by Burton, Mary
Adrianna felt a tightening in her throat. “So when did the baby die?”
“She was two months, nine days when I got the call from your father.”
“What happened?”
He glanced down, as his mind seemed to drift to the past. “It was the middle of the night when your father called me. He was in a panic. He’d been out at a business meeting and he came home to find your mother in the nursery rocking the baby. Your mother was singing, but he realized very quickly the baby was too still. When he touched her she was cold. He panicked and called us.”
Time stopped for Adrianna as she listened. The noise outside the office doors faded.
“My wife and I raced over to their house. It was February and cold as sin. Your father met me at the door and took me right upstairs to the nursery. Your mother was still sitting in the chair rocking the child.”
Adrianna understood how fragile her mother had always been. The loss of a baby must have tipped her into a dark place. “What had happened to the child?”
He wiped sweat from his brow. “I was finally able to coax the baby away from your mother. She was cold and blue. She’d stopped breathing. I tried to resuscitate her but she was dead. Your mother became hysterical, as if she’d finally realized what was happening. Your father tried to calm her but she was inconsolable. She snatched the baby up and held her close. Finally your father asked me to leave. He said he’d take care of everything. I said the police needed to be called.
“Your father begged me not to. This was a painful, private matter and they didn’t want the police taking their baby and autopsying her. He couldn’t bear the thought of his child being cut into.” He pressed a trembling hand to his temple. “It appeared like crib death. Your parents were my friends and I didn’t want to compound their pain.”
“So you just left it alone.”
“At first I did. But I couldn’t sleep that night. So I called your father a couple of days later. He said he was taking care of things. That afternoon my wife saw your mother with a baby.”
“Me?”
“Yes. She went up to your mother and asked who the baby was. Your mother said it was Adrianna. That she was all better now. My wife called me immediately. I went to your father and demanded to know what had happened. At first he didn’t tell me, told me to butt out. When I pushed, he told me he’d found another baby. Margaret had been desperate, ready to kill herself. So he’d gotten another baby to save her.”
“Just like that?” Bitterness burned inside her to think that one child could be substituted for another.
“I asked about the first baby. And he said not to worry. She was at peace.” He shoved out a sigh. “I told your father this was wrong. I told him I was calling the police.”
Folded hands in her lap were so tight her knuckles had turned white. “But you didn’t.”
“Your father knew some things about me. He was my attorney at the time. He said he’d expose me if I talked.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “Secrets or no, I told your father to hire help, someone to take care of you. Margaret wasn’t capable. I knew that. And I told him I’d go to the police if he didn’t hire someone.
“He said he’d already hired Estelle to take care of you. I insisted on meeting her. When I did I sensed she’d keep you safe.”
“What happened to Baby Adrianna? How did she die?”
“I don’t know. She looked fine but there was no telling without an autopsy. It was the secrecy around your adoption that set off the alarm bells. There’d have been no reason to hide a natural death.”
“Do you think my father really came home and found Baby Adrianna dead in my mom’s arms? Could Dad have hurt her?”
“I’ve had a lot of nights to think about what might have happened and I think your mother or father was sleep deprived and frazzled. I think someone snapped. Maybe the baby was shaken too hard.”
“Where is she buried?”
“Your father never would tell me. He was afraid I’d really do that autopsy. But I don’t think he did anything formal.”
“He just put her in the ground somewhere?”
“I don’t think he would have put her just anywhere. He adored her. Her death was painful for him. He was never the same.”
“Maybe that explains why he always kept his distance from me. Why Estelle was my primary caregiver until I was in middle school.”
Adrianna’s father had never hugged her, told her he loved her. He had been a distant, quiet man who rarely spoke to her. All those years she’d tried to get him to love her. All these years she’d thought it had been her fault. All those years of trying to be perfect so he would toss her a kind word.
And none of it had been her fault.
“That reporter won’t leave me alone.” Fred Minor’s voice blared through Gage’s phone.
Phone to ear, Gage crossed the parking lot of police headquarters. Vega was at his side. “Did he say how he found out that Rhonda was one of the victims?”
“No. But he’s running with a story tonight about her affair with Craig.”
“You did the right thing by not talking to him. I promise you, we’re working on it.”
Minor was silent for a moment. “This is killing me. I’m trying to plan a funeral and I can’t even get the medical examiner to release the body. Now the whole city is going to think Rhonda was trash.”
“She wasn’t trash.” Gage gripped the phone. “Give me just a little more time, Mr. Minor. We’re working on this, I promise you.”
“Fine.”
“Fred, I didn’t realize you visited Craig in the nursing home.”
“Yeah, I did. I wanted the son of a bitch to know I hadn’t forgotten.”
“You were there the day he died.”
“I was.” There was no hint of apology in his words.
“Did you kill him?”
Fred laughed. “I thought about it. But when I left him he was alive. And as it turns out Mother Nature did the job.”
Gage wasn’t so sure it was Mother Nature. But instinct told him Fred hadn’t killed Craig. “We’re gonna talk more about this, Fred.”
“Sure. I got nothing to hide.”
Gage hung up and he and Vega entered headquarters and made their way to the first-floor forensics section.
“What’s going on?” Vega said.
“Someone is talking to Brett. He has Rhonda’s identity.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
At Tess’s request, Gage and Vega arrived at the forensics lab. She had an update on the forensics evidence linked to all three victims.
In the center of the room stood a large galvanized table where Tess had laid out crime scene pictures of all three victims as well as shots taken when they were alive.
Gage slid his hands in his pockets as he stared at the women’s faces. “What do you have, Tess?”
She flipped through the pages of a notebook filled with her thick, scrawled handwriting as she dug dark-rimmed glasses from the breast pocket of her shirt. Before she could start, Warwick pushed through the lab door. He was dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and tie.
“Look who’s dressed up,” Tess said.
Warwick scowled. “I’m headed to Adrianna Barrington’s auction. Kendall is meeting me here in a half hour. I won’t be gone more than a few hours.”
Gage had almost forgotten about the auction. “Tess was just about to start.”
All gazes shifted to Tess.
“Same gun killed Tammy Borden and Kelly Jo Morgan,” she said. “As you know, we never found the bullet that killed Rhonda Minor.”
“What about the tire tracks?” Gage said.
“I pulled five different sets. All from large vehicles. Trucks. Which isn’t surprising near a landfill. I’m working on makes and models but it’ll take some time. I also found trace evidence on Tammy Borden’s body, including blue cotton fibers, which I’m guessing came from the blanket the killer wrapped around her body.”
“I als
o spoke to C.C.,” Gage said. “She spoke to Tammy’s mother today. The mother received a postcard a few days ago. It was from Tammy. She told her mother she was moving to Tucson.”
“Why send the postcard and then do such a sloppy job of dumping the body?” Tess said.
Gage shook his head. “Maybe he wants us to know about his handiwork. He’s gotten a lot of attention from the police and now the media is involved.”
Warwick frowned. “Not good.”
“He’s more dangerous now than ever,” Gage said.
Warwick muttered an oath. “Any curiosity seekers at the gravesite? One could be him.”
“I’ve put extra patrol cars out there to question anyone who shows up.”
“Tess, what about the bandana?” Vega said.
“It’s got stains on it, likely sweat and maybe blood. I’m running DNA but those results will take time.” She glanced at her notes. “I also found a few blond hair fibers on Borden’s body. The hair is human but has no traces of a root, which leads me to believe they’re from a wig.”
“So he likes blondes,” Vega said. “The killer is playing out a fantasy?”
“That’s my guess,” Warwick said.
Gage’s unease grew by the minute as he pictured Adrianna Barrington’s long blond hair. “Adrianna Barrington has received odd calls. Caller said he was Craig and that he loved her. She brushed it off and said it was someone who didn’t want the land sale to go through. I traced the call to a disposable phone. She also said she received an anniversary card and it was signed ‘Craig.’ And someone delivered flowers to her.”
“Did you see the card?” Warwick said.
Gage shook his head. “No.”
“Did Thornton have any family or friends who’d be very loyal to him?”
“No siblings. Parents are dead. As for Adrianna, her mother is alive but the woman doesn’t appear to be in any kind of shape to hurt anyone.”
Warwick frowned. “I’m not so sure. She and her lawyer provided enough evidence regarding the death of her first child to prevent charges from being filed, but I am not entirely convinced they weren’t hiding something.”
Gage tapped his index finger on his belt. “Are you saying she’s not as sick as she pretends to be?”
Warwick shook his head. “I’ve no doubt she’s ill. But sick doesn’t mean stupid and it doesn’t mean they can’t act.”
“Is Mrs. Barrington going to be at the auction?” Gage said.
Warwick shook his head. “Not according to Kendall.”
“Vega and I could swing by and have a chat with her at her home.”
Warwick nodded. “Why not?”
Gage and Vega arrived at Margaret Barrington’s house an hour later. Without thinking, Gage adjusted his tie before he rang the bell.
Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and seconds later it snapped open. Estelle stood in the entryway, her face the hard mask of a defender.
She dried her hands with a blue and white kitchen towel. “What can I do for you two?”
“I’d like to talk to Mrs. Barrington,” Gage said.
“She’s dozing right now.”
“This is about Adrianna.”
Worry knitted Estelle’s brow. “Everything all right with my baby?”
“For now. But I have questions that need answering.”
Estelle considered what he said for a few more seconds and then nodded. “Come on in. I’ll wake her up.”
They followed her up the stairs to the older woman’s room and Estelle knocked. After a pause, Estelle cracked the door and peeked in before facing Gage. “She’s decent and watching TV.”
“You’re not going to warn her that we’re here?” Vega said.
Estelle shook her head. “Won’t hurt to shake her up a little. You might learn something if she’s off guard.”
Gage nodded. “Thanks.”
Estelle frowned. “You take care of my baby, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Estelle pushed open the door, then turned and walked away.
“Mrs. Barrington?” Gage said.
Margaret started and turned from the television. She looked at Gage, her eyes wide with surprise before narrowing. “What do you want, Detective?”
There was steel under the veil. “I want to talk to you about Adrianna.”
She sat straighter and adjusted her shawl. “Why? Is something wrong with her?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Then what?”
Gage and Vega moved into the room. She didn’t ask them to sit, so both stood.
“You were very close to Craig and the Thornton family, weren’t you?” Gage asked.
“Yes. I went to college with Frances. We were best friends. She married Robert right after college. I introduced them.”
“Did you see much of them in the early days of their marriage?”
“Not so much. I moved to New York. I wanted to be an artist. I met my husband Carter during a Christmas break at home. We married a few days before my thirtieth birthday.”
“The Thorntons were married about ten years before Craig was born.”
“Yes. Margaret often wrote me of their struggles to have a baby. It was a miracle she ever got pregnant.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Robert had a terrible case of the measles as a child.” She picked at the fringe of her shawl. “I was there when she found out she was finally pregnant and there when Craig was born. I watched him grow up.”
“When was Adrianna born?”
Her brow wrinkled. “Four years after Carter and I married. She was three years younger than Craig.”
He squatted so that he wouldn’t tower over her. “And Frances was there for you when Adrianna was born?”
Margaret’s face glowed with happiness. “Yes. We used to dream of Craig marrying Adrianna and of our families being joined.”
“Sounds like you looked out for each other.”
“We did.”
“You ever hear of Kelly Jo Morgan?”
She frowned. “No.”
“She dated Craig the summer he and Adrianna were apart. She wanted to marry Craig. Said she was pregnant with his child.”
Margaret shook her head. “He wouldn’t have married her.”
“Kelly Jo was willing to raise Cain if he didn’t.”
“Frances would never have allowed it. And Craig wanted Adrianna back.”
“And we both know you knew Rhonda Minor.”
“Yes. Why are you asking all these questions?”
“Both those women were murdered, Mrs. Barrington. Seems whoever killed them was either protecting Craig or maybe protecting Adrianna. I thought Craig might have been the killer, but I know now I was wrong.”
“How do you know that?”
“Another woman has died. Another woman who hurt Craig and Adrianna.” Gage decided to take a gamble. “Tammy Borden, the drunk driver that slammed into Adrianna and Craig’s car, was found dead.”
Mrs. Barrington fiddled with the fringe on her shawl. “I remember her from the trial.”
He took another risk. “I’m starting to think that maybe Adrianna might have had a hand in those murders.”
Mrs. Barrington laughed. “She did not kill those women.”
“How can you be so sure? She had good reason to kill them all.”
“She wouldn’t have killed to keep Craig.”
“Why?”
She let out a long sigh. “I don’t think she ever really wanted Craig. Frances and I talked her into returning to him. We pushed hard. She was young and feeling guilty about leaving him in the first place. Their reconciliation wouldn’t have lasted if not for the baby. I could tell the day she married she was conflicted.”
Gage didn’t speak as he threaded trembling hands together. Resentment churned as he thought about the effect this woman had had on his life. Who knew what would have happened to his relationship with Adrianna if not for her interference?
&nbs
p; “She wanted you.”
His head snapped up. Resentment burned like hot coals in the pit of his stomach. “Would you have killed to protect Adrianna?”
“Yes. Yes, I would have. But I didn’t kill those women.”
“Who would want to protect her like that?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“You best think hard, Mrs. Barrington, because I think whoever is doing this just might turn on her.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Friday, October 6, 7:00 p.m.
Adrianna had called Cary before she’d arrived at the hotel to make sure the press weren’t waiting. There’d been a few reporters but hotel security had escorted them off the property. Adrianna had parked in the deck and come up the service entrance to the ballroom.
The setup for the auction was complete. The main exhibit hall had been draped in black. The paintings were placed around the room, suspended from wires that hooked into bolts on the ceiling.
Adrianna had chosen a silk black halter dress that clung to her frame. She’d selected a white choker pearl necklace and wore four-inch stilettos. She would tower over most. Good. Better for coaxing people to buy.
The crowds had yet to arrive, but auction staff was humming round rechecking each picture moved in by Wells Moving, stacking programs, and making sure everything was in its place. The auctioneer was warming up his voice.
She checked her watch. The doors would open in five minutes.
Three years ago, almost to the day, she’d stood in this same room. It had been packed full of people, some she knew, and most she didn’t. The wedding planner hired by her mother had run the show, dictating every move she’d made. And she’d let her because she’d been overwhelmed. The day had been a blur.
This night would be different. She was in charge. This was her vision. She spotted Cary and moved across the room to her. “It all looks wonderful.”
Cary’s full belly pressed against the folds of her dark maternity dress. “Simple. Elegant. Just as you requested. The bidding starts at eight?”
“Correct. That’ll give time for our guests to mill before they come in here ready to buy.”
Cary pressed her hand to her belly. “Oooh.”
