Back on Blossom Street

by Debbie Macomber

  “In other words, knitting puts you to sleep,” Maverick teased.

  Alix laughed and hugged them both.

  At closing time, the party broke up and people started drifting away. Bethanne had to leave early because of an “appointment” I was willing to bet she was going out on a date, but I didn’t question her. I knew she’d met someone, and I was eager to hear the details. I could’ve asked Annie, who’d stayed to clear away the decorations, but I figured Bethanne would tell me when she was ready. I could wait.

  At one point I saw Margaret talking intently to Alix and wondered what that was about. My sister didn’t look happy, nor did she seem to be congratulating Alix on her marriage. A while later, Alix moved off to visit with someone else. Then, before I knew it, Margaret had left for the day without even a word of farewell.

  Colette and Susannah had to get back to the store to work on the arrangements for a funeral home, which was a new account Susannah had recently won.

  Elise and Maverick didn’t last long after the gifts had been opened and the food served. I walked them to the car, which Elise drove. I could see the sadness in her eyes and felt an almost maternal urge to comfort her. These next few months were going to be difficult. Maverick, however, didn’t show any concern for himself.

  I understood that, too. He’d received far more love and care in these last few years of his life than he’d ever dared to hope. I knew he was as content and happy as possible, happier than he’d been in all the years he was a champion poker player. He’d been a fairy godfather to us all and we loved him deeply, each and every one of us.

  When I returned to the store, the only person left was Alix.

  “I phoned Jordan,” she said as she gathered up her gifts. “He’s going to come by in a few minutes to drive me home.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  Alix helped me clean up and I saw her glance my way a couple of times.

  “Were you surprised?” I asked as I dumped paper plates in the garbage.

  “Totally.” She looked up at me, her eyes shining. “It was wonderful, Lydia. Thank you so much!”

  “We were happy to do it for you, Alix,” I murmured, moved by the fervency of her response.

  “Did you see me talking to Margaret?” Alix asked a few minutes later as she wrapped the leftover croissants in a plastic bag.

  I nodded. Naturally, I was curious and hoped Alix would elaborate. Margaret shared so little with me these days.

  “Margaret came to me,” Alix began. “She asked if we could talk privately.” Alix frowned, presumably at whatever Margaret had said. “I told her I’d talk to her, but it’d have to wait until after the shower. I couldn’t very well leave everyone,” she said.

  I agreed, and couldn’t figure out what my sister had to say that was so confidential.

  “When the party was winding down, she pulled me into a corner,” Alix went on. “It was about what happened to Julia. I thought things were sort of back to normal, but I guess not.”

  “I don’t know if you heard or not,” I told her, “but the police felt they were close to an arrest. Then the prosecutor decided they didn’t have enough evidence to charge him.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said. And why she asked…”

  “Asked what?” I had the feeling I wasn’t going to like this.

  “Margaret wanted me to…help her.”

  “How?”

  “She thinks I might have a contact.” Alix’s eyes didn’t meet mine. “Apparently, Margaret thinks I might know someone who’d be willing to hurt Danny Chesterfield.”

  Despite my effort to remain calm, I gasped and brought my hand to my mouth.

  “She didn’t want him killed or anything,” Alix rushed to explain. “She wants him hurt. Badly. At least one broken bone—his right arm’s what she suggested, but if the leg was easier, she’d settle for that.”

  I hardly knew how to respond other than with absolute horror. My sister was prepared to go to any lengths to see that Danny Chesterfield was punished for his crime.

  “She said she was willing to pay, and she wanted to be sure that whoever I found let Danny know this was payback for what he’d done to Julia.”

  Reaching for the back of a chair, I yanked it out and sat down. I felt as if my legs would no longer hold me upright. Never in all my life had I believed my sister capable of such an action.

  “She wasn’t very pleased with me,” Alix said.

  “You told her you wouldn’t do it, didn’t you?”

  “Of course! What do you think I am?” She paused, giving me a wry smile. “I might’ve considered doing it as a favor three or four years ago, but I don’t do things like that anymore.”

  I couldn’t speak. I simply couldn’t speak. I vacillated between pity and anger. I considered having Brad contact Matt, since they got along well and I figured my brother-in-law would know how to handle the situation. Or should I talk to Matt myself?

  “She didn’t like what I had to say,” Alix continued. “I told her that hurting Danny, breaking his leg or anything else, wouldn’t fix the way she felt.”

  No, Margaret wouldn’t like hearing that.

  “I said Danny Chesterfield was a despicable human being who deserved to be in prison. I told her I thought it was only a matter of time before he ended up there. If not for what he did to Julia, then for some other crime. It’s a shame someone else has to suffer—I feel bad about that.”

  Alix wasn’t the only one. Margaret had ranted about it for days until I thought I’d scream.

  “Hard as it is, I suggested she try to forgive the creep,” Alix said. “It’s what I had to do with my mother. For a long time I was angry with her for not being the kind of mother I needed. Her addictions to drugs and alcohol made my childhood…difficult. I mean, I know she was a product of her own weakness and her own background. But her problems could weigh me down for the rest of my life if I let them.” Alix’s face brightened with the intensity of her feelings. “Instead of letting that happen, I followed Jordan’s advice and…forgave her.”

  My admiration for Alix, already high, rose about a thousand percent. I wanted to tell her that, but the lump in my throat prevented me from speaking.

  “About two years ago I wrote her a letter,” Alix told me. “Jordan helped me with it.”

  “What did you say?”

  Alix shrugged. “Not much really. Just that I supposed she did the best she knew how and that I forgave her.”

  “How did she respond?” It wasn’t any of my business but I was understandably curious.

  “She didn’t,” Alix told me with a tinge of sadness. “I didn’t hear from her for about six months, and then she wrote and said that since I got religion I probably wouldn’t be any good to her.” Her eyes glazed over for a moment.

  “Did you tell my sister any of this?” I asked.

  “I tried, but…” Alix shook her head. “Margaret wasn’t in the mood to hear it.”

  That figured. Once again I wondered what—if anything—I could do to help my sister. And once again, no real solution presented itself.

  CHAPTER 32

  Colette Blake

  Christian had left for China a week ago. Colette could only speculate on his business there. During her years as his assistant, she’d booked any number of flights for him and knew he frequently traveled to Asian countries, particularly China. The thought of him dealing in human cargo turned her stomach. How long had it been going on, she wondered. And the question she asked over and over: Why? Still, she had difficulty equating the man she knew and loved—yes, loved—the man whose child she carried, with a man who’d do something so criminal. And beyond criminal, so cynically cruel.

  Regardless, and in the face of her dangerous knowledge, Colette waited patiently for word from him. He hadn’t said exactly how long he’d be away. His trips lasted anywhere from one to three weeks, and more often than not, he experienced delays, but she expected to hear from him soon. Now that she’d made the decisi
on to tell him about the baby, the news burned within her.

  For the first time since she’d left Dempsey Imports, she felt a real sense of hope. The thing about hope, she discovered, was that it was like a powerful painkilling drug. Despite her fears, her mood remained optimistic. Even the weather cooperated, and the days were bright with sunshine.

  Fridays were usually busy at Susannah’s Garden and this particular Friday was no exception. All morning, Colette was occupied with walk-ins, who were quickly becoming twenty to thirty percent of their business.

  One of the local high schools was having their Junior/Senior prom that evening. Susannah and Chrissie spent the afternoon assembling boutonnieres and corsages as fast as they could in their crowded workspace.

  Colette admired the way Susannah constantly came up with inventive ideas to make her little shop known in the area. If that meant offering a large floral arrangement as a raffle gift to one of the service organizations, then she did so willingly. She visited hospitals, wedding planners and funeral homes and outlined her services. Business continued to flow into the shop at an increasing rate. Some days the two of them could barely keep up; more and more often, Chrissie was coming by after her classes to help out.

  Colette appreciated her assistance and calm, cheerful demeanor, but what impressed her most was Chrissie’s devotion to her grandma Leary, who lived in eastern Washington. Every two or three days Chrissie made a point of phoning her grandmother. Colette knew Susannah was close to her mother, too, and called her often. Fortunately, she had a good friend who kept in touch with Mrs. Leary and reported back.

  The phone rang and Susannah answered it. She glanced at Colette, and thinking it might be a private conversation, Colette walked outside to check on the flowers in their buckets. She rearranged them, adding irises to the lilies to create an appealing array of colors.

  After several minutes she returned to find that Susannah was still on the phone. She removed it from her ear, held her hand over the receiver and said, “Actually, this is for you.”

  “Me?” Colette’s first thought was that it must be Christian, although she recognized that this was more hope than expectation. She couldn’t understand why Susannah would be talking for so long with someone who’d asked to speak to her. She hurried over and Susannah passed her the phone.

  “This is Colette Blake,” she said in her most professional voice.

  She heard a sob and then in crisp tones, “Colette, it’s Elizabeth Sasser.”

  Alarm filled her instantly. “Elizabeth, is everything all right?”

  “No, my dear, I’m afraid…it isn’t.” Her words faltered, and Colette could tell that Christian’s aunt was struggling to keep her composure.

  “Is it…Christian?”

  “I’m afraid I have bad news.” The old woman paused, then exhaled sharply. “When it’s convenient, would you mind stopping by the house?”

  “Of course.” Colette’s pulse hammered violently. Bad news? Something had happened to Christian; that was the only thing it could be. All her fears came together at once and for a moment she felt as if she might throw up.

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered. Almost in afterthought, she added, “Come as soon as you can.”

  The line was disconnected before Colette could question her further.

  Slowly she replaced the receiver. Susannah came to stand next to her and slipped an arm around Colette’s shoulders.

  “Did she tell you what happened?” Colette asked her, needing to know, no matter how bad the news.

  “No. She couldn’t. She was so upset, the housekeeper had to talk to me. But she was pretty distraught, too, and I had trouble understanding her.”

  “Doris,” Colette said. “Her name is Doris.”

  Susannah nodded. “Doris explained that Elizabeth received a phone call about half an hour ago and that she’d nearly collapsed.”

  “He’s dead.” It was the same feeling Colette had experienced when she’d followed the aid car to the hospital after Derek’s fall.

  “Colette, there’s no need to believe the worst.” Susannah gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Do you want Chrissie or me to drive you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.” She was surprisingly calm, but then she had been after Derek’s accident, too. The initial rush of panic had subsided and in its place had come this numb sensation, this chilling certainty. “I don’t mean to leave you in the lurch,” she told her employer.

  “Go, don’t worry. Chrissie will be here in an hour and in the meantime I have everything under control.”

  Not feeling any need to rush, Colette washed her hands, collected her purse, then walked to the alley where she kept her car. The numbness started to fade, and she felt a tightness instead, gripping her chest. If she’d been older, she might have feared that this pain signaled the beginning of a heart attack. But she knew it wasn’t that. This was what loss felt like.

  The identical sensation had accompanied the E.R. physician’s words when he’d led Colette into a private office and told her there was nothing left to do but wait for death. Derek would never recover from his coma, he’d said. Nothing could change that outcome.

  Even in the heavy Friday-afternoon traffic, Colette didn’t lose her composure. Because Christian would still be dead, whether she got to Elizabeth’s house in ten minutes or in forty.

  When she arrived at the old woman’s picturesque home, she carefully parked the car. In that instant her grief felt too much to bear and she pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and silently prayed for strength.

  She loved Christian. If she’d ever doubted it before, there was no question now. He would never know. Never learn the truth. Never hold their baby. She’d have to accept that the same way she’d accepted everything else in the last two years.

  Drawing a deep breath, Colette climbed out of her car. She’d barely rung the bell when Doris flung open the massive door, and with red-rimmed eyes, led Colette into the library.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Doris told her, wringing a white handkerchief between her hands. “Miss Elizabeth needs you.”

  Colette entered the library and sat down on the ottoman at the older woman’s feet. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked softly.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No one knows. Christian is missing, lost somewhere inside China. No one’s seen him.” She swallowed hard. “For the past week, no one’s heard from him. A whole week.”

  “He got on the plane in Seattle, correct?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “According to the airline, Christian landed in Beijing. That’s where the trail stops. As far as his office is aware, he was scheduled to change to a connecting plane there, but he never arrived in the other city. I’ve forgotten its name,” she added fretfully.

  “How did you hear about this?” she asked.

  “My nephew Elliott phoned. Christian’s father. Someone at Dempsey Imports called him. He phoned me right afterward.”

  “What’s being done to find him?” Colette asked, her mind darting in several different directions. Surely there were ways of locating someone inside a foreign country.

  “Elliott asked if anyone had contacted the U.S. embassy, and apparently that’s been done. The hospitals have all been checked, jails, hotels. Other places, as well. Nothing.”

  “Do you know the name of the person your nephew talked to at Dempsey Imports?” Colette hated to be drilling some poor staffer, but she needed as many facts as she could get.

  “I…don’t.”

  “Do you mind if I use your phone?”

  “Of course not. Anything. I just have to know Christian’s alive.”

  It’d been almost five months since Colette had talked to anyone at Dempsey Imports. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to avoid contact with her former friends. But none of that mattered now.

  Elizabeth pointed to the hallway. “There’s a phone in there.” For the first time the old woman’s expression was hopeful, as if Colet
te might discover something no one else had.

  Colette found the phone and turned on the hallway light. She didn’t need to look up the number or the extension. Even after all these months, it was still as familiar as her own.

  Two short rings. “Jenny Hilton.”

  “Jenny, it’s Colette Blake.”

  “Colette! Oh, my goodness, Colette!” Jenny exploded with surprise. “What happened? It’s like you disappeared off the face of the earth. Everyone’s been asking about you and I didn’t know what to tell them.”

  “I got another job,” Colette said. She wanted to keep explanations to a minimum.

  “Oh, my goodness, have you heard about Mr. Dempsey?”

  Before Colette could respond, Jenny continued. “He’s somewhere in China. At least that’s what we think—no one knows for sure. It’s all kind of crazy around here at the moment.”

  “I heard,” Colette said, hoping for more information. “What can you tell me?”

  “Not much,” murmured Jenny. “His assistant’s been on the phone for three solid days. Apparently Mr. Dempsey’s father is flying to China to start a private search. From what I understand, Mr. Dempsey was making one of his routine trips to Zhongshan, the same one he’s made at least a dozen times.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Just that no one’s heard from him, either here or in China. Most of the time it’s perfectly safe for tourists there… But the strange part is that he was supposed to visit the manufacturer in Zhongshan and they had no record of him coming.”

  “They weren’t expecting him, then?” she asked in confusion.

  “Right. But we thought that’s where he was. Anyway, Mr. Dempsey’s father checked into his flight plans and discovered he landed in Beijing but had never made a reservation to continue on to Zhongshan.”