Uncertain Past

by Roz Denny Fox

  “I see I’m not the only comedian in this office. Pull my file on the Ashton case, would you? Seat the agents in the conference room, and tell them I’ll be right with them. Oh, and Marge, if your caller phones back, interrupt me, okay?”

  “Sure enough, boss.” Marge snapped him a quick salute.

  Riley stepped into his office to retrieve his suit jacket. By the time he joined the two men from D.C., the call she’d brought to his attention had flown from his mind.

  Emmy answered a knock at her door. She greeted Gwyn Louis through the screen, juggling a pitcher of iced tea and a handful of lemon slices. She ended up using her elbow to release the latch.

  Gwyn was weighed down, too, with an empty cat litter box in which a cute Siamese kitten scrambled around batting a ball. She also lugged a full bag of cat litter and a sack of kitten food. “Look at us. Two obsessive-compulsives. We have to do everything at once instead of taking things one at a time.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Emmy held the screen open with a toe and motioned Gwyn in. “I’m perpetually late because I’m the biggest procrastinator in the world. We’ll have to drink this lukewarm. I got busy unpacking and just remembered to bring in the sun tea jar.” She screwed up her nose. “You get to choose whether or not you want your tepid tea with or without lemon.”

  “With, please. And isn’t that why someone invented ice cubes? For busy women who do everything at the last minute?”

  “I give up. You’re too fast with the comebacks.” The screen banged shut. Emmy and Gwyn walked into the sunny kitchen, where Gwyn deposited the box and sacks with a sigh.

  “I thought you were bringing both kittens,” Emmy said as she pulled two glasses out of the cupboard and poured the tea.

  “I intended to, but as I was loading my pickup, a woman dropped by. The family came last week to see the kittens and said no. Since then, they’d changed their minds and wanted the little female. I suspect their kids badgered them into it. Even so, I’m satisfied they’ll follow through with shots and spaying.”

  “So this is the last one? A male, you said.” Emmy set her glass on a colorful place mat and picked up the tiny fawn-colored ball. The kitten stared trustingly at Emmy out of bright blue eyes. His purr revved to a rasp that shook his scrawny frame.

  “He’s the runt of the litter. Undoubtedly why no one wanted him.”

  Emmy rubbed her cheek over the points of the soft brown ears. “Then he and I are two of a kind.” The kitten straightened, butted his head against Emmy’s shirt and meowed loudly. “He reminds me of the cats carved on Egyptian urns. Runt or not, I’m giving him a lofty name. Meet Egypt.”

  Gwyn chucked the kitten under his chin. “He’ll never make a show cat, but from the way you two are bonding, he’ll be a great pet. Uh, Emmy, I’m bothered by what you said about you and the cat being two of a kind. What makes you so positive your birth mother wanted to give you up?”

  “Did Jed fill you in on how I came to live with Frannie? I certainly didn’t walk to that booth at the Monday Trade Days. It’s a huge flea market—you’ve heard of it?” At Gwyn’s nod, she continued. “What people do at the trade days in Canton is buy, sell and trade junk.”

  “Have you ever attended one of their sales? I have, several times now. A lot of expensive antiques change hands during the meet. I’ve seen some pretty classy stuff. And well-heeled people flashing around big bucks.”

  Emmy set the kitten down to explore. She filled the litter box from the bag Gwyn had brought, then tucked it into a quiet corner opposite the pantry.

  “I guess this sudden attempt to busy your hands means you don’t want to talk about other possibilities.” Gwyn let another moment tick past before prodding again. “Have you decided whether or not to contact Riley about initiating your search?”

  Emmy washed her hands and found two plastic dishes in a box. She filled one with water and the other with kitty niblets and set both on the floor. “I did phone Riley’s office to inquire. His secretary wasn’t very informative. She asked me more questions than I asked her.”

  “That sounds like Marge. Riley acquired her with the practice. She knows everyone and everything in this town. In fact, she might remember particulars dating back to when Frannie took you in.” Gwyn looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure of Marge’s age—late sixties I’d guess, with a mind like a steel trap.”

  Emmy wandered to the table where Gwyn sat squeezing lemon into her tea. “Quite a few people in town might be able to help me if I could figure out where to start and what questions to ask.”

  Gwyn set her lemon rind on a napkin. “First and foremost, Emmy, you need to ask yourself if this is really, truly what you want to do. My friend who went through it hit brick wall after brick wall. She got plenty discouraged along the way.”

  “But she was ultimately successful?”

  “Yes,” Gwyn said carefully. “She found her birth mother.”

  Emmy pursed her lips. “Was, uh, did they get along and . . . everything?”

  Gwyn’s pause was significant. “The truth is, Emmy, some people simply don’t want to be found. My friend was terribly disappointed. She said one good thing did come of her persistence. Her attorney was able to obtain her medical history.”

  “Even that would be a big relief. You can’t imagine how hard it is not to know the most basic things other people take for granted. A certain part of your life just doesn’t exist.”

  “That would be hard to accept. I wonder why so many of us have screwed-up lives?” Gwyn gazed out the window and idly swirled the ice in her tea. “Having a family sometimes isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know.”

  “I’m sorry, Gwyn, I didn’t stop to think that your life might not have been all rosy.”

  “Compared to yours and Jed’s, mine was a piece of chocolate cake. At least on the surface. I grew up privileged. Suffice it to say that comes with its own set of problems.”

  “Ah. Poor little rich girl?”

  “I’ll have to think about it. I’m not sure that applies to me. It’s more that my privileges came with a rigid set of expectations. By refusing to live up to them, I’ve caused hard feelings and let a lot of people down.”

  Emmy would have said something sympathetic, but she was interrupted by a knock and a small voice calling, “Hello,” through the front screen.

  “It’s Alanna.” Gwyn started to get up, then sank back down. “It’s your call whether or not to invite her in. She must’ve seen my pickup and asked Mrs. Yates to let her come over.”

  Emmy sprang up. She smiled at the child, who had her nose pressed tight to the screen. “Hello yourself, Miss Gray. Does your sitter know where you are?”

  The dark head bobbed up and down. “She said I could come.” Fumbling in her pants pocket, the girl pulled out a folded note. “Our phone number. She said you should call her if I can stay, ‘cause she needs to go out for groceries.”

  Emmy opened the screen and took the note. “I should go give her my cell number. I haven’t arranged for a house phone yet. Go on into the kitchen and ask Gwyn to give you a glass of milk. I’ll run over to introduce myself to Mrs. Yates and find out what time she plans to be back.”

  Just then the kitten ran out of the kitchen, chasing a leaf Emmy recognized as part of a silk arrangement she’d taken out of a box and left sitting on the floor.

  “Oh, what a pretty kitty! I thought you didn’t have pets,” Alanna exclaimed, plopping down on the floor to gather the kitten in her arms.

  “Gwyn just brought him. His name is Egypt. Play carefully, okay?”

  “I’m always careful,” Alanna promised, gazing at Emmy out of solemn dark eyes. Something in her look reminded Emmy so much of Riley—especially when he used to try to convince her he hadn’t dated Amanda Jennings—that Emmy gave a start.

  “I’ll take your word for it
,” Emmy said, tripping on the doorjamb as she backed up. “Don’t forget Gwyn’s in the kitchen. You’re not allergic to milk or chocolate, are you?”

  “Nope, I’m not ‘lergic to anything. So can I eat lunch here?”

  “One thing at a time, young lady. First, I need to meet your sitter.”

  “She’ll say okay. ‘Cause she watches TV at lunch and she says I talk so much she can’t hear the program. But it’s boring. You don’t watch boring TV when you eat, do you?”

  “No. I don’t own a TV.” Emmy’s head swam a little from trying to keep up with Alanna’s chatter. Emmy would enjoy having Alanna stay for lunch, but the comments Riley had made at the grocery store played in her head. He’d said not to encourage his daughter’s visits, although that had been before they bumped into each other this morning and he’d suggested starting over. Still, she didn’t want to deliberately oppose him if he harbored reservations.

  “Tell you what,” she said. “Let’s not plan lunch today. I have several errands to run. Oh, that reminds me. Gwyn,” Emmy called. “There’s no phone jack in the bedroom. Is it okay if I have one installed? The only jacks are in the living room and kitchen.”

  Gwyn stepped to the door, her glass of iced tea in hand. “I always intended to ask Jed to have a phone outlet put there. There’s no need for you to foot the bill. I’ll get Jed on it today.”

  “It’s no trouble for me. The telephone office is next door to the library. Signing up for a library card is already on my list.”

  “Okay, but charge the installation fees to us. Alanna, why so glum? I happen to know Emmy has chocolate milk in the fridge.”

  “I wanna eat lunch here,” the girl answered with a pout.

  Emmy retied one of Alanna’s hair bows that had worked loose. “I know you’re disappointed. Me, too. But try to understand, honey, I already had a list of things planned.”

  Alanna nodded, although she remained downcast.

  Nevertheless, Emmy wanted to speak with Riley before she got too involved. “Alanna brought a note from Mrs. Yates. I want a word with her, Gwyn. Would you give Alanna a couple of cookies to go with her milk? There’s a brand-new bag of Oreos on top of the fridge.”

  “Oreos?” Gwyn grinned. “I knew we were soul sisters. I can make a meal out of chocolate milk and Oreo cookies.”

  Emmy knew Gwyn was trying to be funny. Yet as she crossed the property to Riley’s home, Gwyn’s statement brought Emmy’s thoughts back to her secondary reason for being here. For all she knew, Gwyn might be her biological sister. Well, no, she didn’t really believe that, but in fact it was entirely possible that she had unknown siblings living nearby. The idea sobered her. And made her wonder why she’d waited so long to start finding answers.

  She didn’t know why it hadn’t crossed her mind before. Did Fran have old records that might shed some light on her origins? Emmy didn’t have an actual birth certificate, as far as she knew. Didn’t you need one to register a child for school? Perhaps Jed would know, or maybe he’d even kept Frannie’s important papers. She’d ask him this afternoon. If there were records, she might be able to launch her own search and thus avoid making an appointment with Riley.

  Feeling better, Emmy rang his doorbell with more verve than necessary.

  A matronly woman opened the door. “Mrs. Yates?” Emmy smiled. “I’m Emmy Monday from next door. Alanna’s note says you wanted me to call, but I thought we should meet.”

  “If the girl’s a bother, send her home.”

  “Oh, she’s not . . . any bother.” Staring at the woman’s stern features, Emmy arched an eyebrow. “Alanna said you were going grocery shopping. I ran into Riley at the store last night and his shopping cart was overflowing. I . . . well, I wanted to be sure Alanna hadn’t come up with that story so I’d let her stay longer.”

  The woman’s jaw tightened visibly. “Did I tell her groceries? No. You’re quite right. Her father did stock up. It’s an appointment. For me. Sorry to have troubled you. Just send the girl home. I’ll drop her off with a friend for the hour or so I’ll be tied up.”

  “You misunderstand. I have no objection to watching her that long. Gwyn Louis just brought me a kitten. He’ll entertain Alanna for a while.”

  “I suppose that means she’ll come home with cat hair all over her. And I’ll have to get my allergy medication filled again.”

  “Oh. Well, it would be impossible to keep the two apart. If you don’t want her around the kitten, then perhaps she’d better go with you.”

  “She’d just call her dad and beg to stay with you. That one’s a willful child and her father spoils her rotten.”

  Emmy’s snap judgment of Riley’s housekeeper-sitter was that she was a bit of an ogre and probably didn’t like children much. “Please honk when you get home, and I’ll make sure Alanna gets here safely.”

  “Well, I see you’re not one to gossip over the back fence. A friend of mine said you’re a hometown girl who ran off to live in the city. What brings you back?”

  “Business,” Emmy said. Turning sharply on her heel, she retreated, wondering why Riley had hired this woman.

  Alanna and Gwyn were still seated at the kitchen table. A pile of the chocolate cookies lay before each. A third stack sat on a napkin at Emmy’s place, along with a fresh glass of tea.

  Gwyn smiled as Emmy settled in her chair and immediately broke open a cookie. She licked out the white frosted center.

  “So, now you’ve met Lucille Yates,” Gwyn murmured.

  Emmy caught herself before she gave away her true feelings. “Um . . . yes. Alanna, Mrs. Yates will honk when she drives in. Will you help me listen?”

  “Maybe she won’t come back.”

  Emmy’s heart contracted. Did Alanna worry about being abandoned? She’d lost her mother, and her dad worked long, erratic hours. “She’ll come back, Alanna.”

  “Oh. Well, I like staying here.”

  “So you’re okay with her going off and leaving you?” It was Gwyn’s question.

  Alanna slurped her milk. “I think Mrs. Yates is gonna see somebody about a job. I heard her talking on the phone, but she doesn’t know it.”

  “You shouldn’t have listened in on a private call,” Emmy chided gently. “You could be mistaken. Anyhow, I’m sure she’d give your dad plenty of notice. Caregivers don’t go off and not come back.” Emmy sucked in a deep breath. It surprised her that after all these years the subject affected her this strongly.

  Alanna seemed not to notice Emmy’s distress. She polished off the last of her milk and asked to visit the kitten again. “He’s sleeping in that funny chair you have.”

  “Funny? Oh, you mean the one filled with beans. It’s a relic. I should get rid of it, but I hate to throw anything out.”

  “Are the beans cooked?”

  “No, honey. They’re probably not even beans. More like those little foam peanuts used for packing breakables.”

  The girl ran off giggling.

  “Are you all right, Emmy?” Gwyn whispered. “Innocent comments sneak up and bother Jed, too. And speaking of Jed, he sent you a list of competent attorneys.” Gwyn dug a folded paper out of her back pocket. “I never had a chance to ask if the sheriff agreed to an extension to hire counsel.”

  “Yes, but I could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Not that I can blame him.” Emmy wrapped her hands around her glass. “We all want this murder solved ASAP.”

  “No one more than me,” Gwyn said. “For Jed’s sake.” She sighed and shook her head. “What type of evidence hangs around for nearly twenty years?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not well versed on murder.” Emmy shivered.

  “I guess that means you haven’t remembered anything that might help clear Jed.” Rising, Gwyn carried her glass and Alanna’s empty one to the sink.

  “I’m
sorry, I wish I could come up with something.”

  “I know, clues don’t lie there, just waiting to be found. But I keep hoping.”

  “Gwyn, does Jed still have Mom Fran’s stuff? You know,” she said, when Gwyn looked blank. “Papers or such? She had a desk in her bedroom that was off-limits to us kids. It’s where she put bills, the checkbook, stamps, warranties—that kind of stuff. I was going to call Jed and ask if he has anything stored. If he does, I’d like to take a look.”

  “He may have something, Emmy. Jed acquired this house long before he met me. Drop by later. He’s overseeing the replanting of several fallow pastures today. I have a noon appointment scheduled with an ad man from Beaumont. He’ll arrive soon, so I need to get going. Shall I tell Jed you’ll be stopping by? If he has Frannie’s things put away, it’s possible he’s forgotten about them.”

  “I hate being a pest, but yes, tell him I’ll drop in tonight. Maybe I’ll eat out and come around nine-ish. Will that allow you to get your dinner out of the way?”

  “This is June’s day off. Since I’m the world’s worst cook, I’m doing deli salads. While you’re out, grab a loaf of French bread and join us. Say, eight-thirty again.”

  “Gwyn.” Emmy sounded exasperated. “You’ve been married—what? two weeks? Jed may have his own plans for tonight.”

  “We always have our nights. Think how much sweeter it’ll be if I make him wait.” Gwyn’s cheeks blossomed pink, which did nothing to dim the devilish twinkle in her eyes.

  “Point taken. All right, I’ll see you at approximately the same time as last night. But if Jed throws me out on my ear, I’m saying I told you so.”

  The two new friends shared laughter all the way to the door. Gwyn stopped long enough to hug Alanna goodbye. Emmy latched the screen and stood in the filtered sunlight until Gwyn’s green Land Rover reached the main road.