“What makes you think I don’t like children?” A breeze had sprung up and Emmy had to sweep strands of her silvery-blond hair away from her eyes in order to see Gwyn.
“I wasn’t being judgmental, Emmy. But it wasn’t my imagination that you stiffened up when I introduced Alanna.”
Emmy realized she probably had stiffened up. It was a major shock hearing Riley lived next door. That didn’t mean she cared to tell Gwyn Louis every detail involving her history with Riley Gray Wolf. Indeed, the good memories might have existed only in Emmy’s imagination, so the less she said about him the better. Still, knowing how rumors swept through Uncertain, Emmy hated to leave Gwyn with the impression that she didn’t like Riley’s daughter. “I’ve never really known any kids. I spent the last five years on a floating casino dealing blackjack during the witching hours,” she explained. “Otherwise, my experience with children is limited to those I met briefly when I toured with the circus. She seems a darling girl.”
“A blackjack dealer and circus performer? Quite a mix of talents. I definitely want to hear more at our next visit. Call me nosy, but . . . when you raised your arm a minute ago, the neck of your blouse drooped. Well, there’s no way except to ask straight out. Is that a real tattoo you have . . . there?” Gwyn’s lips twitched as she brushed a forefinger along the upper edge of her own breast to indicate where she meant.
Emmy rolled her eyes, then laughed. “It’s real. Please don’t tell Jed.”
“Why not? To borrow a phrase from Alanna, it’s cool! Goodness, I really have to run.” Gwyn checked a serviceable watch that was at odds with the rings she wore. Emmy accompanied her as she hurried to the Rover and climbed in. Before closing her door, she impulsively reached out and squeezed Emmy’s hand. “I can’t wait to tell Jed who’s going to be living in his rental. He’ll be so happy.” Her expression grew bleak for a moment. “I’m afraid happiness is something he’s lacked for too long. He still feels he has something to prove to the residents of Uncertain, if not the world. I’m counting on you to help me show him how to have more fun, Emmy. It’ll be good for all of us to have family around.” She nodded. “That’s what you are—his family. And now, mine, too.”
Emmy said little. She pulled her hand away and shut Gwyn’s door. Staring after the rumbling vehicle as Gwyn backed down the lane, Emmy felt the tic beginning under her right eye. For years she’d been plagued with a jumpy nerve. It came whenever tension built. As pleasant as Jed’s wife seemed, Emmy couldn’t buy into the bubbly prediction that the three of them would be a family. The spiraling sense of letdown clutching at her stomach was something she’d had to contend with ever since Social Services dragged her away from here. Jed, at least, had roots. She’d never really belonged anywhere.
As Emmy hauled the first box of her things into a house filled with ghosts, she renewed an earlier vow to initiate a search for her birth parents.
No sooner had the thought struck her than a tan-and-white county police car roared off the main road and came to a halt behind her pickup. The very presence of a police vehicle in this particular drive set Emmy’s nerves roiling.
Hoping she gave an appearance of unconcern, she stacked boxes on her pickup’s tailgate. She manhandled three into the house, recognizing an older Sheriff Fielder as he and a deputy climbed from the car. In spite of knowing she’d done nothing wrong and had nothing to hide, Emmy’s heart sped up. Sweat broke out on her upper lip and her palms.
The leathery-faced sheriff hitched his pants up lean hips and closed a gnarled hand over a holstered service revolver. His scowl hadn’t changed, Emmy thought, but his face had grown craggier. He didn’t wear a hat today, and she saw that his brown hair was now liberally streaked with silver.
“Moving in or out?” the deputy asked inanely.
Emmy supposed she shouldn’t smart off under the circumstance, but she wasn’t known to suffer fools lightly. “Given the efficiency of the rumor mill in this town, I think you already know the answer to that question.”
She bit her lip. Darn, but Fielder had always had the ability to make her feel guilty just by staring at her from faintly accusing eyes. Maturity hadn’t changed that reaction, either. Emmy’s knees knocked inside her jeans.
“Are you the Emerald Monday who lived here with Frannie Granger?” Fielder asked in a gruff voice.
“Yes.” She found her mouth too dry to expand on that.
“My daddy always said bad pennies have a way of turning up again. You’ve been gone a good piece, little lady. What brings you back now?”
“I’m not a little lady, Sheriff. I’m full grown. Thirty-two if Fran got my birthdate correct. That’s one reason I’m here.” She glanced toward the house. “I read a news article that said you’d found my foster mother’s body. I’d hoped while you’re investigating who killed her, some clue might turn up as to who I was . . . uh . . . who I am.
The sheriff gave her his famous blank stare. “So that’s your story? Seems odd you’d suddenly get an urge to know at thirty-two. Why not when you came of age?”
Emmy crossed her arms and leaned a shoulder negligently against the door casing. She hadn’t invited her surprise guests inside, nor would she unless they insisted. “At eighteen I worked two jobs to keep from starving. Finding the person or persons who dumped me at Monday Trade Days ranked sort of low on my list of priorities.”
“Humph.” The sheriff feigned interest in a notebook he’d pulled from his shirt pocket. “Where you been living?”
Emmy thought about telling him to find out himself if he was such a hotshot investigator. She discarded that idea almost as quickly as it had come. “Shreveport,” she said. “I worked in a casino owned and operated by Richard Parrish. He’s easy to find if you’d like to check that out.”
“Don’t think I won’t, missy.” He grunted. “Can’t say I’m glad to see you. Trouble had a way of following you, Louis, Gray Wolf and that McClain kid. I suppose he’ll show up next.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been in contact with my foster siblings since I left town. If you’ve got no other questions . . .” Emmy made a point of checking her watch before brushing past the sheriff to drag another box from the bed of her pickup.
“Where were you the day Frannie Granger vanished?”
Emmy felt her slippery, sweaty fingers lose their grip on the box. Carefully, she tightened her hold. “When she left for work, I was heading out the front door to meet my school bus. I think you know Jed called all over town that night when she failed to come home. I was terrified. We all were.”
“Why did you three go off to school the next day as if nothing was wrong?”
“Joleen Berber, Fran’s best friend, notified the police. They said we should go on about our business. It was you. You said it.”
“On day two, Jed managed to attend his classes, yet he was truant the day before.”
“I don’t know about that. We attended different schools.”
“It says here you were thirteen. Old enough, I’d think, to ask why the woman who’d served as your mother would just up and run off.”
“Oh, I asked all right. I asked the social worker who yanked me out of class because you reported us. She brought me here and packed my things. I cried. I begged. I demanded to know what was going on. I was told nothing. Zero. That’s it, Sheriff. That’s all I know. Until a week ago I didn’t even know Mom Fran never came home.” Emmy’s voice thinned at that point. She stopped speaking.
“Why did Jed wait so long to phone Joleen? Was Frannie in the habit of staying out? Did she often leave you three kids on your own to fix supper?”
Emmy opened her mouth to flatly deny the last two questions. As to the first, she was thrown painfully back to the night they’d all been so frantic, when Fran hadn’t phoned or come home. Emmy had to clear her throat twice to control her temper at Fielder. She steadied t
he box filled with her cooking spices and kitchen utensils against the porch railing. “From the tone of these questions, I think I’d prefer to have an attorney present before I answer anything else.”
Fielder slammed his black notebook shut. “Suit yourself. I suppose since you’re moving in next to Gray Wolf he’s probably advised you already. From where I sit, clamming up only makes matters worse. I will get answers.”
“Riley hasn’t advised me. Anyway, I understand his expertise is in the field of business law. I’ll ask Jed to recommend someone when I see him tonight.”
“Your unwillingness just drives another spike in Jed’s shaky defense.”
“That’s ridiculous! You can’t blame him because I want representation. Jed was plenty worried when Mom Fran didn’t come home. But he was the oldest. He had to act brave so Will and I wouldn’t fall apart. What would you have done at seventeen, Sheriff? Jed was very responsible for his age. Now, excuse me, I’m finished with this interview. I’ll phone your office tomorrow and leave the name of my lawyer.”
Sheriff Fielder shook a finger at Emmy. “Just see that you don’t take a hike. Not until I’m satisfied I have answers to every last question. Somebody killed Fran Granger in my town and I’m damn well going to find out who did it.”
“I hope you do, and I mean that sincerely.” Turning her back on the men, Emmy pushed open the screen door with her foot and carried the box into the kitchen. She didn’t realize how hard her hands were shaking until she heard Fielder’s car start and she couldn’t lift the curtain aside to watch him go.
Emmy unloaded the carton she’d brought in, thinking all the while how foolish she’d been to pull up stakes on a whim. The sheriff wasn’t going to help her find out anything about her background. He only seemed bent on pinning Fran’s murder on Jed. Did that mean Jed was in a more serious predicament than Gwyn had indicated?
“Lord,” Emmy groaned. Whatever had possessed her to treat the sheriff in such a cavalier manner? Now he thought she was hiding something. She wasn’t. And she didn’t exactly have the funds to hire an attorney.
On her return to finish unloading her pickup, Emmy was surprised to again see Riley’s daughter draped over the fence.
“Are you in trouble?” the child asked in hushed tones.
“No, honey. The sheriff stopped by to say hello.”
“He sounded mad.”
“I guess he did. But don’t you worry about it, okay?”
“My daddy helps people who got problems. I can ask him to help you.”
“No, don’t,” Emmy said harshly, grabbing for a small box that tumbled from the stack she’d gathered. “I . . . mean, don’t bother your daddy. I’m sure he has more than enough on his hands.”
“‘kay. Mrs. Yates is washing windows. She said since Miss Gwyn knows you, I can visit. I could help you unpack, Miss Emmy,” the child said in a wistful voice.
“Call me Emmy without the miss, Alanna.”
“That’s not proper, Daddy said.”
“Um.” Manners. Was it moving into this house that reminded Emmy of how hard Fran had worked to teach the three of them proprieties? At times it must have seemed a daunting task. Emmy capitulated with a smile. “By all means, tell Mrs. Yates that Miss Emmy cordially invites you to assist me with the task of moving.”
“Huh? So, can I say you want me to help you unpack?”
Emmy bobbed her head, remembering too well what it was like to be a lonely kid. “I’m only going to unpack my clothes, though. Gwyn invited me to dinner, so I have to allow enough time to shower and dress.”
“You got a pretty dress?” Alanna asked, cocking her head to one side.
“A dress?” Emmy halted on the lower step and half turned, causing her stack of boxes to wobble. She had worn uniforms of a sort at the casino. The few dresses she owned were glittery cocktail wear.
“Me’n Daddy ate there when Miss Gwyn and Mr. Jed got married. Daddy wore his best suit. He bought me a pink dress with lots of ruffles.”
Emmy heaved a sigh of relief as she set the boxes inside the house. “Weddings call for special dresses, Alanna. When you just go to someone’s house for dinner, a fancy dress isn’t necessary.”
“Oh. I like dresses. My prettiest ones are too little now.” She dropped to the ground. “Daddy told Mrs. Yates to take me to the store to buy some. She bought me overalls.” The girl gave a disgusted sigh. “Now I look like a boy.”
Emmy laughed out loud. “No one would ever mistake you for a boy, Alanna. You’re a girlie girl.”
“I am?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the noise of an approaching car. “Hey, my daddy’s home!” Alanna ran to the edge of the driveway, jumped up and down and waved madly.
Far from ready to chat over the back fence with Riley, Emmy hurried inside with the last of her boxes. She peered at him through a crack in the kitchen curtains, taking care to not be seen.
A midnight-blue Chrysler convertible slowed dramatically. When Riley parked and leaned over to open the passenger door for his daughter, Emmy saw he’d removed his suit coat and had the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up above his elbows. The man had nicely muscled arms. Emmy had always thought that. She’d been crazy about Riley’s body. There had been something about the broad set of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips; even at the age of sixteen he’d turned female heads.
Emmy let the curtain fall. She was dwelling far and away too much on the adult Riley’s body. Did he work out to keep fit? Had he grown chest hair? If he ever found out she’d eavesdropped on him and Will one evening, when the two boys were discussing Riley’s lack of chest and facial hair, she’d die of embarrassment. Jed and Will both shaved early. Riley envied them in the worst way. Emmy had felt bad for him. She’d baked his favorite peanut-butter cookies to console him, then lacked the nerve to tell him she’d spied. He’d thanked her for the treat with the half grin that always made her insides queasy. She paused in shuffling boxes to speculate whether peanut-butter cookies were still Riley’s favorite.
“Enough already,” Emmy grumbled, striding into the bedroom to sort out something to wear to Jed’s. She made every effort to blank her mind to all memories out of the past as she let hot water from the shower massage her tight neck.
After trying on and discarding several outfits, she settled on toast-brown linen pants and a buttery-yellow blouse. She clasped her hair at the nape of her neck with a broad gold clasp, and chose a gold herringbone necklace and bracelet Richard had given her for Christmas. She dug a brown cardigan out of a box. It was cashmere—in case Alanna had been right about dinner at the Louis home being dressy.
Emmy started her pickup and let it cough itself into running smoothly before she backed out of the drive. She saw someone lift a blind in Riley’s house. Had Alanna told him she’d moved in next door? Probably. The kid was a chatterbox. Emmy chuckled; people used to say the same about her. She still ran off at the mouth when she got nervous.
Ten minutes later, when she guided her old pickup through the impressive, monogrammed wrought-iron gates at the bottom of the hill leading up to Beaumarais, Emmy’s nerves were jangling. She didn’t recall the house being quite so intimidating. Maybe because, as a kid, she’d only viewed it from afar. No one liked Jed’s Uncle Walter, the old geezer who owned the property. Least of all Jed. He’d felt cast off by his mother’s brother, who referred to Jed as a bastard. Yet now, this all belonged to him.
Horses grazed contentedly in an adjacent pasture. A dog frolicked in the side yard. Lights blazed from tall, mullioned windows, and if she looked closely, she could count the many chandeliers.
Emmy’s battered pickup looked out of place in the broad circular drive. Her knees banged together as she walked to the door to face a man she hadn’t seen in almost twenty years.
Family. Jed is family. And you’re the poor
relation, a little voice whispered.
When Emmy’s tentative knock was answered by a regal-looking woman who bade her come in and have a seat in the parlor, Emmy was positive she didn’t belong. She ought to have her head examined for accepting Gwyn’s invitation.
From the parlor, Emmy could see into the dining room. Tapered candles lit a gleaming mahogany table elegantly set with crystal goblets and eggshell-white china. “Alanna was right,” Emmy muttered. This house called for a pretty dress.
Chapter Three
Her stomach was too jumpy to let her sit on the ornate peach couch or either of two spindly chairs, Emmy walked around and studied the room. She desperately hoped it would give her a clue as to the man Jed Louis had become. Under her feet was an oriental rug that picked up shades from the couch, chair cushions and heavy satin drapes. Light spilled from a gorgeous old Tiffany lamp, softening the hues. But nothing here connected with the Jed Emmy remembered. The tidiest of the three kids, Jed had gravitated toward stark black shirts and pants. His side of the bedroom, furnished sparsely as they all were, had been decorated in black and red.
Fran might have selected the curtains, but Emmy thought Jed had gone with her to Tyler to pick out his own bedspread and sheets. Will had scoffed at choosing stuff to sleep on. Will had been happy just to have a bed.
Hearing the approach of heavy footsteps, Emmy spun away from a landscape watercolor she’d been examining. Goose bumps rose on her arms. She clutched the empty arms of the sweater she’d draped around her shoulders, and tried to ward off the chill that came with the anticipation of their first meeting.
Jed strode into the room, his cocksure walk so familiar in spite of the tears distorting Emmy’s vision. Though his image had suddenly blurred, his lanky six-four frame appeared little different from the way he looked in a dog-eared photo she carried in her wallet. He was deeply tanned, and his angular features still set off his mesmerizing blue eyes.
He stepped fully into the room and gripped the hands she fluttered toward him. “Emmy.” He expelled the single word with a gust of emotion. Jed’s throat worked as his grip tightened. “You grew up fine, little sister. So very fine.” He hesitated briefly, then gathered her into a hug. “I can’t begin to tell you how I’ve missed you, Emmy-M.” His gruff voice sounded close to disintegrating as he called her by the nickname he’d chosen for her as a kid.
Uncertain Past Page 4
