Strands of Truth

by Colleen Coble

  Her limbs didn’t want to obey her, and she walked stiffly to the front door with Ridge beside her. Her blood roared in her head, and she wet her lips as she rang the doorbell. Its distant tone chimed inside the house, but no one came to the door.

  “Let’s go around back. She might not hear us with the noise.”

  She nodded at Ridge and followed him around the left side of the house, past the one-car garage. The growl of the saw grew louder as they stepped around the corner, and she spotted a woman bent over a chop saw on the back deck. She chopped a long length of treated lumber, then fitted it into place on the deck. The woman’s head came up as she spotted them.

  She stood and stretched out her back. “Hello, can I help you?”

  Harper took a step closer to her, and the color drained out of the woman’s face. “Lisa?” she whispered.

  Harper’s ears roared again as the blood pounded in her head. “I-I’m Lisa’s daughter, Harper. Are you Kelly?”

  The woman’s breath hissed out between her teeth. “You look just like her.” Her hand shook a bit as she raked her hair out of her face. “I have a million questions, but I need something to drink after working on the deck. Sweet tea for you both?” Her gaze lingered a moment on Ridge.

  “That would be great,” Harper said. “This is my friend Ridge Jackson. He’s been helping me learn more about my mom.”

  Kelly nodded at him. “Nice to meet you.” She looked like she was in her midfifties, and her light-brown hair curled around her head in a halo. She wore white shorts and a blue tank top that exposed tanned arms.

  She led them to a covered porch off the back of the house and pointed to four chairs with blue cushions arranged around a table. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” She went through the back door.

  “I have a good feeling about this,” Ridge said. “She recognized you immediately.”

  Kelly came back through the door carrying a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and three glasses. She set it on the table and poured the tea, then passed the glasses around before she dropped into a chair beside Harper. “I can’t get over the resemblance. Your mom had those same turquoise eyes. Her hair might have been a touch redder than yours, but you look so much like her it’s uncanny.” She took a sip of her tea. “How can I help you?”

  “I’d love to know about my mother. How long did you know her?”

  “Forever. Lisa and I went to school together from the seventh grade on.”

  “Where was this?” Harper longed to see their high school yearbooks and silly pictures of her mother goofing off.

  “Here in Orlando. I never left and neither did she.”

  “Is anyone in her family still alive?” Harper held her breath as she waited for the answer.

  “She was an only child and estranged from her mom when I knew her. I think that’s what made her so vulnerable to your father. I heard her mom died of a drug overdose a few years after Lisa’s death. I don’t know much else about her family.”

  Harper caught her breath. “You knew my father?”

  “Knew him?” Kelly wiped the condensation from her glass. “I don’t think anyone really knew him. She called him Huey and was really funny about telling me his real name. I met him once, but the porch light was out when he came to pick her up, and I only saw his white teeth and broad shoulders. He was older than her by probably twenty, twenty-five years. Handsome from what I could see and dressed well, so I thought he probably had money.”

  “Huey? Unusual name,” Ridge said.

  “He flew a Huey chopper for the navy. That’s about all I know about him.”

  Harper tucked away that nugget for later examination. “She never married him when she found out she was expecting me?”

  “I’m pretty sure he was married, but your mom never admitted it. She was excited she was going to be a mom. We both worked for Disney. We both worked in accounting, and I threw her a baby shower with our coworkers. She had so much stuff it took two trips to take it to her apartment.”

  Harper’s eyes burned and she blinked back tears. “Do you know what happened? How did she die?”

  Kelly took a sip of tea. “Truthfully, I never believed she ran that stop sign. She was a careful driver, especially when she knew she was going to be a mom. She came home the night before she died super upset. Shaking and crying. I think his wife came to see her.”

  Ridge leaned forward. “What makes you say that?”

  “She said, ‘that witch,’ over and over. She wouldn’t tell me what happened. The next day she was gone. I tried to get custody of you when your grandma died, but I’d just lost my job and the powers that be didn’t think I was the motherly type at the time. It’s one of my biggest regrets that I couldn’t do anything to save you from her mother. Was living with her rough?”

  Harper didn’t want to dim the woman’s bright hazel eyes with the pain of her childhood. “It wasn’t so bad. Better than the foster homes I was in later. And I turned out all right. Do you have any pictures of my mom, yearbooks or anything like that?”

  “I have a box of stuff in the garage. Let me get it for you.” Kelly rose and went back inside.

  Harper didn’t know how she felt. How sad to know her mother wanted her yet was never able to hold her. She took a sip of sweet tea. The sugar bolstered her and she drained her glass in one swig.

  Ridge reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay. At least I know my mom loved me, but it makes me more determined to find her killer.”

  He nodded. “I’m beginning to believe both women might have been murdered. Maybe by the same person.”

  While she agreed, it was hard to form words or thoughts with his thumb tracing circles in her palm.

  19

  If Lisa hadn’t run the stop sign, what had happened? Ridge listened to the women talk as they went through pictures and yearbooks. The conversation had veered into the things Lisa had liked to do, what courses she’d taken in college, and the type of work she did for Disney. All very interesting to Harper he was sure, but he had more questions about Lisa’s death. If Harper’s father had killed both women, Kelly might have information she didn’t know she possessed.

  He set his glass of iced tea on the table. “Harper mentioned we talked to the detective investigating Lisa’s death. He also wasn’t convinced the crash was an accident. Her car disappeared from the lot before he could complete his investigation. Did you ever hear that?”

  Kelly set down her glass of tea. “You mean someone stole it? I never heard that. I saw it before it was hauled to the police lot. It hit the side of a big dump truck. The front end was damaged but not so much that it couldn’t be driven. Lisa only lived about two hours.”

  Ridge had assumed she’d hit her head or suffered some other kind of traumatic injury and had died at the scene. He’d even wondered if paramedics delivered Harper at the scene. He shot a glance at Harper to make sure she wasn’t overly upset by talking about her mother’s death, and she gave him a slight nod.

  “The detective said no one seemed to know what had happened to it. He also told us her last words were, ‘The mermaid was right.’ Do you have any idea what she might have meant by that?” When Kelly’s eyes widened, he knew the words meant something to her. “What is it?”

  Kelly wet her lips and glanced at Harper. “I’d been trying to decide if I should mention this or let it go. Lisa had been with her boyfriend at Cocoa Beach, and he left to go get them some food while she bathed in the sun. A woman approached her out of the blue and told her she was dating a dangerous man. This woman told her to check into the murder of a Weeki Wachee mermaid in 1971.”

  Harper caught her breath. “Judy Russo.”

  “That was the name the woman gave her. She told Lisa she needed to back away from the guy she was dating or she’d end up dead too.”

  “Did Lisa say what the woman looked like?” Ridge asked.

  Kelly shook her head. “The whole thing gave he
r the creeps, but she decided she’d see what she could find out. She went to Weeki Wachee and asked around. Some friends of Judy’s still worked there, but no one could tell her the identity of the man Judy had been seeing.”

  “Do you know who she talked to?” Ridge suspected it might have been Grace or Silvia, who would have been around twenty at that time. If so, why hadn’t either one mentioned it when they saw her?

  “She probably told me the woman’s name, but I don’t remember after all these years.”

  “We’ll see if we can find out anything.”

  Kelly nodded, and her gaze went to Harper. “I know I’ve said it before, but it’s downright crazy how much you look like Lisa. You even had red hair when you were born.”

  “You saw me after I was born?”

  “Of course. I was in the waiting room when you were born, and I was there when your mom died. I wanted to bring you home with me, but DCF took you straight to your grandmother. You had several visitors the day you were born.”

  “Visitors?” Ridge asked. “Friends of yours and Lisa’s?”

  “No, it was a couple I didn’t know. I thought they might have been prospective foster parents.”

  “Do you remember what they looked like?”

  Kelly pressed her fingers to her forehead. “It was so long ago. All I can remember is that they were older. Maybe in their forties. I can’t even remember their hair color. Sorry.”

  And the hospital would have no record of visitors. Maybe it was nothing, but what if it had been Harper’s father and his wife? Maybe he had to make sure Lisa never awoke.

  Ridge drank the last of his iced tea. “We’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks so much for all the information.”

  Harper rose too. “And I really appreciate these pictures of my mother. I didn’t know anything about her except that she died in an accident.”

  “I’m glad.” Kelly stood and embraced her. “Come back any time. I’ve got your phone number, and I’ll call if I think of anything else. I’m so glad to have finally met you. Your mother would have been so proud of you.”

  Tears glinted in Harper’s eyes as she hugged Kelly back. He was becoming more and more ashamed of the assumptions he’d made about Harper all these years. Was it any wonder she’d absorbed the love Oliver had given her like a dry sponge? She’d received very little of it in her life.

  She released Kelly, and Ridge picked up the box of pictures and yearbooks. They walked back to his truck, but before he put the box into the backseat, Harper grabbed Lisa’s senior yearbook.

  “I’m glad we came. I feel I know my mother now.”

  He nodded and pulled out the drive and headed into the glare of the setting sun. “Let’s stop and get some dinner.”

  “Okay, I’m starving. How about The Melting Pot? Fondue sounds different and fun.”

  Cozy too. Maybe he’d get a chance to apologize for being so mean to her. He was discovering maybe the reason he’d been that way was because it was the only method he had for resisting her.

  * * *

  Feeling comfortably full, Harper sat across from Ridge at a booth. The aromas of cheese, steak, and garlic hung in the room in a tempting mixture.

  The dessert of cake pieces to be dipped in the chocolate fondue appeared appetizing, but Harper sat back anyway. “I don’t think I can eat any more. This was so good.”

  Ridge dipped chocolate cake in the fondue, then held it up to her lips. “You have to at least try a bite.”

  How could she refuse with that challenging expression on his face? She opened her lips, and he deposited the nugget of chocolaty goodness in her mouth. The explosion of flavors hit her tongue. Chocolate, hazelnut, maybe a touch of cinnamon.

  It was so good she reached for her fondue fork. “Okay, maybe a couple of bites.”

  He grinned. “I thought I could persuade you.”

  He was so handsome in his red and black Tampa Bay Buccaneers shirt. So many times lately she’d been tempted to plunge her hands into his thick black hair. She’d spent way too much time imagining how it would feel. This pull she felt toward him was something she’d never experienced before.

  She realized she was staring when his smile faded and his brows rose. “Something wrong?”

  Heat scorched her cheeks and she busied herself with getting another bite of dessert. “Just lost in thought.”

  She put down her fondue fork and didn’t look at him until he reached across the table and took her hand. She slid her gaze up to meet his, and her pulse stuttered at his expression. She should say something—anything—but all thought left her head at his touch.

  “I’ve been wrong about you, Harper, and I want to apologize.”

  Before he could continue, she blurted out, “I know I was a pain when I was a teenager. We got off on the wrong foot, and it was as much my fault as yours. I wasn’t very trustworthy.”

  “You’re being way too gracious. It was all my fault. I told myself I didn’t like the way Dad catered to you, but now after spending so much time with you, I realize I was fighting my attraction to you.”

  Her fingers convulsed around his. Did he just say what she thought he said? She shook her head slightly to clear it. That couldn’t be right. She was projecting her own feelings into this conversation. “I-I don’t understand,” she managed to say.

  “I want us to start fresh if you’re willing. You may hate me for the way I’ve treated you all these years, but I hope you can forgive me.”

  Her pulse was doing crazy things in her chest, but she managed to move her head in an up-and-down motion. “Of course.”

  Did this mean they’d spend more evenings like this as well as evenings under the stars on her boat while they talked? And maybe it meant more nights like when they’d sung together and clowned around.

  His grip on her hand started to slide off. “You don’t have any feelings for me?”

  Her paralysis had sent the wrong message. She grabbed hold of his hand and didn’t let him pull away. “I-I do have those feelings, Ridge, but I didn’t think you could possibly feel the same way.”

  His dark eyes lit up and he smiled. “Well, that’s a relief. I thought you were about to crush all my hopes.”

  “Y-Your sister won’t be happy.”

  “Willow doesn’t run my life. When I’m with you, I feel—happy. Complete. It’s not just been our search into what’s going on—it’s you. It’s not easy to admit I was wrong and misjudged you. I thought you were pregnant and trying to use Dad to support you. He told me I’d misunderstood a phone conversation I overheard, and I’m realizing he was right. I’m sorry for misjudging you.”

  Cold prickled her neck and shoulders. “P-Pregnant?”

  He’d overheard them talking? How did she even begin to explain?

  “Silly, I know, but he’d said something about always being there for the baby. I’m not sure now what he was talking about. Or even who he was talking to.”

  She needed to tell him the truth, but she didn’t want to spoil this magical moment. She couldn’t bear to tell him he wasn’t wrong—that she was hiding something monumental from him. They’d had so much fun together. There would be time to tell him later.

  20

  The hospital halls were like a morgue at three in the morning. His sneakers made no sound as he slipped like a wraith down the hall toward Oliver Jackson’s room. With any luck the guard would be gone and the room would be empty of staff. He’d attempted to do this yesterday, but there had been an accident involving several people and the hospital had been packed. He hadn’t been able to get into Oliver’s room without being seen.

  He paused where the halls intersected and peered down the final turn to Oliver’s room. The door was closed and unattended. Perfect. He darted a glance back toward the nurses’ station, but the two women on duty were talking together, and he caught snatches of conversation that indicated one was pouring out her marital problems.

  Good. That would distract them from any soft noises.
>
  He made the turn down the hall, quickly pushed open the door, and stepped into a shaft of moonlight, then closed the door behind him. He could hardly hear above the pounding of his blood in his ears, but he stayed by the door until he calmed down and could hear there was no pursuit on the other side of the door.

  He slipped over to the bed and looked down into the old man’s face. His mouth was slightly open, and his black hair contrasted against the white pillow. Oliver’s breath whispered in and out in a gentle rhythm.

  He pulled out the needle and vial, then drew the liquid into the syringe as he’d been taught. This was the part he dreaded. Murder. His love for his son spurred him on, and he steeled himself to do what was required. Fast and silent.

  The needle slipped easily into the IV tube and he pressed down on the plunger. Oliver flailed out an arm and knocked the empty vial from his hand, and it rolled away into the darkness. Oliver whipped out his hand and knocked the needle out of the IV.

  He bit back a curse when he heard a nurse in the hall, then whirled and slipped into the bathroom until she passed by.

  He needed to get out of here. Hopefully he’d injected enough poison to do the job. He rushed for the door and made his escape.

  * * *

  Dad has to be all right.

  The litany repeated over and over in Ridge’s mind as he parked in the hospital lot and rushed inside. He’d called Harper on his way in, but she hadn’t answered so he left a message that the hospital had called and Dad had taken a turn for the worse. He was in a coma again.

  When he stepped out of the elevator onto the cardiac floor, he found it quieter than expected at four in the morning. It was too early for surgical patients to be arriving, and he didn’t pause at the information desk.

  Several nurses sat at their computers, and a young and pretty one saw him. “Mr. Jackson. I’m so sorry about your father.”