Bed of Lies

by Pam Champagne

  “Deny it if it feeds your sadness, but I tried to tell you many times. You always brushed me off.”

  “You could have made me listen,” she insisted.

  Determination prodded him to fight for their love. “What about our vows? We’re twin souls, remember? Nothing will come between us? You promised—”

  “No! I didn’t promise. I knew when you asked for my promise something was wrong, but I never expected that…never thought my daughter was alive and you were keeping it a secret.”

  “It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

  Her chest heaved with emotion. “No, I don’t. You should have contacted me years ago. You should never have left town without seeing me in the first place.”

  He was wasting his breath. Brenna wasn’t ready to listen to reason. Hell, she might never be ready. “Good night. I’ll be in the den working.”

  Brenna grabbed a can of Coke from refrigerator and popped the top, the sound a loud echo in the silent kitchen. She lowered herself into a chair at the kitchen table. Why wasn’t she pleased that Ace had accepted her decision to be done with him? It’s what she wanted.

  A sharp pain pierced her stomach at all the years she’d missed of Kayden’s life. Never saw her first smile, first tooth, first steps. Perhaps Ace had taken videos. Even so, did she want to see them? Or would they add fuel to the resentment already grinding in her chest?

  Sheba whined and nosed her thigh. Brenna scratched the dog behind the ears. “Things have been rough, haven’t they, girl?” The dog’s tail thumped a loud beat on the linoleum. “Life will get better.”

  After taking a mouthful of the soda, she dumped the rest down the sink. “Come on, girl. Let’s go to bed.” With the dog on her heels, Brenna made her way to the stairs. The door to the den was closed and she could hear the low thrum of Ace’s voice and wondered who he talked to. Was it Kayden? Would he tell her the truth tonight?

  She trudged up the steps, intending to go straight to bed. At the top of the landing, her legs followed their own agenda, and she moved towards her mother’s room. For a moment, she stood in the doorway. The stale stench of cigarette smoke lingered, making her fingers itch to open a window.

  In her mother’s room, she wandered around, trying to get an understanding of what had made her mother tick. Something that had been a mystery her entire life. She stopped in front of an old cedar hope chest. Memories of an incident that occurred several years ago flickered in her mind.

  She’d been looking for a winter scarf and was about to open the chest when her mother charged into the room. “Get out of there. What do you think you’re doing?” she’d hollered. “Stay out of my personal things.”

  Surprised at her mother’s anger, Brenna had jumped as if stung. Never again had she violated her mother’s privacy, but she’d always wondered what secrets that wooden box held.

  The cedar chest loomed big in her vision, and she wrestled with her conscience. She convinced herself she had no reason to feel guilty. Everything in this room needed to be dealt with. Why not start now?

  The locked chest presented no problem. She knew exactly where her mother had kept the key. She flipped open the ancient faded leather jewelry box that had sat on the dresser for as long as she could remember. Lifting out the top shelf, she picked up a small brass key.

  Her fingers trembled and she had to try twice before she managed to fit the key into the lock. The lid sprung open and her first glance filled her with disappointment. Three wool blankets smelling of mothballs lay neatly folded across the length of the inside.

  She held her breath as she took them out. Mothballs made her nose tickle and reminded her of the elderly. A box tied together with a piece of red ribbon caught her eye. She pulled on one end of the red bow, flipped off the cover and removed a pile of papers. As she leafed through them, anxiety rode her hard. Suddenly, she faced her fear head-on as she stared at the proof of her parents’ treachery. Kayden’s birth certificate, stapled to the adoption papers she’d signed, believing she signed a death certificate. The truth had been as close as the next room all these years. Had her mother kept them, hoping that one day Brenna would learn the truth?

  Setting the documents aside, she continued rifling through the pile. She came to a sealed envelope with hers and Colin’s name on the outside. She tore it open and removed a letter.

  Dear Brenna and Colin,

  If you’re reading this, then I’ve passed on. Hopefully, to a better place…a kinder place. I know that I’ve not been a good mother. No, it’s worse than that. I’ve failed you both. Especially you, Brenna. My excuse for years was my fear of your father’s wrath if I didn’t go along with his plans. After he died, I knew you’d leave Spruce Harbor if I told you the truth. Colin and I depended on your strength.

  Brenna paused. How odd that her mother and Ace used the same excuse for their dishonesty. She tried to put herself in their place. Would she ever do something so horrendous as to keep a mother from her child? She read on.

  Brenna, I’m not sorry your father parted you and Ace Bear. Racially mixed marriages never work, and over the years I convinced myself that your daughter was better off with her own kind. Can you imagine the life she would have had in Spruce Harbor?

  A quick scan showed her the letter went on with more of the same. Her mother hadn’t been really been asking for Brenna’s forgiveness. Perhaps that’s what she’d had in mind when she’d started writing, but the tune soon changed to justification of her actions. Brenna refolded the letter and stuck it back in the envelope.

  She thumbed through copies of paid mortgage bills, old school report cards for Colin—none of hers—until she came to another envelope. This one had no name on the outside and wasn’t sealed.

  Inside was a legal promissory note made out to Ethel Pinkham and signed by both her parents. Brenna almost choked at the amount. Why would her parents owe Ethel seventy-five thousand dollars? It was dated twelve years ago. The year of Kayden’s birth. She rummaged through the rest of the papers, checking for payment receipts. And found none.

  A small photograph fluttered to the floor. Curious, Brenna picked it up and studied a newborn’s image. The baby had a head full of black hair and sucked on one fist.

  A hand grabbed her shoulder. Brenna stiffened and opened her mouth to scream.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “God! You scared me.”

  Ace reached over Brenna’s shoulder and ran a finger down the photo. “That’s Kayden. It must have been taken at the hospital the day she was born. Where’d you find it?”

  She gestured toward the cedar chest. “In there, along with her birth certificate. Did you file it before you left town?”

  Ace nodded. “I remember holding her, while the clerk filled out the paperwork. God, she was so tiny. Why would your mother have a copy?”

  “Perhaps to punish herself. She was an unhappy woman.” Brenna cleared her throat. She didn’t want to take a trip through the past with Ace. “You might be interested in something else I found.” She handed him the promissory note.

  He whistled. “Our prim and proper Ethel has been one busy lady. I wonder if she was blackmailing your family as well as the Gars? Mind if I take it?”

  “No, of course not. Perhaps my parents simply borrowed money from her. If they did, I hope they paid her back.”

  “Where would a retired schoolteacher get seventy-five thousand dollars to loan?”

  “I still can’t picture that fragile old lady involved in blackmail.”

  “Stranger things have happened. There was a case out west where an eighty-two-year old woman married and killed five husbands for their life insurance policies. Dragged the bodies down into her cellar.”

  Brenna wrinkled her nose. “Maybe you’d better check out Ethel’s cellar. Never know what you might find.”

  Ace didn’t crack a smile. An awkward silence hung in the room. Finally, he spoke. “I came up to tell you that I found a decent used truck for you. It will be delivered
tomorrow. It’s not Old Blue, but it’s as close as I could come. The garage confirmed that your truck’s totaled.”

  “I figured as much. Look, Ace. I know you’re trying to be helpful, but sooner or later, I’ve got to stand on my own two feet. I’m uncomfortable owing you so much money.”

  He brushed off her concerns. “Pay me back when you can or not at all. I’m not worried about it.”

  “I’ll pay you back, if it’s the last thing I do.” As soon as the words left her mouth she realized how vehement she’d sounded. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Forget it,” he bit out on his way to the door. He pivoted to face her. “The preliminary autopsy results are back on your mother. She died of cyanide poisoning. From the pie. No fingerprints on the pie plate other than your mother’s. No poison in any of the other food.”

  The news didn’t affect Brenna. “It’s what we expected. So when can I bury her?”

  “Should I tell the medical examiner to transport the body to the funeral home? You can call and make arrangements.”

  Brenna swiveled back to the hope chest and randomly pawed through its contents. “No arrangements. I’ve decided not to have a funeral. Maybe later I’ll arrange a memorial service. I want to bury her beside my father…the sooner, the better. The ground will be frozen soon, and I’d have to wait until spring.”

  “How many plots did your parents own?”

  Brenna turned away from the pity in Ace’s eyes. “I don’t know. My mother can be laid to rest in the baby’s grave that’s been empty all these years. I want the stone there taken away.”

  “Sure. I’ll call and make arrangements right now…for tomorrow. I think the earlier, the better.”

  “Perfect. I don’t want anyone else there.”

  “About tomorrow. I know the last thing you want to do is traipse around town with me all day. Why don’t you call Trent and ask him to come by for the afternoon?”

  The next thing Brenna knew she was on the floor, Ace covering her body. She pushed at his chest. “Get off me”

  “Didn’t you hear that noise outside?” His warm breath on her neck brought goose bumps to her arms.

  She heaved a sigh. “There’s a tree close to the house. One of the branches needs to be cut. It always taps against the pane when the wind blows.” Her body stirred, showing her the ultimate betrayal. Why had things turned out this way? Too much bad history.

  “Oh.” Ace rolled off with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.” He lay on his side, propped on an elbow. Brenna sat up and crab-walked backwards to lean against the cedar chest. Their gazes clung.

  “I love you,” he breathed. Hunger laced with love shone in his eyes. “We were both wronged. Let’s forget the past and start over. You, me and Kayden. Let go of your anger, Brenna. It won’t be easy, but give us a chance.”

  “I’m not angry anymore,” she murmured, surprised she spoke the truth. “Other than a heavy sadness in my chest, I feel dead. I’m sorry. I have nothing left to give.”

  His mouth tightened. Without another word, he bounded to his feet and strode to the door.

  Her voice stopped him. “About tomorrow.”

  “What about it?” he asked without turning around.

  “I should go with you. Chris was shot because he was with me. I don’t want to put anyone else in jeopardy.”

  He nodded and stepped into the hall. She readied herself for the door to slam. Instead, she barely heard it click shut. Somehow that soft noise made everything more final.

  The small casket had been lifted from the ground by the time Ace and Brenna arrived at the cemetery. The sun had yet to rise, although the overcast sky would hide the brilliant pinks and reds Brenna had often watched from this very spot. The heavy fog rolling off the ocean seemed appropriate for the occasion.

  There’d been no conversation this morning. The silence in the car suited Brenna’s mood as the Cherokee climbed the narrow dirt path into the cemetery.

  “They’ve removed the stone,” Ace said in a dull voice.

  “Yes. Thank you for asking them to start work early. What…what will be done with the casket?” It might be a silly question, but for reasons Brenna couldn’t comprehend, she needed to know.

  Ace’s gaze didn’t linger. He averted his eyes. “I imagine it will be destroyed.”

  Suddenly, she knew. “You’re going to open it.”

  He took a deep breath. “Brenna—”

  “It’s all right. It’s probably a good idea to put all the ghosts to rest. “Do it here. Now. I want to see for myself.”

  Ace turned in his seat. Did he think she’d lost her mind? Evidently, whatever he saw in her expression convinced him she was stable because he nodded and got out of the SUV.

  Brenna opened her door and hurried to catch him. She wanted to hear everything. She hid her surprise that Hyman Wuerch, the medical examiner, was there. More proof that Ace thought there might be a body. Please God, don’t let there be a body in that tiny casket.

  Ace came to her side and gently curved a hand around her elbow. “Let’s move back until he opens it.”

  Brenna stumbled to keep up as Ace whisked her toward the Cherokee. “Why? Are you expecting to find something?”

  “I don’t want to take any chances. Your father…” He clamped his mouth closed.

  “Go ahead and say it. It hasn’t stopped you before. My father was a bastard, and nothing he might have done would surprise you.”

  “I’m not going to fight, Brenna. Even if you stick me with pins.”

  Brenna shivered in the damp cold air, despite the fact she was dressed in several layers of heavy clothes. “I know my father was a monster.”

  Ace tapped her shoulder. “Let’s go. Hyman’s waving us back.”

  The medical examiner smiled at Brenna. “Good news. It’s not empty, but there’s no body.”

  Brenna slumped with relief and would have fallen, if not for Ace’s arm around her midriff. She relaxed her jaw, realizing it ached from clenching her teeth.

  She followed Ace to the front of the casket, took a deep breath, peered inside and blinked several times. Laying on pink satin meant for a tiny corpse lay several vacuum-sealed plastic bags.

  “What is it?” Ace asked.

  Brenna was transported back to the semi-sweet days of her pregnancy. Even her grief that Ace had left town, didn’t take away her happiness at having his child. She spent most of her days knitting, sewing and preparing a room for the baby.

  He touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

  “All of Kayden’s baby clothes. Sweaters and blankets that I knitted. Things other people made for her. My mother told me she’d given it all to charity.”

  “Perhaps this was a way of saying goodbye to her granddaughter.”

  Ace reached inside and gathered the three bags.

  Brenna sucked in air. “What are you doing?”

  Ace’s hand stopped in mid-air. “I thought Kayden might like to see how much you looked forward to her arrival.”

  Brenna backed away, shaking her head. He might as well be holding a bagful of tarantulas. “No! They’ve been buried for twelve years. I couldn’t. Throw them out. They’ve rotted with time.”

  A blur of black to the right in her peripheral vision distracted her from the moment. A hearse crept slowly over the rise. Hearses gave her the chills. Long, black trains. What purpose did the curtains in the back windows serve? To hell with tradition. Hearses should be bright. Maybe red or metallic blue.

  The next half hour passed quickly. Brenna watched the actual event, the same way she’d watch a movie. A hysterical giggle bubbled in the back of her throat when Ace stepped forward and spoke a few words at her mother’s grave. She bit her tongue. How ironic that the man her mother hated would be the only person to pray for her soul.

  She ran to the Cherokee and reached into the back for the flowers she’d pulled out of an arrangement Trent had sent to the farm.

  Head high, shoulders squared, she returned to where Ace wa
ited. She placed one white rose on each of the three graves as a final goodbye to her family. Her family was gone. Twelve years ago, her parents had made a decision to ruin her life. Truth be known, she doubted they’d ever had her well-being, or that of Kayden’s, in their minds. They’d done what they’d done for themselves. They never could accept her love for an Indian, so they sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to accept a Cree grandchild. The time had arrived to let go and move on.

  No tears came until she placed the rose on Colin’s grave. She knelt on the hard cold ground and prayed her brother was in a happier place. Despite his tendencies to agree with her parents, she knew that deep down, Colin had loved her and would have eventually accepted Ace and Kayden.

  Ace pulled the Cherokee into the parking lot of a small local diner. “What are you doing?” Brenna asked in surprise.

  “You haven’t spoken a word in the last two hours. Thought perhaps you might be hungry.”

  “Not really.”

  “But you’ll eat.”

  She gave him what he’d long ago labeled the “screw you” look. Ace almost groaned aloud the moment they entered the diner. The heavy smell of grease didn’t make his stomach queasy. All the damn heads turned in their direction did. The contempt on their faces dragged him back to his teenage years. He wanted to punch someone.

  His fingers lightly brushed the back of Brenna’s hand. “Perhaps this wasn’t such a great idea.”

  Brenna lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders and pasted a big smile on her face. “I’m starved.” She strode forward, leaving Ace no choice but to follow. The scene, so reminiscent of their youth, broke his heart. Just like old times—them against the rest of the world.

  He slid across the booth’s vinyl seat. “Are you a glutton for punishment?” His jeans snagged on something sharp.

  Talk about déjà vu. The diagonal tear in the vinyl had been there twelve years ago. He now sat on the same damn bench he’d sat on when he was in high school. The chrome of the stools at the counter still sparkled. Nothing had changed, unfortunately, not even the clientele.