by T. E. Woods
There’d been nothing from him all day.
She slipped her phone back into her purse, sent a wish for his safety into the night, then opened her car door and headed toward the brightly lit house.
“You must be Sydney!” The woman who opened the massive front door had a smile on her face and a drink in her hand. She also had the body of an athlete. Stocky, but no one would describe her as fat. The word strong would be more apt. With her copper hair, green eyes, and freckles, she gave Sydney the impression of someone who might have finished a day of snowshoeing across a frozen lake before changing into the burgundy silk cocktail dress she wore. “I’m Natalie. The only offspring Alden and Lucy managed to produce. Come in! Come in! As they say, the weather outside is frightful.”
They stepped into a stone-floored foyer with mirrored walls. Its tall ceiling and multitiered crystal chandelier suggested to Sydney she’d stepped into a child’s jewelry box, the kind that would have a ballerina ready to twirl each time the lid was opened.
“Thank you for having me.” Sydney handed her coat to a stout woman in a plain dark dress holding out her arms to receive it. “I hope I’m not disrupting anyone’s plans.”
“Nonsense,” Natalie said firmly. “Juju here is always eager to set another place at the table. It gives her a chance to hear someone other than us rave about her cooking. Isn’t that right, Juju?”
The stout woman nodded as she closed the mirrored closet door. “It’s roast chicken and winter vegetables tonight. Sounds plain enough, but I promise you’re gonna love it.”
“I’m sure she will.” Natalie waved to her left, sloshing her drink a bit as she did. “Daddy’s waiting for us, along with the rest of the crew. Come along. Love those trousers, by the way. My waist is a bit too damn trunklike to pull something like those off.”
Sydney didn’t have time to thank her for the compliment before Natalie strode down the middle of three halls radiating from the home’s main entrance. She picked up her pace so as not to lose her escort. They passed several arched openings, but Natalie was moving too fast to allow her anything more than a glimpse at the rooms. They came to a stop when the hallway ended in a railed balcony overlooking a large salon.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our guest of honor est arrivé.” Natalie stepped aside and motioned to the people assembled in the room. “May I introduce Sydney…Sydney…” She turned with wide eyes. “Forgive me, darling. I’ve lost your last name.”
“Richardson.”
“Of course.” Natalie turned back to address the people looking up. “Sydney Richardson. If Daddy’s memory hasn’t yet gone to vapor, she’s a treasure from our dear, departed Miranda’s past.”
Alden York stood at the bottom of the five-step staircase. He was handsome in his camel suede sports coat and turtleneck. His smile seemed tired but genuine as Sydney descended the stairs.
“Welcome to our home, Sydney.” He held out his hand. “Let me introduce you to a few friends.” He led her to where Natalie stood beside a trim man with thick, carefully styled hair. “You’ve met my daughter, of course. This is her husband, Brice Cortes.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Sydney said.
Brice’s face shifted to a look of confusion. He glanced toward his wife, then to Alden, then back to Sydney. He lifted his right hand and reached toward her face. Sydney dodged herself clear as his hand touched her left ear. He pulled his hand back to reveal a red feathered fluff the size of a golf ball.
“There it is!” He tucked the thing into the breast pocket of his blazer. “I’ve been looking for that all day. Thank you, Sydney, for finding it.”
Natalie slapped a playful hand across her husband’s arm. “Forgive him, Sydney. My Brice fashions himself a bit of the magician. I’ve told him dozens of times that people find him nowhere near as entertaining as he finds himself. But, as you can see, my words fall on the deaf ears of a man who dreams of the limelight.”
Sydney looked to Alden, but he seemed oblivious to his son-in-law’s antics.
“Nothing to forgive,” she told Natalie before smiling at Brice. “I’m a huge fan of magic. Although I always want to know how the trick is done.”
Brice quirked a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. “Good lady, I’m sworn by the prestidigitator’s code never to reveal my secrets.”
“That’s enough, Brice,” Alden said. “I think Sydney would benefit more from you producing a drink than another glittery thingamabob. What will you have, Sydney?”
“A glass of white wine, if you’ve got it.”
Brice snapped his fingers and pointed her way. “Pinot grigio, am I right?”
“Yes! That would be nice.”
Brice scampered to the bar at the far end of the opulent room. A vision of a well-trained Labrador fetching the stick his master had thrown sprang into Sydney’s mind.
“One more person to meet,” Alden announced. He led her to the fireplace, where a very tall man with wide shoulders and thick silver hair stood beside the crackling logs. “I invited him especially. He’ll give you an insight into Miranda the rest of us can’t. Sydney, meet Denton J. Fulcraft, bishop of the Church of Today. Denton, this is the young woman I told you about.”
Fulcraft offered his hand and Sydney shook it. “Miranda’s childhood friend,” he said. “From Montana by way of Madison, is that correct?”
Sydney knew this would be an evening of lies. “That’s right. Miranda and I were in grade school together. We lost touch. I was thrilled when she contacted me.”
Fulcraft’s eyes held on to hers. They were blue. Icy, like Miranda’s, yet far more piercing. Sydney had the impression he was trying to see deep within her, trying to reach into her essential core. She was relieved when he spoke again.
“How terrible it must have been for you to lose her. After all those years apart. I know the Lord works in mysterious ways, but still, it’s difficult to reconnect with someone dear, only to have them ripped away in such a brutal fashion.”
Sydney glanced away, hoping she looked appropriately bereaved.
“It was brutal,” Alden agreed. “We’ll probably never fully understand what drove Miranda to carry out such a desperate choice. Did she offer you any clues, Sydney? Anything at all that might indicate why she would feel so desolate she needed to end her own life?”
A genuine pain gripped her. Alden York was obviously deep in his grief over Miranda’s death. “No,” she murmured. “I don’t have one single clue as to what happened.”
“Where were you when you heard?” Fulcraft asked.
She thought it an odd question, but was grateful for the opportunity to answer something honestly. “I was at a friend’s house. Clay Hawthorne. He’s the father of Miranda’s son. The police came to notify him after they found her.”
Alden took two steps back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll check with Juju about dinner.” He left the room without another word.
“Perfectly icy.”
Sydney turned to see Brice offering her a glass. “The wine,” he clarified. “Daddy Yorkbucks had a new wine fridge installed. The thing’s a marvel. Red wine one side, white on the other. Produces the perfect level of chill for every taste.”
“I find myself apologizing for my husband again.” Natalie joined them at the fireplace. “You’ve been here less than five minutes, Sydney. That may be a new record for social blunders dropped by my dearest. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you, my love?”
Brice suddenly seemed fascinated with the ice in his own drink.
“Miranda’s been a part of our lives for sixteen years,” Natalie continued. “I’m sure she told you how Daddy brought her into the business. Did you know she even lived with us? For years. Turned our guesthouse into a cute little home.”
“She described your relationship as more sister-like than friend,” Sydney said.
Th
e patina of sophistication slipped from Natalie’s face. She lowered her eyes for a moment. When she spoke, her voice had none of the urbane glib she’d demonstrated since she opened the front door. Her tone was soft and vulnerable. “I certainly felt that way about her.”
Denton Fulcraft picked up the story. “Miranda made her home here in Ann Arbor. Work, the church, the Yorks. Everyone embraced her. Opened whatever doors we could.”
“And she made the most of her opportunities,” Sydney commented. “At least that’s what I was led to believe.”
“She did,” Fulcraft agreed. “If that woman said she was going to do something, by hook or by crook, she did.”
“Is that why you chose her to open the new congregation in Madison?” Sydney asked.
“She told you about that? Yes. Our church is growing rapidly. Our message resonates with people. And I’d like to think, in addition to God’s hand, a major part of our success is knowing which areas are ripe for expansion. Miranda was valuable in that regard. She understood business. Marketing. I thought Madison had the demographic most likely to benefit from our teachings and suggested starting a satellite congregation.” He glanced toward Natalie and Brice. “That was when we learned she had a connection to the city.”
“Her son,” Sydney said. “Steel.”
“What kind of name is that?” Natalie asked. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I have to remember Miranda was just a kid when he was born. Perhaps the name made sense at the time.”
“Actually, it suits him quite well. She’d never mentioned him?”
“No.” Fulcraft shook his head. “Not to me, not to Alden. Not even to Natalie. And I imagine the two of them shared plenty of girl-to-girl secrets throughout the years.”
“It just about crushed Daddy,” Natalie contributed. “He had her on such a pedestal. He’d always light up when she was around. And, thank whatever God it is the good bishop here prays to, Miranda took everything I taught her about fashion and shoveled it all over my father. She shaped him up in ways my own mother couldn’t…and that woman spent their entire marriage trying. When he learned Miranda had a child—one she’d abandoned for the hippy-dippy life she was leading when he found her—a child she’d kept hidden all these years while she lived under our roof and ate at our table. Well, I don’t have the words to describe how it devastated him.”
“And Natalie has lots of words,” Brice chimed in. “Lots and lots and lots of words.”
“Did it change her role at ImEx?” Sydney asked.
“Good God, no!” Natalie exclaimed. “I said he was crushed, not deranged. I don’t know how much Miranda told you about the history of ImEx.”
“Not much. As you can imagine, we spent most of our time talking about the old days.”
“Well let me bring you up to speed.” Natalie handed her empty glass to her husband who, in turn, made another sprint to the bar. “ImEx has long kept the York family comfortable. This house, my schooling. Mother’s club. We were doing all right when Miranda came along. Within five years of her joining the company, the Yorks were swimming in an entirely different pool. Mother and I swapped two-week vacations in Florida for summers in the South of France. Daddy stopped shopping for Mom’s Christmas presents when she told him Tiffany’s would call and arrange everything. My own money man tells me it’s highly unlikely I’ll ever have to set an alarm clock.”
“And that was all Miranda’s doing?”
“It was. Daddy lives and breathes ImEx. He started the company. Miranda turned it into a global player. As destroyed as he was to learn about the love child in her closet, Daddy would never turn ImEx over to anyone but Miranda.”
“What will happen now?” Sydney asked.
Brice had returned. He handed his wife a glass with fresh ice and four fingers of bronze liquid. “This is number three, my love.”
Natalie took her drink. “Look at you, Brice! Counting all on your own! Such a big boy!”
Denton Fulcraft turned a weary, disapproving glance toward Natalie York and her husband. “Sydney, how about I show you the guesthouse? You’ll be able to see where your friend lived.”
“Do we have time? I don’t want to interfere with dinner plans.”
The bishop put a gentle hand on her elbow and turned her toward the stairs leading to the home’s main hallway. “Not to worry. Juju serves her first course at seven-fifteen. Ships at sea set their timepieces to her punctuality. We’ll let Natalie and Brice spend a few moments in private. Give Alden a bit more time to gather his composure.”
He led her back down the main hallway, chatting idly about the wood used to panel the walls. He stopped at the third archway, the last room they’d pass before returning to the mirrored entryway.
“I think you’ll find this space interesting.” He switched on a light in a parlor decorated in a distinctly feminine style. “This was Lucy’s sitting room. She’d greet her guests here. Always said it was the place she felt the most like herself. Alden’s presence was by invitation only.” He pointed to a pair of chairs upholstered in pink-and-green striped silk. “Have a seat.”
Sydney obeyed and watched the well-bred grace with which Fulcraft undid one button on his navy blazer before taking his place in the opposite chair.
“At last, we can relax.” He leaned back, crossed one long leg over the other, and rested his elbows on the chair’s arms. He steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Her heart quickened at the shift in his tone. “Searching, I guess. My friend is dead. And just like the rest of you, I’m looking for answers.”
“It’s just you and me talking now, Sydney. I’ll ask again, why are you here?”
Her throat tightened. She shifted her hands to the arms of the chair, hoping to steady herself. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He looked away, as though so disappointed in her response he was struggling to compose himself. “Alden called me today. Just after you left ImEx. He was thrilled to have a new connection to his beloved Miranda. He wanted me to share the excitement and invited me to join the family for dinner. I accepted, of course.” His blue eyes communicated his warning. “When the largest single donor to my church announces a stranger is in the midst, I do my research. You were raised by Joe and Nancy Richardson. Adopted at birth. I wasn’t able to learn anything about your birth parents, but that’s not necessary. For my purposes, it’s enough to know you’ve spent your entire life in Madison, Wisconsin, save for a two-year period when you traveled the world. How’d you afford such a trip, Sydney? Did another wealthy older man foot your bill?”
She didn’t respond.
“You’ve been busy back in Madison since your return. Two restaurants. Impressive. But you and I both know restaurants are risky ventures. You’ve never married. No children. But imagine my antenna perking up when I discovered you and Clay Hawthorne are quite the item.”
How could you know that?
“You’re sleeping with the father of Miranda’s child. No longer a child, of course.”
“You knew Miranda had a son.”
“I’ve known of young Steel’s existence since the beginning. Ever since Alden called me all those years ago excited about a young woman he’d just met in a diner across from his warehouse. As I said, I research strangers who come knocking. Miranda never knew what I’d learned about her. There was never a need. Contrary to being a threat to Alden, Miranda was a godsend. Loyal to ImEx, Alden, and the church. But I knew Steel’s existence could be valuable someday. Sure enough, when I chose her for the Madison expansion, she couldn’t resist.”
“She’d be serving your purposes rather than York’s.”
“Alden and I share the same mission. We want to spread the good news of God’s love and desire for us to succeed to any and all.”
“And his money pays for that gospel.”
“Our church is large. And it’s growing. Revenue streams are steady. It is my intent to keep them that way. Which brings me back to you. I have no idea what scheme it is you, Clay, Steel, or whoever else might be involved in, but it’s over. It ends now.”
“Alden might have something to say about that.”
“Alden need not know. You’ll leave immediately. I’ll tell him you’ve taken ill, regret the inconvenience you’ve caused, and have returned to your hotel. He’ll be disappointed, but he’ll get over it. On the other hand, should you decide not to leave, I’ll announce what I’ve learned about Sydney Richardson, the woman who’s spent her entire life probably never having set foot in Montana, but who has spent considerable time in the arms of Miranda’s child’s father. That will do considerably more than disappoint the dear man. And Natalie. She’s fiercely protective of her father. And of Brice. Husband number three, but devoted to his wife nonetheless. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. To tell you the truth, I can’t be held accountable for what might come next.”
“And you?”
“Me? I’m a humble servant of the Lord. One who’s telling you the best thing to do is leave. Now. Go back to that Holiday Inn I’m sure you were hoping would be upgraded to the Ritz. Pack your things, return to Madison, and focus on what tomorrow’s special of the day will be.”
Sydney weighed her options and came up with only one. Her investigation had come to an end.
At least for the night.
She stood, and so did Fulcraft.
“I’ll get your coat. I know where Juju hangs them. Follow me.”
She did just that. He retrieved her jacket from the hall closet and handed it to her. Then he walked to the heavy front door and opened it.
“Goodbye, Sydney. I’m hoping you’re a woman who calculates her risks. If you are, you’ll know never to be in contact with any of the Yorks ever again.”
