Match Made in Court

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Fortunately Linnea returned immediately. She locked the front door, took Hanna’s hand, and walked ahead of Matt down the concrete steps to the sidewalk. He asked about her booster seat, but Linnea said that she hadn’t thought to get it from Hanna’s house, and anyway she was getting almost tall enough to do without. His niece looked tiny to him, but he didn’t know that many children and it made sense that she was taking after her parents, both tall.

  Linnea sat beside him in front, her purse clutched on her lap. Although she leaned back, her spine seemed very straight. She stayed quiet unless he asked her a direct question or she was telling him where to turn. He was a lot more conscious of her than he liked being, maybe because he kept catching an elusive scent that made him think of baking. Vanilla, maybe?

  The pizza place was nearly empty, this being a weeknight. They ordered: half cheese to accommodate Hanna’s preference, sausage and veggies for the two adults. Pop all around, although he would have liked a beer. He was dragging some, but feeling more fatigue and disorientation than drowsiness. From experience, Matt knew that adjusting to the time change would take him days if not weeks. He was going to have trouble falling asleep tonight.

  Once they were settled in a booth, he on the opposite side from Hanna and Linnea, he said, “So, Banana, what did you do today while your aunt Linnea worked?”

  “I went to Grandma and Granddad’s,” she said in a soft voice.

  He felt a spurt of anger, and his eyes met Linnea’s. Why, in her message last night, hadn’t she told him where Hanna would be? He could have gone to see her earlier today.

  Her chin rose and she stared at him, making it obvious that withholding Hanna’s whereabouts today had been deliberate.

  “I’ve been looking forward all day to seeing you,” he said to Hanna, while still watching her aunt.

  Hanna drummed her heels and played with the straw in her drink. After a minute, Linnea said, “My mother is…not entirely rational right now.”

  He unclenched his teeth. “Exactly what does that mean?”

  She slid a meaningful glance sideways at the six-year-old.

  Matt leaned back in the booth. After a minute, he asked, “Did you do anything fun?”

  Hanna shook her head hard and kept twirling the straw.

  “She did help me walk the Millers’ two Irish setters this morning,” Linnea said lightly. “We’ll go back tonight. I do petsitting,” she added. “These two dogs love kids and are really excited when Hanna comes.”

  “Do you like dogs?” he asked her.

  She nodded vigorously, still not looking up. Matt knew that she’d wanted a pet, but Tess and Finn hadn’t let her have one because they were away from home so much.

  “Does your aunt Linnea have a dog?” he asked.

  She shook her head, her blond hair—damn near the color of Linnea’s, he noticed for the first time—flying back and forth.

  “I have a cat,” Finn’s sister told him. “A fat, elderly, black cat named Spooky who particularly hates dogs. And cats. Um…and children.”

  A tiny giggle escaped Hanna.

  “Except Hanna. Spooky makes an exception for Hanna.”

  “Because I’m quiet!” his niece burst out.

  The cat, Linnea said, had just appeared on her doorstep some years back and bellowed to be let in. Her face relaxed as she talked, and he realized how much prettier she was when she felt confident or was happy. She had a quiet glow when she smiled at Hanna, who was listening even though she must have heard about Spooky’s late-night arrival on Aunt Linnie’s doorstep before.

  “At my veterinarian’s best guess,” she said, “Spooky is fifteen or sixteen now and therefore entitled to be set in her ways.”

  “Is that your mother’s excuse, too?” he murmured, then was sorry when her expression closed and that glow vanished. “Sorry,” he tried to say, but she ignored him. Their number had been called, and she took Hanna with her to get the pizza and plates for all of them.

  Eventually, after stealing a glance at Hanna, who had retreated behind her hair, Linnea did ask politely where he was staying, and whether his flight had gone smoothly, but all signs of any real personality were gone, thanks to his stupid dig. It wasn’t that he regretted hurting her; she’d deliberately kept Hanna away from him today. But, like it or not, he needed her cooperation right now. Hoping to regain lost ground, he told her a little about the project he’d been working on in Kuwait City and a few impressions of the country. He’d e-mailed photos to Hanna, who had e-mailed back with a six-year-old’s phonetic spelling to say that Mommy said the Kuwait Towers looked like spaceships. Not rocket ships, she’d added. They looked like the spaceship in the movie E.T.

  But the conversation was between the two adults. Hanna sometimes whispered a one- or two-word answer when he asked her a question. She stole looks at him, and otherwise hid behind her hair. She ate one piece of pizza, then shook her head when Linnea asked if she’d like more. He had no idea if that was a normal amount for a kid her age to eat.

  By the time they left the pizza parlor, Matt was feeling edgy and unhappy to have to concede that maybe it was just as well that Hanna was able to stay with her aunt Linnea for a few days or a week. Despite their e-mails, she’d have been scared to death if she’d had to go with him right now. And, while he was being honest with himself, he also had to admit that he would have a hell of a lot to learn about parenting.

  He offered to drive them to their dog-walking gig. Linnea politely declined. Apparently the dogs had to be taken out closer to bedtime. Nor did she invite him in when they got home.

  He insisted on escorting them to the door. Hanna did say, “Goodbye, Uncle Matt,” to his good-night, then turned a trusting face to her aunt. “Aunt Linnie, can I watch TV?”

  Linnea looked briefly troubled but nodded. “Sure, honey. Let me talk to your uncle Matt for a minute and then I’ll be in.”

  Both remained silent until they heard the TV come on. Linnea stayed on the doorstep facing him. He was aware of how slender she was, how he dwarfed her. He wondered if she felt as fragile to the touch as she looked, then cursed himself for even thinking about something like that.

  When she spoke, it wasn’t to share her worries about Hanna but instead to say, “You can’t go to my parents’ house.”

  The anger burned in his chest like an ulcer. “Why?”

  “Mom’s upset. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  “She’s upset?” he said incredulously. “My sister is the one who is dead.”

  “She doesn’t believe the charges. She thinks…” Her teeth worried her lip. “I don’t know. That Tess fell, and this is all trumped up to get Finn in trouble. She thinks it must be political, either somebody in his firm who doesn’t want him making partner, or because he was being talked about as a candidate for the house. She just…” Linnea struggled for words, then gave up. “I think it would be better if you’d stay away from her for now.”

  He swore, then reluctantly nodded. “All right. But I want to spend time with Hanna.”

  “I’ve promised her to Mom tomorrow, but if you want, the next day we can try to plan something.”

  “Try?” he echoed.

  “You can take her for the day, if you want. I’ll be home, so you can make the visit as short as you want or have her all day.”

  After a minute, he nodded. “All right. If you don’t have to leave for work, shall we say…nine?”

  They left it at that. He walked to his car feeling irritated and dissatisfied, but not sure if he was justified or was being churlish. He’d wanted Hanna to fly into his arms in delight, to chatter to him, to remember their good times together. He’d wanted to talk to her about her mother.

  Instead, he’d been painfully aware that Hanna saw him as a stranger. So he’d spent his evening engaging in stilted conversation with Finn’s sister, whom Hanna clearly did trust.

  And, yeah, he was petty enough to resent that. He also had a suspicious enough nature to wonder if L
innea would use the advantage she’d gained by proximity to keep Hanna from turning to him.

  It was a minute before he started his car. One step at a time, Matt told himself. Find a house. Spend time with Hanna. Be patient.

  His jaw flexed and he put his car in gear.

  Do not, for a minute, think about Finn Sorensen’s sister as an ally. She’s not one.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TODAY WAS HANNA’S FIRST solo outing with her uncle Matt, and it hadn’t started auspiciously. She’d ducked her head when he said hello, and turned huge, pleading eyes on Linnea as he led her out the front door with his big hand on her shoulder.

  Practically from the moment she had closed the front door behind them, Linnea had felt guilty. Why hadn’t she said, “Stop. Hanna needs to get to know you again before you take her on your own.”

  Dumb question. She was so unaccustomed to being confrontational, it always took her half an hour to figure out what she should have done or said. Anyway—Hanna did need to spend time with him, if they were to build a relationship. And Linnea was so awfully uncomfortable with him, she didn’t want to keep putting herself in the middle.

  Now she had something else to regret. Why, oh why, had she felt compelled to answer the phone when she could see that it was her mother calling? And why had she chosen now to tell Mom that Tess’s brother was in town, and she was allowing him to see Hanna?

  “You had dinner with that awful man?” Mary Sorensen sounded aghast. “What were you thinking, Linnea? Or were you?”

  Linnea gritted her teeth. How many times in her life had she heard that from her mother? Don’t you ever think? Had she ever once said it to Finn?

  “He’s Hanna’s uncle. He has a right—”

  “He was always just shy of rude,” her mother continued. “Poor Finn, having to put up with him! That was one of the things he and Tess disagreed about, you know. Finn didn’t like Matt’s influence on Hanna. So the least we can do now…”

  Poor, misunderstood Finn, who couldn’t possibly have argued violently enough with his wife for her to die? Outrage strengthened Linnea’s determination.

  “He has the right to see her,” she repeated stubbornly.

  The small, chilly silence was enough to make her brace herself. “Not,” her mother snapped, “if Finn has anything to do with it. Didn’t it occur to you to consult your brother before you made any decisions on your own? He is Hanna’s father, after all. What’s more, I feel quite sure he knows how to ensure that man has no contact whatsoever with our precious Hanna.”

  That man, said with such disdain, made it sound as if Matt was the accused criminal, not Finn. But why, Linnea thought in frustration, was she surprised? Her mother had always worn blinders where Finn was concerned.

  “I don’t think Finn is in a very good position right now to try to shut Tess’s brother out of Hanna’s life.”

  “As her father, he has every right—”

  Linnea never interrupted her mother. Now she did, struggling to keep her voice level. “The police think he killed Tess. He’s in trouble, Mom.”

  “Do you know what Finn told me today? They’ve decided Tess hit the coffee table too hard to have simply fallen. As if they can tell any such thing. They certainly haven’t produced any kind of weapon. And even they don’t deny that Finn called 911 the minute she fell. He was scared to death!”

  That was it? The force of the blow to her head? So little to justify charging Finn with murder. And the police had arrested him on the spot, handcuffing him and hauling him away to jail like any common criminal. Linnea was shaking her head almost before her mother quit speaking. She didn’t believe that was the only reason Finn had been arrested. She’d read enough mysteries to know that the police couldn’t have determined how much force was applied simply by looking at Tess lying there on the floor. They would have waited for the pathologist’s report to come to any such conclusion. Especially given who Finn was. They’d have been wary about charging a high-powered attorney with murder. No, there must have been something else. Something Finn wasn’t telling Mom.

  But arguing with her mother never got Linnea anywhere, so she…didn’t. In her rare moments of defiance, she quietly did what she wanted without telling her mother. This time, though, was different. For one thing, when Hanna was with her grandparents she would be likely to mention her uncle Matt. And for another, Linnea was determined to keep Hanna with her. Finn might be her father, but he wasn’t a good one. If the courts determined that he hadn’t killed Tess, Linnea might not be able to do anything about him reclaiming his daughter. But if he really had killed Tess, he didn’t deserve to have Hanna. She wouldn’t be safe with him.

  Linnea hadn’t quite figured out how she would defy her brother if he showed up at the door to reclaim Hanna, but somehow she would have to. One reason she was encouraging Matt, selfishly, was that he would back her. He wouldn’t want Hanna having any contact at all with her father.

  Linnea said, “Hanna is with Matt right now, Mom. They went to the zoo.”

  Her mother’s voice rose. “You let him take her, without any supervision? What makes you think he’ll bring her back? What if he gets on a plane with her and takes her to…to Egypt or Libya or wherever it is he lives these days? We’ll never see her again!”

  Linnea rolled her eyes at the histrionics. “Mom, Hanna doesn’t have a passport. And Matt isn’t going anywhere until after Tess’s funeral for sure, and probably not until after the trial, if there is one. Anyway, he works for an American company. He’s only there temporarily. And it’s Kuwait, not Libya.”

  “What difference does it make? Linnea, I’m calling Finn this minute. If you can’t use any common sense, perhaps Hanna would be better off with him, whether he’s preoccupied with this ridiculous case or not. Now, you call me the minute Hanna’s home again, and I’ll—”

  Heart pounding, Linnea hung up. On her mother. Oh, Lord. She’d never done that before. Sometimes she…well, tuned out. But Mom never knew she wasn’t really listening. This act would enrage her mother.

  I don’t care! she thought defiantly. If Mom was really calling Finn, Linnea had to think what to do. She wanted to believe she could stand up to her brother, but the quavering she felt inside made her horribly afraid she wouldn’t be able to when the moment came. And she hated the idea of an ugly scene in front of Hanna, no matter the outcome.

  But Hanna couldn’t go home with Finn. It made Linnea shudder to imagine Hanna hiding up in her bedroom, afraid to see where her mother’s body had lain, afraid to make her daddy mad, scared and lonely.

  Linnea’s parents weren’t an alternative; Dad had battled multiple sclerosis for years, and stress made it worse. He was in remission right now, but still had up days and down days.

  No. Linnea’s fingernails bit into her palms. Somehow, even if she had to run away with Hanna, she’d keep her from Finn.

  Hanna and her uncle had been gone for barely two hours. A new worry seized Linnea. What if Mom had called Finn, and he showed up just as Matt was returning with Hanna? Linnea had seen his cold rage. As volatile as Finn was, the idea of the two men confronting each other horrified her.

  Her legs felt shaky when she went to the front window to look out, hoping—even though it was way too soon—that they would be back. The weather wasn’t great for going to the zoo. If Hanna got cold, would Matt have made alternate plans?

  Linnea couldn’t make herself concentrate enough to read or settle to doing needlework or even stick to housecleaning. Her heart bumped every time she heard a car outside, and in the next thirty minutes she hurried to the front window half a dozen times. She always stood to one side of it and barely peeked around the edge of the drape. If Finn showed up, she didn’t want him to see her. She wouldn’t answer the door. He could knock all he wanted, but eventually he would go away.

  If Finn did come, Linnea decided, she would call Matt’s cell phone and tell him not to bring Hanna home until she called again. She would head off a confrontation. H
e was reasonable enough to do as she asked, even if he was angry. At least, she thought he was.

  An hour had passed before a car did pull up in front, and it was Matt’s rental, not Finn’s Lexus. Linnea hurried to open the front door, anxiously watching the street as Matt and Hanna got out. Hanna spotted her and raced up to the porch, flinging her arms around Linnea’s legs.

  “I missed you!” When she looked up, her face was pinched.

  Linnea lifted her onto her hip and kissed the top of her head. “Didn’t you have fun?”

  Matt, arriving on the doorstep, looked grim. “No,” he said. “I don’t think she had fun.”

  “Why not?” she asked, then backed up. “Come in.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t,” he said, handing over Hanna’s pink parka.

  “Please. I’d like to talk to you.”

  His mouth tightened, but after a moment he gave a curt nod and stepped inside. Linnea hurriedly closed and locked the door.

  “Did you have lunch?”

  He shook his head. “Hanna said she wasn’t hungry.”

  Linnea looked down at her niece. “Not even a little bit? It’s noon, and you hardly nibbled at breakfast. What if I make you a peanut butter and honey sandwich? Or…Oh! What about grilled cheese?”

  The little girl snuffled and rubbed her face on Linnea’s sweatshirt. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “I’ll heat soup and make sandwiches,” Linnea decided, leading the way to the kitchen.

  He followed, to her relief. When she asked, he poured milk for Hanna and her and juice for himself while she dumped tomato soup in a pot and started slicing cheddar cheese. Hanna stuck close to her, a silent, ghostlike presence, while her uncle Matt sat at the kitchen table and watched her with a brooding gaze. The atmosphere reminded Linnea unpleasantly of home, when Finn would sulk about something and she tried to avoid drawing his attention and her mother insisted that obviously he’d been wronged and shouldn’t she go into the school and talk to the principal? Dad, of course, slipped away to his den.