A Family of Strangers

by Emilie Richards

  “Can I sleep in your bed?”

  “Yeah, Aunt Ryan. You didn’t have other plans for your bed, did you?” Teo asked, nudging me again.

  Considering how unlikely it had been that Holly would fall asleep quickly, sadly I did not.

  “Go ahead,” I told her. “But when you wake up tomorrow morning, don’t be surprised to find you’re back in your own.”

  “Will you tuck me in? Can I sleep with your lamp on?” I got up and handled the questions one at a time until we were upstairs, and she was tucked in, a night-light plugged in beside the door, and soft music playing to speed her into Dreamland.

  Downstairs I went through the moving-gifts-and-sitting-down ritual. “How do married people manage to conceive more than one child?”

  “Open it fast before Noelle shows up again.”

  “You are terrified I won’t like whatever it is, aren’t you?”

  “Just open it.”

  I put the box on my lap and slowly lifted the top. A silver oval on a fine gold chain lay on top of white cotton. Inside the oval, which was open in the middle, stood a tiny three-dimensional German shepherd, modeled in gold. The dog was familiar.

  I lifted the necklace and held it to my chest. “It’s so beautiful. He looks like Bismarck.”

  “Close as I could get. You like it?”

  “No, I love it.” I wasn’t a fan of glittery jewelry, but this necklace was classic, simple enough that I could wear it anywhere, anytime. And when I wore it, I would always be reminded of the dog who had saved my life and nearly lost his own.

  And, of course, the man.

  “Will you help me?” I held it out and turned so he could put the chain around my neck and clasp it. I turned back to him. “How does it look?”

  “You look beautiful.”

  I kissed him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You haven’t seen my gift yet.”

  He kissed me again, until I was pressing into the cushions behind me. “This isn’t it?”

  “You don’t even have to open mine. It’s not actually in the box under the tree, anyway. The real thing will be delivered after the holidays.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  I nibbled on his earlobe, to prove his point. “It’s a sofa.”

  “I have a sofa.”

  “For Bismarck.”

  “You bought Bismarck a sofa?”

  “It’s especially made for dogs. It’s so comfortable I’d sleep on it, if I was, you know, a dog. It’ll be perfect at the foot of your bed, so when I’m at your house, in bed with you, Bismarck will have another place to sleep.”

  His dark eyes danced. “You are so sure of yourself.”

  “You know I’m just waiting until you’re ready, Teo, and the girls are somewhere else. Because all systems are go here.”

  “Aunt Ryan!”

  “Coming!”

  He laughed, and then he kissed me before he stood to leave. “Lo bueno se hace esperar.”

  “That’s not fair. My Spanish is worse than rusty.”

  “Next year I’ll give you lessons instead of jewelry.” He smiled. “Good things come to those who wait.”

  As I walked him to the door and wished him a final Merry Christmas, I didn’t have to tell him I was counting on it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I kept Holly and Noelle busy over the holidays. We spent Christmas Day with my parents, and the next walking nature trails with the new backpacks and binoculars my father had given them. Two days later I treated them to Legoland, their big gift from me. The park was colorful and cheerful, my main criteria, plus none of the roller coasters were scary. We ate kid food, shopped for souvenirs and lapped up the entertainment at the official Legoland hotel.

  By the time they were back in school, I had a new appreciation for stay-at-home moms.

  “Eventually you forget what it’s like to sit on the toilet without somebody banging on the door,” Sophie told me, after I’d regaled her with anecdotes. “I still lock mine, just in case.”

  For the first time since the beginning of the holidays, we were observing our regularly scheduled morning phone call. We’d tried to catch a few moments when my nieces were occupied elsewhere, but Sophie had been busy, too. She and Ike had taken a quick Caribbean cruise over the holidays, which I’d just relived with her. My Sophie had stars in her eyes—or more accurately her voice.

  “I woke up one morning and there were two little girls and a German shepherd in bed with me,” I said. “I was an inch from going over the side.”

  “It’s a good day when you don’t.”

  The social portion of the call was finished. Both of us had work ahead.

  “I’m at a dead end with Wendy,” I said. “Bryce called Holly on Christmas Day, and then after he spoke to Noelle, he asked her to put my mother on the line. My mother. When she hung up, Mom was livid. I’ve avoided her ever since. If this goes on, I’ll have to change my phone number.”

  “Did he tell her about the divorce?”

  “Let’s just say she wasn’t coherent afterward. At the least he must have told her I’m not being straight with him. She said he wants the girls to move back in with her and Dad.”

  “What did you say to that?”

  “I told her the girls are happy with me, and we aren’t going to upset them with another move. Luckily, it was late in the day, so we left, and I haven’t talked to her since.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time to tell her at least some of what’s happening? And him?”

  “It’s not the kind of thing you blurt over the phone to a nuclear submarine commander, is it? Especially if his calls are monitored.”

  “Are they?”

  “I don’t know that they aren’t.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with Mom and telling her that her older daughter was involved in a murder, but Sophie was right. I hoped I wouldn’t have to tell her everything else I’d learned, at least not yet. I wanted to keep my conversation with Jonah private, along with my suspicion that Wendy had partied with way too many male admirers at a biker bar.

  Most especially I hoped I never had to tell her about the scary assortment of drugs in my sister’s medicine chest.

  “Are you going to talk to her today?” Sophie asked.

  I was still scurrying for a reason not to. “Not only is she going to be upset, she’ll want to call the authorities. And who can blame her? I’m stuck, and I don’t know what to do next.”

  “She might be able to get information about Kearns’s job at the Autumn Mountain Club, since that’s where he probably met Wendy.”

  I’d done enough research to know that Gracey Group still owned the club, but I hadn’t wanted to call and give my name, in case my call got back to someone in our main office or worse, my father. Instead I’d tried to get information by calling and pretending I was an adoptee who had put my birth information on an adoption registry. Wasn’t it simply amazing that Milton Kearns had done the same, and all his information matched mine? Now that I was so close to finding my father, could they help me locate him?

  The office manager had insisted that all employee information past and present was confidential. Even though I gave Meryl Streep a run for her money, I still hung up a failure.

  In turn Sophie had tried to locate the employee who Wendy claimed had led her to the Golden Aspen Resort and Spa, but with so little information, she’d been unsuccessful, too. The staff had been in and out on holiday vacations, and between the murder and rumors the resort might close its doors, half were already gone or scrambling for new jobs.

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  She told me she planned to follow up on a couple of leads about places Kearns might have worked. “But even if they pan out,” she warned, “the leads aren’t recent enough to be helpful, unless they point me somewhere else.”<
br />
  At least that was something. “Where are these places?”

  “One’s a bar in Alabama. The other’s in Canada.”

  “Would Canada be a good place to hide out?”

  “It’s not where I would go.”

  “And where would you go?”

  “In January? Somewhere with sunshine and beaches.”

  We hung up, agreed that we should both keep searching.

  My plan for the day was to hunt down Ella and insist she speak to me one more time. Sophie felt there was more she could tell me if she just would. I wasn’t sure that anything my sister had done at Gracey Group was relevant to her disappearance, but as always, I wasn’t sure it wasn’t.

  I hadn’t paid close enough attention when my mother had mentioned the name of the dentist whom Ella worked for, but I did remember he was an orthodontist because my teeth had ached in tribute. Now I checked online and recognized Borgman’s name at the head of the directory.

  I called the office and Ella answered. Her greeting, a little too high, a little too precise, was easy to identify. I cleared my throat, mumbled “wrong number,” and hung up. Then I changed into something more presentable than the leggings and T-shirt that had gotten me this far, and hopped in my Civic.

  Dr. Borgman’s office wasn’t far from the grocery store where I’d learned Ella was no longer working for my father. Luckily, Borgman had not been my orthodontist, so I didn’t have to resort to yoga breathing.

  Inside, Ella was sitting in the front behind a counter, and she rose to greet me, until she realized who I was.

  “Why are you here?” she said.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  She leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. “I don’t need to talk to you.”

  “I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll wait.” I glanced behind me where an older man was sitting in an armchair. “You have Women’s Health. I forgot to renew my subscription. And InStyle. I really am in luck. I could hang out here all day.”

  “Don’t plan on it.”

  “I could really use your help.” I leaned closer, too. “And for the record, I know my sister manipulated my father to fire you.” I didn’t really know, not unequivocally, but it was more than a stab in the dark.

  “Will this get you off my back for good?”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  She considered. “The office is closed from one to three. I’ll meet you out front at one.”

  Other than snatching her by her pretty lavender scarf and hauling her over the counter, I had no options. “Please be there, Ella. I really need your help.”

  She narrowed her eyes. My work was done.

  The closest coffee shop, Eyes Wide Open, was featuring buy-one-get-one-free lattes. I took my laptop inside, and by the time I’d roughed out an introduction for the first episode of Out of the Cold’s interim podcast, I was tuned for takeoff. An email from Glenn came in just as I was shutting down my computer. The subject line read: “Secure connection needed.”

  I hoped he had finally accessed the files on Wendy’s flash drive. The subject line didn’t scare me. Glenn had used the same one on an email of three moose looking out the windows of a car with a human body strapped to the top. Glenn was a member of both the National Rifle Association and People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. Go figure.

  Ten minutes before one I went back to Borgman’s office and found an empty space on the curb in front. I parked and leaned against my car, watching to be sure Ella didn’t sneak away. To her credit, she came out precisely on the hour, and headed straight for me.

  “I have until two.”

  “May I treat you to lunch? It’s the least I can do for strong-arming you.”

  She started down the sidewalk, past palm trees and street lamps. “You haven’t changed all that much. You used to smile at me like that when you wanted a piece of candy.”

  “Think of lunch as payment for all the Tootsie Pops.”

  “And you were always bullheaded.” She paused. “But at least you were clear about it. You didn’t simper, and you didn’t smile, and you didn’t lie.”

  I knew who she was describing. I took a big chance. “When you talked about my special relationship with Wendy, I thought you just meant that she was my sister.”

  “Oh?”

  “Now I know the truth. When did you figure it out?”

  “Your mother and father’s story was transparent to anybody who looked closely. But I had to give Arlie credit for coming back with you. I’m sure that sister of yours wasn’t happy about it.”

  “Wendy spent so little time with us when I was growing up, she never seemed remotely like my mother.”

  “I used to watch her whenever she had to be with you. When you were both at Christmas parties and other social occasions, she paid attention to you if other people were watching. She liked to show you off. Then, once you were both out of the spotlight, she ignored you.”

  Ella’s characterization was so cruel, I didn’t know what to say. But a kaleidoscope of images flashed through my mind, as if they’d been stored there, waiting for the right moment.

  She was right. Even my beloved alligator night-light? Bryce had been in the doorway watching when Wendy presented it to me. He’d been looking on, probably thinking what a perfect wife and mother she would make.

  “Oh, God.” I shook my head.

  “You don’t think it’s true?”

  “No, I think it is true.”

  She stopped walking, and for the first time, she actually looked sympathetic. “Your sister is very good at projecting whatever image will get her what she wants, Ryan. Do you know the worst? For a while, after things started going crazy at work, I actually wanted to be wrong. I wanted to be the one at fault. I cared too much about your parents to want them to suffer. But eventually they will. Because Wendy is good at pretending, but not good enough. She’s going to be brought down sooner than later. And they’ll have to cope.”

  We were standing in front of a small café advertising fresh mozzarella and other assorted Italian delights. “Here?” I asked.

  We went inside and ordered at the counter, taking drinks to a table in the back until our sandwiches were ready. My stomach was in such turmoil I knew I would have to take mine home.

  “Was that what you wanted to tell me? That you know Wendy’s your mother?” Ella unwrapped her straw and thrust it with such force into her glass that I felt sorry for the ice cubes.

  “I told you so you would know I’ve been in the dark,” I said. “And I still am. I need your help.”

  “You should talk to your sister.”

  “I’m not sure she’d give me the straight scoop. And she’s still out of town.”

  I could almost see Ella calculating how long my sister could stay away and still be valuable to Gracey Group. I wondered if I should offer her a job on the podcast. Between Ella and Sophie, nobody would ever be safe.

  “So?” she asked.

  “Did you learn something about Wendy that you didn’t share with my father? Anything so serious she would manipulate events to have you fired?”

  “Carrying details back to your dad won’t change anything. My termination was official, and my attorney approved all the paperwork.”

  I knew I had to tell her some part of the truth or she wouldn’t help. “I need to know what Wendy was up to back then, because she’s disappeared.”

  The server brought our sandwiches, and I watched as Ella played with her sub, looking between layers, moving the shredded lettuce to cover the surface, adding vinegar and oil from the bottles on our table. Finally she looked up.

  “She was having sex with our clients, the men she was supposed to be working with to organize tours and visits to the resorts. And if you say I told you, I will deny it.”

  I contemplated my sandwich and finally
forced down a potato chip.

  “Okay,” I said. “And you know this...how?”

  “A personal email to Wendy was routed to me by mistake. The details were quite...revealing. A second instance was reported to me by the manager of our resort in Barbados. Apparently your sister was so indiscreet, he was getting complaints from other guests. He was concerned about Gracey Group’s reputation.”

  “You didn’t tell my father? You had proof. Why not?”

  “Because I was a fool. I went to Wendy instead. I hadn’t come to terms with who she really was, and I told her she needed to be careful, that some of the things she was doing had been misconstrued.”

  “You thought the email was, what, a lie?”

  “The man who had emailed was somebody your father really didn’t want to do business with. I thought he might be trying to frame your sister.”

  “And you thought the manager in Barbados had misinterpreted behavior?”

  “No. He was a trusted employee, and by then I was suspicious. I thought about it over a long weekend, and then I spoke to Wendy. If anything was going on, it was important for her to know that she was being watched. By the manager, by me. I was such an idiot. I’d worked with your father so long that I never considered he wouldn’t listen if I was forced to tell him what I knew.”

  In my experience honest people often couldn’t comprehend the dishonest kind. They believed if they just made things clear, right would triumph. Until recently, I’d been one of them, at least as far as my own family was concerned.

  Ella was waiting for my response. I plowed through it. “I’m guessing Wendy quietly went behind your back and framed you so that my father would never believe anything you said about her.”

  “She proved she wasn’t just deceitful, she was experienced. Of course the email I’d saved to protect myself disappeared from my computer and our server. The flash drive I’d backed it up to went missing, and the manager in Barbados was fired for stealing cash from a hotel guest.”

  It was hard to believe my sister’s reach had extended as far as Barbados. But all of this was hard to believe, and I couldn’t discount any of it.