“It’s a shame you’re so shy and retiring, Marge. But I’m squelching that rumor before it starts. Emmy’s in town to find her roots, not a husband.”
“Doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want both if the opportunity presented itself.”
“Don’t get any ideas.” He rose and stripped off his already loose tie. “Most of all, don’t put ideas of that sort in Alanna’s head. Emmy’s been a rolling stone for years. Who’s to say she’s even capable of settling down in one place?” That hurt when he said it.
“Horse pucky. Any fool can see that young woman wants nothing more than to be part of a family. But if you’re too blind—”
“That’s enough, Marge.” Riley spoke in the tone of a boss. “If you need me for any reason this afternoon, you can reach me on my cell.”
After marching from the office and peeling out of his parking space, Riley brooded all the way home about what Marge had said. Interspersed with those thoughts were his worries over the note shoved under his door. Maybe he ought to press Emmy harder to accept his marriage proposal. What if the note writer was some kind of sociopath? He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to Emmy because he was negligent in taking the threat seriously. Why, even now some nut could be stalking her.
Riley vaulted out of his car almost before the engine stopped running. Bursting through his front door, all he encountered was domestic tranquility. The house smelled of lemon furniture polish and newly baked peanut butter cookies. Woman and child sat on his couch, their heads nearly touching. Alanna was threading shoelaces through sewing cards Riley recognized as the ones Gwyn had helped him buy for her birthday.
“Hi.” Emmy glanced up and smiled hesitantly. “What’s up, wildman? You look as if you expected to find us murdered or something.”
Rising lazily, she stretched like the kitten that sprang off Alanna’s lap. The move pulled tight the cotton T-shirt Emmy wore over unfettered breasts. Saliva pooled in Riley’s dry mouth, but her comment grated on him like fingernails raked across a chalkboard. “You volunteered to babysit my daughter, yet any two-bit bum could stroll in here and snatch her. Or you. Why do you think I installed locks on my doors?”
Emmy and Alanna exchanged puzzled looks. “I forget the country’s changed. I won’t leave the door unlocked anymore,” Emmy promised.
“Me’n Emmy made cookies. She baked bread and I got to squish the dough. When the loaves got cool, we fixed turkey sandwiches and packed ‘em in the basket Emmy’s taking to that factory. I’ve had so much fun, Daddy.” Alanna’s lower lip puckered. “Please don’t yell at Emmy.”
Riley dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. It, uh, looked as if the house was empty when I drove in.” He swung Alanna into his arms and squeezed Emmy’s shoulder reassuringly. Lord, he had to quit acting like a panicky fool. It wouldn’t serve any purpose to worry them, yet he’d come close to blurting out the truth about that note.
Forcing his body to relax, he mustered a grin. “Fresh bread and home baked cookies. You ladies wouldn’t be trying to bribe me, now would you?”
He didn’t expect it, but they both looked guilty as sin.
“Aha,” he said triumphantly, setting Alanna down so he could pull out his wallet. “Okay. How much is this going to cost me?”
“No money, Daddy,” Alanna said in a tiny voice.
Emmy looped an arm around Alanna’s shoulders. “I unpacked some of my old picture albums today. Alanna came across a photo of the five of us at the lake. Jed, Will, you, me and Josey. Your sister’s place is right on our way home from the basket factory,” she rushed to say. “She’d be off work by then, and . . . and, well, maybe we could stop by and take her out for pizza or burgers. Also, Gwyn phoned from Austin after you spoke with Jed. She thinks we need to cheer Jed up this weekend. I okayed the barbecue for Saturday. That means we can’t go to Oklahoma.”
Totally caught off guard, Riley had no option, after staring at the two eager faces, but to agree to their plan. In a way he was relieved to have a different sword hanging over his head. “Sure. I never got around to phoning my uncle, anyway. So let’s be off to the basket place. When we’re finished there, Emmy, you phone Josey from my cell. Just to remind you, though, reunions can be difficult or unpleasant.”
Emmy considered what he’d said. “I understand your reluctance to see Josey, Riley. But I believe that, unless you strip away the barriers—unless you make old wounds visible—you can’t heal.”
“So be it,” he said gravely. “Alanna, run up and go to the bathroom. Give me the basket, Emmy. I’ll put it in the trunk.”
The minute Alanna was out of sight, he managed to steal a few kisses from Emmy. Not that he really considered them stolen. She cooperated without any urging.
Alanna returned, and they claimed seats in the car as a family would. They hadn’t gone five miles down the road when unaccountably, Riley’s cares fell away.
Chapter Twelve
They’d eaten their sandwiches en route, so once they reached the outskirts of Jacksonville, they were ready to follow the signs directing them to the basket company. They parked beside one of the outbuildings, and Riley assisted Alanna from the back seat while Emmy retrieved her basket. She and Alanna fell behind Riley as he opened the door to the retail sales portion of the plant. They stopped just inside to examine cleverly displayed baskets lining wooden shelves. Among the baskets sat decorative jars filled with colorful canned fruits and vegetables.
Lagging a bit, Emmy read an old framed news clipping that hung on the wall. She kept an eye on Riley as he approached a woman doing ledger work at a desk.
He handed her his business card across the counter and stopped Alanna from dancing around the room. “We have a basket we believe was manufactured here a little over thirty years ago. We realize it’s a long shot, but we’re wondering if you kept sales records back then. I’m really asking if it’s possible to identify the buyer of this particular piece.”
He took the basket from Emmy and set it on the counter.
“This basket does look like one of ours. I’ve only worked here ten years, but I can tell you we ship our baskets all over the world. Your basket could have been purchased through any outlet. Our operation wasn’t as large back then, but even if this was bought on-site, we don’t record buyer names.”
Emmy tried not to appear disappointed, although it was difficult to conceal her reaction.
Riley sensed her struggle to overcome yet another frustration in a long chain of them. He placed a bracing hand on her shoulder. “Is it at least possible to tell if the company shipped a limited number, or are we talking tens of thousands?”
Alanna still clung to Emmy’s left hand. “There are rooms full of baskets over there,” she whispered loudly. “Daddy, may I go look at them?”
Emmy looked through the door Alanna had indicated. There were indeed several rooms off the main one, rather like a rabbit warren. They were all filled with baskets of various types and colors. “I’ll wander around with you,” Emmy murmured. She decided to let Riley pursue what was obviously another dead end. He seemed so patient, bless his heart. Her nerves were continually on edge.
Fifteen or so minutes later, he found them in a narrow upstairs room, examining chore baskets. “I put your basket back in the car, Emmy. I wasn’t able to find out much. Currently the company makes six to ten thousand baskets a day. They opened in 1924, fashioning baskets from local woods. Yours is a mix of sweet gum and elm, a weaver said. She’s worked here for 35 years and explained that baskets like yours were sold in many craft stores. She believes some stores also included instructions and material on how to turn the basket into a baby carrier. She said pink or blue checked linings were popular along with fancy lace edging. The bookkeeper pulled bills of lading on that stock number. They were shipped en masse to craft stores all over the state. I’m sorry, Emmy. I know you were co
unting on learning more.”
“I wasn’t. Not really. I knew it was iffy.”
“Daddy, can I buy a basket for my baby doll? Look, this one’s just what I need. It’s sort of like Emmy’s basket.”
“All she’s talked about since you explained how I was found in a basket,” Emmy said, “is getting one like it for the doll you bought for her birthday.”
Kneeling, Riley inspected the basket. He determined it was pliable and sturdy enough for a rambunctious child’s toy. “It looks okay, kiddo. As I walked through the rooms trying to find you, I started thinking it might be nice to pick out a couple of decorative baskets. You can give one to Aunt Josey if we see her tonight. And later, when we see your grandmother, you can give her one, too.” Riley stood again and scanned the room, apparently unsure as to whether baskets would make appropriate gifts or not.
“That’s a wonderful idea.” Emmy slipped her arm through his and gave him a spontaneous hug. “Alanna, remember those cute hand painted baskets we saw in the room next to the Christmas decorations? Some of them held soaps and lotions. Others had pencils, grocery pads and notepaper. They’d make great gifts.”
“Yeah, Daddy. Come see.” Alanna yanked on his arm.
“Whoa. I’ll trust you and Emmy to pick something suitable.” Seeking Emmy’s eyes, he muttered, “It won’t look as if I’m trying to buy my way back into their good graces, right? That’s the last impression I’d care to give.”
“The baskets aren’t expensive, so no one would ever mistake the gesture as an attempted bribe. They’ll be perfect icebreakers. If Alanna’s the one to take them the gifts, Josey and Neva will have all the more reason to dote on her.”
“Thanks, Emmy,” Riley said as Alanna ran ahead of them to choose two baskets. “I set out to change your mind about digging up the past. The way things ended up, you convinced me to dig into mine. That’s not all. Somewhere along the way, I discovered that I’m really pulling for you to succeed. I see how excited Alanna is at the prospect of meeting my relatives. I had no idea—Well, I figured we’d be fine alone. The truth is, I’ve missed my family. I have you to thank for hitting me over the head.”
“Marge planted the idea. I’m happy to have played a minor role. I envy you your family, Riley. I’m afraid I’ve waited too long to hunt for mine,” she said, releasing a long sigh.
“I’ll grant you, the tracks have faded.”
“Yeah. Last night it occurred to me that people drive in from all over Texas, and even neighboring states, to exhibit at First Monday Trade Days. My mother could have come from anywhere. She might’ve been a transient just passing through. Did you see the old newspaper clipping they have framed in the front office? Much of this area used to be tomato farms. The article says that people traveled great distances to work on the harvest.”
Riley’s thoughts flashed back to the note someone had slipped under his office door. “Possible, but probably not. Farm workers don’t strike me as people who abandon their kids. And would one of them own an expensive brooch? Emmy, when you were little, did anyone in Uncertain pay extra attention to you?”
“How so?”
“Like . . . did an outsider bring you toys or gifts at holidays? Or as you got older, did anyone in particular stop you on the street, just to talk? Stuff like that?”
Emmy rubbed a thumb across pursed lips. Finally, she shook her head. “Joleen came for cake and ice cream at birthdays. But she visited us a lot, anyway, usually on her way home from work. Once she gave me a Barbie coloring book. Surely you can’t believe my mother would dump me, then stick around to watch someone else raise me? Isn’t that pretty farfetched?”
The note in Riley’s briefcase suggested otherwise. Yet, until he figured out how it fit into the equation, he wasn’t about to add to Emmy’s worries. “I wonder if Joleen would be less uptight if you went to see her without me?”
“You do think she knows more than she’s telling.”
“She found you. If you can get her to take a longer look back, it’s possible she might have seen someone or something that at the time didn’t seem significant.”
“I suppose Alanna and I could bake a coffee cake on Monday and run it by Joleen’s house. Maybe seeing Alanna will jog Joleen’s memory of me as a child.”
“It’s worth a try. Don’t pressure her, though, and if she tries to throw you out, just leave.”
“She’s antisocial, Riley. I doubt she’s dangerous.”
“Maybe. And maybe she’s totally off her rocker. “
Emmy started to scoff at the idea. Only Riley sounded so serious, she felt a ripple of fear skitter up her spine. She didn’t pursue the matter, because by then Alanna had selected her gifts. The two adults helped carry her baskets to the cash register. On the way, Emmy picked up two square baskets woven from wood strips dyed in fall colors. “I need wastebaskets in the kitchen and bathroom,” she said. “These are vinyl-lined. They’re perfect,” she told the cashier.
“Be sure to visit our observation deck. It’s outside, around the corner to your left,” the woman said. “Kids find it fascinating to watch how we assemble baskets. Today the crew is making bushel baskets commonly used by small farmers or gardeners for fruit, roses or corn.”
Riley thanked her for the information.
Alanna skipped off happily to find the surveillance area. Emmy, who’d already paid her bill, collected her purchases and followed, leaving Riley to complete his transaction.
They spent half an hour watching the weavers. A man who held a clipboard and seemed to be a supervisor exited one of the buildings, saw them and volunteered to answer any questions they might have. Alanna, typical of a curious preschooler, asked dozens.
When she wound down, Riley jumped in. “Thank the gentleman, Alanna. We’ve taken enough of his time. It’s getting late. If we’re going to try to catch Josey before dinner, we’d better let Emmy go phone her.”
At the parking lot, Riley left Emmy to phone and promptly got busy lowering the car’s convertible top. After that, he stowed the baskets in the trunk and helped Alanna buckle into her child’s seat in back as Emmy chatted away to his sister. Once, when Emmy motioned the phone toward him, Riley reached out to take it, then shook his head.
Emmy backed off, giving him an odd stare.
“That was painless,” she said, disconnecting and handing him the phone. “For a minute I thought Josey might have fainted when I told her what was up, but she recovered faster than you did,” she said wryly. “Josey’s ecstatic. Here are the directions to her house.” Emmy ripped a sheet of paper from the notepad she’d taken to carrying everywhere since they’d begun her search.
He hauled in a deep, shaky breath. “I heard you ask about pizza. I remember what toppings she used to like. What if she hates pepperoni now?” Riley knew damn well he wasn’t talking about pizza; so, he suspected, did Emmy.
“She said any type is fine. I’m sure she’ll be too excited to eat a bite.” Emmy’s eyes suddenly glistened with tears. She tried discreetly to blot them away.
“Emmy, it’s thoughtless of me to make you a witness to our reunion when it’s yours we’re trying to bring about.” They’d settled into their respective seats, but Riley turned toward Emmy, his face reflecting deep concern.
“Don’t mind me, Riley. I get emotional over books and movies, and even the occasional commercial. This is real life—I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Her watery smile remained firmly affixed.
Alanna stretched forward from the back seat and patted Emmy’s hair. “Don’t cry, Emmy. Daddy promised he’d find your mama. He never breaks a promise.”
“Hold on, kiddo.” Turning, Riley frowned at his daughter. “I promised to try to help Emmy. That’s not the same thing as a double-dog promise.”
“But you will, I know. ‘Cause it’s important to Emmy, and we don’t like h
er being sad, do we, Daddy?”
Her words hit Riley like a brick between the eyes. What Alanna said was true. He’d walk barefoot over tack strip to see Emmy reach her goal. First and foremost, however, he was committed to her safety. How serious was that damned warning? Should he tell Emmy in the hope that she might shed some light? Or was the threat directed at him for getting involved? Until he knew for certain, it might be wise to slow their pace.
“If this meeting with Josey goes well, Emmy, maybe I’ll ask Marge to cancel all my appointments for a few days next week. Josey’s bound to tell Mom. How fair is it to make her wait to meet her only grandchild? We could drive to Oklahoma on Sunday.” Riley had been struck by a notion. If Marge spread the word to her friends at the beauty shop that she and Emmy were mediating reunions with his family, it might throw the note writer off track. At least until he had a chance to have the paper tested for fingerprints and other identifiable markings which he’d decided needed to be done.
“Can you cancel appointments on the spur of the moment? Won’t you lose clients that way?”
“It’s to be expected if you deal with a lawyer in a solitary practice. Marge is a diplomat when it comes to switching appointments. I often have to appear in court on short notice.”
“Well, then. All I’d planned for next week was to do fun things with Alanna. Oh, and a second visit to Joleen. I can do that any day.”
“So it’s agreed? As soon as we get home, I’ll phone Mom. Now, before we pick up the pizza, help me figure out some possible opening lines for when we get to Josey’s.”
“Oh, Riley,” Emmy said softly. “Be natural. This isn’t something you can script ahead of time.”
“We haven’t communicated in years,” he muttered, glancing at his daughter in the rearview mirror. Alanna had put on the earphones to her VTech player. She was swinging her shoulders and mouthing the words of her favorite Disney song. Riley smiled at her absorption, but he was nervous. He reached for Emmy’s hand, needing the connection.
Uncertain Past Page 21
