by Meryl Sawyer
Philip nodded. "It's possible. If you can get me the—"
"In the other room, I have a copy of the report done by the Phoenix coroner."
"Okay, assuming we discover she was poisoned, what are you going to do?"
"You still won't know who is responsible," Pop added gently.
"True, but Logan and I downloaded a lot of information on brucine. We reviewed it on the flight to Caracas. We could check records to see who purchased it."
"I could help there," said Philip. "Brucine is one of the most tightly controlled substances. Just about the only legal use for it is in producing denatured alcohol. I could quickly check records around the country—overseas if necessary—and see which one of the Stanfields purchased it."
"Look for Benson Williams's name as well," Kelly told him. "There's something very odd about his relationship to the family."
Philip didn't stay much longer. When she walked him to the door, a bolt of thunder rocked the house, then blue-white lightning cursed them in a blistering flash. Instantly, rain pelted down in torrents, blown sideways by the wind. He streaked for his rental car and drove off.
The weather matched Kelly's mood, and she stood in the doorway. She kept hearing Logan's raspy voice. Seeing his high-dimpled smile. Feeling his strong arms around her.
In a suspended state, she gazed out at the storm, protected by the overhang. Something had shattered inside her, leaving hundreds of knife-edge pieces. Jagged, hard to fit pieces. Could she put her life back together, knowing her carelessness had caused Logan's death?
Her answer was another blast of thunder followed by a searing lance of lightning that split the heavens in half. The power of Mother Nature, so often seen in Red Rock country, was awesome. Even beautiful. Especially when she was furious.
Mother Nature echoed Kelly's anger and frustration. She must have taken to heart Uma's Navajo teachings. Thunderstorms were the gods' way of showing their vengeance.
Kelly, you're the only woman I've ever met worth dying for.
"Darling, I promise you that I'm going to get the person responsible for your death." The words were hardly out when tears came, falling as fast and hard as the rain.
"Mami, mami."
Rafi had come up behind her and was tugging on her skirt, his concern showing on his sweet face. She'd been terribly upset lately, and she knew it frightened him. He'd been through a tremendous ordeal, yet he'd never whined or complained. For his sake, she had to pull herself together.
She leaned down and picked him up. His little arms circled her neck, and he hugged her. The tears slowed and a warm surge of love seeped through her.
Thank you, Logan. I wasn't worth dying for, but saving Rafi was so important. You wanted him to have a better life, the kind of loving family you never had. I promise that he will. I'll never forget the sacrifice you made.
God bless you, and God keep you, darling. You are beyond pain at last. Your body will be buried in Arlington, but I honestly believe your soul is free. It will be here in Red Rock country where you will have what you never had in life … people who love you.
* * *
Chapter 36
« ^ »
Kelly sat on the floor with Rafi, helping him put together a puzzle. It was still raining, so they were playing inside. With a little help, Rafi jammed the last piece into place.
"Gato," he cried, then clapped his hands, delighted with his accomplishment.
"Cat," she told him. In the twenty-four hours since Philip had told her about Logan's fate, only her determination to devote herself to Rafi had kept her from breaking down.
Rafi jumped up and straddled the fire engine Pop had given him and began to tinker with the hoses. He was thrilled with his new home. She didn't want to diminish his happiness by letting him see how sad she was. She wished that she had a dozen children to occupy her time.
But last night, she had discovered that she wasn't pregnant after all. There wouldn't be a baby to carry on Logan's name. She was left with nothing but his memory to cherish.
"Kelly," Pop called from the doorway, interrupting her thoughts. "Woody Stanfield is here."
"I don't want to see him," she replied. Philip Wilson had yet to get back to her with the expert's opinion on Suzanne Stanfield's autopsy report. As far as she was concerned any one of them could have killed Tyler's wife—then Logan.
"What about Rafi?" Pop said, his voice low. "Social Services approved you and Logan for adoption. You're a single parent now. Don't give them any reason to take him away from you."
"Just let them try." An upwelling of fierce maternal protectiveness swept through her with astonishing intensity. No one was taking Rafi away from her.
Pop stood there, not saying anything, the way he often had when she'd been a child, behaving stubbornly. Woody could make certain that Logan's death did not become an obstacle to the adoption.
"You're right," she told her grandfather. "I'll see Woody." She left him with Rafi and walked down the hall into the living room. Woody was on the sofa in the place where Philip had been yesterday.
Woody looked so much like Logan that it was all she could do not to burst into tears. Had Logan lived to be an older man, this is exactly how he would have looked. A full head of hair, no longer a rich chestnut, but a mellow pewter. The lines on his face would have added more character. The intelligent blue eyes that missed nothing would not have changed. Neither would have the high-dimpled smile.
"Kelly, I'm so sor-sorry."
The hitch in Woody's voice and raw emotion he was holding in chock startled her. He genuinely cared about Logan, she thought as she sat down.
"How did you know?" she asked in the flat, lifeless voice that had become her own.
"I chaired the Armed Services Committee for years. I still have contacts. When the news came in from Venezuela, they called me. What happened?"
She parroted Logan's version just as she'd done at the debriefing. Finishing the edited version, she told him, "I saw the gunfire from the helicopter. He never had a prayer of a chance."
Woody looked at her for a moment. "He must have loved you very much."
He'd never said he loved her. Was the word "love" necessary? You're the only woman I've ever met worth dying for. Logan had loved her enough to die for her.
"I loved someone like that … once. It changes your whole life overnight. Suddenly, career goals aren't important. Personal happiness is all that matters."
"I take it that the great love of your life wasn't Ginger." The words blurted out of her with startling frankness.
He rose and she thought he was going to leave, put off by her bluntness, but he walked over to the window. The storm was passing, leaving the water on Oak Creek at a much higher level. He gazed out for a moment, then turned to her.
"My father worked in the oil fields in Oklahoma until he was killed in a drilling accident. I was in the eighth grade and had to quit school to support my sick mother."
His tone was earnest, yet a little forced. She had the distinct impression he was a man who was unaccustomed to sharing his personal feelings with anyone. Like father like son.
"A year later my mother died. She made me promise to leave the oil fields and make something of myself. She said she would be standing next to St. Peter the day they swore me in as president."
The heartfelt emotion in his voice touched her in a way she hadn't anticipated. It was totally obvious that he loved his mother. She had been a major influence in his life, and all these years later, despite wealth and success, he still missed her.
This was exactly how she felt about Pop. She hoped that one day, when she was no longer alive, Rafi would have such fond feelings for her.
"I came to Pheonix and worked three jobs, hardly sleeping until I had a nest egg. I bought a rundown apartment building. It took me a few years to profit from a rising real estate market and buy a chunk of land with a quarry."
She listened to him describe turning the worthless quarry into Finicky Feline Flake
s, the country's most popular cat box litter. It was a story she already knew—thanks to Pop, but others did not. Benson Williams had carefully cultivated an image of a poor boy making his fortune mining gemstones.
"Suddenly, I was thirty-two and rich. It only seemed natural that I should marry. Ginger was beautiful, the perfect choice. It wasn't until later that I realized beauty isn't important.
"I should have divorced her, but I wanted a political career. Back then being divorced was the kiss of death. I had affairs; Ginger had affairs."
Kelly couldn't imagine living her life like that, but she knew people did.
"Ginger became pregnant with twins. I knew I wasn't the father, but my career was hot. I expected her to divorce me and marry the Vegas gambler who had gotten her pregnant. Then the man changed his mind and left the country.
"It devastated Ginger. In a way, I don't think she has ever recovered. She withdrew into herself. There was no way I could have deserted her."
Kelly was oddly and unexpectedly touched. Again, like father like son. Woody couldn't bring himself to leave Ginger just as Logan refused to reveal his mother's involvement in his disappearance.
Logan's father seemed a great deal more compassionate than she had anticipated. Raising the twins as his own was unexpected. What kind of person was he?
Woody walked back to the sofa and sat down. "It wasn't an ideal marriage, but it helped me politically. I had my sights set on the United States Senate. That's when I met Amanda McCord."
Kelly already despised Logan's mother for the way she'd treated him as a child. Still, she couldn't help being curious about the woman.
"Amanda had something special about her. She had a combination of wit and intelligence."
Kelly wondered how father and son could have such different impressions of the same woman. Who knew? Maybe her pregnancy and life in the camp had changed Amanda McCord for the worse.
"I persuaded Ginger to adopt Logan. He was a cute little kid, but I didn't have much time for him."
How could a father not have time for his own son? "Logan had too many accidents to be a coincidence." Kelly could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Were you aware that someone was abusing him?"
"No, not at first. I thought Luz was a bit hyper, that's all. But when he fell down the ravine and vanished. Well, I figured it out. Native Americans are terrible liars. I realized that Luz and Jim Cree knew where Logan was, but they denied it. I assumed they had taken Logan back to his mother."
The bite-like taste of utter disgust rose up from her throat. "You never bothered to check to see if he was all right?"
"Don't be too hard on me, Kelly. I thought Amanda would contact me again—for more money. When she didn't, I tried to find them, but I couldn't." His brows drew together in a self-deprecating frown. "Over the years, I wondered and worried."
She refused to feel sorry for Woody. If he'd behaved differently, Logan would not have been subjected to the horrors of that camp, never knowing love.
"Did you know Alyx and Tyler pushed him into the ravine?"
Despite usual self-composure, Woody's jaw dropped. "Logan told you that?"
"No. Logan doesn't—didn't—remember the incident. But when Luz and Jim found him, Logan told them he had been pushed. He didn't see which of the twins did it."
"By, God, why didn't Luz tell me?"
"She had come to you before, but you ignored her warnings. You didn't give her any reason to believe things would change."
"I can assure you I would have taken care of the matter." He thought for a moment, then added, "Ginger and Benson must have known something. They lost too much time before calling me."
"This just now occurred to you? It didn't seem strange then?"
"No. From the moment Ginger discovered Logan was my son, she was terrified people would discover the truth. She believed media attention would destroy my career, and we would be forced to leave Washington. At the time, I thought Ginger and Benson wanted to find Logan without calling the authorities to keep the situation quiet. Now, I wonder."
"It's a little late to be realizing this," Kelly snapped. "I don't know why you put up with the lot of them."
"Life in Washington was difficult. Having twins live with me as well as Ginger and Benson made it easier. Political functions and endless parties become boring. I could always send a pair of them in my place.
"They allowed me to concentrate on other issues. I suppose it appears odd to outsiders, but Benson has lived with us for years, just the way the twins have. I can't imagine life without them."
Kelly was convinced they were worthless. It was impossible to conceive of Logan hanging around, attending parties. Letting his father support him.
"Excuse me, Kelly," Uma said from the doorway. "There's some dude on the phone. He says it's important."
Kelly hesitated a second, hoping Woody would volunteer to leave, but he showed no sign of departing. In a way, she didn't mind. He reminded her so much of Logan that it didn't seem as if he were gone forever when she looked at his father and saw Logan's face.
She excused herself and picked up the telephone in the kitchen. It was Philip.
"Logan was right," he told her. "Brucine did kill Suzanne Stanfield. Actually, if someone had really known what they were doing, they would have used less."
Kelly leaned against the counter and closed her eyes. Killers. Cold-blooded killers. Some part of her had been determined to believe that Logan's being pushed into the ravine was a childish prank that had been exploited by Ginger and Benson.
Now she knew better. Suzanne had been Tyler's wife. He must have been the one to push Logan, then years later kill his own wife. The only question remaining in Kelly's mind was who else was in on it—if anyone.
"Kelly? Kelly?"
"I'm here. I'm just in shock. Today, would a coroner be able to determine the cause of death?"
"Not without knowing to look for it. Brucine poisoning is extremely rare. I have my men working on the sales records now."
"Let me know as soon as you find out," Kelly said, then thanked him and hung up.
A prickle of unease tiptoed down her spine. Someone had seen Logan—who wanted no part of the family—as a threat. She was his widow. Could she possibly be in danger?
Part of her didn't care and welcomed the challenge to confront the coward who had caused Logan's death. Think of Rafi, cautioned an inner voice. Whoever had planted the drugs had killed Suzanne in a very sneaky way.
This was not an enemy that she could challenge out in the open. She might never know who was behind this unless she was very clever. And equally as devious. Woody might unknowingly give her the clues she needed to solve the puzzle.
She returned to the living room, unsure of how to get the information out of Woody. She couldn't decide if she should ask him about Benson or Suzanne first. Woody decided for her.
"I know this seems like a long story. You asked about the love of my life. I wanted you to understand that we are very much alike. I discovered a unique, fulfilling love with Suzanne after many years and another marriage. Your situation isn't much different from mine, is it?"
His question caught her off guard. She had thought she loved Daniel, and she'd mourned for him for a long time. Yet what she had discovered with Logan had opened up an entirely new realm of feeling.
"You're right. What I feel for Logan is completely different and all consuming. I don't know what I'm going to do without him."
"I felt the same way when Suzanne died. Suddenly, life wasn't worth living. I—" His voice faltered, stark emotion evident in each syllable. Even the most jaded cynic could not doubt Woody adored Suzanne.
"I guess you know all about Suzanne," he said, regaining his composure.
"She was Tyler's wife. That's all I know. Why don't you tell me the rest?"
His intense expression reminded her so much of Logan that it was heart-wrenching. "You must think I'm a dirty old man. Suzanne was young enough to be my daughter, but her age
had nothing to do with it. She was intelligent and interested in political issues the way I was.
"At first, it was very innocent … then we realized we were in love. I examined my life very closely. Politics no longer seemed as appealing as it once had. I wanted to move back to Sedona with Suzanne and enjoy life with our children."
Kelly could not doubt his sincerity. His eyes, his face echoed the heartfelt emotion in his words.
"I knew it would cause a scandal. After all, I had harped on family values for years, yet I was divorcing my wife to marry my son's wife. I didn't hesitate, especially after we learned Suzanne was pregnant.
"When Suzanne died of a genetic heart condition, I didn't know what to do. I hadn't yet asked Ginger for a divorce, so my life just … went on. But I have never been the same."
"Did you ever suspect Suzanne's death was not from natural causes?" Kelly ventured the question in what she hoped was a casual tone.
He shook his head dismissively. "Her parents insisted on a second autopsy, but the Phoenix coroner confirmed the original results." He studied her a moment in the intent way that Logan so often used. "Why?"
"I have information that confirms Suzanne was poisoned."
"That's ridiculous! Neither coroner reported any evidence of poison," Woody shot back, but she saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
She explained brucine wasn't easy to spot even today and led Woody to believe that Logan had used his sources to obtain the information before they went to Venezuela. She did not want Woody to know Philip was involved.
The stricken expression that came over Woody's face alarmed her. A purple vein beat wildly along the side of his throat. He sagged back, suddenly breathing heavily as if he'd finished a long race.
"Why? Why? Why?" he muttered over and over, still gazing up as if the hand-hewn beams had the answer. He finally looked at Kelly, his voice becoming stronger. "Suzanne was an angel. She never did a thing to anyone."
"Did anyone know you planned to divorce Ginger and marry Suzanne?"
"No. It was our secret. We told her parents, of course, but they were the only ones who knew."
