My heart began to beat faster. On the phone, she hadn’t provided much detail about the accident, saying she’d prefer to speak in person. I was about to ask her more, but she went on, seeming to need to get it off her chest.
“Mia would come home from there, and it would take all week just to get her out of her funk. Pamela would be overly affectionate with Matthew in front of her, flaunting their relationship. And she began to exert more control at the house, even forcing Mia to drink her horrible green smoothies, which gave her stomachaches. I told her to pretend to drink them and then flush them down the toilet.”
I sighed sympathetically. “How awful. Your poor daughter.”
“I should have done more to keep her from my child, but I couldn’t prove anything to the courts, and Matthew wouldn’t relent. He kept telling me that I needed to give her a chance, that she cared about Mia. I still can’t believe that I was the one who brought that creature into our lives.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’d hired her to give Mia sailing lessons. At first Mia didn’t want to learn, but Pamela won her over. Mia loved her when she was her teacher, thought she was the coolest thing. Of course, Mia had no idea, and neither did I, that Pamela was only trying to get close to her dad. Once they were married, she couldn’t have cared less about my daughter.”
“She was a sailing instructor?”
Ava nodded. “Yes, at our country club. Just on the weekends. I think she did it to meet a rich husband. I guess she saw all the money that was being thrown around and decided she wanted to be elevated from the help to the helped. You know, after she married Matthew, he gave her the money to leave the practice where she worked and start her own counseling office. But she had no interest in helping anyone but herself. She’s a master manipulator.”
I nodded. “I’ve come to the same conclusion.”
Ava’s eyes were smoldering, and she spoke with bitter resentment. “That sailing accident was no accident. Matthew and Mia were expert swimmers, and they both knew how to sail . . . but somehow they both drowned, and she got out alive. She killed my daughter. And she got away with it.”
Her words made me tremble. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ava,” I said. “And I’m sorry to bring this up, but I’m worried that my children are in danger, too. She takes them out on her sailboat most weekends, and I’m terrified that something bad is going to happen to them.”
She leaned forward now, getting closer to me. “You’re right to be concerned. She’s evil, and she’s smart. She knew how to make sure that nothing could be pinned on her.”
“How did she get away with it?” I asked.
“Pamela’s story was that a squall came up suddenly. Something broke and the boom hit Mia, who went overboard. Pamela said she’d tried to get her to wear a life vest earlier, but she refused. Of course, no one can corroborate that.”
“What happened to Mia’s dad?”
“Matthew went right in after her, but they got caught in the sail and drowned. Pamela said she threw the life preservers out, did everything she could, but lost sight of them in the high seas.” Her eyes were now filled with rage. “I know she orchestrated the whole thing, sabotaged the boat.”
“Was there no way to prove that? Wasn’t there an investigation?” I asked.
Ava’s fists convulsed with suppressed rage. “Yes, but the police concluded that it was an accident.” She twisted her hands together. “Matthew had changed his will in her favor. There was a large trust fund for Mia, but since she died, too, the bulk of his estate—over twenty million dollars—went to Pamela. She stayed in the house for a while, but this is a tight-knit community, and I made sure everyone knew what she had done. No one wanted her at the country club, or anywhere else, for that matter. She finally sold the house and moved away.”
“And that’s when she became a new person,” I said. “She came east to find another target. But I don’t understand. Doesn’t she have all the money she needs now? Why does she need another rich husband?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not the money. Maybe it’s something else.”
I felt a terrible chill go up my spine, despite the warmth of the sun on my face.
“What was her maiden name? Maybe I can find something out about her past that would help me convince my ex-husband she’s dangerous.”
She shook her head. “It’s Rayfield, and she comes from Annapolis, Maryland. Just a small-town girl looking to strike it rich.”
I left Ava’s feeling shaken, and though it was nearly six o’clock by the time I returned to the hotel, I wasn’t hungry. The only thing I felt was a sick ball of fear in my stomach. Ava was a broken woman. Though I’d been in awe of her house and everything she had, all the money in the world couldn’t make up for losing a child. It made me more determined than ever to keep digging and stop Piper before she could do the same thing to Evie and Stelli—and Leo.
I had a terrible night, restless and hovering between wakefulness and a half sleep. I know I dreamed awful dreams, but when I awoke in the morning, they were all hazy. As I showered and dressed, an image would come to me and then fade just as quickly. Still lacking an appetite, I sat at the small desk in my room and dialed the number for the California Department of Health and Vital Records I’d found on their website. I knew it was a long shot, but I thought that maybe if I got a copy of Pamela and Matthew Dunn’s marriage license, it might reveal something more about her background.
I was prepared to reroute my trip home, fly to Sacramento, and go to their offices, but when I spoke to a clerk in the office, I was told the only way to obtain records was by mail. Disappointed, I downloaded the necessary request form and asked the hotel’s business office to print it for me. I got down a cup of bitter coffee and half an English muffin as I filled out the form, put it and a check into an envelope, and asked the front desk to mail it for me. I hoped my efforts would produce some useful information, but having to wait for almost a month would be agony. What if that turned out to be too long? It occurred to me then that Ava might have a copy of Matthew and Pamela’s marriage certificate. I could have kicked myself for not asking her yesterday and punched her number into my phone.
After three rings she picked up. “Hello?”
“Ava, it’s Joanna. Do you have a copy of Matthew’s marriage certificate? I’ve requested a copy from the state, but it could take weeks.”
“I don’t have one on hand, but let me see what I can do. I might be able to pull some strings and have it sent to you sooner.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry to bring up things that are so painful for you, Ava. I—”
“No, not at all,” she interrupted before I could continue. “I’ll do anything I can to help you expose her. I want her to pay for what she’s done. The justice system has failed me, but I won’t rest until she suffers for what she did.”
“And I will do my best to make sure that happens. Thank you so much for seeing me. I’ll stay in touch and let you know anything I discover. Thank you again.”
I quickly checked out and drove to the airport. I couldn’t wait to get home and to spend some time looking into Pamela Rayfield.
27
Piper
With the children back in school and settling into the routine of their days and early bedtimes, Piper was spending more time at the center again, and she cherished her only opportunity to recharge. Their new setup was taking getting used to on all of their parts, she admitted to herself. The first time she’d made tofu stew with quinoa for dinner, Stelli refused to eat it. If it had been up to her, he would have gone to bed hungry, but Leo thought differently.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to eat it, buddy. You’ll try it another time,” Leo had said, getting up to make Stelli a sandwich.
Stelli had picked up his bowl of stew, taken it to the trash can, and dumped it out, giving her a victorious look.
Piper pressed her lips together, furiously tapping her foot under the table. “Leo, that’s
not right. Stelli needs to know that it’s wrong to waste food.”
Leo looked over at his son, who stood in front of the trash can with his arms folded across his chest. “Piper’s right, Stel. There are lots of children who don’t have enough to eat. We’re really lucky that we do. We shouldn’t waste it.”
“It tasted awful,” Stelli said.
She could tell that Leo was trying not to laugh. “It was just different. That’s all. Look”—he’d pointed to Evie—“Evie’s eaten all of hers.”
“I liked it,” she said. “I think Stelli’s being a brat.”
Piper had raised her eyebrows at Leo as if to say, See? I told you he’s acting out. Even his sister sees it.
She had to give Leo credit. From then on, he stayed firmly on her side when Stelli was being picky about food. At least try it, he would say to him, and Piper was satisfied that it was a good compromise. One Friday night, she had something else she wanted to introduce, so she made spaghetti for dinner, one of Stelli’s favorites.
When she brought it to the table, his eyes grew wide and so did his smile. “Oh, goody. Spaghetti!”
“Garlic bread, too,” Piper said, setting the bread plate on the table. It had been hard for her to serve bread with pasta, but she knew both Leo and Stelli would love it, and she wanted everyone in a good mood.
“So,” she said, after they’d been eating awhile, “I thought we’d play a little game while we’re at the table, before we watch a movie.”
They stopped eating for a moment and looked at her. “What kind of game?” Evie asked, putting her fork down.
“I want all of you to think of something you were thankful for today. It can be something that happened or someone you know or even just a thing.”
Evie raised her hand.
“Yes, Evie?” Piper said, smiling at the girl’s manners.
“I’m thankful that my friend Jennifer is back in school and not sick anymore.”
“That’s really lovely, Evie. What about you?” Piper looked at Leo, wanting to give Stelli more time to ponder.
“Easy. I’m thankful for you little rascals,” he said, ruffling Stelli’s hair. “Your turn, Stel.”
Stelli tapped his fork against the plate and looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds. “I’m thankful for my Lego Explorer.”
“Okay, good. My turn. I’m grateful for my new family.” Her smile froze when she saw that Stelli had rolled his eyes. Ignoring him, she continued. “Now, this is a little harder. I want you to sit and be very quiet. It will help if you close your eyes.” Piper let her words sink in and closed her own eyes. “Everyone’s eyes closed?”
There was a murmur of yeses around the table. “Okay. Now pay attention to what you’re feeling right now. And remember, there are no right or wrong feelings. Just whatever you’re feeling right this moment.”
She heard Leo clear his throat, but otherwise, there was only silence. After a minute, Piper opened her eyes. “Okay, now open your eyes and let’s talk about what we felt.”
“Piper—” Leo said, but he was interrupted by Evie.
“I felt really sad. Today when Jennifer came back to school, some of the kids were really mean to her and they made fun of her ’cause the medicine made all her hair fall out. I wanted to yell at them and tell them to leave her alone, but I didn’t say anything. I was scared.”
Leo and Piper exchanged looks. She’d had no idea that Evie’s friend was seriously ill.
“Come here and sit on my lap, pumpkin,” Leo said to his daughter.
She rose from the table and went to sit on his knee, and he put his arm around her. “Sometimes it’s very hard to stand up to kids who are being mean and nasty. If that happens again, I want you to talk to your teacher. It’s not your job to stop them. It’s hers. Your job is to be Jennifer’s friend.”
Piper smiled and nodded her head at him. “What about you, Stelli? How were you feeling?”
“This is stupid.”
“Stelli, tell Piper you’re sorry.”
Stelli threw his fork across the table and flipped his plate over, spilling spaghetti all over the place mat. “Why do I always have to tell her I’m sorry? Why is she such a big baby?” He jumped up from his chair.
“That’s enough, young man.” Leo gently pushed Evie from his lap, rose to his feet, and stood over Stelli. “You will not be disrespectful.” Taking the boy’s hand, Leo led Stelli from the room.
Piper watched this little drama, exasperated, and wondered how Leo was going to handle it. “Would you help me clean up, Evie? Then we can have our pudding while we watch the movie.”
“Okay,” Evie said, and began to clear the dishes.
They were halfway through Wonder Woman when Leo finally came downstairs alone and joined them in the family room. Piper was dying to know what had transpired, but she didn’t want to disappoint Evie by interrupting the film. Finally, after Leo had tucked Evie into bed and returned, she asked him.
Leo shook his head. “He ranted for a while. He was so angry. I’ve never seen him so angry. I finally settled him down, and we talked about old times.” He pulled Piper closer to him on the sofa. “This has been a much harder adjustment for him than for Evie. Stelli was so close to his mother. Not that Evie wasn’t, but it was different with Stelli.” He sighed. “Anyway, he was pretty exhausted after all the histrionics. I lay down with him, and we both fell asleep for a bit. Sorry it took me so long to come back.”
“You did the right thing. He needs to talk about it.” She paused, letting that sink in. “In fact, I’ve been thinking a lot about ways we might help him. There are natural remedies, you know, things that are completely safe and effective. And lots of alternative therapies that could work, too. Why don’t you let me try some of these with him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want him taking any kind of psychotropic drugs.”
“No, of course not. I would never suggest that. The things I’m talking about are completely natural and benign. But they might ease his anxiety and anger.”
“You think so?”
Piper nodded. “I do.”
“I don’t want him to feel like there’s anything wrong with him,” Leo added.
“I understand. I can just add a little something to his smoothies. He’ll never know.”
“All right. Let’s talk more about it tomorrow.”
She snuggled closer to him, satisfied. She’d cleared the way. Now it was time to get to work.
28
Joanna
My restless night really hit me after takeoff, and I slept for almost the entire five-and-a-half-hour flight, which is saying a lot when you’re flying coach. It was midnight when we landed at JFK, and I was still an hour from home. As I took the shuttle to the parking garage to retrieve my car, I felt a second wind and couldn’t wait to get home, power up my computer, and resume the search.
The house was dark when I pulled up, as were the others on the street. The last thing I wanted to do was wake my mother, so I shut the car door quietly and tiptoed to the front door, pushing it gently shut, then turned on a lamp. The drabness of the small living room overwhelmed me after being in Ava’s house. Hers had been so full of light and color, and now I was back in this tiny space that seemed even more dark and depressing than before.
But it was time to brush aside my feelings of resentment or self-pity and get to work. After brewing a pot of coffee, I sat down at the kitchen table and typed “Pamela Rayfield” into Google. A bunch of Facebook profiles came up first, but none of them were hers, of course. I scrolled down farther, but still nothing. Then I had an idea. Ava said that Piper had been a sailing instructor. I typed “Pamela Rayfield sailing.” Voilà! An article in the Capital Gazette came up: “AYC High School Senior Wins Another Major Title.” The article chronicled the third award Pamela had won that year at the Annapolis Yacht Club. A photo of her on the sailboat showed a younger, dark-haired Piper with a smile as wide as the boat. How was it that someone so accomplished at sail
ing had been unable to keep her second husband and her stepdaughter safe at sea? There were no other hits that seemed to be about her, so I tried “Pam Rayfield” and the first thing that came up was an obituary.
Pam Rayfield, 93, died peacefully in her home. She is survived by one sister, Margo Spencer, and a daughter, Sheila Sherman.
That certainly wasn’t her. I thought about poor Sheila. Had she ever married? Had she spent her entire life taking care of her mother, never having a life of her own? She was probably in her seventies by now, finally free but too old to start her own family. I looked through the rest of the page to see if there was anything else of interest. Some Facebook profiles of other Pam Rayfields, but they resulted in nothing. On a whim I logged in to my Facebook account and typed “Pamela Dunn” into the search bar. Nothing. “Pamela Rayfield Dunn.” Others came up, but none were her. Finally, I tried “Pamela R. Dunn.” It was her! I clicked on the page and a picture of Piper filled the screen. There were only two posts. One was a picture of the beach and under it she’d written California is as beautiful as they say. The other post was of her on a sailboat with Matthew Dunn. The name of the boat was The Pamela. He must have bought it for her. How ironic that it’s what killed him. The most recent posts were from four years ago—it seemed she hadn’t been active on Facebook since. I looked through to see her friends. There were only a handful.
I knew sleep would be impossible after all the coffee and now this discovery, so I pulled up the children’s birthday video on my phone. They were born on the same day—March 14—but two years apart. Stelli’s and Evie’s smiling faces filled the screen as I sat watching the video I’d filmed just a few months ago. Stelli sat on the floor, his smile huge, revealing the adorable gap where his two bottom front baby teeth were missing. He was opening the package and squealed with excitement.
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