Under the Dog Star: A Rachel Goddard Mystery #4 (Rachel Goddard Mysteries)
Page 30
“It was Leo’s idea to kill him, not mine,” Ethan said, “I swear it was.”
“But you thought it was a good idea,” Tom said.
Ethan’s eyes, hot with shame, met Tom’s briefly. “He said he’d do it, but he wanted money. He wanted ten thousand up front, and more after it was over. I didn’t know he was going to use a dog. I didn’t have any idea. Once it was done, he had this hold over me; he was in charge. His girlfriend was already working in the house, and she was telling him every move I made. Then he sent his friends to the house with guns, and I had to act like I wanted them there guarding the place. They were there to scare me. To remind me I had to go along with the plan.”
“So Leo wanted your father out of the way because he blamed your father for his sister Jewel’s death, and also because he was afraid of being turned in for drug dealing.”
Ethan nodded. “But that wasn’t all. After he killed my dad, he wanted to get rid of my mother too. He figured if they were both out of the way, I’d get control of all the money and they could bleed me dry.”
“Has Rayanne been drugging your mother? I asked for a tox screen before she had dialysis. When the results come back, are they going to show something in her blood that shouldn’t be there?”
“Yes. I don’t know exactly what it was, but she was giving Mom a tranquilizer or something, and I couldn’t stop her. I tried, I swear I did.”
“Who slashed Soo Jin’s tires? Did Leo make you do that?”
“No! That was Rayanne too. She told me she did it. Soo was asking a lot of questions. She’s smart, smarter than I’ll ever be, and she was figuring it all out. Rayanne was scared of her. If I hadn’t gone out to see Leo that night, Soo wouldn’t have gone out either, and the accident wouldn’t have happened. But Rayanne and Leo would’ve found another way to kill her.” He covered his face with his hands.
“Ethan,” Tom said, “do you admit that you paid Leo Riggs to kill your father?”
“Yes,” Ethan said, his voice hardly more than a whisper behind his hands.
“Say it. Clearly.”
He dropped his hands. “I paid Leo Riggs to kill my father.”
Chapter Forty-two
One week later
Rachel watched Marcy’s reflection in the mirror as the girl filled the dresser drawers with her underwear and sweaters. She was transferring everything she owned, all the clothes and books and toys she’d accumulated as a member of the Hall family, into a small bedroom at her grandparents’ house, but her expressionless face offered no clue to her feelings about this monumental change in her life.
A burst of laughter came from the kitchen down the hall, and Marcy paused as if listening. Rachel heard David’s voice, then Raymond’s. Marcy had chosen not to join the rest of the family in a snack, and Rachel had followed her to the bedroom to help her unpack and keep her from being alone.
“Let’s sit down and talk for a minute,” Rachel said. She stepped around the big box they’d been emptying and sat on the bed.
Obediently, Marcy left a dresser drawer standing open and came to sit beside Rachel.
“Your grandparents put a lot of time into fixing up this room for you,” Rachel said. “Your grandmother made the curtains herself.”
“They’re pretty. It’s a nice room.” But Marcy wasn’t looking at the blue walls and curtains, the new throw rug and bedspread. She sat with her head down, her hands clasped in her lap.
“Do you understand everything that’s happening?” Rachel asked. “Did the judge explain it clearly enough?”
“He said David and I are going to live here until our real dad gets custody. He said that Mother and Daddy—I mean—”
“I know who you mean, sweetie.”
“He said they didn’t do the adoption the way the law says they’re supposed to.”
“They didn’t have your real dad’s permission to take you.”
Marcy was silent a moment, her body perfectly still. Rachel had never seen a child who could hold herself as still as Marcy did, like a rabbit afraid of catching a predator’s eye. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft Rachel had to ask her to repeat what she’d said.
“Is Mother going to die?”
In that quiet question Rachel heard a sadness and longing that broke her heart. Vicky Hall, whatever her flaws, was the only mother Marcy remembered, and now she’d vanished from the girl’s life. “Mrs. Hall is very sick,” Rachel said. “Rayanne made her condition worse by giving her sedatives that her body couldn’t handle. She’s better now, but I won’t lie to you, I don’t think we can expect her to live much longer.”
Marcy nodded as if accepting this. “But Soo Jin’s okay?”
“She’s recovering. She’ll look after Beth.”
“They don’t like each other.”
“They’ll have to learn to get along,” Rachel said. “They’ll be the only ones left to inherit the hospital. They might end up as business partners, although I’ll admit that’s hard to imagine.”
Rachel saw a flicker of amusement on Marcy’s face and felt like whooping in triumph. The numbness was wearing off. Maybe Marcy was ready to start connecting with the world around her.
“Don’t worry about anybody else,” Rachel said. “You need to concentrate on settling in and getting to know your grandparents and your father. I hope you realize how happy they are to have you and David here.”
“They seem nice.”
“They’re good people, Marcy. I know you don’t remember them, but they remember you, and they never stopped loving you.”
“David’s happy now.”
“And I hope you will be too.”
After another silence, Marcy asked, “Who am I now? Is my last name Porter? I’m not Marcy Hall anymore, am I?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Rachel placed an arm around Marcy’s shoulders and pulled her close. “The name might change, but you’re the same person you always were. So many people care about you and want you to be happy. I know it’s a big adjustment—it’s a huge adjustment—but please give your grandparents and father a chance to show you how much they love you.”
This had seemed the best outcome to Rachel, and only now was she beginning to see how difficult it would be for Marcy. Her uncle and a man she considered a brother had teamed up to kill the man she thought of as a father, her older sister had almost died, her uncle had locked her and her brother in a cage in a dark shed. She had gone from a white family to a black one, from a cold but comfortingly familiar home to one so different it might as well sit on another planet. The one thing Rachel didn’t pity Marcy for was losing the luxuries of the Hall household. Compared to a cold, loveless mansion with all the creature comforts, a humble but loving home was the hands-down winner.
A tap sounded on the open door. “You about ready to go?” Tom asked.
Marcy pulled away from Rachel’s embrace as if she’d been caught doing something forbidden. How can I leave her here? Rachel thought. She wanted to scoop Marcy up and take her home and be a mother to her.
Crazy thoughts. Crazy feelings. She had to surrender Marcy to her family and allow them to help her heal emotionally.
Rachel hugged the girl again, felt Marcy relax just enough to hug her back. “It’s going to be all right,” Rachel whispered. “It really is. And you can call me anytime you want to talk. I’ll be back to see you again. Lots of times.”
She forced herself to let go of Marcy and walk out of the room.
Abel and Lucinda Porter, their son Raymond, and their grandson David sat around a big table in the old-fashioned kitchen. A wonderful sweet aroma filled the room. Mrs. Porter had a cake in the oven, and all the ingredients for chocolate icing sat ready on a counter.
David and his father had been laughing, Rachel realized with a jolt. She wouldn’t have thought David was capable of it. He hardly looked like the same boy anymore, with a not-quite-believing-it elation replacing his habitual sullenness. He had what he wanted. He had his father back.
&nbs
p; “Is Marcy all right?” Mrs. Porter asked Rachel. “Should I go look in on her?”
“She’s putting her things away. I think she just needs a little time to herself.”
“Well, then, I’ll let her be until dinnertime. I’m cooking up a treat for her. David tells me she can’t resist chocolate cake.”
“If we don’t get out of here,” Tom said, “you’re going to have me lining up for a piece.”
“I can make a chocolate cake,” Rachel said. “Let’s go home and I’ll prove it.”
“Dr. Goddard, before you leave—” Raymond stood and held out a hand to Rachel. “I want to thank you for going out to Leo’s place to find my children.”
She smiled and shook his hand. “I’m glad it’s working out for all of you.”
After a round of goodbyes and promises to get together again soon, Tom and Rachel took their leave of the reunited Porter family. As they walked out into the chilly autumn afternoon, Tom put an arm around Rachel. “I know this is hard,” he said, “but she’ll be all right. You believe that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe that. And sooner or later I’ll pull myself together and start acting like I believe it.”
They climbed into Tom’s pickup truck, which they’d used to cart Marcy and David’s belongings from the Hall house. A social worker had brought the children from the temporary foster home to the farm.
Rachel buckled her seat belt. “Did you tell the Porters about the trust fund?”
“No.” Tom turned the key in the ignition. “They’ll find out from Vicky Hall’s lawyer. It won’t affect the kids’ lives now, anyway. It’s for their college educations.”
“It’s the least Mrs. Hall can do for them, after the way she’s treated them.”
“Let’s be grateful she’s giving them up without a fight.” Tom drove down the driveway toward the road. “Soo Jin says Vicky’s tying up loose ends before she dies.”
Rachel expelled a sour laugh. “Loose ends? Is that how she sees two kids she stole from their family?”
“It’s over, Rachel.” Tom braked at the end of the driveway and reached over to brush her cheek with his palm. “You have to step back now and let it go.”
“I know. I’m trying, I really am.” She drew a deep, calming breath, let it out. Marcy’s plight had struck too close to home for Rachel and dredged up all the emotional turmoil of her own childhood. But she refused to wallow in it, and she had no reason to doubt that Marcy was in good hands.
Tom turned onto the road and they set off toward home. “It all worked out for the best. Leo’s gone. He can’t hurt the kids anymore. Ethan and Rayanne and Pete are in jail. The dogs are safe—”
“Thank you for not charging Jim Sullivan for working with Leo. He’s a good farm vet, and he doesn’t deserve to lose his career.”
“Leo forced him into it,” Tom said. “I don’t want to ruin the man’s life.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes. Rachel watched the hills and fields they passed and couldn’t help wondering how many more abandoned dogs would have to be rescued from starvation as winter took hold in the mountains.
“Rachel,” Tom said, “will you do something for me?”
“Of course.” She turned to him. “What is it?”
Tom reached for her hand. “Will you stop making a face every time you look at my mother’s wallpaper and just pick out what you want to replace it, so we can get started?”
Rachel almost laughed, but she stifled the impulse when she realized Tom wasn’t laughing. He glanced at her with eyes as solemn as the questions he hadn’t spoken aloud. Can you think of my house as ours, as your home? Will you promise to stay with me?
For a moment the old panic gripped her, sucked the air from her lungs. She was a pretender, she wasn’t who she said she was. She could never forget that she had another life, a shadow life, suspended in time but always waiting to reclaim her. Would she ever stop feeling this loneliness, an ache so deep and familiar that she couldn’t imagine its absence? Her life before she met Tom had been so bizarre he couldn’t possibly comprehend what she’d been through, however much of the story she shared with him. He seemed to realize that. He hadn’t pushed her to tell him every detail. She had almost begun to believe he might love her even though there were dark places in her heart and mind he could never enter.
“Rachel?” he said softly, his hand gripping hers but his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “What do you think?”
“Blue,” she said. “Blue paint for the bedroom. I’m not sure yet about the rest. But no more flowered wallpaper. Please.”
Tom smiled, a slow sweet smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and lit up his face. “Let’s meet for lunch at the Mountaineer tomorrow. We can stop by the hardware store afterward and pick up some paint samples.”
“It’s a date.” How easy it was to make this huge commitment, she thought, even when she was scared to death she was going to do everything wrong.
More from this Author
For other books, upcoming author events, or more information please go to:
www.poisonedpenpress.com/Sandra-Parshall
Contact Us
To receive a free catalog of Poisoned Pen Press titles,
please contact us in one of the following ways:
Phone: 1-800-421-3976
Facsimile: 1-480-949-1707
Email: info@poisonedpenpress.com
Website: www.poisonedpenpress.com
Poisoned Pen Press
6962 E. First Ave. Ste 103
Scottsdale, AZ 85251