Hidden Legacy

by Lynn Huggins Blackburn

“Let me do some legwork in Wilmington. Flashing a federal badge might help speed things along. You get to the Crawfords. Show up this morning and beg if you have to. We know so much more than we did yesterday—maybe it will be enough to convince them to help. There could be clues, a letter or a legal document, a photograph. Something that can help us tie all of this together.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Because until we figure out who is behind this, and why, we are chasing thin air.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “You can get my regular cell phone number from Caroline. It will work now. Keep me informed. I’ll do the same.”

  Jason printed all the info he’d uncovered on Charles Townsend. As it printed, his phone beeped.

  A text from Heidi? Already? He stared at the words on the screen.

  Your hunch was right. Charles Townsend = fake name. Got my best computer guy on it.

  They were getting close. So close. But the realization brought no comfort.

  The closer they got to finding out what was going on, the greater the danger Caroline and Henry were in.

  The last sheet printed. He grabbed the pages and sprinted for the door.

  “Where’s the fire?” Michael called after him. He caught him on the stairs. “What’s going on?”

  Jason gave him the condensed version.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Jason considered his options. “Stay put for now. I may need you here if we end up needing a warrant for the Crawfords’ house. If Mr. Crawford lets us in, I’m going to want you to help us sort through Steph’s stuff.”

  Michael nodded. “You got it.”

  Jason hit his lights and flew through the early morning stillness. He made one stop for coffee and pastries. Something told him this was a day that would require a lot of both.

  When he cut the engine in Caroline’s driveway, Kyle met him at the door. He took the coffee box and nodded. “Good call. We’re going to need this.”

  “Have you talked to Heidi?” Jason assumed she would have called Caroline. Or Kyle. Or both.

  “Yeah. She lit into Caroline for not sleeping. Lit into me for not making her. Then told us she’d already talked to you and you were bringing more info on Stephanie’s husband before her phone started ringing and she had to go.”

  Caroline didn’t sleep? After what he’d told her? “Where is she?” He could hear the growl in his words.

  “In her room. Henry’s still asleep.”

  Well, that was something to be thankful for.

  He pulled out a cinnamon roll and tossed it on a paper plate. Maybe if he brought a peace offering, she wouldn’t hate him.

  Because he was about to give her a boulder-sized piece of his mind.

  *

  Caroline pulled another paper from the box. There had to be something useful in here. Something that would make it all clear. But she’d been at it for hours and had found only more dry, boring paperwork. So boring, in fact, that she’d dozed off a few times. Each time she’d awakened in a panic.

  If Stephanie had tried to leave a clue, she’d done too good of a job hiding it.

  “Caroline?”

  The voice was familiar, but she jumped to her feet in surprise.

  Jason.

  Like a killer would have bothered to announce himself. She needed to get a grip.

  Jason held her gaze. She didn’t need him to say what he was thinking. She could read it on his face. He was not happy.

  “I didn’t go to bed.”

  “I noticed.” He took a deep breath. Was he counting to ten in his head? He looked like he might start yelling at any moment. “You should have—”

  She spoke fast. “It’s not because I didn’t think you were right. About needing sleep,” she said. The thought of sleep elicited a yawn.

  Jason shook his head several times, his aggravation obvious. Then he did the last thing she’d expected. He shrugged. “You can do whatever you want, Caroline.”

  Oh no. This was worse than the argument she’d been bracing for. She’d rather deal with his frustration than his apathy.

  He put a cinnamon roll on her dresser, and she could tell he was struggling to keep his tone civil. “I stopped for coffee. Whenever you’re done here, we need to talk.”

  He turned on his heel and marched out of her room.

  Well, that was just great. He wasn’t the one people were trying to kill. If she wanted to stay up all night looking for clues, that was her prerogative.

  So why did she feel like she’d been caught with her finger in the icing?

  If she’d found something—anything—he wouldn’t be mad. Well, he might still be mad, but he would have gotten over it.

  She reached for the little teddy bear in the bottom of the box, wondering how it had gotten mixed up in a box of paperwork. She thought the toys had all been packed together. Maybe this one hadn’t been in the toy chest for some reason? It was cute, plush with a sweet navy ribbon around his neck. She fingered the bow, noticing it was skewed.

  It was ridiculous, but at least this was one thing she could fix. She had a real knack for tying bows.

  Good grief. Someone had knotted this poor rib—

  Her hands trembled.

  Get a grip, Caroline. It’s just a knot. But…

  She wasn’t imagining it. There was something stuck in the ribbon. She worked the knot as carefully as she could. The ribbon had been wrapped multiple times around something small. It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who wasn’t messing with the bow.

  A few more loops untangled.

  A ring dropped into her hand.

  A ring with a family crest.

  “Jason!”

  She was annoyed with him, but her first impulse had been to call him.

  He ran into her room. “What is it?”

  Apparently his first impulse was to run to her.

  Something about that made her yearn to run straight into his arms, but she forced herself to remain where she was.

  “Caroline?”

  Hoping he’d believe her agitation was due to the ring, and not to the way he was making her emotions ping around in her heart, she held up her discovery. “I have no idea what this is, but I’m sure it’s important.”

  He reached for the ring. She expected him to take it from her, but his hand rested beneath hers and wrapped around it. She looked into his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s your life, and I know you believe you have the most to lose.”

  She should say something witty, but all she could do was nod.

  “I was angry because I’m worried about you. And when I’m worried, I tend to overreact.”

  “I remember.”

  “Some things never change,” he said with a shrug.

  “Some things do. You apologized.”

  He smirked. “True.” He looked like he wanted to say something else. She saw the moment he decided against it. “May I?”

  She nodded, and he lifted the ring from her hand. He studied it. “What do you make of it?”

  “It’s a family crest. That kind of ring used to be pretty common with certain wealthy families. Usually families that have old money.” She knew Jason had major issues with people who inherited their money. He’d always made an exception for her and Blake. Said that they weren’t spoiled. She knew where his negative feelings about money came from. His biological father had a lot of money he’d inherited. “A ring like this,” she said, “would typically be passed down from father to son. Maybe to a grandson.”

  “Firstborn?” Jason continued to study the ring.

  “Usually, but not necessarily.”

  “Do the items on the crest mean anything to you?”

  “No. We don’t have one, and I never got into that kind of thing.”

  “Where did you find it?” She showed him how it had been tied into the bow of the teddy bear. His eyes grew large. “That was Stephanie’s way of hiding something for you to find? You could have tossed that bear in the trash or donated i
t.”

  “True.”

  “What made you look?”

  “The bow wasn’t even.”

  “The bow—” He laughed. Then laughed harder. “Now I get it.”

  Kyle poked his head in the door, Henry in his arms. “Care to let me in on the joke?”

  “No joke,” Jason said. “But Caroline is the only one who’s going to be able to uncover any of Stephanie’s clues.” He showed Kyle the ring. “She hid this one on a teddy bear.”

  Caroline tuned them out as they had a good laugh at her expense. So what if she couldn’t leave a picture crooked on the wall? Or a bow with uneven tails? That didn’t mean she was a nutcase.

  She scrambled to her feet and reached for Henry. She pulled off a piece of the cinnamon roll, and Henry opened his mouth like a baby bird. “Let’s get some breakfast and catch up.” She glanced at Jason. “I’m guessing you have news for me.”

  Jason continued to study the ring. “Between my news and this ring, we may be close to finding out who Henry’s dad is.”

  FIFTEEN

  Caroline settled Henry into his high chair. She traced his nose, lips and chin with her fingertip. He grinned at her. The grin that sometime over the past year had become the one he reserved for her and her alone. The grin that said “You’re my mommy and I think you’re awesome.”

  Her stomach clenched as she rested her palm against his cheek. How could anyone want to harm him? Why? What could she do to stop them?

  What if she failed?

  “Hey,” Jason said from behind her. “You okay?”

  Was she okay? “I don’t know.”

  He moved toward her, then stopped. Why had he stopped?

  “Let’s compare notes and see how you feel then.”

  They scooted Kyle’s assortment of laptops to one side of the table and sat. Well, she sat. Kyle paced from one computer to the next, eyes scanning the screens. She had no idea what he was looking for, and she no longer had the mental energy to ask. Jason leaned against the buffet she’d inherited from her grandmother.

  “You first,” she said.

  A self-satisfied grin crossed his features as he handed her a sheet of paper from the folder he’d been carrying. “Look familiar?”

  She studied the mug shot. This picture was of a man, probably in his early thirties, with dark blond hair and…

  She looked at Jason. “Who is this?”

  “I don’t know, yet.”

  “Who do you think he is?” she asked.

  “Who do you think he is?”

  Fear coursed through her at his words. The wavy hair, the shape of the nose and forehead, those eyes. She’d never been any good at the “he looks like his father” or “she’s the spitting image of her grandmother” game. But you’d have to have zero observational skills to miss this connection. Was this man…? No. Stephanie said Henry’s father had died. But what if he was a living relative—maybe a brother?

  She couldn’t find her voice.

  Kyle could. “Looks like a grown-up version of Henry. Is that the little guy’s dad?”

  Jason explained what he knew.

  “So, this guy was killed in a jail riot while Stephanie was pregnant with Henry. And the charges could have been trumped up. And the guy you arrested last night says the same people who are trying to kill Henry had this guy killed?” Kyle asked.

  Jason nodded. “Accurate summary.”

  “Well, what’s his name? What else do we know about him?”

  Jason’s earlier confidence vanished. “Not much. The name he was arrested under is fake.”

  “Fake?”

  “Good enough to stand up under the initial court proceedings that landed him in jail. But it only took Heidi about ten minutes to figure out it wasn’t real.”

  “Heidi?” Caroline asked.

  “Yes. She was in DC when we spoke earlier. She was headed to Wilmington this morning to do some snooping around. I’m hoping we’ll have some info from her soon.”

  “What kind of snooping around?”

  Kyle snorted. “The kind she does best.”

  “Which is?”

  He grinned at her. “Heidi can be very persuasive. My guess is she’ll start out sweet. And if she doesn’t get the answers she wants when she wants them, she’ll go spicy on them fast.”

  Caroline looked at Jason, then back at Kyle. “That is not an answer. I’ve seen Heidi’s spicy side. What, specifically, will she do?”

  There was so much in this situation that was out of her control. But she felt she at least had the right to be told what information they had. She would not sit back while everyone made decisions on her behalf and she would not be kept in the dark. It was her life. And Henry’s. If she lost Henry now… No. She would not go there.

  Jason pulled out a chair and sat at the end of the table. “Heidi didn’t explain her plan. However, if I had gone to Wilmington today, I would have started at the police station. I would have explained—very politely—that I was looking into the death of an inmate while making sure not to antagonize the local law enforcement officers or make them feel like I was trying to step on their toes.”

  “What would you be hoping to achieve from this conversation?”

  “More details. The inside story about what happened as opposed to the sanitized version that was undoubtedly all the press heard. Was there an investigation? Were there corrupt officers involved? Had there been any clue that Charles Townsend wasn’t his real name or that he was hiding something?”

  “Would they tell you all that?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But I wouldn’t just pay attention to what they’d say.”

  Caroline handed Henry another piece of the cinnamon roll. “What else is there?”

  “Body language can be very revealing. Sometimes you get no answers to your questions, but you find out who knows more than they’re sharing, or which clerk might be willing to talk to you later. That kind of thing. Sometimes you go in and ask questions knowing full well you won’t get answers. Then you step back and watch to see what reaction your questions stir up.”

  Kyle banged his coffee cup on the table. “Kick the hive.”

  Kicking the hive was an analogy she could follow. “Then what?”

  “That’s when it gets fun. You follow people around. You make phone calls. You talk to more people. Eventually you find the person who wants the truth to come out.”

  “Or somebody shoots you,” Kyle muttered.

  “Helpful,” Jason said. Jason was fluent in sarcasm, and Kyle definitely brought it out in him.

  “I don’t need the kiddie version, Jason. And, Kyle, I doubt anyone is going to shoot Heidi.” The squabbling between these two was going to make her crazy.

  “So the bottom line is, Heidi is going to try to find out who Charles Townsend really was?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what are we going to do?”

  “First, we are going to do some research on this crest.”

  Kyle rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I can help with that. Should be able to sniff around a few databases.”

  Jason agreed. He didn’t look happy about it, but he agreed.

  “What else do we need to do?” she asked.

  “We need to get cleaned up and go ask Mr. Crawford to let us look through Stephanie’s stuff.”

  Ugh. Again with Stephanie’s stuff. “Fine.”

  *

  Jason checked his watch. Ten thirty. Mrs. Crawford should be at church and then headed out to lunch.

  Caroline set Henry’s diaper bag on the hood of the car. “Are you sure about this?”

  “No,” Jason admitted. “But now that we know Stephanie deliberately hid at least one clue, we need to go through her things.”

  Caroline rested her head on the door frame. “I don’t want to fight with them.”

  “We won’t.” She didn’t look convinced. “We’ll be respectful. We’ll explain that we have new information, and we’ll hope Mrs. Crawford stays gone long en
ough for us to get what we need.”

  Caroline strapped Henry into his car seat and put her own seat belt on without further comment. Was she still mad at him? Did she disagree with this step in the investigation?

  He put the Explorer in Drive. “Hello?” He bumped her arm with his.

  She looked at him like she was trying to memorize his features for a lineup or something. Did he have cinnamon on his lips? Because she was definitely looking at his lips.

  Her face flushed, and her eyes dropped to her hands. “Let’s get this over with. I can’t believe I’m missing church to go badger a grieving father about his dead daughter’s belongings. I feel dirty doing this.”

  He reached for her hand before he could stop himself. He should keep both hands on the wheel. But her hand slid into his, and it fit so right.

  “I promise I’ll be nice.”

  “You’d better be.”

  They rode mostly in silence, and when they arrived, Jason parked the Explorer behind Mr. Crawford’s old truck. Jason hopped to the ground, planning to make a beeline for the other side of the car to open Caroline’s door.

  But…something wasn’t right. Mr. Crawford’s truck door was open. So was the front door. He reached back in and grabbed her arm. “Slide into the driver’s seat.”

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t argue. She moved across the console, her purse in her hand. “Is your gun in there?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Good. Keep the car running. Turn it around so you don’t have to back out of the driveway if you have to leave in a hurry. And if I tell you to go, floor it.”

  As soon as he edged away from the car, he heard her throw it in Reverse.

  Then he heard another sound.

  A grown man. Sobbing.

  He raced toward the house.

  “Mr. Crawford! Mr. Crawford!” He ran through the open doorway and paused on the landing of the split-level.

  “How could this have happened?” Mr. Crawford’s heartbroken voice came from the lower level. Jason bolted down the stairs.

  “Mr. Crawford, are you okay?”

  He found Mr. Crawford standing in a foot of water at the bottom of the stairs, tears etching his face. “Do I look okay to you, son?”

  Jason tried to grasp the magnitude of the devastation. The walls of this room were lined with boxes. There was no question that the contents of the bottom row of boxes would be ruined. But the great tragedy was the canvases floating across the room.