What She Gave Away (Santa Barbara Suspense Book 1)

by Catharine Riggs

  “So?”

  “So I’ve spoken to everyone in the local homeless community. Not one of them will admit to being involved or point a finger at anyone else.”

  “Why would they?”

  “There’s a ten-thousand-dollar reward.”

  “Well, if you’re suggesting I was involved, you’re wrong.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” I set down my mug with a thump. “So we’ve had our chat. Are you good? Can I leave?”

  “I have something I want to show you.” He takes a paper from his pocket, unfolds it, and pushes it my way. “I assume you know about this.”

  I stare at the birth certificate long enough to work out my next move. “How’d you find it?”

  “It wasn’t hard.”

  “Have you told anyone?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to speak to you first.”

  I sigh and bat my eyelashes like I’m a sexy actress. “Yes, I suppose there is something I’d like to tell you.”

  He leans forward. “Go ahead.”

  I dig into my purse and extract a copy of a photo. I hold it up, and Marco’s eyes grow wide. “Welcome to your past,” I say.

  “What the hell?”

  I’m dangling a copy of a photo of a slutty-looking girl standing next to a twentysomething Marco. He grabs the paper from my hands and rips it into pieces. I almost want to laugh at the emotions scurrying across his face. “Of course, I have plenty of those,” I say.

  “What’s this about?”

  “The mistake men like you make is that you don’t understand how teenagers work. They can’t keep a secret, even a special one. That’s especially true in juvie, where the girls are bored and have a limited supply of friends.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No? Well, let me help you remember. You see, I had a crush on you back then. You were so sweet. So handsome. You acted like you cared. Not that I was surprised when you chose Mindy over me. I wasn’t an idiot. She had that killer body. Fourteen going on twenty-one. She was a total flirt, and you took the bait. It didn’t take long before she began bragging about how you’d chosen her as your gal. She had quite the mouth. Got into the dirty, grimy details. For instance, I happen to know you preferred her from behind. I remember that clearly because I so wanted to be Mindy. Every night I’d pray you’d take me in that way.”

  “You’re disgusting.” Marco shoves his chair back and stands. “This is total bullshit.”

  “Sit down,” I order. “You’re the one who wanted this chat, and we’re going to finish it or else.”

  Marco hesitates and then drops in his chair. I know he wants to kill me. There’s that look in his eyes. Plus, his hands are bunched into fists.

  “Mindy didn’t just spew to me,” I continue. “There were a half dozen girls who knew what was up.”

  “It’s all lies.”

  “You keep telling yourself that. Anyway, you’ll be interested to know I found Mindy. Are you surprised? I was. What with the wild life she led as a teen, I was sure she’d be dead by now. Unfortunately, things haven’t gone well for her. She’s not so pretty anymore. She lives in a run-down mobile home in Palmdale with three mousy kids and a meth-head boyfriend.”

  I take a moment to enjoy the look on Marco’s face. “I drove all the way out to see Mindy,” I continue. “I wanted to chat with her about old times. You’ll be glad to know she doesn’t hold a grudge. She has fond memories of that year. Doesn’t view what you did as rape, although others might have a different opinion. A man in your position of power? A policeman, for god’s sake. I’d say that’s the worst. Anyway, she’s not seeking revenge. But the meth has taken a toll on her finances. She’ll do anything for a few extra bucks, so I took her on a shopping spree at Kmart. She was so appreciative she wrote out a statement, and I had her signature witnessed by a notary. Has an official stamp on it and everything. I made a copy for you.”

  I slide over the grimy envelope I’ve been carrying in my purse for weeks. “Of course, the original is hidden someplace special, someplace you’ll never find. I’ve also left a couple of copies with a good friend. She’s instructed to give one to your supervisor and one to the local paper should anything happen to me.”

  Marco pulls the statement from the envelope, scans the page, and sets it down. “So what do you want?”

  “Your silence in exchange for mine.”

  “That’s all?”

  “And you’ll stop with your snooping. You’ll leave well enough alone.”

  “How do I know you’ll stick to your end of the bargain?”

  “As far as I can tell, this is even stephen. You keep your mouth shut, and I’ll do the same.”

  Marco stares at me with so much hate my heart speeds up. I finish off my beer and set it down. “Well?”

  “I don’t think I have much choice in the matter.”

  “You’re right. You don’t.”

  “I’ll agree to keep quiet, but first I’d like to ask a few questions.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Did you download porn on Mike Simms’s computer?”

  I shrug. “Next question.”

  “And spam your coworker’s email?”

  I shrug again. “Anything else?”

  “How about your father’s death? You have a hand in that?”

  “The sperm donor? Not his death, no.”

  “But other things.”

  “I may have pushed things along, but he deserved it.”

  “You filed the complaints that led to the SAR?”

  “Would it be wrong if I did?”

  “But why?”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not following.”

  “What does it matter? But I can tell you this. That was no suicide. Richard Wright was murdered.”

  Marco’s eyes open wide. “Who did it?”

  “I can’t say. But the murderer is out there. You just have to look. Now, I’ve got to get going. Do we have a deal?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No.” I shove my chair back and stand. “You’ll be happy to know I’ll be going away soon. I don’t like it here anymore.”

  “Back to Bakersfield?”

  “Somewhere new. I’m going to start over. Find a new life. I don’t want to be me anymore.” I start to walk away.

  “You can’t do that, you know,” he calls out, his voice sounding mournful and sad.

  I pause and look back. “I can’t do what?”

  “You can’t leave your past behind. It’ll turn up one day.”

  I stare at him, a defeated man. What’s the worst? The very worst? Was it digging up Mindy? Or forcing him to face his true self?

  Kathi

  September 2, 2016

  The clock strikes five. I’ve been in Leo’s office for over an hour. I want to get out of here and go home. Curl up in a ball and drink myself into a coma and never wake up again.

  The clock ticks away as I stare at Leo’s empty leather chair. I don’t want to think about Rich or Arthur. How many ways can I be betrayed? And Jack? I’ve tried calling. I’ve tried texting. I’ve “liked” his Instagram feed. Reached out to him on Facebook again and again until he blocked me. I wish I could see him and hear his voice, touch his hair. I wish he would listen to what I have to say. I’m ready to admit I made a mistake, the biggest mistake of my life.

  Why didn’t I ever think about you, Jack? Why didn’t I worry about how you’d feel? Why didn’t I tell you about the family secret? I’ve done so much wrong I can’t make it right. I’m paying for my sins right now.

  I pull my wallet from my purse and retrieve a fading photo of Aunt Genny and me taken at the Iowa State Fair. We’re dressed in old-fashioned costumes. I’m wearing a frilly farm dress with an oversized bonnet that swallows my thirteen-year-old face. Aunt Genny stands beside me dressed in a Civil War uniform, a fake shotgun resting in her arms. I remember attempting to smile until the photographer told me not to grin. He said in
the old days people didn’t smile in their photos. I remember thinking that was fine because my smile was fake anyway. My parents were gone. I might never smile again. I feel the same way now.

  I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand and return the photo to my wallet. Does my baby Rose ever feel this way? Has she ever felt lost and alone?

  “Here you go,” Leo says, returning with two glasses of water.

  “I don’t want any.”

  “Well, take it anyway. It’ll do you good.”

  I take a few sips, my hands trembling. Water splashes across my dress. “Thank you,” I say, tears blurring my eyes.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “I’ll be fine.” I set down my glass.

  Leo hands me a box of tissues and settles back into his chair. “About Jack,” he says.

  “What about him?” I can’t help but expect the worst.

  “He’s asked me to pass on his plans to you.”

  “Plans?”

  “Yes. It’s been a tough year for him too. Not only did he lose his father, but his TV series just got canceled. He’s decided to make some major changes in his life.”

  I swallow. “Major?”

  “He and his girlfriend have sold their belongings. They leave for India tonight. They plan to spend a year living in an ashram. They’ll be out of contact during that time.”

  “He’s giving up his career?”

  “For the time being, yes.”

  “And he has a girlfriend?”

  “Alisa. He met her at yoga class.”

  “He does yoga?”

  “Apparently. He said he needs time to find himself. His father’s death has been a huge blow. And the accusations have only made things worse.”

  “But India? An ashram?” I start breathing hard. I can barely catch my breath. “Why would he do that? Why would he give up his life in Hollywood and move so far away?”

  “I think you know.” Leo pulls off his glasses and gives his eyes a good rub. “Jack told me about the family secret, about his father’s long-ago affair. The secret of his half sister. He’s terribly upset—and rightly so.”

  There’s a whooshing in my ears. I want to run and hide. But if there ever was a time to tell the truth, that time would be now. “There is no half sister,” I say.

  “Now, Kathi—”

  I take a deep breath and clear my throat. “There’s no half sister because . . . because the child we gave away . . . well . . . she was my child too.”

  Silence washes over the room. Tick. Tick. Tick. Leo’s mouth opens and closes like the jaws of a beached fish. “So she was born before Jack? Before you two were married?”

  “No,” I say in a tiny voice. “She’s two years younger than Jack.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I clench my hands together. “You see, I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. I was young. Stupid. Rich wanted to lead a certain kind of life, and I just nodded and followed along.”

  Leo shakes his head. “You gave up your daughter because . . . ? Why don’t you help me here?”

  I open my mouth to blame Rich, but the truth clogs my throat. I have to stop living in denial. It’s led me down a terrible path. “We moved to Reno right after college when Rich took his first banking job. Jack was born shortly after.” I’m trembling to my toes. “He was a difficult baby, and Rich was rarely home. I was lonely and depressed and thought another baby might be the answer. Rich absolutely refused. I stopped taking the pill anyway and got pregnant. By the time he found out, it was too late for an abortion. He gave me an ultimatum, and I caved.”

  “So it was Rich’s fault.” Disgust consumes Leo’s face. “You think you know someone, and then you don’t.”

  I straighten my shoulders and look Leo directly in the eye. “No. In the end it was my choice. I agreed to let her go.”

  “Your choice?”

  I work my hands together until they feel ripped and raw. “The adoption couldn’t have happened if I hadn’t signed the papers.”

  “So Rich forced you?”

  “Manipulated? Yes. Forced? No.” Tears stream down my face, and I don’t try to stop them. “In the end . . . well . . . in the end I didn’t want her. I didn’t want my baby Rose.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  “It’s true. She was big, and, well . . . she was different. She didn’t look like the other baby girls. Rich told me the doctors were worried that there might be health problems, possibly a genetic issue. Looking back, I think he lied. He also told me he’d changed his mind and we could have a second child. He gave me the choice of settling for Rose or choosing a future baby. I rolled the dice and chose the future. I chose wrong.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Two weeks later I came down with a horrible infection—no chance for babies after that. And you know what? I didn’t once complain because I knew I deserved it. I had no right to a second child.”

  Leo refuses to look at me. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  “So you see”—I rush on—“it wasn’t just Rich. I did something terrible. And now I want to right that wrong. But I need your help.”

  He shakes his head. “So you gave your child away because she looked . . . different? Tell me you were deathly ill or that your marriage was broken. That’s something I can comprehend.”

  I drop my head in my hands. “I know it sounds horrible—”

  “It doesn’t just sound horrible. It is horrible. Honestly, Kathi. How do you live with yourself?”

  I fix my gaze on my lap. “I’ll tell you how you live with yourself. You pretend that it never happened. You lock the entire incident away. And that’s what we did. That’s what I did. For close to three decades we never spoke of our child. And then Rich died, and somehow Jack got wind of our secret, and I’ve been forced to face my past.”

  “To clarify, Jack learned of only one part of your secret.”

  “Yes. He thinks he has a half sister. He doesn’t know the full truth.”

  “I find this hard to believe.” Leo’s voice has grown stone cold.

  “I understand if you hate me. I hate myself. But now I want to fix my mistake. Start over. I want my daughter back in my life.”

  “I would say the odds of that are next to impossible.”

  “But why? I’ve heard stories about adopted families finding each other. They seem to live happily ever after.”

  “Those searches were different than yours. They didn’t end with the discovery of an intact family that willingly gave up a child.”

  I focus on the gilded angels perched on the edge of the clock. “You’re judging me.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. Your understanding. Or at the very least, your help. I just want to find my baby girl. Make up for the lost years. Maybe she’ll find it in her heart to forgive me. But I need your help. Please? I want to find my baby Rose.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “I’m begging you.”

  “I’ll have to think it over.”

  I stare at Leo, comprehension dawning. I think I made a mistake. There will be no forgiveness coming. No assistance. There’s no upside to confessing my sins. “All right.” I stand and stumble out of the room and down the hallway, a knife stuck in my heart.

  Crystal

  September 2, 2016

  “Can I come over?” Mimi begs. “Please. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

  “It’s only been a week, Mimi.”

  I’ve just spent an hour after work at the library with Mimi nipping at my heels. I haven’t told her, but I gave my two weeks’ notice today. I’m done with Santa Barbara. Done with Bakersfield. I’m going to move to a place where I can reinvent myself. Somewhere cheap and warm with a large population so I can hide the old Crystal away. The new Crystal will be different. Thinner. Smarter. Nicer. There’ll be no more playing the game. I’ve narrowed my search to El Paso and Tucson. Either should give me what I need.

  George was not happy with
my resignation, but of course he understood. Told me that if he was young enough to start over, he would do the very same thing. I accepted the reference letter he wrote for me, but I’ll never use it. I intend to change my name and cut all ties with my past.

  I’m going to road trip my way to my new life, so this morning I had my Civic’s threadbare tires replaced. I picked up the car from the mechanic at noon and left it at a nearby parking garage. It’ll be a luxury not to have to walk home on a sweltering evening when the Santa Anas blow through.

  “Please,” Mimi begs, tugging at my sleeve. “We could watch TV and eat popcorn. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  I feel bad about leaving Mimi behind, but there’s no room for her in my new life. I have to take care of myself. I don’t plan to tell her today. Maybe next week or the week after that. Or maybe I’ll just disappear. Here today, gone tomorrow.

  “Okay,” I say. “We’ll watch a movie at my house, but you have to shower first. You know I hate that homeless smell.”

  “Yay.” Mimi spins like a top with her hands in the air. “But I smell better today, don’t I? The shelter has really nice showers.”

  It’s true. Mimi has been cleaner since she scored a bed at a transitional women’s shelter. Still, I’m tired and was looking forward to a quiet night, but it seems mean hearted to send her away.

  “I love you this much,” Mimi says with a giggle, spreading her thin arms wide.

  “I like you too.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “That makes me so happy.”

  “Good. Now, let’s go.” We head into the shadows of the multistory parking garage, and Mimi taps me on the back. “Look over there,” she whispers. She points at the woman who stands wailing at the far entrance to the garage. Rich’s red Corvette is hitched to a black tow truck. The driver ignores her cries.

  “Why would they take her car?” Mimi asks.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

  That’s not quite true. I pulled the wife’s credit report last month, and it confirmed what I had guessed—the woman’s a walking financial disaster. No surprise the Corvette’s getting repossessed. She’ll lose all her cars soon enough.