faced May and ignored most of what she wanted to talk about, which was Richard and cancer and the holes left in May’s life by both of them. “Do you happen to have a copy machine?” she asked, looking around the office but seeing only a small printer. “I don’t want to hold on to originals, but I might want to take some papers back to the hotel to look over later.”
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