“What a wonderful thing to do.”
“Like I said, the Darnells give a great deal to this town.”
“I’m here on behalf of her grandkids. You mind giving me directions to her place?”
“It’d be my pleasure. Before you leave I want to box up a blueberry pie. Her housekeeper is a good cook; still Mrs. Darnell always says I make the best blueberry pie.”
River took a long drive to the top of the hill. The Darnells lived in a mansion, not a house. The gardens overflowed with all nature’s colors. They were expansive and well-kept, as was the beautiful house, from what she could see. River parked her car and walked up to ring the bell.
“Good afternoon,” said a handsome middle-aged woman.
“Good afternoon. My name’s River Nightingale, and I believe Mrs. Darnell is expecting me.”
“She is. Come in. Don’t tell me, a blueberry pie?”
“Yes, the owner of the diner wanted me to bring it to her.”
The housekeeper took the box.
“Well, this will be a special treat. Mrs. Darnell hasn’t felt much like going into town the past few weeks. Maybe this will lift her spirits. Please follow me; she’s in the solarium enjoying the afternoon sun.”
Mrs. Darnell sat in a white wrought iron chair with intricate patterns on the back. Soft pale green cushions were attached to the seat and back. She was dressed in cream-colored, well tailored, raw silk slacks, with a matching cream and beige silk top. Her silver hair was pulled loosely back and gathered in a swirl at the base of her skull. A few wisps left free framed her elegantly-aged face. Her head was tilted back, eyes closed, soaking in the rays of the early afternoon. Surrounded by ivies, ferns, ficus, hibiscus, passion flowers, and orchids, River could picture this on the cover of Traditional Home Magazine.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Darnell. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Darnell said as she leaned her head forward. “River Nightingale, please pardon my lack of good manners. I’m not as spry as I used to be. Please come over and have a seat. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you, I too have been looking forward to meeting you,” River said, and took a seat directly across from the older woman.
“I received a phone call from my grandson. He informed me you were working for him, trying to find out who murdered my precious Trudy. Thank you, sincerely, for discovering Trudy and Wade were murdered. Please find out who did this. I will do anything to help you.” She reached for the fine lace handkerchief on the table beside her and dabbed her damp eyes. “I attended my daughter’s funeral, and yet I feel as though she could walk in at any time.” She dabbed again. “How is it I can help you? I didn’t know many of their business associates. If my husband were still alive, I’m sure he would be of more help.”
“Is that the only thing Blake told you I wanted to speak with you about?”
“Yes,” she said in an uncertain tone.
“I came here to speak with you regarding a different subject.” River quickly learned people found it extremely difficult to give their loved ones bad news, and would often leave the matter to the police—or private detective.
“I would like to get your take about the accident and anything you may know with regards to the days leading up to it. However, that’s not the main reason I’m here.”
Mrs. Darnell tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. “I see.”
“I believe this would be easier coming from your daughter.” River reached into her oversized purse which she used as her traveling briefcase, and pulled out a copy of Trudy’s letter. River got up, walked over to her, and placed it in her slightly shaking hands. She sat back in the chair and waited for the woman to read the note, deal with the flood of emotions to follow, and finally reach resignation.
“Garnet and Blake know?” the older woman asked as her watery hazel eyes locked onto River’s. Tears trickled unchecked down her cheeks. “I begged her, God knows, I begged Trudy not to do this. I tried everything. Told her that her father and I would stand by her side every step of the way, and use everything in our power to make sure she kept all her children. She wouldn’t do it.” Her words came out almost a whisper. “She wouldn’t put us, or her children through the embarrassment. She didn’t want their lives destroyed by this as hers turned out to be…I told her she would regret her decision until the day she died. How could I say such a terrible thing to my only child?” She looked at River beseechingly.
“You were her mother. You were trying to keep her from making the biggest mistake of her life. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You did everything you could, but the ultimate decision was hers.”
“It put a tremendous strain on our relationship with Wade. My husband refused to go visit. Trudy and the children always came here. I only went up when Wade was out of town. Please tell me, how are the children dealing with this?”
“That’s why I’m here, Mrs. Darnell. Blake and Garnet want their sister in their lives.”
River’s statement made the older woman cry once again.
“I wasn’t sure you would be willing or able to help in this matter; I’ve researched what I can up to this point. I know seven baby girls were born on the date of your granddaughter’s birthday. I can locate each of these women and attempt to narrow down which one it might be. I can direct Blake’s attorney to petition the court and open the adoption records. We both know if it was a private, closed adoption, the likelihood of them winning the case is weak, at best.”
Sorrow and grief swirled around the older woman. She shook her head slowly, sadly.
“It’s exactly like Trudy. She protected her family to bitter end.”
“I don’t understand,” River said.
“Trudy didn’t go through with the adoption, I did.”
Chapter Eight
“The nurse put the baby girl in Trudy’s arms and she fell apart. Emotionally destroyed, she couldn’t function. She handed the baby to me. Made me promise on my mother’s grave I would carry out her wishes, and put the baby up for adoption. She dressed and left the hospital the same day, but didn’t return home until ten days later. I was beside myself, thinking she’d done something terrible to herself. She went back to her life ten days later, and never spoke of that day again.”
The older woman shook the letter high in the air.
“Had I known…had I only known Wade talked about locating the girl, everyone’s life would’ve turned out so very, very much different.”
Mrs. Darnell broke down. Her nurse appeared at her side, the housekeeper close behind. Her soul-deep anguish flowed from the older woman, racking her entire body.
“I think you should go,” the nurse said to River.
Darn. She’d come so close and she felt the heartbreak. River nodded and rose. She walked over to Mrs. Darnell, squatted down in front of her, and placed her hands over the woman’s.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Darnell.” With that she rose and headed for the door.
River got into the rental car and dropped her head back against the headrest, emotionally drained. It would be her priority to locate this girl and bring her back to her grandmother. She was startled out of her thoughts by a rap on the window. The housekeeper stood there as River rolled down her window.
“Thank goodness you haven’t left,” the woman gasped, trying to catch her breath. “Mrs. Darnell is insistent you come back inside. She said her story isn’t finished and you need to know the rest.”
When River walked back into the house, the housekeeper showed her down the hall and into the library. Mrs. Darnell sat on one end of an antique, high-backed Victorian loveseat, sipping on a steaming cup of tea. When she saw River, she placed the cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of her.
“Thank goodness she caught you.” She
looked over at the nurse hovering in the corner. “You may go.” The nurse hesitated for a moment and then headed for the door. She stopped beside River.
“Please don’t upset her again,” the nurse said.
“It wasn’t her fault. Please go,” Mrs. Darnell said firmly.
“I’m terribly sorry you saw me in such a state. Seems the sins of our past have come to be heard. Please sit.” She patted the spot beside her.
“There’s no need for you to disrupt those six girls’ lives. You see, I couldn’t bring myself to do what my daughter asked. Trudy’s baby girl was her daughter, and my granddaughter. The baby did get legally adopted. There were only four people who knew the truth—me, my husband, a dear friend who deeply wanted a child and was unable to carry her own to term, and her husband. Tami is a brilliant school teacher and she lives in Cellar Glen.”
River’s jaw dropped. She shook her head as if trying to clear away stars.
“You know where Tami lives?”
“I know where she lives, who she’s dating, what her favorite color is, and her deepest thoughts. Her father died over a year ago. Her mother, my friend, is dying of pancreatic cancer. Tami knows me as her mother’s best friend. I never told Trudy. In the beginning, I knew if I did, she’d take the baby away, and have an agency place her. As the years went by, I thought if I told Trudy, she would hate me, never trust me again.”
This time there were no tears. She appeared to have cried them all out and left behind was her stark heartbreak and regret.
“Wait a minute. You mean to tell me Trudy never ran into your friend and her daughter?” River said. The puzzlement she felt must’ve shown on her face.
“I’m sorry. I’m usually much better at explaining. My girlfriend, Tami’s adopted mom, and I became friends while my husband and I lived in San Francisco. Tami and her parents lived on the other side of the city. Tami was the Dean of Business at one of the universities. Her Mom became weaker and weaker, and Tami drove back and forth every day, from the university to her Mom’s. She wanted to move her Mom away from the city. I suggested they move here and my girlfriend agreed. Tami knows she’s adopted. Her parents chose to tell her the truth early on.”
“This is more than I could’ve hoped. Now that I know where Tami lives, after her mom has a chance to explain her story, I can return and speak to her about meeting her sister and brother.
“Let me call Tami’s mom and see how she’s feeling. Would you mind stepping out for a few minutes?” Mrs. Darnell asked.
“How’s your friend feeling?” River asked, as she walked back into the library.
“She sounds weak and tired, but she doesn’t want to put this off any longer. I think she’s afraid she’ll die and not get the chance to explain everything to Tami. She told me she’d talk to Tami this weekend. Would you mind if I keep this letter?”
“It’s a copy I made for you. Did you tell her about the current situation?”
“Yes, I did. I also told her about the letter. She would like a copy when she broaches the subject with her daughter. I gave her your name and number and asked them to contact you or me.”
“A wise idea. I will be sure to keep you in the loop. Thank you for telling me this. When the time comes, I believe it would be easier on Blake and Garnet for you to be the one to tell them who their sister is. Tell them the same story you told me. It’s important for them to know every detail.”
Mrs. Darnell reached out and took one of River’s hands.
“Thank you so much for coming out today. I feel a great burden has lifted off me. It will be difficult to explain all this to my grandchildren, but I believe you are correct.”
Twilight fell by the time River left Mrs. Darnell’s home. She headed out of town, turned the music on, and absently hummed along as her brain clicked into overdrive. You never could tell how complicated or difficult a case would be to solve. She’d thought it would be months, maybe more until she discovered the identity of the Baxters’ half-sister. River had hoped Mrs. Darnell would at least have the ability to point her in the right direction. She never dreamed she would hear what she’d heard from the older women. She shook her head at the loss of it all.
For an instant, River was blinded as the headlights behind her filled her rearview mirror. She squinted and glanced into her side view mirror. The vehicle appeared to be approaching quickly. Someone late for a hot date, she thought. She decided her best course of action would be to move closer to the shoulder and slow down, the international sign for come around me. As she started her maneuver, the headlights grew brighter. Suddenly the rental was rammed from behind, the momentum snapping her upper body into the seatbelt. Her head missed the steering wheel by a scant inch.
“What the hell,” she said, and got rewarded with another slam from behind. “Damnit, this guy is serious.”
Obviously a date was not this driver’s agenda. She punched her foot down on the gas as her rear window shattered into a million tiny pieces. Another gunshot hit her car and she swerved and ducked. Head low to the steering wheel, she reached out and punched the speed dial button on her phone.
****
Gage’s phone vibrated on the table, and lit up with River’s picture he’d taken the other night at dinner.
“Don’t worry. The flight won’t leave without you; actually you’re not late for another fifteen minutes. I’m just hanging out sipping on lemonade. When we touchdown in Seattle, I could use something stronger,” he said.
“Gage, someone’s shooting at me,” River said.
He dropped his feet off of the seat across from him and sat up straight.
“Are you positive? Damn, scratch that, ex-cop.”
He heard glass breaking in the background.
“Get your gun out, the asshole means business.”
“I can’t. I left it in the trunk with all the rest of my stuff.”
“What the hell did you do that for?”
“Because I visited a little old lady, in a village, and didn’t expect to be assaulted on my way back.”
“Wonderful.” He threw a few dollars on the table, grabbed his gear and headed for his car. “Where are you?”
“By my estimation I’m about fifteen minutes from you. I’m hoping they’ll break off before we get to civilization.”
Gage headed out of the lot in River’s direction.
“Yeah, good luck with that. Keep playing offense. We should meet up in about six minutes. I’ll flash my lights as I approach. You keep coming; I’m gonna box him in. And stay on the line.”
He heard more glass break and the squeal of her tires as she tried to keep from being an easy target. Then he heard a crash and a grunt from her.
“River?”
“I’m all right. He caught up to me. Shit, here he comes again.”
Another sound of crushing metal and her hiss came through his phone.
“You should be seeing my headlights any second, hang on.” Damn, where the hell was she? he thought. He broke the crest of a small hill and saw a set of headlights weaving, another pair directly behind her car. Thank God. He flashed his headlights.
“I see you,” River said, sounding a little out of breath.
“Keep coming dumbass, you’re mine now,” Gage said to the assailant, as he flattened the gas pedal to the floorboard.
As if reading his mind the attacking vehicle broke off to the right, and down a dirt road, leaving a wave of stones flying in every direction. River’s car flew by and Gage hit the brake.
“River, he broke off. River?”
“I hear you. I’m slowing down. Let’s keep going until we get to the airport.”
Gage shook his head. He’d been exceptionally impressed. Not only was this woman witty and attractive, but daayum, she could handle a vehicle.
She pu
lled into airport parking and he pulled up beside her. He jumped out of his car and ran over to her, yanking the driver’s door open. She sat there arms crossed over the wheel and head leaning against them. He knew the feeling, a queasy stomach as the flood of adrenaline tapered off.
“Let me help you out,” he said.
He heard her take in a deep breath and sit up. He could see a large bruise starting over one cheek where she’d probably hit the wheel.
“Unhook your belt,” he said.
He saw her grimace as she reached for the buckle.
“Ribs?”
“Yeah. I’m certain they’re bruised, I might’ve cracked one or two,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
Finally releasing the belt, she slowly turned in his direction. He saw the blood covering her upper arm and shoulder. It looked like she’d been hit with a bullet or flying glass.
“You’re bleeding.” He pointed to her shoulder.
“He nailed me on the first shot. It went straight through. I don’t think it hit the bone.”
She winced as she attempted to use her injured arm to get out of the vehicle. Gage leaned in, slipped an arm under her injured arm and around her body, and then lifted her from the car. She bit her bottom lip, but a stifled whimper escaped anyway.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
“I think so. My legs feel like jelly, but I don’t think they’re injured.”
He looked into the front seat to make sure she’d left nothing and quickly counted six gunshots which had torn through the seat. The nose of a bullet protruded from the seat; another inch and it would have pierced her spine.
“You said all your things are in the trunk?”
P.I. I Love You (Miss Demeanor Suspense Series Book 1) Page 5
