Final Call

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “She was raped,” I said. “By her mother’s boyfriend.”

  Mariel’s face paled. “The poor child.”

  “I take it you had no idea,” Tawnia said.

  “No idea at all. I mean I knew Laina and Kendall had some sort of falling-out but not the specifics. Laina was drunk a lot in those days. I remember a time when she was talking all jealous-like about her current guy leaving because of Kendall. It was crazy, ridiculous, of course, and I thought at the time it must have been the drink talking. Or the drugs. She did them in those days as well.” Mariel shook her head. “Anyway, a few months after Kendall left, Laina finally went to one of those programs and got help. There was no more crazy talk after that.”

  “Did Laina ever mention Kendall when she was sober?”

  “Just to say that she’d disappeared from the place across town where she was working.” The only thing the owner would say was that she was living with a nice family. She wouldn’t tell Laina where. Laina tried to go through the state, but somewhere along the line she’d lost custody, so that didn’t get her far. I’d always hoped they’d make up.”

  “They might have if Kendall had lived,” Tawnia said. “In the letter she left us, she said her mom offered to have her come home if she gave up the baby for adoption. Kendall wasn’t happy about that at the time, but she later realized it would be best for the baby—for us—so they might have made up if they’d had more time.”

  Mariel shook her head. “Sometimes life just ain’t fair.”

  We nodded in agreement.

  “So,” Tawnia asked, “do you know who the boyfriend was?” Her voice was deceptively casual, but I recognized the emotion behind it. My stomach clenched as I waited for the answer.

  Mariel shook her head. “There were so many of them, you know? Again, that was because of the drink. She always picked the wrong guys. After she cleaned up, she lived here for about three or four more years, and we became really good friends. She worked as a clerk at the gas station. Then she got married and moved away. I was glad for her. She was only a few years older than you two by then, I expect. She had Kendall when she was only sixteen.”

  She let us digest this for a minute before adding, “I learned about plants from Laina. She had a green thumb. Everything she touched blossomed—after she cleaned up, I mean. Her yard looked beautiful. Too bad she wasn’t as good in the kitchen. But she got a husband anyway. An electrician, if I remember correctly. Or maybe he was a mechanic. I forget. But he did something responsible.”

  I also had a green thumb, and I’d raised herbs since my childhood. I’d thought that was because my adoptive parents owned an herb shop, but maybe there was more to it than that. Tawnia didn’t share my green thumb, though. Or my ability to cook.

  “So, is Laina still alive?” I asked.

  Mariel clicked her tongue. “I expect so. She’d be about my age now—sixty-five or sixty-six. But we lost touch. Last I heard, she’d moved to Salem.”

  “That’s not too far from here, is it?” Tawnia asked.

  “About fifteen minutes.”

  Tawnia bounced Destiny on her lap, trying to keep her from fussing. “I don’t suppose you remember her new last name.”

  “Let’s see.” Mariel squinted and looked up at the ceiling. “It was something really different, but I can’t remember exactly what. Walker? No, that wasn’t it. Hmm.”

  Tawnia leaned forward. “Maybe you have an old letter from her?”

  “We weren’t much for writing. We usually talked on the phone. Anyway, I don’t save letters. It’s only clutter. But I think it was Wallace—no, Walkins. Or maybe Walkling. Yeah, it was either Walkins or Walkling. I’m sure of it.”

  “Thanks,” Tawnia said. “That’ll narrow our search.”

  “I have a few friends, too, that I can call and ask. They might remember the name. A lot of us were there at the wedding, though none of them still live around here. At least none that I can think of.”

  Tawnia rose to her feet. “You’ve been a great help already. Thank you so much.”

  “Look,” Mariel said as she accompanied us to the door. “What Laina did back when Kendall was a kid wasn’t right, but she suffered a lot afterward. What I’m saying is to not be too hard on her. She was young and poor and all alone. She did the best she could. It wasn’t good enough for Kendall, but what can you do? By the time Laina was old enough to really handle motherhood, the alcohol already had her in its clutches.”

  I nodded. “Don’t worry. We’re not out to hurt her. We only want to find out about our history. You know, medical, ancestry. That sort of thing.” About our strange talents, our eyes.

  “We don’t expect anything from her,” Tawnia added.

  Mariel smiled. “Oh, but she’ll be happy to see you. Really happy. I know it.”

  Tawnia and I bade Mariel farewell and walked back to the car in silence. We’d found what we’d hoped to find and learned a little more about our young birth mother.

  “It’s so sad,” Tawnia said, sliding into her seat and bringing Destiny to her breast. “One thing leads to another. If Laina had waited to have a child. If Kendall had been at a friend’s the night of her birthday. Or anything. It could have all been different.”

  A lot of things could be different. No powder in a glass of lemonade could have meant a life saved. A hammer put in its proper place might have prevented a crime of passion.

  “But it wasn’t different,” I said. “Only the future can be different.”

  “I hope that Laina’s . . . I hope that she’s . . .” Tawnia didn’t finish.

  “I know,” I said. “I hope so, too.”

  There was no option of going to Salem right then. Not only did we want to go to church, but even if Laina was still in Salem, we both agreed that it would be best to let her know in advance who we were and why we were coming. Besides, the phone book might not lead us to her directly. We might need Tawnia’s Internet skills to pinpoint her whereabouts.

  “You okay going directly to church?” Tawnia asked me.

  “Isn’t that why you made me wear this dress?” The boots didn’t go all that well with it, especially once I took my coat off, but I didn’t plan to wear the shoes inside the church anyway. People there were accustomed to seeing me without footwear, and even if they cared, they made exception for me because they loved my sister so much. Besides, I think they kind of enjoyed having their own resident eccentric.

  Now that I knew I could do nothing further about my past, I was back to thinking about Rosemary. The next step was going to see her parents to determine if they knew anything. I’d take Tawnia’s drawing, too, to see if they recognized the woman.

  Tawnia said nothing as I tore the sheet from the pad. “If you do another and it shows anything else, let me know,” I told her.

  She nodded. “You’ll be careful?”

  “I’m just going to talk to her parents tonight. I should show this to Shannon, though.”

  “Ah.” Her grin was back.

  “Don’t start. There is nothing between us.”

  “We both know you’re lying.”

  “Okay, then. What about Jake?”

  She sighed. “I know. He’d be hard for me to give up.”

  “You’re no help.”

  “Do you need help?”

  I rolled my eyes and kept my mouth shut.

  Inside the church, I sloughed off my boots and stretched my bare toes on the carpet. Tawnia rolled her eyes, but one of the new mothers in the ward smiled. “I wish I dared go barefoot. These heels are killing me.”

  I nodded in commiseration. “If I wear shoes with any kind of a heel, my back hurts for weeks.”

  “Well, you have a good excuse,” she said. “And you carry it off well. That’s the important thing.” Hefting her car seat, she headed
into the chapel where the prelude music was already playing.

  Tawnia and I followed her, nodding at members as we passed the rows of seats. As I eased into my seat, peace seeped over me, coming from the waves of the music, the greetings of our friends, and even the benches and walls, soothing my worries about the case and my past. Time enough to worry about all that later.

  After church we went to Tawnia’s to eat her Crock-Pot dinner of pork, carrots, celery, and potatoes. It was every bit as good as I’d hoped, and after two huge helpings, I was ready for a nice nap, but the vision of Rosemary lying on the ground somewhere compelled me to continue my sleuthing.

  “When’s Bret coming home?” I asked as my sister drove me back to my place.

  “Tuesday, I hope. I don’t like staying alone.”

  I would have volunteered to stay with her, but her house was simply too far away from my shop for convenience. “You’re always welcome to stay with me,” I offered.

  She shook her head. “Not enough room with all those antiques.”

  I’d expected that reply. While the shelves and corners in my apartment were crowded with, well, just about everything, Tawnia’s house was sparse and completely orderly, a legacy from her adoptive parents. To me, my apartment was comfortable and homey while Tawnia’s decor was a little too high class and a bit stuffy. But I still loved her more than anyone else in the world.

  I leaned over the backseat to say good-bye to Destiny. “You’re bringing her by the store tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, but I only have to be at work for an hour. I wouldn’t even go if it weren’t the mandatory meeting. I get more done at home. Fewer interruptions.”

  I knew it galled her a little not to be over the creative department at the advertising firm anymore and to have been reduced to a simple team member, but that was a small price for having Destiny. “See you then.”

  “Call me if there are any developments,” she threw after me.

  “I will. And you call me if you find Laina.”

  “Oh, I’ll find her. I feel it.”

  Sometimes you can really tell we’re sisters.

  I decided to change clothes, mostly because the boots did look so out of place with the dress. My legs already felt icy in the cold air, and darkness, with its accompanying thermometer drop, was well on its way.

  I opened the door to my apartment and froze as I heard movements in the kitchen. “Who’s there?” I called. Maybe I should rethink giving out so many keys.

  Except maybe it wasn’t someone I knew. Chills crawled up my spine. I eased off my coat, letting it drop to the floor, and brought my hands to the ready.

  Chapter 10

  Hi.” Jake’s body filled the kitchen door frame, his skin appearing more bronze because of the light from behind him.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and lowered my hands. “Man, you scared me.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry. I came to see how it went in Hayesville. I was just about to leave you a note.”

  I’d expected him to ask about Rosemary and the murder, but then I remembered he hadn’t been around for the rest of the excitement last night. For all he knew, I’d come straight home.

  “Oh, that. Yeah. We found a lady who knew our biological grandmother back then. She gave us her name, and Tawnia’s going to do a little research to find her. She moved to Salem almost thirty years ago.” I shrugged and bent down to pull off the boots, sighing with relief to have my feet free.

  “You eat yet?”

  “Tawnia made Crock-Pot.”

  He arched a brow. “Edible?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  We stood looking at each other a little awkwardly. “I just came home to change,” I said. “I’m going to see Rosemary’s parents.”

  “Why?”

  I hesitated. “She had a confrontation with her father. It’s probably nothing—they found a guy trying to break into Rosemary’s apartment last night, and he’s the prime suspect.”

  “But they still haven’t found her.”

  “No.” Shannon would have called, but I didn’t tell him that. Though the men were on good terms, I didn’t need to rub my connection to Shannon in Jake’s face. I bent to retrieve Tawnia’s drawing from my coat pocket. “That’s why I want to see what the fight was about and if her parents have any idea where she might be. I’m not sure she has much time left—if she’s still alive at all.”

  He studied the drawing. “Tawnia did this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll go with you, if you like.”

  I really wanted him to, but from what I’d gleaned from Liam about his parents, I felt I was likely to get more from them alone than with Jake. He could be intimidating with those dreadlocks.

  “I’d better go alone. Or with Liam.”

  “You’re positive it’s not dangerous?”

  “They’re Liam’s parents, upstanding people in the community. I’m sure it’ll be okay. Even if they have no clue as to her whereabouts, I might find imprints Rosemary left that can tell us something.” I added this last reluctantly, hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

  He must have heard the tension in my voice because all he said was, “You want to hang out when you get back?”

  “Sure.”

  At that he took a tentative step forward, his hands going to my shoulders. “I’ve really missed you, Autumn.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” It was the truth. Jake had once been everything I wanted, but I’d changed since my gift emerged. I wasn’t as fragile as I’d been at Winter’s death, and I didn’t need Jake as much as I had. He was a little too dependable and, well, always there. It didn’t make sense, not even to me.

  Maybe it was all an excuse. Maybe I was simply afraid of where we were heading. It would be so easy to fall into his arms, to let his lips work their magic, to find a future with him as Tawnia had with Bret.

  Not as long as Shannon was in my blood.

  I hugged Jake, which I knew was actually a way of holding him at arm’s length while pretending everything was normal. I didn’t fool either of us.

  “What time will you be back?”

  “I can text you when I leave their house.”

  “Okay. See you then.” He started for the door.

  I went toward my room, turning around only once when I heard the door softly shut. I frowned and whispered, though he was no longer there, “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  Pushing my feelings aside, I hurried to change into my heavy army pants and black sweatshirt. I called Liam as I went to the kitchen for a quick cup of herbal tea. He didn’t pick up, so I texted him to call back immediately.

  The kitchen light was still on, and right away I saw the new herbs on my small table. A dozen different seedlings, all ready for replanting in my nicer pots.

  Jake. That man knew what I liked.

  As I waited for the water to boil and for Liam to call back, I placed the herbs on the rack in front of my kitchen window with the rest of my collection. I’d had a run of bad luck with the new fluorescent lighting I had rigged for winter, and several of my best plants had died. These would fill in the gaps. Smiling, I pulled some leaves from one of my thriving mint plants, tearing them several times to put into my hot water.

  Liam called as I finished. “Hi,” I said. “I need to visit your parents. Can you give me the address?”

  “I’m here now for Sunday dinner. But why do you want to see them?”

  “Because a lot has happened since I last talked to you. Rosemary’s roommate who works at the same theater was found dead yesterday. Poisoned. Your sister’s disappearance might be connected.”

  Except for a few deep breaths, he was silent for a few moments as he digested the news. “I knew something was up. Do you think she’s okay?”

 
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” I wanted to tell him about the hammer, but that wasn’t the kind of information you shared over the phone. “Text me the address,” I said gently. “I need to talk to them now.”

  “Is it okay if I’m here?”

  “Sure.”

  His text came through as I poured the tea, leaves and all, into my mug. Clapping on the lid and adding a small straw, I hurried from the kitchen, stopping only to pull on my boots and Winter’s coat. I was glad to have the hot mug in my hands as I braved the night chill.

  My car started on the second try, which wasn’t half bad. I used the tea to warm my insides until the heater started spewing something that resembled tepid air about ten minutes later. It took twenty more minutes until I found the address, which was in an upscale section of town, one I didn’t often have reason to visit. The house, however, was ordinary, smaller than all its neighbors.

  My phone rang before I turned off my engine, so I left it on as I answered. Tepid air was better than frigid. “Yes?”

  “Hi,” Shannon said. “Thought you’d like to know that the boyfriend did write the note and so far he remains our best suspect for Rosemary’s disappearance. As for the murder, we’ve checked out all the theater personnel, and so far we’ve found nothing odd. Our detectives are visiting each of them now to see if they turn up any more clues, but we have no reason yet to get search warrants for their homes. If it wasn’t for the imprint you read about the two other possible murders, I might want to pin the murder on Rosemary’s boyfriend as well. He knew the victim. Maybe he didn’t want her to take Rosemary’s place in the play.”

  “After making it so Rosemary couldn’t do it? Doesn’t seem likely. And even if he was around eight years ago, he would have been really young.”

  “Twenty, in fact, and I’ve seen murderers a decade younger. But in this case I happen to agree with you about it being unlikely. My gut tells me we’ve got the wrong guy.”