The Stepchild

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The Stepchild Page 16

by Joanne Fluke


  “Yes, Miss Vivian,” Sally answered quickly. “If Miss Kathi calls, I’ll take a number and page you at the club.”

  “That’s right,” Vivian said. She felt a little foolish as she hung up the phone. Sally would know that she was concerned about Kathi now, but that didn’t matter. Sally knew more about her moods and troubles than anyone else, anyway. Of course she never pried, but it was comforting to know that Sally understood. Whenever she was upset, Sally would somehow know and bring her a cup of her favorite tea or a freshly picked bouquet from the garden. She had an uncanny knack for knowing things. Vivian just hoped that Sally didn’t know the real reason she was upset. Of course, she couldn’t know anything about that. Sally hadn’t started working for them until it was all over. And she’d been marvelously patient with the little girl who had nightmares and attacks of sudden fear. She’d have to speak to Doug about a special bonus for Sally this year, something extra to show their appreciation for her loyalty. Sally deserved everything they could give her.

  “Say there, lady, don’t I know you from somewhere?” A familiar voice spoke in her ear, and Vivian whirled around, startled, to face Doug who was grinning widely.

  “I seem to have lost my wife, and I thought the two of us could get together for a few drinks,” he teased. “How about it, beautiful?”

  “Well, if you’re sure your wife won’t mind,” Vivian laughed. “I hear she’s been a terrible crab lately, and you certainly look like you could use a little fun.”

  “My wife is never a crab.” Doug grinned, draping his arm around her shoulders. Then an expression of concern crossed his face, and he abruptly dropped his teasing game. “Is there anything wrong, Viv? You were gone for quite a while.”

  “No, nothing. I was just checking in with Sally, and I got tied up returning some calls. Bridge club, meetings, that sort of thing. I’m all through now.”

  She slipped her arm through Doug’s. “Come on, Mr. Senator, sir. Let’s go watch Jerry make a fool of himself with the new cocktail waitress.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Kathi had never been nervous about flying before, but she found herself clutching David’s hand tightly as they circled in a holding pattern over the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. David had explained that they would rent a car and drive the rest of the way to Swanville, a little over a hundred miles.

  “You’re going to love it there, honey,” David promised cheerfully, throwing their suitcases into the trunk of the rented car and starting the engine. “We came at just the right time. The snow hasn’t hit yet, and it’s pretty warm for this time of year. Wait until you see the woods! We can pick up some pinecones to take back with us.”

  He looked over at Kathi, who was huddled up against the door of the car. She was looking out the window, but David had the feeling that she was seeing nothing, lost in one of her strange dreams. Well . . . that would soon be over. He was counting on the change of scene and his friendly parents to draw her out of this. It wouldn’t be long before Kathi would be herself again.

  “I . . . I think I’ll take a little nap, David,” Kathi said, closing her eyes against the brightness of the sun. “I’m a little tired from the plane trip.”

  “Sure, hon. That’s a good idea,” David agreed gratefully. At least he wouldn’t have to make one-sided conversation with Kathi sleeping. Besides, the nap would do her good. She’d be rested and relaxed when she met his parents.

  The moment her eyes closed, Kathi knew it had been a mistake. The voices were louder with her eyes closed, as if by blocking out the sense of sight, they gathered strength.

  “Take it, Baver . . . take the Tiger. You can talk to the Tiger, and then you won’t cry. Here, the Tiger’s your very good friend.”

  “But Baver has a home! Baver lives here with me! He doesn’t need a new home, Auntie! Tell them! Tell those bad ladies that!”

  “You’re too little to understand now, honey. Just stop crying. He’ll be just fine. He’ll have a new Mommy and Daddy who will love him, and he’ll be just fine.”

  “No! He doesn’t need a new Mommy and Daddy! Don’t you know? Mommy and Daddy are coming back! They’re coming back to get us!”

  “The trip would do her good, Irv. She’s been sitting here staring out the window. Poor little tyke. I don’t think she’s ever going to get over it. I know it was best for the boy, but they should have considered her!”

  “Shhhh! She might hear you. Can’t question the workings of the Lord, Dorothy. I’ll arrange it, though. She’ll like the train, and we’ll both go. Maybe it’ll get her mind off him. We’ve got to do something, or the poor little thing’ll just waste away.”

  “You’re coming home, Sheri Bear . . . home again, where you belong. Home with Mommy and Daddy and Baver.”

  At last the voices stopped, and there was only the sound of the motor, a comforting humming that made Kathi feel secure. She felt David’s hand on her cheek, the tenderness in his touch, and she almost opened her eyes. Just a little longer, and she would pretend to wake. She had to convince him that everything was just fine. She didn’t want David to worry about her. Things would be much easier if he thought she was getting better. How could she ever get him to leave her alone, if he was worried about her? She needed time alone in Swanville. . . .

  Her eyes opened against her will. They were almost there now, and she could feel the tension claim her body even more tightly than before. She knew instinctively that it was only a matter of minutes before they came to the town. Everything was frighteningly familiar as she gazed out at the rolling fields spread out on either side of the road like giant muted-brown checkerboards. There was an aura of death in the air, the death of summer, and Kathi shivered.

  “Well, sleepyhead!” David’s voice was determinedly cheerful. “I was wondering if you’d ever wake up. We’re almost there. Why don’t you roll down that window and sniff some air that isn’t smoggy? That should be a real treat for your lungs.”

  Kathi obediently reached for the handle, cranking down the window and inhaling deeply. The air smelled warm and rich, leaves drying in the sun with a hint of a passing stream and its cool humid scent. David was right. This air smelled nothing like California smog. Here, things were grown without irrigation, fed by underground streams and rich soil. And now, in the late fall, the leaves were swirling in the wind, blowing up against the wooden snow fences, gathering in piles. She could see the woods by the side of the narrow road, the carpet of fallen leaves and the lovely, deep darkness behind the bordering trees. It was beautiful—beautiful and frightening—and Kathi gave a little shiver of apprehension.

  “Be careful of the tracks!” she warned suddenly, leaning forward to peer out of the windshield.

  “What tracks?” David asked, glancing at her curiously out of the corner of his eye.

  “The ones right up there!” Kathi said, pointing ahead where the road curved sharply to the left.

  David made the turn before he saw the tracks, stretching out like a converging triangle in the distance. There was a sign on the shoulder of the road and David drove on, bumping across the tracks.

  He glanced at her sharply, but she was staring out the side window again, seeming to enjoy the scenery. How had she known about that crossing? There must have been a sign earlier that he’d missed. He wasn’t used to taking this road into town. He’d only done it to show Kathi more of the countryside. It was a back road, seldom used now that the new highway had gone through. It used to be the main road, but now it had fallen into disrepair.

  “Here we are, hon!” David announced, pulling up into a wide driveway at the top of a hill. “My dad just built this house three years ago. They’re a little secluded up here, but they like it that way. Look at that view!”

  “Yes!” Kathi breathed, clenching her fingers into a ball. “Just look at it!”

  She had been here before, many times. They’d brought a big basket of food up here for picnics, but there hadn’t been a house then. Just the view of the roofs
below, looking like colored building blocks in the sun.

  “There’s ours, Auntie! The brown one right down there!”

  “Where? Where? I don’t see!”

  “You’re too little, Baver. I’ll show you next time. You can see it real good when you’re bigger. Do you want me to get you a sandwich? A nice peanut-butter sammie?”

  There had been the woods then, and the lake with fierce underwater monsters in the shape of minnows that nibbled at their toes. And something else too . . . something much more terrifying than pretend monsters. Close by, right over that hill, were the railroad tracks—the gleaming silver bands of her nightmares.

  CHAPTER 25

  Harry flung the operative report into the corner with disgust. “Oh, hell,” he groaned, flipping his glasses off onto the desk so hard they bounced. It was a feeble attempt to dispel the gathering anxiety he felt. The only answer for this kind of feeling was work, and Harry attacked the files on his desk with a vengeance, searching for some sort of answer.

  The coffee-stained folder at the very bottom of the pile was the one Harry was set to examine tonight. He’d already been over the file several times, but his uneasiness grew as he pulled it out of the stack and started to read. Somewhere in this huge collection of files, he’d seen the name Sheri, but he’d be damned if he could remember where.

  All the documents in this file were old, including Doug’s application for a marriage license in the state of Minnesota, listing Roma Haight as his intended bride. Roma was dead now, and had been for nearly twenty years. She was a part of Doug’s past though, and Harry examined the photostats carefully, searching for something, although he wasn’t sure what.

  It was the normal pattern. Roma and Doug had gone through high school together and married while Doug was still in law school. Kathi had been born the year before he graduated, and the couple had settled in Little Falls where Doug set up his own small practice. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in these reports.

  Harry paged through the will that Roma’s parents had left when they died. The elder Haights had provided handsomely for Roma and Kathi, setting aside a large sum of money for their daughter and grandchild. There was no mention of Doug in the will, but that wasn’t really unusual. It was a straight family legacy handed down in strict bloodlines. In the event of Roma’s death, the remaining Haight estate was to be liquidated, and the money deposited into an account for Kathi, naming Doug and the First American National Bank of St. Cloud as coexecutors. It was material that Harry had read before, and there were no surprises forthcoming. Reports from the bank indicated that Doug had made large withdrawals from the account after Roma’s death, apparently to pay for Kathi’s extended hospitalization and medical care, an expense that the bank had accepted without question.

  A deep furrow spread across Harry’s receding hairline as he frowned in concentration. Now that he thought about it, the situation was a bit unusual. The money hadn’t been left to Doug in the case of Roma’s death. It had been carefully set up so that Doug would never directly inherit any of the Haight money.

  The first seed of worry started to germinate as Harry kicked his chair over to the bookcase and located the Minnesota statutes on inheritance. He had simply assumed that Minnesota was a community property state.

  Suspicion grew as Harry flipped pages in the legal volume. Minnesota had not been a community property state at the time of Roma’s death. The Haights had been explicit about the property settlement. Doug was carefully excluded from the will, except to act as coexecutor with the bank after Roma’s death.

  Harry found the passage he was searching for and frowned again as he refreshed his memory. His expression was pained as he pushed himself back to the desk and pulled out the file on the accident. If Kathi had died in the wreck, Doug would have been left penniless as far as the Haight inheritance was concerned. The money would have reverted back to the bank and been bequeathed to the Christ Lutheran Church of St. Cloud.

  “So what?” Harry muttered, realizing that he was probably grasping at straws, being so suspicious of the Haight will. Kathi had not died in the accident. This was a fruitless exercise on his part. He was wasting his time hypothesizing about a situation that had not occurred.

  “What ifs,” Harry groaned, paging through the accident report. “I should know better than to get hung up on what ifs.”

  * * *

  Doug was taking a shower, and Vivian knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her over the sound of the water. Quickly, she found her personal phone directory and located Bev Smith’s home number. Kathi was probably with Bev in Arizona. Harry must have got the name wrong.

  “Kathi?” Mrs. Smith sounded puzzled. “No, Kathi’s not here. We weren’t expecting her. Bev’s gone to spend a week in Taos with her sister, and she didn’t say anything about Kathi before she left. Did you want the number, Mrs. Ellison?”

  “Oh, no, thank you,” Vivian said. “That’s really not necessary. I just tried to call Kathi at the dorm today and got no answer, so I assumed she went with Bev.”

  Vivian replaced the receiver with a quick gesture and shook her head. Perhaps it hadn’t been wise calling Bev’s mother. Now Mrs. Smith would tell Bev that she had been looking for Kathi, and Kathi would undoubtedly hear about it. Kathi accused her of being overprotective anyway. Now Vivian was glad that she hadn’t got Bev’s sister’s number. Calling Bev to check up on Kathi was going a little too far. She didn’t want to give Kathi the impression that she didn’t trust her.

  Resolutely, Vivian picked up the jar of cold cream and began to get ready for bed. And she had just told Harry that Doug made mountains out of molehills! There was absolutely nothing wrong with Kathi. She was just being overprotective again.

  * * *

  Sally flicked off the television in her room and settled heavily on the edge of the bed. Miss Vivian had been awful worried about Miss Kathi tonight, and she’d be even more worried if she knew what trouble her little lamb was in. Sally just hoped that the prayin’ and her mama’s ring had helped. She couldn’t do any more to help Miss Kathi unless she called. Sally had been waiting for a call all night, but none had come. She hoped that was a good sign. Perhaps Miss Kathi had discovered what the spirit wanted, and had already done it. In any event, it wouldn’t hurt to pray some more. She was going to pray all night tonight if she could stay awake. Sally had the terrible feeling that this was the time Miss Kathi needed her prayers the most.

  * * *

  Harry had read the newspaper report of the accident before, and he almost passed over it in his search. He was about to set it aside when a name caught his eye. Sharon Walker! Sharon . . . Sheri . . . could they be one and the same? She had been a passenger on the train and been killed in the accident. This couldn’t possibly have any bearing on Kathi . . . or could it?

  Harry blinked rapidly as he skimmed the admitting physician’s report, including a description of Kathi’s multiple injuries. There was an outline of a child’s body with additions written in pen, where the physician had noted Kathi’s identifying features and marks.

  Harry grinned slightly when he saw the star-shaped birthmark on the drawing. What a birthmark! He bet she’d got plenty of teasing from the boys at the beach when she wore a swimsuit.

  “High on the left upper thigh,” Harry read aloud. He chuckled appreciatively. A star meant first class, and Kathi’s thighs were certainly that!

  Harry smiled even wider as he realized that he was acting like a dirty old man. Maybe that was what David and Kathi were doing right now, examining the birthmark on her thigh.

  Suddenly Harry stopped grinning and pulled out another file drawer. That small seed of suspicion had begun to flower, and he scattered files all over the floor as he searched for Kathi’s birth records. This was it. He was right again, and this one was a beaut!

  CHAPTER 26

  Vivian sat upright in bed as she heard the front doorbell. Her eyes automatically sought the luminous dial of the clock, and she sat up
even straighter, wiping the sleep from her eyes. It was close to midnight. Who in the world would be ringing the doorbell at this hour?

  There were voices in the downstairs hallway. She recognized Sally’s disgruntled tones and the deeper, angry voice of a man. She snapped on the light over her side of the bed and slid her feet into slippers as Sally’s footsteps plodded up the stairs.

  “Miss Vivian?” Sally called out, knocking softly. “Miss Vivian? Mr. Adams is downstairs, and he wants to see you and Mr. Doug right away. I told him you was sleepin’, but he says it can’t wait. He sounds awful mad, Miss Vivian, so I put him in the den to wait for you.”

  “All right, Sally,” Vivian answered. “Tell him we’ll be right down.”

  Doug was sitting up in bed by this time, yawning widely. Vivian put her hand on his arm and smiled. “If you’re really tired, dear, I can go down and talk to Harry,” she offered. “I could just tell him that you’re too tired. I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t wait until morning. Harry probably doesn’t even realize what time it is.”

  “No,” Doug protested, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He looked puzzled as he noticed the time. “Even Harry draws the line at midnight. Just throw me my robe, will you?”

  Vivian tossed Doug his robe and slippers, and zipped up her long housecoat. She ran a quick comb through her hair while Doug was tying his robe, and they went down the stairs together.

  Harry whirled around angrily when Doug and Vivian appeared in the doorway. He had been pacing the floor, growing more and more impatient and incensed with each passing second.

  “Shut the door!” he snapped. “We sure as hell don’t want any witnesses to this conversation!”

  Vivian had her mouth open, about to ask Harry if he wanted coffee or a drink. She closed it quickly as she noticed his flushed face and the way his hands were balled into fists. She crossed to a chair as her knees grew weak, and she sank down quickly. Something was terribly wrong, and she had the feeling that she knew exactly what it was. Somehow, Harry had found out! He knew!

 

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