Scent of Roses ; Season of Strangers

by Kat Martin

Maria’s dark eyes came to rest on Elizabeth’s face. “Do you think…now that you have found her…do you think she will be at peace?”

  Elizabeth reached for Maria’s hand, gripped it firmly. “Yes, I do. Once she goes home where she belongs, I think she’ll find her way to heaven.”

  “Sí, I think so, too. I hope so very much.”

  “So do I,” Elizabeth said softly. Glancing away, she swallowed past the painful lump in her throat.

  * * *

  On Thursday morning, as evidence was collected and the extended search got underway, Zach went to the hearing that had been set to determine whether his father would get the surgery he so desperately needed. He had hired a local attorney, a man named Luis Montez he highly respected, but he would also be there himself.

  “Why don’t I go with you?” Elizabeth suggested. “Maybe I could testify on your father’s behalf.”

  Zach shook his head. “Thanks for offering, but you only met him a couple of times and I don’t think it would do any good. You’ve got work to do at your office, and besides, this is my problem, mine and my dad’s.”

  But Zach’s problems had become her problems, too. If only she could make him understand that. “Are you taking him with you to the hearing?”

  “The judge requested he be there. I have a hunch Dr. Marvin suggested it. If we’re lucky, Judge Alexander will see the man my father is today and be reminded of the man he was before—the man he could be again.”

  “Good luck, Zach. I really hope this works.”

  Zach leaned down and very softly kissed her. “Thanks, love. I hope so, too.”

  Elizabeth went to work, but it was difficult to concentrate. Instead, she anxiously waited for the phone to ring, for the call that would tell her the outcome of the hearing. But each time a call came in, it was a client or some other work-related problem.

  By eleven o’clock, when she still had received no word, she grabbed her purse off the credenza behind her desk and headed for her car, figuring the proceedings would be stopped for lunch and she would have a chance to talk to Zach when he came out of the courtroom.

  If things didn’t go the way he so desperately hoped they would, she wanted to be there for him. She headed for the door at a run.

  “Where are you going?” Terry came up from her chair behind the receptionist’s desk.

  “Mason. I’ll be back after lunch.”

  “Don’t forget, you’ve got a new client in at two, Angel Sanduski, the woman with the five kids the court took away from her.”

  “I remember. I’ll be back by then.”

  She was gone before Terry could say more, racing for her Acura. It was a thirty-mile drive to the county courthouse in Mason and she would have to find a place to park.

  The car was roasting inside, even with all four windows cracked and a silver reflective sun shield across the front window. It was still hot in San Pico the first part of September, with a predicted high today of ninety-eight degrees, and it took a while for the air conditioner to cool down the interior.

  Once she reached Mason, she spotted a parking place near the entrance to the courthouse—thank you, God—pulled in and turned off the engine. The courthouse was modern in design, flat-topped and square, built after an earthquake damaged a large portion of town in the nineteen fifties.

  Elizabeth pushed through the glass front doors, asked the information desk the location of the hearing being conducted by Judge Alexander, and headed up the stairs to a room on the second floor. Hurrying past several people walking along the corridor in front of her, she finally found the room and sat down on a long wooden bench beside the door.

  At ten till noon, the doors swung open and a man walked out, tall and blond, attractive except for the ruddy tint of anger in his face. She recognized Carson in an instant, followed by a guy in a three-piece suit carrying an expensive belted leather briefcase, apparently Carson’s attorney. The man caught up with him; Carson called him an incompetent fool, and the two men disappeared down the stairs.

  Elizabeth smiled. Obviously things weren’t going the way Carson had expected. Which could only be good news for Zach.

  Finally Zach walked out of the courtroom, pushing his father in a wheelchair in front of him. She saw the brilliant smile on his face and there was no doubt the proceedings were going his way.

  “Zach!” She waved at him and he started toward her, leaving his father with the Hispanic man in the dark suit, who she guessed was his lawyer, Luis Montez.

  “Hey!” He caught her against him, gave her a welcoming hug. “What are you doing here? You didn’t have to drive over.”

  “I wanted to be here…in case things didn’t work out.”

  “Yeah, well, you could have saved yourself a trip.” He grinned. “The judge granted our petition. He appointed an attorney here in Mason, a guy named Maurice Whitman, to act as conservator in matters of my father’s health. Judge Alexander instructed him to make the arrangements for the surgery.”

  “Oh, Zach that’s wonderful!”

  He looked down at her and something moved across his features. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate it, Liz.” He introduced her to Montez, who wheeled Fletcher Harcourt up beside them.

  “Dad, do you remember Ms. Conners? You met her out at Willow Glen.”

  The older man stared at her and frowned. “You come down here to…bail him out? Won’t do any good. Damned kid’s always…in trouble. I’m sick and tired of sitting in courtrooms. Time he grew up…learned to behave himself. Maybe spending a few years in jail will do him some good.”

  Zach flushed, a hint of red creeping under the high bones in his cheeks. “She didn’t have to bail me, Dad. Not this time. You and I are here to get some business matters settled, remember?”

  Fletcher Harcourt just looked confused. It was then that Dr. Marvin walked up, hair neatly combed, expression warm and smiling. It was obvious he was happy with the outcome of the hearing.

  “Hello, Elizabeth.”

  “It’s nice to see you, Dr. Marvin.”

  “I gather you’ve heard the news.”

  “Yes, I have. Congratulations.”

  He turned his attention to Zach. “As I told Judge Alexander, I think we should proceed as quickly as possible with this. Dr. Steiner has tentatively scheduled the surgery for Monday morning. That will give you time to get your father checked into the hospital.”

  “They’re going to do the surgery at the UCLA Medical Center,” Zach told her. “It’s one of the best facilities in the country. It’s also fairly close to my apartment so I can be close by while Dad’s recovering.”

  “That’s great.” And it was, but Elizabeth couldn’t help thinking how much she was going to miss Zach when he went back home. Though he had seemed glad to see her, she wasn’t really sure. There was a growing reserve in his manner that didn’t bode well. She felt a pang in her chest. She wondered if this was the beginning of the end and found herself praying it wasn’t.

  They left the courthouse and Zach drove his father back to Willow Glen while Elizabeth returned to her office. The afternoon was slipping past. She had just finished her initial interview with Angel Sanduski, the woman whose alcohol and drug abuse had cost her the custody of her five young children, when Terry buzzed her on the intercom.

  “Sheriff Morgan is here to see you,” she said, but Elizabeth had only risen out of her chair when the door swung open and the tall, blond sheriff walked in.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  She noticed his grim expression and her eyes went wide. “Oh, my God—you didn’t find the body of another child?”

  “No, we didn’t. We found the body of a man—and the corpse isn’t all that old.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The questions began anew. It was a totally different ball game no
w, since the victim had apparently died sometime within the past five years. The sheriff questioned Elizabeth, Miguel, Sam, Ben and the boys. Zach came under close scrutiny because of his criminal record and the fact that his family owned the property. Even Carson was questioned.

  “I wish I could have seen the look on my brother’s face,” Zach said. “One body wasn’t bad enough—now they’ve got two. This ought to be great for his aspiring political ambitions.”

  “I guess that’s what he was worried about.”

  “I guess. Makes you wonder though.”

  “About what?”

  “If he somehow knew we’d find something down there. If that was the reason he was so hell-bent on keeping us away.”

  Elizabeth stared out the window of her apartment. “I can’t believe any of this.”

  “Neither can I,” Zach said.

  Though it would take weeks for a DNA match, by Friday afternoon, they knew the child they had found was Carrie Ann Whitt. With the help of Carrie Ann’s mother, the sheriff had discovered the family dentist was still in practice and they had been able to locate the little girl’s dental records.

  Paula Whitt Simmons had been notified of the results. The child they had found was indeed Paula’s daughter.

  As soon as they received the news, Zach phoned to express his sympathy and so did Elizabeth.

  “I’m really sorry, Paula,” she said. “I can’t even imagine how you must feel.”

  There was aching weariness and bone-deep grief in the woman’s voice. “At least I know what happened to her. As terrible as it is, it’s over. Once Carrie Ann is back home, once she’s buried where she belongs, she’ll be at peace.”

  “That’s what Zach said. How about you, Paula? Will you be able to put this behind you?”

  “I’ll rest easier, that’s for sure. I tried not to let my husband or my children know, but there was never a day went by I didn’t think of her, wonder where she was—pray that she was okay. Now she’ll be at rest and I’ll always know where to find her.”

  Elizabeth spoke past the tightness in her throat. “Take care of yourself, Paula.”

  “Thank you for everything.”

  It was over. Carrie Ann had been found and soon would be laid to rest. Elizabeth believed that the mystery they had solved would end the problems in the house. But now there was another mystery to solve.

  It appeared that forty years later there had been a second murder. She wondered who the man was that had been found beneath the house.

  * * *

  The weekend came and went. It was early Sunday morning. Zach’s suitcase was already packed and sitting beside the door. All weekend he had been restless and edgy, anxious to pick up his father and get on the road to L.A. He was growing more and more distant, backing away from her as he had before. Last night they hadn’t even made love.

  “Well, I guess I’d better get going,” Zach said, glancing toward the door like a rabbit about to bolt.

  “I guess you had.”

  He reached down and plucked his car keys off the coffee table.

  “Listen, Zach, I’d really like to be there tomorrow. It’s not that far a drive and I don’t want you to have to go through this alone.”

  He tossed the keys up and down, rattling them in his hand. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you as soon as my father gets out of surgery.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go?”

  “Like I said, I’ll be fine.”

  “You won’t forget to call?”

  He walked over to where she stood, bent his head and absently brushed her lips with a kiss. “I’ll call. I promise.”

  She hated that he was so eager to leave—and so opposed to her coming down to wait with him during the surgery. It was obvious he didn’t want her there and she knew why.

  He’s running, she thought. He can’t handle the closeness. Her heart squeezed as he picked up his overnight bag and opened the door.

  “I guess I’ll see you around,” she said far too brightly.

  Zach merely nodded. “Like I said, I’ll call you as soon as he’s out of surgery.”

  She tried to smile but failed. Her eyes were burning. Damn, she didn’t want him to see her cry. He opened the door, but didn’t walk out, just stood there for several long seconds staring out toward the street. Then his jaw subtly firmed. He walked out and closed the door.

  Elizabeth stood there in the silence, staring at the place he had been. Her heart was hurting. A painful knot burned in her chest. She loved him so much. She had known it was a mistake to get involved with him, but like the moth to the flame, she hadn’t been able to resist.

  She took a shuddering breath and turned away from the door, ignored the sound of his Jeep firing up, the whine of the engine growing more and more distant as he drove away. It made her ache to think of losing him, losing the special something she had never felt for any other man.

  But one thing she had learned—if Zach didn’t want her, she didn’t want him. She didn’t want a man who couldn’t totally commit, didn’t want someone she couldn’t trust to be there when she needed him. She had married a man like that. She was better off by herself.

  Still, she wished she could be there tomorrow. There was a chance something might happen during the surgery, and Zach would be devastated if it did. But if Zach didn’t want her there, she wasn’t about to go where she wasn’t wanted. He was pulling away. She told herself it was better it happened now than later.

  But she couldn’t quite make herself believe it.

  * * *

  With his father carefully strapped into the passenger seat, the wheelchair loaded in the back, Zach drove straight to the UCLA Medical Center in Westwood. Before Fletcher Harcourt could be admitted, there were forms to fill out, then a number of tests to be completed before the surgery was performed.

  Zach had spoken to Sheriff Morgan on Saturday about the operation scheduled for Monday morning, and Morgan had agreed to let Zach return to L.A.

  “I’ll either be at the hospital, my office or my apartment,” Zach promised. “And I always carry my cell phone.”

  “Just make sure you’re reachable,” Sheriff Morgan said.

  Zach didn’t blame him for keeping close tabs. There were two bodies under the Santiago house—buried over thirty years apart. The fact itself was amazing. That one was a child, the other a large adult male, made the happenstance even stranger. But like Carrie Ann, according to the coroner, the death of the second victim had definitely been a result of foul play.

  “There was a bullet hole in the skull,” Morgan told him. “There was also a depression in the skull that looks like it came from a blunt instrument.”

  Zach mulled that over. “So you think maybe someone hit this guy over the head, then finished him off with a bullet?”

  “At this point, it’s still anyone’s guess, but that would be my take.”

  “Any chance you can narrow the date of death down a little?”

  Morgan’s silver-blond eyebrows pulled down in suspicion. “Why is that important?”

  “The current house wasn’t built until four years ago. If I remember right, it was under construction for about eight months. The old house was completely gone by then. The area inside the foundation would have been easy to access and no one would have thought much about it if the ground in the construction site was disturbed. Might have been a good place to hide a body.”

  “Interesting thought. I’ll look into it. When will you be back in San Pico?”

  The question made him uneasy. Once his father was stable enough to be moved, he would be transported home by ambulance, but after he got there, Zach would want to be close by for a while. On the other hand, his return to L.A. gave him the perfect opportunity to ease into his break with Elizabeth.

 
His chest tightened at the thought. It’s gotta happen sooner or later, he told himself. It wasn’t fair to either one of them to go on this way, as if their relationship might actually turn into something more, might even end up in marriage. He wasn’t the type to make that kind of commitment. He’d only been fooling himself. It was time to give her up and get his life back on track.

  He recited the litany all the way back to L.A., determined to convince himself, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach.

  * * *

  It was Sunday afternoon. Zach was gone, on his way back to Los Angeles, taking his father with him, and the annual San Pico Rose Festival was in progress.

  Though Elizabeth had always looked forward to the yearly event, this year she didn’t want to go. Though no one had said as much, she had an odd suspicion that little Carrie Ann Whitt had been murdered during the Rose Festival. It was the only explanation Elizabeth could come up with for the overwhelming rose scent that accompanied the young girl’s apparition whenever she appeared.

  Though they would probably never know, and even if it weren’t true, somehow she simply couldn’t bear to go this year. Instead, she spent her day off catching up on paperwork, trying not to think of Zach.

  Zach didn’t call that night. She didn’t think he would.

  On Monday she went to the office and tried not to think about the surgery. But she was worried about Fletcher Harcourt, worried the operation might not succeed, worried about what would happen to Zach if the surgery failed—or worse. Zach might be able to turn his emotions off and on, but Elizabeth wasn’t that way.

  Seated behind her desk, she tensed when Terry finally buzzed to announce Zach’s call, took a deep breath, and picked up the phone.

  “Liz? It’s Zach.”

  “I’ve been worried. How’s it going?”

  “Dad’s out of surgery. He’s in I.C.U. and so far he’s doing great.” She could hear the relief in his voice. Though he’d never said so, she knew he was terrified that his father would die and he would be to blame.

  “That’s great news, Zach.”

  “Doctor Steiner says he isn’t out of the woods yet, but the surgery went exactly as planned. They won’t know for several weeks how effective it was, but they’re hopeful that little by little his motor functions and memory will start to return.”