Sara reached for her glass of cognac from a side table, studying Leslie as she did so. She had long dark hair like Sara, and brown eyes with teasing flecks of green and gold that sparkled when the light hit just right. Her stature was taller than Sara’s, but she was thin and knew how to dress. After dinner, though, she had requested tea, proclaiming her dislike for the taste of coffee, saying that she had given it up years ago, which, of course, Sara couldn’t fathom.
“How long are you in town?” Sean asked.
Sara glanced over at him as she tucked her legs beneath her. The amber alcohol was beginning to work.
“Well, there is no rush for me to get back for a while. I took a sabbatical.”
Sara straightened. Another similarity perhaps? While many professions took them, Sara had a feeling. Was it possible while she had fought for justice with a badge, her mother did so from behind a desk? “Are you a judge or a lawyer?”
“Doctor.”
“Oh.”
Leslie smiled. “I take it you never expected that one.”
“Not really.” Sara offered a brief smile. The thoughts parading in her mind gave off constant natter. Here was the woman who gave her life and Sara knew nothing about her. The dinner had been filled with awkward moments of silence, cautious glances, and the resultant polite smiles.
“Dinner was delicious by the way. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but you don’t have to lie to me.” Sara’s serious delivery had Leslie’s eyes darkening, but the corners pinched in response to Sara’s smile.
“Ah.” Leslie waved with her hand.
“It was good, darling.” Sean took Sara’s hand and kissed the back of it.
“See, now flattery will get you anywhere.” She smiled at him and kept the expression as she looked back to Leslie. The meal had been a bust, the beef, dry and overcooked. The mashed potatoes were lumpy and the broccoli a soggy mess—the latter might as well have been a watery soup with floating green bits. She would definitely be looking into culinary classes once the reception party was behind them.
Leslie crossed her legs and set her glass down. “You have both been very kind. Thank you for accepting me into your home.”
“Yes, well, we’re not going to leave Sara’s mother standing on the porch,” Sean said.
Sara squeezed his hand. “I was actually thinking that…” Sara’s words trailed off, the urge to say Mom stumbled her from the beginning. Was she accepting this too fast? Her mind and heart were saying two different things. And to call this woman her mother, wasn’t that a betrayal to the one who raised her and had been there her entire life?
Both Sean and Leslie were looking at her and she realized she had gone quiet for a length of time.
“Sorry, there is a lot on my mind right now.”
“Dear, I can only imagine,” Leslie said.
“What was it that brought you by Starbucks today?” Sean asked Leslie.
Sara’s eyes shot to him but he kept his focus on Leslie.
“Well, the honest answer?”
“That’s always refreshing.” Sean put on a placating smile.
Leslie’s eyes went between them. “I’ve been watching you two for a while now. It’s why I took a leave from my practice.”
“So you saw us on TV?” Sean slid Sara a sideways glance.
The implication in his question bristled her insides.
“Yes, I did, and I knew right away.”
“You knew what?”
“Please, Sean.” Sara put her hand on his forearm.
“No, Sara, dear, it’s fine. He’s looking out for your best interests. After all, you run into all sorts of money and then bam, your long lost mother, who I’m sure you thought was dead, shows up in your life. Yes, it all sounds mighty convoluted, even to my ears. I will tell you everything you want to know. I want to get to know my daughter.”
Sara tamped down the emotion that whelmed up inside her. “How did you know to find us at Starbucks?”
“Well, you’ve been there for the last few days. From the looks of it, interviewing people. When you were sitting there with time in between, well, I thought this was my opportunity.”
“So you thought a coffee shop was the opportune time to re-enter your daughter’s life?” Sean held up his hand to Sara, communicating, further than his tone, that his intention wasn’t to insult Leslie.
Leslie siphoned her bottom lip through her teeth. “I’m not sure any time would be ideal.” She paused, a faraway look glazing her eyes. “And, when I sat down with you, when you mistook me for your late appointment, well, I took advantage of it.”
Sara got up and walked across the room to Leslie. She stood and the two women hugged.
“Thank you for your courage,” Sara said.
“I’ve waited too long to take this step.” Leslie released Sara, letting her arms fall back to her sides. “But I was afraid of how you would react. You’ve been so good about it.”
As she spoke, Sara studied her eyes and the reflection in them made her stomach toss. Sara believed what this woman was telling her, that she was her birth mother. But why did she get sent to an adoption agency, and why wait so long to find her? They were questions that her mind required answers to, but right now, in this moment, her heart simply wanted to breathe in this sense of belonging. The blood that ran in her, also ran in this woman in front of her.
“I want to ask you something,” Sara began. She heard the tremble in her voice, but pushed through. “Sean and I had a rushed wedding.” She glanced back at him on the couch, his expression a blend of happiness and worry. “Well, we never had a reception at the time and had planned to have one when we returned from our honeymoon. We got married just over two months ago now. March third.”
“I wish I had been there. There’s so much I wish I’d been around for.”
Sara took Leslie’s hand in hers. She noticed her fingers were long and thin, like her own. Again, the heat that told her they belonged. “There’s no way you would have known.”
“No, that’s true.”
Sara glanced back at Sean. She wasn’t sure whether she should verbalize this out loud, as if by doing so she was confessing to a lack in her life, when there really wasn’t one. “I was going to look for you,” she pressed on a small smile, “but you beat me to it.” Sara looked at Sean again and didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes that spoke of surprise. She continued her confession. “Now, that we’re—I’m—in this position, I knew there would be nothing to stand in my way of finding you. Before, well, I didn’t know how to go about it and felt shamed considering it. My parents are wonderful people. I love them dearly.”
Tears filled Leslie’s eyes. “I’m so glad to hear that.”
“Thank you.” She scrutinized Leslie’s eyes, hoping that she could extract the information she needed, not so much the apology for not being around, for placing her into the system, but at least an explanation for her absence. Leslie didn’t seem inclined to offer up her past at this time. While Sara was disappointed, she also appreciated the delicate situation. The darkness that traced the color of Leslie’s eyes communicated she had been through a lot of heartache. Or was it just want she wanted to see?
“We’re having the party here at our house next weekend. Would you like to come?” She wanted to verbalize it more eloquently, more confidently, but fear of rejection laced through her.
“I would love nothing more.”
Differences Of Opinion
THE LIGHT IN THEIR BEDROOM was off, but neither of them were sleeping. Sean tossed and turned while Sara stared at the ceiling. They were just heading into their second week in their new house, but it wasn’t the unfamiliar sounds keeping her awake.
She rolled over to face Sean. “Are you up?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Me either. I still feel bad that we asked her to go back to the hotel when we have seven other bedrooms. It’s just not right.”
“Darling, you don’t even know this woman
.”
She rolled to her back, the pattern in the ceiling quickly becoming familiar. “She’s my mother, Sean.”
“Is she?”
The pain worked on her stomach, chewing it into tiny bits. She let out a deep breath. “Why can’t you just go along with this? Trust my gut? Trust my heart?”
He put his hand on her arm, but rather than her normal reaction, a feeling that warmed her, a chill shivered through her instead. He must not have missed it; he pulled his hand back.
“I know this must be tough for you,” he said.
She turned to look at him. “Do you?” The eye contact that resulted between them was breaking her heart. This would be their first real disagreement. She steeled herself with the logic that it was bound to happen at some point.
She sat up, lifting her legs over the side of the bed, then she wrapped her arms around herself. For having been preaching all day about finally belonging she never felt so isolated and alone.
Sean moved across the bed and placed a hand on her back. This time she melted into his touch, savoring the connection.
“I know that you want to accept that she’s your mother but—”
She looked over her shoulder to him. “I’m not sure why you’re being so stubborn about this.”
He kept his hand on her and caressed her back. “Darling, we just met her this morning.”
“But she’s from Augusta, Maine. I know enough that I was born there.” She swallowed the catch in her voice, just in time.
“That’s an Internet search. You know that.”
She jumped up from the bed and grabbed a silk robe from where it had been draped over a nearby chair.
He shot to his feet behind her, his hands going to her arms, but she shrugged free of him and the pain in his eyes was instant.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded, but there was something that became broken between them in that moment. She hated that feeling. Why couldn’t he just let her be, let her carry on in the world she wanted to belong in?
“I just need you to be there for me. That’s all,” she said. Tears fell down her cheeks now, an automatic reaction to the searing heartache radiating through her system.
He didn’t make a move to touch her again, but his words soothed her. “I truly hope that Leslie Summers is your mother, darling, but until we can be certain…” He let his words trail off, and as she assessed his eyes, he did hers. “If this was anyone else, you’d be telling them the same thing.”
The way his eyes pressed hers, tapped into her reason. She bit down on her lip, not liking the fact she agreed with him, but powerless to fight the validity in his statement. “You’re right.”
“You were right to ask for a DNA test and she agreed to it. That will tell us the truth.”
Another chill went through her and had her pulling tighter on the robe. “That will take a while to come back.”
“Well, until we know, we give this lady the benefit of the doubt.”
“Sean? Are you sure? Just a moment ago—”
“I know what I said, but I love you and if you believe that Leslie is your mother, well, that’s going to have to be enough for me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him close. His embrace was medication for all the hurt that ailed her. With his warmth, his strength, and the smell of his skin, it tilted her world into a place she never wanted to leave. She rested in the notch of his shoulder for a few seconds before lifting her head.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The reception. It’s only a week and a half away and we have no help.”
He smiled at her as he brushed a wild curl away from her face. “We’ve met quite a few lovely ladies in the last couple of days.”
“Yes, we did.” Her mind drifted to that day’s interviews. “I wonder what happened to our four o’clock, Angela Banks. I was looking forward to meeting her. Her resume was quite impressive.”
“I could call her in the morning.”
“That would be wonderful if you would.” She smiled at him but it faded fast, her mind being pulled back to thoughts of Leslie. “I hate thinking this, but why now keeps coming at me.”
“About your mother?”
She noticed how she had just thought of her by name, but he had granted her the title. It endeared him to her. “Yes.”
“Do you want my honest—and brutal—answer?”
“I guess so.”
“I’d say she had over a billion reasons.”
The way he said it, applying so much caution in his tone of voice, it didn’t elicit a defensive anger, but he appealed to her logic. “You think she would—”
He pulled her in to his chest and kissed her on the forehead. “I think you should protect your heart until you know for sure.”
“You’re right.” The words she spoke contradicted how she felt—it was too late for that.
Making Friends
SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOME, curled up on the couch with a nice glass of bourbon, but no, this other woman waltzed in and took over her turf. It wasn’t enough that she obviously got the job, but the McKinleys had her back to the house for an impromptu dinner. This stranger was excelling at worming her way into their hearts—and in turn their pocketbooks.
She had followed her out to the McKinley mansion and then back to her hotel room. It had been a long, uncomfortable day, stinking of rain water, her hair matted to her head. She had ditched the freakish nylons hours ago, taking her chance with contracting a cold over the stockings meant for midgets.
She guessed it was well after midnight, but she twisted her wrist to look at her watch. The parking lot lights cast a yellowish glow and provided enough illumination to read the dials. Two fifteen.
She’d been out here for hours. What was she waiting for?
The truth was she hated to kill—but there was so much at stake. Her full-time employment had fallen victim to the economy, and the likelihood of scoring another job was next to impossible. That didn’t even take into consideration that none of them paid anywhere near what she was worth.
She shook the creeping anxiety that hitched her shoulders up to the level of her ears and entered the lobby. There was one skill she possessed that proved more useful than most employers would compensate her for.
She sauntered over to the front desk, confident that she had this all under control. “I’m looking for my friend Leslie Summers’s room.”
The dark-skinned man behind the counter smiled at her. “I’m sorry, but—”
She nodded. “I understand that you usually can’t give that information out due to security reasons, but I’ve flown all the way here to surprise her.”
“I don’t know. I could lose my job.”
She leaned over the counter and tried to muster female appeal, despite her looks at the moment.
It must have worked because the clerk smiled. “Okay. I’ll do it for you…this time.”
What the man didn’t know was that her friend had been nameless to her until a few hours ago, when she had put her brains to use. The car was a rental and she had tracked it back to the issuing company. From there, she’d called and posed as a police officer, saying that it was involved in a hit and run. After a quick gasp from the other end, the minimum-wager parted with the valuable information of their renter’s identity.
The concierge smiled at her. “Just one more second.”
Her lips curved. “Sure.”
“Here we go. Room three sixteen.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Don’t mention it.”
One thing about the time of day, the elevators were empty and so were the hallways. Snores could be heard from some of the rooms as she made her way to room 316.
She knocked quietly at first, but when there was no response, she increased the intensity.
Leslie answered the door on the third knock, brown hair draped in front of her half-mast eyes. She had been pulled from a deep sleep.
She felt the smi
le creep across her face. This was perfect. Her victim was sleepy and dumb. She pulled the gun from a jacket pocket and ushered Leslie back inside. “Nice to meet you, Leslie.”
“Who are you? What—”
“What do I want? Is that what you were going to ask?” She butted the gun, directing her farther into the room until Leslie dropped onto the end of the bed. “You want to know what I want. Hmm.” She leveled the barrel. “I want you to die.”
Covert Op
SARA HAD LEFT FOR THE hotel, to surprise Leslie, and it left Sean alone with his suspicions. He knew what he’d told her last night, but he couldn’t sit back while she became more attached to a woman who may or may not be her mother. He needed certainty. That’s where they differed. Sara could fall into the rabbit hole with blinders on, he didn’t have that ability. He liked his facts, his concrete evidence.
He didn’t want to wait for the DNA. To him, it wasn’t even an option. Sara would be too attached by then, and her heart broken. After all, she was soaking up the claim as if it saved her soul. A portion of his ego took offense to this, but he kept squashing those thoughts. Her needing to know her birth mother didn’t discredit their relationship or in any way decrease its value. He knew that she loved him and sensed belonging with him. He wanted Leslie to be her mother, but skepticism was inherent for him, despite repeatedly trying to shake it.
She had agreed to keep an open mind, but he saw the hesitancy to let go. He witnessed the agony in her eyes when she contemplated being taken advantage of. But something wasn’t making sense for him, and he had to get to the bottom of it. The less he involved Sara the better. She was in a vulnerable emotional state as it was. Surely all this money should buy him knowledge. He just wasn’t one hundred percent certain where to turn.
If he went to Jeannie and Leon, Sara’s adoptive parents, Sara would never forgive him. He doubted that she had even mentioned Leslie’s arrival to them. It was something he would respectfully stay out of. So, if he wasn’t going to go to them for information about Sara’s birth mother, he had one other choice.
Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 05 - Family is Murder Page 2