“You’re right. Darn it, though, I wish I’d been more inquisitive back then.”
“Look at everything you’ve dredged up during a simple turn around the lake. I wish we had more time. But we’re losing the light. Given the tangle of duckweed, spatterdock and golden club among the lilies and lotus, I don’t care to navigate these waters after dark.”
Alanna crept from her seat in the center of the boat to cuddle up to Emmy. “Miss Gwyn said you’re trying to find your mama. What about your daddy? You’ve got a daddy like I do, right?”
Emmy darted a helpless glance at Riley.
“Alanna, honey, Emmy’s situation is kind of complicated. She was separated from her mom and dad when she was a baby. The woman who owned the house where Emmy’s staying, the one right next to us—well, she gave Emmy a home.”
Alanna stared at her father with wondering eyes. “But—but—Mrs. Yates told somebody on the phone that you were helping Emmy find her mama.”
“Who? Who did she tell? Why?”
“I dunno. I wasn’t s’posed to be listening.” Alanna hung her head contritely.
“I’m not mad at you, Alanna. I am helping Emmy . . . sort of. I guess it’s no secret,” Riley added as he guided the boat into the dock, jumped out and lashed it to the metal cleats jutting out from the wood.
Alanna tracked his every move. As did Emmy, who sat still while he hoisted his daughter out to straddle his hip. He extended his free hand to Emmy and kept it wrapped tightly in his, even after she’d stepped onto the dock.
“Alanna, I can read your mind. I want you to listen to me. Your mother isn’t lost. She died when you were born. I’ve explained that. Emmy’s case is different. The woman who gave birth to her may be out there somewhere.”
“I know my mama’s in heaven. You said she’s up there with the moon and the stars. So did Miss Marge. I’m glad you’re helping Emmy. ‘Cause it’s sad and lonesome not havin’ a mama of your own.”
Riley gaped, then kissed Alanna’s little nose. He felt Emmy squeeze his hand and curl her free fingers around his wrist. “Alanna, I’ve been wrong not to talk about your mother more. I have a mom, too. She’s your grandmother. Lately I’ve been thinking of asking Emmy to go with us to Oklahoma to visit Grandmother Gray, uh, Gray Wolf,” he muttered, aiming a guilty glance at Emmy.
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’d love to go,” she finally managed. “How about Friday—tomorrow. We could leave after we visit the basket company.”
“So soon? Well, uh . . . s-sure,” Riley stuttered. “Although, didn’t Gwyn mention getting together for a barbecue this weekend?”
Emmy batted Riley’s shoulder. “No plea bargaining, counselor. It’s time.”
Riley’s sigh spelled his resignation. “I’ll phone my uncle in the morning. He’s another person I owe amends.”
“And Josey? Will you include Josey?”
“You’re asking for a lot, Emmy. I’ll think about it. Josey meddled where she had no business.”
“Unintentionally, Riley. She’s been sorry every day since.”
“I said I’d think about it. For God’s sake, Emmy. That’s the best I can do.”
“All right.” She gave in with a shrug. “Hey, is anybody hungry? Last one to my kitchen sets the table.” Shaking Riley’s hand loose, Emmy slipped out of her life jacket and tossed it to him, then took off running.
Alanna scrambled out of his arms and did the same with her life vest. He watched the two join hands and dart across the lawn—and silently blessed Emmy for giving him time to collect his scattered emotions.
Emmy and Alanna loped along, hair streaming in the wind. One very blond and one dark, both beautiful in the fading sun’s glow. Riley jammed his hands in his pockets and followed at a leisurely pace. He figured that old saying about confession being good for the soul must be true; he didn’t know when he’d felt half as content now that he’d decided to share some of his family with Alanna.
As girlish and womanly laughter mingled and drifted back to him, he was struck by a sudden sense of family. His longed-for family. Alanna—and Emmy.
The two disappeared inside Emmy’s house. Riley quickened his pace, breaking into a jog, suddenly overwhelmed by disorienting feelings—a sense of déjà vu.
Though his heart banged unnaturally in his chest, he walked in on a perfectly benign scene. Alanna jiggled a string tied with bright spools for the kitten to chase. In the kitchen, Emmy had her head inside the refrigerator.
“You lost,” they both sang out.
“No,” Riley said. In three short strides, he’d grasped Emmy around the waist and spun her to face him. “I won,” he growled, stealing a fast kiss. “I get to have dinner with the two prettiest women in the universe.”
Flushed, Emmy ducked from his hold. “The moon’s not out yet, or I’d say you were suffering from moon madness. I know what it is, Alanna,” she called. “Your dad thinks flattery will save him from setting the table.”
The girl appeared in the archway. “What’s flattery?”
“Your dad says we’re the prettiest women in the universe. It’s nicer to call that flattery than to say he lied.”
“Oh. Well, we are pretty.”
“See.” Grinning, Riley walked Emmy backward to the counter. He deliberately pressed his weight against her as he reached over her head to take down salad plates.
This time Emmy didn’t push him away. She let herself enjoy the lingering scent of his aftershave, and the comforting feel of his solid strength. All too soon he stepped away to set the table and left her with vague yearnings.
It was clear that he’d been teasing. Her feelings were too serious. Way too serious, considering the amount of old baggage they each carried.
Very likely the combination of a stressful afternoon, the lake outing and chasing a frisky kitten around the house explained Alanna’s falling asleep over her meal.
Emmy caught her seconds before she tumbled from her chair. “Poor kid. If you’ve finished eating, Riley, go ahead and take her home to bed. Oh, does she sleep late or is she an early riser? Will you bring her here in the morning? Or should I go over to your place?”
“Come home with us tonight.”
Emmy turned and searched Riley’s eyes, expecting him still to be teasing as he bent to relieve her of Alanna’s dead weight. What she saw was blatant desire, barely contained behind his thickly lashed eyes.
Heat licked along her bare arms. He could make her want him with a mere glance. But she resisted it.
“I care too much for Alanna’s feelings to let her find me in your bed, Riley.”
“What do you mean? The kid’s crazy about you.”
“Believe me, her feelings would change if she discovered us sleeping together. You heard what she thought of you buying Blair a life jacket. Alanna may have never known her real mom, but she views the women you date as a threat. She doesn’t want a stepmother.”
“Blair’s not stepmother material. Never has been.”
“Neither am I, Riley.”
“You are, too. I watched the way you and Alanna interact. You’re natural together. It came to me how good we’d be as a family.”
Emmy’s heart sank. She put her fingers over Riley’s lips to keep him from muddling on with a backhanded marriage proposal that stemmed from all the wrong reasons. “Let’s wait and see how Alanna likes me as a sitter. I told you, Riley, I can’t . . . won’t make a commitment to anyone until I learn about myself. Who I really am.”
“Dammit, Emmy. I don’t care about any of that. I love you—the whole package. Lord knows we all have flaws.”
“That’s just it,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “You know the origin of your flaws. You have a history. I love you and Alanna too much to come to you with less than the truth about myself. Except I d
on’t know the truth yet, and maybe never will.”
Her eyes, awash in tears, reflected such agony, Riley could do nothing but turn away. “Then we won’t quit until we find the truth,” he said harshly. “Beginning tomorrow. I’ll have Marge cancel all my appointments. We’ll work on this problem until we find your birth mother or we run out of leads.”
“No. I won’t be responsible for ruining your practice. We’ll do this part time. Alanna and I will find things to keep us busy all morning. When you complete what’s on your calendar, come pick us up and we’ll go to the basket factory. Or I can drive us to your office.”
“Not unless you ride to work with me in the morning. You left your truck parked on the street outside my building.”
“Then we’d better go in with you. I’d hate to be stuck without transportation. What if something happened to Alanna?”
“You’re right. I planned to go in early, though. Can you be ready by seven?”
“No problem.” She trailed him to the door. After he’d stepped out on the porch, she rose on tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth. “I do love you, Riley.”
His eyes tracked her as she sank back on her heels, seemingly reluctant to break the connection. No less reluctant than he was.
“I just want you to know I’ve never said that to any other man. I’m miserly with my I love yous.”
Riley groaned and bent to kiss her again. Emmy was too fast and slipped behind the screen. Then the door itself closed. He felt like kicking it down and snatching Emmy up, along with Alanna, to take both of them home. Where they belonged.
Slowly the wind blowing off the lake cooled his impatience. Walking home, he knew that he’d have to redouble his efforts to dig out the answers that would make Emmy feel whole. For the first time, Riley realized this wasn’t so much about his loving her and accepting her, but about loving her enough to support her search one hundred percent. Until now he’d been going along to humor her. Suddenly, he wanted Emmy to succeed because what he wanted most in the world was for her to be happy.
Friday, early, they met at the appointed time. Alanna, though still sleepy, was in good spirits and not cranky as Emmy feared she might be. They didn’t go with Riley up to his office, but climbed in Emmy’s pickup, heading to the grocery store.
“To get pancake mix for breakfast,” she informed Riley when he stated that his cupboards were full.
She did her best to keep a straight face, but Riley knew what they were up to. Alanna, never able to keep anything secret, had told him she and Emmy planned to bake him peanut-butter cookies. The news had warmed him in a special way. It meant a lot, hearing that Emmy had remembered his favorite treat. She’d always had a unique ability to lay her finger on the things that troubled him and those that made him happy.
A quality he hadn’t found in any other woman.
Smiling, still deep in private thoughts, Riley unlocked his office. Snapping on the overhead light in the reception area, he nearly stepped on a white envelope lying on the floor. He juggled his keys and his briefcase in order to pick it up. Someone had obviously slipped it under the door after Marge had locked up and left for the day.
A payment? He dropped the envelope on her desk, and as it fluttered down, he noticed his name typed in upper case letters. Below it said Personal and Confidential. Curious, he rested his briefcase on the desk and slit the envelope with Marge’s letter opener. A single sheet of paper revealed a short but pointed message.
Stop snooping into Emerald Monday’s background or else . . .
Someone had drawn a crude row of black daggers, each dripping red blood.
Riley almost lost his grip on the paper. This was the last thing he’d expected. Who? Why? When? The questions tripped over each other. His reaction veered from anger to excitement to a clutch of fear.
Dammit, would the perpetrator of this message really kill to protect his or her secret? Folding the sheet of ordinary computer paper, he hurried into his private office. This proved he and Emmy had rattled someone’s cage yesterday.
“Hot damn. We’re on the right track,” he muttered to himself.
Loosening the tie he’d only fastened an hour ago, he telephoned the friend who had more experience doing family searches than he did. “Duncan? Riley Gray here. I’d hoped to catch you at your desk. I have something to run by you. After the first day of working with that search information you sent, I got a threatening note shoved under my office door.”
The two men conversed for several minutes, tossing out possible scenarios as they’d often done as law students.
“I think you have to take this person seriously,” Duncan advised. “While some birth parents want to remain anonymous, they usually aren’t violent. If I were you, my next step would be to give that letter to the local police.”
“Frankly, it looks like the kind of threat one kid might make to another. You know as well as I do that the police never take these notes seriously unless some type of action follows the threat. I’m inclined to press on with our search to see if we can smoke out this person.”
“Yeah,” Duncan admitted reluctantly. “I’d probably do the same. These damned searches are like three dimensional puzzles. Solving puzzles is why we went into lawyering in the first place. Just take it easy, pal. And watch your back.”
“I will. Hey, Duncan, thanks. I believe I’ll keep this information to myself for a while and see what shakes out. I’ll phone if anything develops.”
Riley sat gripping the phone until he heard Marge arrive and call out her usual greeting. He’d stored the letter and envelope in an inside pocket of his briefcase well before she walked in and placed a steaming cup of coffee on his desk.
“Any luck with yesterday’s mission?” she asked, presenting him with the normal stack of outgoing correspondence awaiting his signature.
Riley uncapped his pen. “A bunch of dead ends. Reverend Briggs promised to check the church records. I’m glad you cleared my afternoon. We’d like to take the basket Emmy was found in over to the factory where they’re made. Did anyone happen to call after we left yesterday, asking . . . oh, I don’t know, anything about Emmy or this search?”
“No.” Marge studied her boss. “But I hope you weren’t counting on keeping this quiet. If so, you’ve failed. Last night was my standing hair appointment at the Clip and Curl. The place was abuzz and speculations were flying.”
Riley finished signing the letters, capped the pen and handed everything back to Marge. “General gossip? Or did you hear anything we might be able to use?”
“Emmy’s search sparked old stories about which husbands were sleeping around back then. As far as anyone knew—or was willing to reveal—none of the affairs resulted in a hushed up pregnancy.”
Riley didn’t say so, but after the note he’d received, he was inclined to believe there was at least one illegitimate child conceived by someone in Uncertain. Someone who’d indulged in a well-guarded tryst. A tryst he or she wanted to keep hidden.
“Marge, could you get Jed Louis on the phone?”
“Shall I schedule an appointment for him?”
“No. Fielder apparently questioned him about the Granger murder again. I just wondered what bee he has up his butt this time.”
A few minutes later, Marge rang on the intercom to say Jed was on the line. Riley snatched up the phone. “Hi, violin man. Where’ve you been lately? You and Gwyn need to meet Emmy and me down at Crazy Jake’s. No reason I should be the only sap Emmy thwacks at darts.”
Jed’s laugh sounded strained. “I’m lying low for a while. Although I don’t know what good it does. Fielder isn’t looking beyond his nose. Still thinks I’m his man.”
There was no need for Jed to elaborate. Riley knew Logan had pegged Jed as Frannie’s murderer. “Gwyn mentioned the old fool came by to dig his spurs in again. What this time?�
�
“Forensic botany identified material on what was left of Fran’s shoes. Spore fibers indicate she was killed on one of the lakeside docks and later moved to the Caddo mound where she was buried. Fielder demanded I come clean about the fight I had with Frannie the day we argued about Juilliard and I took off in my boat.”
“Frannie’s isn’t the only lake dock. I should think one board would test pretty much like another. It’s certainly not conclusive.”
“Precisely what Thorny said. But Fielder’s insinuations are insulting. I’d love to knock that smirk off his ugly face.”
“And he’d love for you to do it, Jed. It’d give him an excuse to arrest you. If he had any proof from those latest tests, you’d already be looking to post bond. Stay cool, man. Don’t let him rattle you. Hey, Gwyn suggested getting together this weekend for a barbecue. Is the date negotiable? I’ve decided it’s time to patch a few wounds I’ve caused with my mother. First thing I have to do, though, is connect with my uncle, see if I can make some arrangements to visit Mom. Emmy’s agreed to go with me to introduce Alanna to her grandmother.”
“I’m happy to hear it, Riley. Kids need all the family ties available to them.”
The two old friends talked for a while about Riley’s momentous decision. They signed off after agreeing to touch base later with a date for the barbecue.
Riley’s first appointment arrived as he hung up. For the next four hours, he practiced the type of law that earned his keep.
Marge appeared in the doorway seconds after his last morning client had gone. “That’s it for appointments. Mr. Davidson’s going to bring in those contracts he mentioned around three o’clock. I’ll leave them with Mrs. Yates on my way home.”
Riley glanced up with a start. “I forgot to tell you about her, Marge.” He quickly conveyed the details of his housekeeper’s hasty departure.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish. If you ask me, Alanna will be a hundred times better off with Emmy Monday. But, you’d better watch they don’t get too attached—unless you plan to do something about making it permanent.” Marge clucked like a mother hen and crossed her plump arms, staring at Riley with her gimlet eye.
Uncertain Past Page 20
