Uncertain Past

by Roz Denny Fox

  “Things of that nature have a way of slipping out. Gossip has wings in small towns. Pregnancies and marital infidelities are extremely difficult to conceal. If I were the sort to pass on tales, I could name at least five prominent men who were cheating on their wives back then. But I believe in silence. No good ever comes of divulging the private concerns of others.”

  Riley cleared his throat. “We wouldn’t be interested in that type of information unless one of the assignations resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. And since you say with authority that no young women were spirited out of Uncertain for roughly nine months, I guess that concludes our business, Reverend.”

  “As Emerald was found nearer this parish than my old one, I’ll be glad to have a look at records here. They’re catalogued by sacrament and then by date. Sometimes unwed mothers have a pressing need to have their babies baptized—even those given up for adoption.”

  “Oh, would you?” Emmy clasped his deeply veined hands. She pulled away long enough to write the probable date of her birth and her phone number on a piece of paper, which she passed to him. “I’ll gladly follow up on any leads you find. And, Reverend Briggs, I’ll be discreet.”

  “I’m sure you will. Have you written to the Texas birth registry to request a list of babies born within four or five days on either side of your birth date? They won’t necessarily show if a mother’s married or not, but in a town of this size, how many births could there be in a year? Twenty? Fifty? Since people tend to remain in this area, it shouldn’t be hard to discover if the baby girl grew up and is still living here. Or, I heard of one adoptee who traced clothing tags to find out who’d purchased the items she wore to her adoptive home.”

  “Today is our first day at this,” Riley informed him. “Thanks so much for your time and advice. Here’s my business card. Emmy lives next door, so I can get a message to her if you can’t reach her at her number.”

  “I wish you both luck,” said the old man. He watched them walk to their car and waved a palsied hand as they pulled out.

  “I hope he doesn’t kick the bucket before he has a chance to read through those files,” Riley muttered.

  “You are a pessimist.” Emmy folded up in laughter. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to laugh all day. “But you have to admit he couldn’t have been nicer.”

  “I agree, and so far he’s been the most helpful.” Riley looked at her. “Want to go by the Trade Days stalls?”

  “I think I’d rather wait and come back on a day they’re open for business. Reverend Briggs gave me a good tip. Not about the clothing tags, because those are long gone. But I still have the basket I was found in. It was made locally. Maybe tomorrow we can drive to the factory. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. Just think, if they kept records of individual purchases, it might be a simple matter of locating the purchaser.”

  “Sounds good. So, we’re headed home?”

  “Yes. This should give you an extra hour to spend with Alanna. The weather’s clearing up nicely. You two could go for a boat ride around the lake.”

  “Hey, great idea. Want to join us? I’ll barbecue hot dogs when we get back.”

  “I hate to horn in on you and Alanna. She needs one-on-one time with her dad.”

  “What if I leave it up to her? If she wants me to herself, fine. If she’d like your company, I’ll send her over to extend the invitation.”

  “And you won’t put the question to her like a lawyer? I mean, you’ll give her an honest opportunity to say yes or no?”

  Riley clapped his hand over his heart. “You wound me, sugar babe. What kind of lawyers do you know, anyway?”

  “Shysters. Is there another kind?” She batted her eyes prettily, and he punched her arm hard enough to make her hit him back, the way she used to when they were kids. Also like a kid, she said, “Ouch, you bully.” It served to ease the day’s tensions, and they reminisced during the drive home. Both were relaxed when they reached the house, only to find Alanna sitting on the top porch step in tears. Gwyn Louis sat next to her, punching buttons on her cell telephone.

  She rose when the car rolled in. Gwyn met Riley and Emmy with a look of profound relief as they exploded from opposite sides of the car.

  “What’s up? Where’s Mrs. Yates?” Riley knelt and scooped up his daughter, who threw her arms around him and sobbed into his neck.

  “That woman,” Gwyn snapped, “telephoned me at a quarter to five. She’s accepted a new job with a state senator who’s at his summer home on Lake Sam Rayburn. Apparently she had the interview several days ago, and he got back to her this afternoon, asking her to start work tomorrow morning. She left the minute I arrived. I was just trying to raise you on your cell.”

  “What? She did what?” Sputtering, Riley squeezed Alanna too hard. He couldn’t seem to comprehend everything Gwyn was saying.

  Alanna stiffened in his arms. “Mrs. Yates said her new job pays more, Daddy. And she won’t have to take care of any kids. I can’t stay alone, and you hafta go to work. What’ll I do?” Tears poured from already reddened eyes.

  “I’d help out until you can find a replacement,” Gwyn offered. “But tomorrow I’m supervising a cheetah on set at a studio in Austin. I may be there overnight.”

  “I’m free as a bird,” Emmy chimed in. “It’s no problem, Riley. I have nothing on my agenda, except in the afternoon you and I were going to the basket company. Alanna can come along. Or not. We can always go another day.”

  “Daddy,” Alanna squealed. “Can I stay with Emmy? Oh, please say yes. I could play with Egypt, and Emmy can read me books.”

  “Are you sure about this, Emmy?” Riley asked, sounding unsure. “What a debacle. I can’t believe any responsible adult would walk out on a job without giving notice. I’ve got half a mind to call the senator and tell him what kind of person he hired. On second thought, he’s welcome to her.”

  “I’m fine with watching Alanna, honest. She and I will get along famously, won’t we, hon?”

  “Yep. We sure will.”

  “Well, thank goodness that crisis is averted.” Gwyn pocketed her cell phone and headed for her Rover. “I’ll call you when I get back to town. Maybe the five of us can have a barbecue over the weekend. Riley, would you call Jed tomorrow if you get a chance? Fielder gave him more flak today. Thorny said the sheriff’s employing subtle harassment techniques—annoying but not actionable. He told Jed to not let it get to him. You know it did.”

  “I’ll call him tomorrow from the office, Gwyn. I wonder what Logan has on his mind. Did he mention finding new evidence?”

  “I didn’t ask because Jed’s so angry. Fielder’s wearing blinders when it comes to this case.”

  “Fix Jed a double margarita when you get home. And tell him I agree with Thorny. Logan has nothing, so he’s replowing old ground, hoping to stir something up.”

  “I hope that’s all it is. Well, bye, guys. Emmy, when I get home we’ll meet for coffee. I want to hear what all you’ve found in the search for your birth mom.”

  Emmy didn’t want to admit they’d found virtually nothing. Besides, maybe their luck would change at the basket company. She made the okay sign with her fingers and waved Gwyn off with a smile.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Do you still want to take our boat around the lake and picnic afterward?” Riley asked Emmy out of Alanna’s hearing when Gwyn had gone.

  “Not if you need to call around to find out what Fielder’s up to. Alanna can come home with me and help assemble taco salads for when you’re done.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll go change and put out a couple of telephone feelers. You and Alanna fix salads and store them for when we get back. Let’s meet at the boat ramp in, oh, twenty minutes? That gives us time for a little ride around the lake before dark. I hope it’ll give my sources time to do some digging a
s well.”

  “Sounds good to me. Does that meet with your approval, Miss Alanna?” Emmy nudged the child who’d returned in time to hear the final plans.

  “Uh-huh. And I know where Daddy keeps the life jackets. We all have to wear them,” she informed Emmy importantly.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have a life jacket.” Emmy cast a worried glance toward Riley.

  “Can she wear the one you bought Miss Blair?” Alanna tipped her head to study Emmy intently. “Miss Blair’s bigger . . . on . . . top,” the child said, reaching up to pat Emmy’s chest. “You can tie the life jacket tighter for Emmy, can’t you, Daddy?”

  Emmy found herself blushing. “Who’s Blair?” she blurted, although it was the last thing she wanted to ask. Not true. She wanted to know in the worst way, since Riley was acting downright uncomfortable. He seemed ready to clap his hand over Alanna’s mouth.

  “I’ll show you,” Alanna was saying. “Daddy thinks she’s pretty, but I don’t like her.” The child wriggled down out of Riley’s arms and hit the ground running. “I’ve got a picture of Miss Blair with Daddy at the Fish Ball,” Alanna called over her shoulder as she bounded up the porch steps, clearly on a mission.

  “The Anglers’ Ball,” Riley corrected in a loud voice. “And I don’t think Emmy cares about seeing pictures of a local charity event.”

  “Oh, but I do,” Emmy murmured.

  Alanna didn’t hear her dad. The screen door banged shut on her heels.

  Emmy tucked her tongue into her cheek. She let Riley sputter and fume, digging himself in deeper. “Blair Dunning is a fellow attorney. Well, not a fellow fellow. Another lawyer. The assistant county D.A. We, uh, are professional colleagues.”

  “Of course. I imagine you buy life vests for your male colleagues, too.” Emmy reeled out the line and left the bait dangling as Alanna ran pell-mell toward them, a couple of snapshots flapping in her hand.

  Riley groaned and rolled his eyes. “It’s not the way it appears, Emmy. Marge gave her the damn pictures.”

  Alanna skidded to a stop, her sneakers touching Emmy’s sandals. Without ceremony, she thrust the photos into Emmy’s hands.

  The woman draped all over Riley in the first shot could indeed be classed as pretty. Tall, blond, sleek in a low-cut black dress. A life vest bought for the woman falling out of that dress was unlikely to fit her own size 32B—no matter how tightly it was fastened.

  Emmy cleared her throat a few times. “Nice event. I guess you’re a member of the country club now. Do you remember when we’d sneak up from the lake, joking about what those fancy-dancy folks would do if we crashed one of their parties?” She framed the second print with her fingers, blocking out the statuesque blonde, focusing instead on how sexy Riley looked wearing a tailored tux. Over the years, Emmy had occasionally envisioned him in one, especially when she dealt cards to high rollers. She’d even passed an evening wondering what she’d do if Riley walked up to her table. Of course, in her daydreams he’d always been alone.

  She quietly handed the photographs back to Alanna, although she’d give anything to ask the little girl why she didn’t like the beautiful, coolly chic Blair Dunning.

  “The club isn’t such a big deal, Emmy. I’ll take you there anytime. I guarantee you still won’t like the stuffy atmosphere. To answer your question, whenever I go, I look over the lake and wonder if there are high school kids hiding in the bushes making grandiose plans the way we used to.”

  “Listen,” Emmy said abruptly. “It’s probably too late to go boating this evening. I didn’t think about needing a life vest, but I’ll see about picking one up at the Tackle Shop. We can go another time.”

  Alanna shoved the pictures into her dad’s pocket. “I want to go now, and I want Emmy.” Her lower lip protruded as she flung her arms around Emmy’s slender waist.

  Riley hadn’t lived in a household full of women his entire life without gaining some insight into their sudden, changeable moods. He decided to ignore Emmy’s refusal. “I didn’t buy the vest for Blair. In fact, I bought two to have on hand for guests. They’re made to fit men or women and they’re easily adjusted.” He wagged his watch at Emmy. “We’ve lost five minutes of our twenty, ladies. You’ve only got fifteen left to make your salad.”

  “We’d better hurry, huh?” Alanna tugged Emmy toward the fence.

  “Sure.” Emmy sighed. “The lettuce is already chopped and the meat’s cooked. I’ll slice onions and tomatoes and you can toss stuff together, Alanna.”

  “So it’s settled?” Riley called.

  By way of answer, Emmy and Alanna broke into a run. They giggled, both enjoying the moment. Emmy tied a too big apron around Alanna. Watching the girl as she scrambled up on a chair brought an unexpected rush to Emmy, spinning her back to her own childhood. She’d stood on a chair in this very kitchen as Fran patiently taught her how to cook. The table had changed, and the appliances, but the four walls had not. If only they could talk, Emmy thought, absently massaging an aching chest.

  A little while later, the three of them met at the dock. Alanna and Emmy had one minute of their fifteen to spare. It seemed to Emmy that Riley spent an inordinate length of time adjusting her life jacket. His fingers brushed the tips of her breasts, causing heat to pool in the pit of her stomach. He was doing it on purpose and with a straight face, the rat.

  I’ll get you, she mouthed behind Alanna’s back.

  “Promises, promises,” he murmured, tickling her ear as he reached around her, deliberately pulling her close to make the final adjustment.

  Blair, the sexy D.A., was forgotten in the heat of the moment. Emmy’s blood didn’t cool until they were well into the center of the lake—and then only because of a westerly wind rippling through the lacy Spanish moss.

  She settled back to enjoy the ride, liking the way the breeze billowed Riley’s half-buttoned shirt above his life belt, and the way his hand on the tiller let the afternoon sun play on his muscles. “This boat’s a big improvement over the one you borrowed the last time you took me for a ride on Caddo Lake. Which, by the way, is also the last boat I’ve been in.”

  “No kidding. None of your circus pals in Florida had boats?”

  “Circus players barely make enough to eat. They don’t own bass boats or have memberships in ritzy country clubs.”

  Alanna squealed, and pointed to a family of ducks swimming between the lily pads. She saved Riley from having to defend a social status he’d worked hard to earn.

  A moment later, a pair of egrets swooped down and landed one-legged on the knee of a century-old cypress. Emmy made up a story about the lake for Alanna as Riley slowed to let a replica of an old paddle-wheel steamboat chug past.

  He pulled into the bigger craft’s wake. Emmy and Alanna waved to the bevy of tourists who hung over the steamer’s railing. “We’ll tail him through Mossy Brake and circle back when he swings into Jackfish Alley. I love motoring through the alley,” Riley said, “but Alanna thinks it’s creepy.”

  “So did Blair. She threw a hissy fit. You said so, huh, Daddy?”

  Riley controlled a grin. “Blair, uh, did prefer land over water.”

  Emmy gazed into the gloomy arch, where the steamboat churned up brackish water. “As kids, we used to pole through Jackfish Alley on homemade rafts. It’s a wonder half of us didn’t drown or get lost back in the bayous. I loved pretending I was a girl pirate,” she admitted. “Will, Jed and I had a contest every year to see who could find the first Yonqupin blossom,” she told Alanna.

  “I can’t come down to the lake by myself. Daddy said there’s still alligators. And sometimes they come out to sit in the sun.”

  “There are gators,” he said, “although most have disappeared into the inner corridors that were set aside as a wildlife sanctuary. I remember what we did as kids, but think differently now that I’m a parent. So, the
re’s still no going to the lake unless you’re with an adult, young lady.”

  “That’s a good rule, Alanna.” Emmy pointed to some giant, umbrella-like blue green lotus leaves. “Look. Soon those will sprout stems of bright yellow blossoms the Caddo Indians called Yonqupins. See how different they are from the other water lily pads? You know,” she added, “Mom Fran said when she was a girl, there was a time this lake lost all its water. Right where we’re boating was all mud flats.”

  Emmy straightened and frowned at Riley. “I just remembered something else. Fran said area residents dug mussels in the flats. Some had pearls inside. Caddo pearls. Tiffany’s in New York bought the larger ones, but local wealthy oilmen or timber barons had pearls set for their wives and daughters.” Emmy spoke with rising excitement. “What’s significant, Riley, is that Mom Fran said it was a Caddo pearl in my brooch.”

  “That is important, I should think. I wonder if local jewelers have records of pieces they crafted. Could you draw the one that was found with you?”

  “Not accurately, because I never saw it. All I have in my head is a pattern Mom Fran sketched. A gem-studded tree inside a gold circlet. I can’t—oh!” Her eyes grew wide as a sudden memory flashed through her mind. “One day, not long before her disappearance, Mom Fran sat me down and cautioned me not to mention the brooch to anyone at school. I’d completely forgotten that.”

  “Did she say why you weren’t to say anything?”

  Emmy shrugged. “No. And I can’t recall asking.” She stiffened. “Do you think she might have discovered that someone we knew stole the brooch? Oh, Riley. What if the day she disappeared she accosted the thief? What if it was the thief who murdered her? What if it was someone in my class?”

  Riley pulled a wry face. “That would be the height of speculation, Emmy. Who? Most of those kids except you, Jed, Will, Rico, Josey and me came from wealthy families. And if Fran had proof, wouldn’t she have gone straight to Sheriff Fielder? She wasn’t a reckless sort. Not only that, you were little, you said, when it went missing.”