I approached him, feeling like I was meeting a stranger. At this stage in my life, I didn’t know how to address him. As I’d been accustomed to when I was younger, calling him Daddy didn’t feel natural. Dad had a familiarity I wasn’t ready for yet. And to call him Father seemed too formal.
He smiled shyly and pointed to a bench.
I shook my head. “Let’s walk if you don’t mind.” Walking would enable me to look around or ahead and not have to make continual eye contact.
“Thank you for meeting me,” he said.
“Mom told me you were dead,” I said without preamble.
“That doesn’t surprise me. Your mother was bitter about the divorce—and just about everything else in life.”
“With Mom being the way she was, why did you marry her?” Over the years, I had wondered that so many times. My mother was a complex and difficult woman. Couldn’t he have seen that before they’d married? Or had she only become that way after their divorce?
“What can I say? Love is blind, and sometimes deaf and dumb. You don’t know someone until you’ve lived with them. By then, it was too late.”
“Why did you stop coming to see me?”
“For a start, she told me you didn’t want to see me. That every time we were to spend time together, you would become so upset it made you physically ill. When I moved away to take a job in Florida, she returned all my letters and gifts, saying they only upset you.”
In my heart, I was relieved to know he hadn’t purposely rejected me, but it didn’t fully dispel my feelings of anger and disappointment.
“More likely, they upset her. When I was older, she said that you had been unfaithful to her. Were you?”
“No, but she wanted to believe that. It added fuel to her fire. It helped me to move on, though. You know what she was like. There wasn’t a glimmer of brightness in her. Frankly, I was relieved I didn’t have to deal with her any longer.”
My mother had been a solemn woman who had beaten back any happiness or joy that tried to enter our lives. If it hadn’t been for Nita and her family, I might have turned out the same.
“After she told me you were dead, she would never talk about you again and became angry if I spoke of you. I stopped inquiring.”
He looked down toward his hands, which were curling into fists. He didn’t bother to brush back his now graying hair that fell over his eyes. It was as though he was hoping it would block out the memories. “I stopped trying to contact you because I didn’t want to upset you.”
“But that doesn’t account for later when I became an adult.” I again tried to tamp down my resentment.
“A few years after I arrived in Florida, I met someone else, and we married. She had extreme feelings about divorce, not for religious reasons, but because of her parents’ divorce. I’m not proud of it, but I took the easy way out and never told her about my divorce and you. After we had Chris and Abby, we became so absorbed in their lives that I pushed away my sense of guilt. I’m sorry. That doesn’t say much for me.”
“So what about Chris? Did he know of me? Is that why he came to Louiston?”
“No. As I said, I never told any of them about you. I was as surprised as anyone that Chris ended up here—and now by his arrest.”
I thought of Chris and the times we’d talked. He’d always been pleasant and upbeat—like I remembered my father as being. “I met him on the film set, though briefly. He struck me as very nice, and I liked him. I’m very sorry about what’s happening to him.”
“He’s in trouble, and I don’t know what I can do to help him.” He grimaced as though in pain. “He could have never killed Beth. He used to call home and tell us about her.”
“Have you retained an attorney for him yet?”
“I have a call in to a couple and am waiting to hear back. I just got into town late yesterday afternoon. I came as soon as Chris called us. My wife is caring for her father, who lives with us and couldn’t come. He isn’t well enough to be left alone. Abby is working in England. I told her not to come since I was sure this was a big mistake and would soon be cleared up quickly. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Are you going to tell Chris about me now?”
“Yes.” He looked as though he’d rather walk the plank.
“I can put you in touch with an excellent attorney—the cousin of a good friend. We grew up together, and I can highly recommend him. Would you like his number?”
“Yes, that would be helpful.”
I gave him Ted Wojdakowski’s number and stood up to leave. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back. I slipped out during my lunch break.”
“Thank you for meeting with me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d refused.”
“I wondered what really happened to you and thought of searching for you. When I discovered my late husband’s infidelity, I came to understand how Mom felt, even if she might have been wrong about you. As a result, I lost interest in trying to find you.”
I started to walk away and turned back. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”
Chapter 21
Welcome buyers with an inviting front entrance. Add a clean doormat, seasonal plants, and an attractive light fixture that’s in keeping with the style of the house.
Walking away from the park, I thought of my father. He had been an extremely handsome man and had become even more attractive with age. My mother had believed his looks had been the cause of most of their problems and had warned me about good-looking men. Her warnings and Derrick’s behavior had helped fuel my now wariness of handsome men. Sad so many of our hang-ups are rooted in our childhood.
I’d been surprised and sorry to learn the police had arrested Chris, but I’d taken no personal interest in his situation. With the news of our relationship, that changed overnight. The police obviously found grounds to detain or charge him. What could I find out that would help me understand his situation and, if he were guilty, what had motivated him?
I hoped my father would retain Ted Wojdakowski to represent Chris. Ted was a serious and hardworking attorney who had represented friends in the past. If I were in trouble and needed an attorney, he’d be the first person I’d turn to.
Returning to the warehouse and entering the fourth floor, I caught sight of Simon coming from the other direction. Before I could turn and go back the way I came, he waved and came toward me. Just then, Gloria came out of her cubicle. Thankfully, he turned and followed her. I’d been spared having to deal with him.
Walking into the common area, I spotted Sam and Emma sitting there, finishing their lunch. We were back to box lunches. I grabbed one and approached them.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Hello, love, please do.” Emma moved her purple beaded handbag from a nearby chair. “You look all done in. Is this competition getting to you?”
I sat down heavily and sighed. “No, not really. It’s a lot of other things.” Peering at the contents of the cardboard box containing lunch didn’t perk up my spirits.
I unwrapped a sandwich that looked like chicken salad, paused, and switched off my mic. “Look, you might as well know this because word will eventually get out. Chris Channing is my half-brother.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Now that’s a surprise. Do Simon and Olivia know? That could present a problem. The others could feel you have an unfair advantage. At least so until the police took Chris into custody.”
“It was a surprise to me too. I just learned of his existence. I’m only telling you so you’ll understand why I want to question you about the night Beth died. I’d like to find out as much as I can about what happened that night.”
“Wow, that would’ve been a turn of events for you,” Sam said. “How is it you just learned he was your brother?”
“Long story—a father absent for too many years who just came back into my life.”
Even to
my ears, it sounded unbelievable. But it seemed to satisfy him, or he was too polite to ask further questions.
“What do you want to know?” Sam asked.
“What can you tell me about the night Beth died?” Using the term died wasn’t entirely accurate, but I couldn’t bring myself to say killed or murdered.
“It was the night of the meet and greet with the competitors and crew. A good many of the crew planned to go out for a drink afterward. To see what kind of nightlife this town has. I have to say not much.”
“It was a Sunday night.” I was surprised to find I felt defensive about our small town. “It’s fairly quiet here on Sunday nights.”
“We planned to meet in the hotel lobby,” Sam said. “Chris joined us, and we waited for some of the others, including Beth. She’d said earlier she planned to go along. When she didn’t show or answer her cell phone, we decided to leave without her. With the way Simon hits on every woman around, we figured she had gone out with him—pretty much like some of the previous production assistants had done. No one was worried, but Chris told us to go ahead. He’d try to find her, and if he did, they’d catch up with us later.”
“Do you have any idea what Beth and Chris argued about at the meet and greet? I heard someone told the police it had been rather combative.”
“I don’t know what they argued about, but I definitely wouldn’t have described it as combative. Chris had been upset by Simon’s interest in Beth, viewing him as a letch. Which he really is. They could have argued about that. But that’s only a guess.”
“What about you, Emma?” I asked.
“Sorry, love. I can’t help you with anything about that night. I dinna get here until the day after Beth’s death. It was an awful thing to come back to.”
“What about leading up to that night? Is there anything that can help me understand Chris and Beth’s relationship? What might have contributed to their argument?”
Emma sat quietly, as though searching her memory. “Beth joined the production crew at the beginning of this season—weeks ago. Chris joined shortly after that. Rumor had it he’d followed her from another job where they had worked together. Apparently, she hadn’t been pleased when he joined the crew.”
“Could she have left the other job to get away from him?”
Emma wove her fingers through her hair, leaned her head back, and stared at the ceiling. “As I mentioned before, there was something about Beth. Like she was hiding something. Although she appeared to be annoyed when Chris showed up, at times, she would gaze at him fondly. Like she secretly cared for him. Chris always seemed puzzled by her treatment of him.”
“Had they been in a relationship before coming to this job?”
“I can answer that,” Sam said. “Chris said they’d dated at their last production company, and everything was going great. Then something happened in Beth’s family that affected her. Shortly after that, she broke up with him, with little explanation, and soon changed jobs. Chris said she even changed her appearance, dressing like she was in disguise.”
“Did he take the job with this company to follow her?”
“That’s pretty much it.” Sam wadded up the wrappings from his lunch and put them into the cardboard box.
I took a bite of my sandwich, which I barely tasted, and contemplated what they said. “Did she view him as a stalker?” Young love was so painful.
Sam shrugged. “I don’t think so, but you never know what someone is thinking. As far as I’m aware of, she never made a formal complaint about it to anyone.”
I finished as much of the lunch I could get down, saved the brownie for Tyrone, and went back to our cubicle. Tyrone was standing on a ladder, putting the finishing touches on the area above the fireplace mantel. I remembered my mic and quickly switched it back on.
“The fake stone looks terrific,” I said. “It’s not something I’d use in a home for long term, but it will work for the competition. What do you think?”
Tyrone jumped down from the ladder and stepped back to check it out. “Not bad. Not bad at all. Once I get the crossed skis up, it’ll have the look we’re going for. I’ll put the snowshoes on the other wall over the desk.”
“Good, one more thing done. Thank you for taking care of that. Did you manage to get some lunch?”
“When have you known me to miss a meal?”
That made me laugh. Tyrone had the healthy appetite of a nineteen-year-old. “So you won’t want the brownie I brought you?” I dangled it in front of him.
“I won’t say that.” He snatched it from my hand, unwrapped it, and took a bite. “How did it go with your father?”
I turned my mic off yet again and motioned for Tyrone to do the same. “Better than I expected, but I’m not sure where it left us. He said he was going to tell Chris about me, but that could be today or next year.”
“Do you plan to visit Chris in jail? It’s a dismal place.” He wiped his hands on a paper towel. “I’m sure he’d appreciate a visitor. With you being a relative, they’d let you in.”
Tyrone had first-hand experience with the jail, having been accused of killing the owner of the first home we’d staged. He could well empathize with Chris’s situation and how frightening it could be.
“Knock, knock,” a voice called from the doorway. We looked up to see Robin and Luke, accompanied by a cameraman. Tyrone and I quickly turned our mics back on. This mic thing was becoming annoying.
“Hello, you two,” Luke said. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’d like to have some of your time to conduct an interview.” Olivia stood behind them, ready to perform her director duties. Was she going to direct us on how we should react?
I inwardly groaned and attempted to hide my dismay. Being interviewed was the last thing I needed at the moment. I would have to act natural and interested, but as I had learned after trying out for a role with the Louiston Players, I had zero acting talent.
We spent the next thirty minutes answering questions about our hopes related to the competition, which was a hard thing to address since I didn’t have any—other than to complete it and get out of there. Luke also asked about our backgrounds and threw us some questions about home staging work we’d previously done. The session also included some retakes when we stumbled over our responses or nothing came to mind. Tyrone and I held our own, but our performances wouldn’t win us any awards.
Later, I received a text from Nita asking me to meet her and Mrs. Webster at Vocaro’s when we finished for the day. Could they have discovered something already?
Chapter 22
Know your target buyer to determine whether to stage nurseries or children’s rooms.
I called Aunt Kit, told her not to wait dinner for me, and asked her to please feed Inky. I wasn’t sure what time I’d arrive home, and I didn’t want an unhappy pet waiting for me.
At Vocaro’s, Nita and Mrs. Webster occupied a table toward the back. Nita waved frantically at me to get my attention. This had to be good for her to look so excited.
“Girl, we didn’t think you’d ever get here.” Mrs. Webster pushed aside cups and food wrappers to make room for me. “We have things to report. First, tell me about your absentee father showing up? Nita told me he just suddenly appeared in your kitchen. Did he give you an explanation for where he’s been all these years?”
“We briefly talked today in Veterans Park.” I took a deep breath, trying not to let the memory of that meeting overcome me. “He said my mother told him every time he wanted to see me, I got upset, so he stopped coming. Later, he moved to Florida, married again, and had another family. I guess I became a distant memory. The thing that hurts the most is he showed up, not to see me, but because his son, Chris, is in trouble.”
“Give it time. You don’t rebuild a relationship overnight.” Her look of concern just about broke the little composure I had.
“That’s if we
can rebuild it. I’m not sure I can get over my hurt and anger.”
“But you now have two good reasons to do so,” Mrs. Webster said.
I looked at her, puzzled. “What two reasons?”
“A brother and sister.”
“That’s right, Laura,” Nita said. “You always wanted more family. Now’s your chance to have it.”
“We’ll see.” Time to change the subject. “So what do you have to report?”
“Neil gave me the list of homes that’d been burglarized, with the owners’ possessions being sold across several counties,” Nita said. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy to get it from him. You’d have thought it was Top Secret. I gave the list to Mrs. Webster, and she—”
Mrs. Webster frowned at Nita. “Let me tell my part myself. With the list and my contacts at several home health care companies, I narrowed the suspects down to two health aides who visited a good number of those homes. The problem is we don’t know if one or both of them was involved.”
“But haven’t the police already investigated who might have cased those homes” I asked.
“They have, but they might not have looked as closely at the medical professionals as Mrs. Webster and I have.”
“They’ll probably start looking again. But right now, with such a small police force, they’re focusing on that young woman’s murder,” Mrs. Webster said. “If Josh is in danger, we can’t wait until they get back to the burglary investigation.”
“To prove our suspicions, Mrs. Webster has an idea for a sting operation.”
“Nita, let me tell her about my plan.”
“Sorry. Go ahead.” Poor Nita was so excited she was almost jumping up and down in her chair.
Laura Bishop Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 55
