by Sharon Dunn
When she had found the stock certificates, she had pictured a happy ending: She would find Joan and return the stocks, so Joan could give them to Therese. So simple.
“Not everything wraps itself into a beautiful package with a tidy bow,” she whispered.
Inside, the phone rang, and Annie ran to answer it. “Annie,” Ian’s warm tenor voice came across the line. “How are you doing this morning?”
“Better than last night. I guess I’m still a little frazzled by everything that’s happened.”
“Listen, I wanted to give you the news before it hits the television and afternoon papers. It will at least be a regional story.”
“Yes?”
“Last night Douglas Emery confessed to killing Janet for the exact reasons that you suspected. The chief said it was OK if I told you, but I would appreciate it if you would keep a lid on it.”
Annie gripped the phone a little tighter. “Did Douglas say anything about what happened to the real Joan?”
“No, he hasn’t said anything. I just thought you should know about the confession ahead of time. Reporters might be coming by to ask you questions as soon as the story breaks.”
Facing a barrage of questions and reliving Douglas’s attack was the last thing she wanted to do. “Thanks, Ian. I’ll just have to make myself scarce.” She knew exactly where she would hide. Annie got her things together and headed for A Stitch in Time. As she turned on Maple Street, she thought about the news Ian had given her. If Douglas was capable of killing one woman in rage, could he have done the same to Joan?
Annie entered A Stitch in Time. Just seeing Mary Beth behind the counter made her less anxious. This store had such a familiar and welcoming feel to it.
Mary Beth looked up from her paperwork. “I heard you had a little excitement last night … another break-in.”
The Stony Point rumor mill was already turning. “Yes, and now I am hiding. Ian thinks that this story will go regional. I just don’t have the energy to deal with reporters’ questions right now.”
“Your secret is safe with me. You are welcome to hide out all day if you like.” Mary Beth’s response confirmed what Annie had thought all along. Mary Beth’s tendency to talk about other people’s problems wasn’t out of a desire to gossip, but because she cared about people. Mary Beth would respect her need for privacy. She was glad, too, that Mary Beth hadn’t pressed her about why a break-in would be a big news story, so she could keep Douglas’s confession under wraps.
“Is Kate here today?” Annie wandered around the store.
“She has the day off,” Mary Beth said.
Annie picked up some tangerine yarn. “I think I am done with layettes for a while. I’m going to start on an afghan.” Annie selected some yarns in bright spring colors and found a chair by the window. She had been working for about half an hour when Alice burst through the door.
“What is up with the big Portland news truck outside your house?”
“And good afternoon to you too,” said Annie. If the news trucks were showing up, reporters must have gotten wind of Douglas’s confession.
Alice took a seat beside her friend. “Sorry. There was a small thing in the police report about a man being arrested for breaking into a house on Ocean Drive. Is there something more to the story?”
Mary Beth rearranged the pattern books. “Annie is hiding out right now.”
“You’re welcome to hide with me if you like,” Annie said as she created a row of popcorn stitches.
Alice unzipped her handbag. “As a matter of fact, I did bring my cross-stitch with me.”
The two women worked in silence. Mary Beth put on a light instrumental CD. Annie enjoyed the feel of the sun streaming through the window and the good company.
Mary Beth returned from the storeroom and placed a box on the counter. “Estelle from Seaside came into the store yesterday. She sure would love to see all the women get together a couple of times a year.”
“Ian said that it would be nice if we made the gift to the hospital an annual event.” Annie placed her crochet work in her lap.
“Having a few get-togethers throughout the year would help ensure that we could pull off another project like that,” Alice added.
Annie took in a deep breath. “Doing another project like that sounds wonderful.”
“And next year, we might have a new batch of teen-agers.” Mary Beth opened the box of new inventory.
“With Janet’s death and everything that happened, I didn’t even have time to read the article about the dedication ceremony.”
“I saved the article.” Mary Beth skirted around to the other side of the counter and bent down. A moment later she popped her head up, holding a newspaper. “I thought it would be nice to get it framed and hang it up in the shop. I bought several copies.”
“Everything has been such a whirlwind. I don’t even know where I put my copy of the newspaper.” Annie rose from her seat. She took the newspaper, avoiding looking at the cover story.
“You can take one of my copies,” Mary Beth offered.
Annie flipped through the pages until she came to the full-page article. The reporter had taken half a dozen pictures. One picture of Taylor and Lily with Viola was particularly striking. The woman was sandwiched between the two girls, their heads pressed close together, all of them beaming.
Mary Beth winked at her. “You done good, kid.”
Alice pulled her thread through the cloth. “I think you have started a Stony Point tradition. Think of it, Annie, after you and I are gone, this tradition will live on.”
That idea appealed to her. A legacy of sorts. Just like Gram. Annie grabbed a scissors off the counter and cut the article out. “I don’t want to keep the whole paper, just this article.”
The women worked for several more hours. Business at the store was slow, with only a few customers. Annie didn’t recognize any of them, probably tourists. No danger of anyone letting the cat out of the bag and giving up her hiding place.
Annie held up the afghan she had started, pleased with her progress. “Do you suppose the newspeople are gone from Grey Gables by now?”
Alice checked her watch. “If you like, I can go back and be a spy for you. I’ll call you with a report.”
“Thanks.”
Alice left the shop. Ten minutes later, Annie rose to her feet. “I think I might need to stretch my legs. Thanks for letting me hide out.”
“Anytime,” said Mary Beth.
Annie had just stepped out onto the sidewalk when her cell phone rang.
“Agent Zero Zero, reporting in.” Alice’s exuberant voice came across the line.
Annie laughed. “How does it look on your end, Agent Zero Zero?”
“The Portland truck is gone, but there is another one here. I can’t tell where it is from,” Alice said.
“They can’t stay there forever. They have got to leave pretty soon to go do their evening news, don’t they?”
“That is what I was thinking. What do you say I treat you to either a late lunch or an early dinner, whatever you want to call it, at the Grand Avenue Fish House? They should be gone by the time we get done eating.”
“That sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you there.” Annie snapped her phone shut and headed to her car.
Since it was between the lunch and dinner hour, Annie and Alice enjoyed a nice quiet meal with great service. Only one other table in the entire restaurant was occupied.
“We seem to be making a habit of eating out when nobody else is.” Annie took a bite of her shrimp fettuccine. She pulled the article about the ceremony out of her purse and unfolded it.
“It’s a nice article, isn’t it?” Alice dipped her lobster in butter.
“Yes, the reporter did a great job of getting pictures of everyone involved.”
The women finished up dinner.
Alice put her napkin on the table. “Tell you what. Since we came in separate cars, why don’t I drive by the house and let you know if the rep
orters are gone.”
Annie shook her head. “What would I do without you?”
While Annie waited for news from Alice, she walked out on the pier, hoping to enjoy the coolness of the evening. Something niggled at the back of her mind. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The water was relatively calm tonight. The waves lapping against the shore created a comforting rhythm as the evening light waned.
Her cell phone rang.
“It’s all clear.” Alice seemed to be enjoying playing lookout.
“Thanks, Alice.” Annie drove home, unlocked her door, and stepped inside Grey Gables. It was still early enough that she could work some more on her afghan. She chose the library. Adding an outlet allowed her to have an additional lamp, which made it bright enough to see the details on her tiny stitches.
She worked until nearly ten o’clock, enjoying the comfort of Gram’s chair with Boots curled at her feet and the memories that flowed anytime she sat in this room. But as Annie went up to bed, she felt a sense of emptiness she couldn’t explain. Something felt incomplete. She couldn’t let go of the idea that there was some connection she needed to make to create a sense of finality.
22
The next morning Annie was in the kitchen drinking coffee and watching a hummingbird flit around her flowers when the doorbell rang.
She had counted on some intrepid reporter returning to get a statement from her. Today she felt ready to deal with the press. Annie walked down the hallway into the living room and swung the door open.
No news trucks were parked in her driveway, but a beige sedan was. Annie stared at the woman standing on her porch. The key ring she held indicated that her car was a rental. She was older, dressed stylishly in a royal blue pantsuit. Her red-leather handbag matched the red polish on her nails. Her gray hair fell in soft curls around her face. Her brown eyes revealed a sharpness that suggested intelligence.
Maybe the woman worked for a newspaper, not a television station. “Are you a reporter?”
The woman ignored her question. “Please forgive me for bothering you at such an early hour. I took the first flight out from Montreal and drove from Portland.”
Annie took a step back, feeling suddenly leery of the stranger. If she was a reporter, she didn’t act like it. “What is this about?”
“There is no easy way to say this.” The woman squared her shoulders. “I’m Joan Whitlock.”
Annie shook her head. Not this again. She started to close the door, but something stopped her.
The woman spoke calmly, as though responding to the inner turmoil her announcement had created for Annie. “I know this is a shock. And after what has happened to you, I don’t expect you to believe me. Even saying the name feels strange to me. You see, I haven’t been Joan Whitlock for years. I don’t have anything that could prove that I am Joan Whitlock.”
The woman’s calm demeanor kept Annie from closing the door. “Why are you back here now?”
“I’ve been living in Canada under a different name. We get some American stations up there, so I saw the news stories. I recognized Grey Gables. I am so sorry about your grandmother. She was a very special lady to me.”
Annie went numb, struggling to absorb what this woman was saying. “Why didn’t you come back sooner for those stock certificates?” Maybe Janet wouldn’t be dead.
“When I saw that Douglas was in jail, I knew it was finally safe to return.” An undercurrent of pain colored Joan’s voice when she spoke about Douglas.
Annie studied the woman in front of her. The defensiveness she had felt faded. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt.” Her instincts told her that this woman was who she said she was. “Do you want to come in and sit down and tell me the rest of this story? I’m dying to hear it.”
“I would be delighted.” Joan found a seat on the couch in the living room, and Annie took a chair opposite her.
“I know some of your story already. You came into town all those years ago with your pregnant daughter.”
“Douglas lived in Petersgrove. With Marie’s husband gone, I thought maybe Douglas would step up and be a father to his daughter and grandfather to the baby. I hadn’t seen him in years, and I guess I was hopeful he had changed. But he was worse than ever. His electrician business had gone under. He was an angry man when we were married and doing well, but now that his bad choices had left him financially destitute, he was much worse.”
A sense of compassion filled Annie for what Joan must have endured. “All these years, Douglas thought those stock certificates were made out to him.”
Joan folded her hands in her lap. “I told him they were. Because he made me so afraid, I would say anything to keep him from getting angry at me.”
“Why run away? Why change your identity?”
“Marie had married and moved away. Douglas was wild. He threatened me. I was afraid for my life. So I left Stony Point to finalize my disappearing act. Then when Marie was expecting the baby and her husband died, we reunited in Stony Point. But she was in no condition to travel so I left her here, intending to come back for her. But I was afraid for her. I was afraid for the baby. I didn’t contact my daughter for years, because if Douglas found out I was alive, he would come after both of us.”
“But you did get in touch with her eventually. She came back here for the stock certificates.”
“No, it was never about the stock certificates—not for me, anyway. Douglas thought if he could find the actual stock certificates with his name handwritten on them, he would have the legal leverage to cash them in. And I wasn’t Joan Whitlock anymore. I couldn’t cash them in.”
“So why did your daughter return to Stony Point?”
Joan lifted her chin and took a breath. “Marie came back to see if she could find out what happened to her daughter.” Joan hesitated for a moment. She spoke slowly, each word being painful to utter. “She had found out that the adoption agency in Portland had placed Therese with a family in Stony Point. She wasn’t going to cause trouble. She just wanted to see her.”
“But something happened,” Annie said.
“She must have run into Douglas in town. The accident report said she was driving very fast. She must have been terrified.”
Annie leaned forward and rested her hand on Joan’s. “I’m so sorry. You’ve suffered so much loss.”
“It hasn’t been easy.”
“And Gram wanted to help you.” Annie’s throat had grown tight with emotion. What this poor woman must have gone through to lose both her daughter and her granddaughter.
Joan sighed. “Your grandmother was such a support during a really hard time. I didn’t want to have the stock certificates with me. Douglas was stalking me.”
As Joan talked, a realization spread through Annie. The final piece of the puzzle fell into place. “But he’s in jail now. You are safe.”
“Yes, I can be Joan Whitlock again. All those years ago, I thought things were going to go differently. I was going to take care of things in New Hampshire so Douglas wouldn’t be able to find me, and then I would come back for my daughter and her baby, and retrieve the stock certificates from your grandmother. The three of us would have a nice life together.” She looked up, tears rimming her eyes.
“I can’t bring your daughter back, but there is something I might be able to do,” said Annie. “I’ll have to make some phone calls. Can you come by A Stitch in Time at about five o’clock on Wednesday? I know that means you’ll have to stay in town.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’ll let you know if I can’t pull things together, or if I’m wrong about a hunch I have.”
Annie offered Joan a hug at the door and then raced to the phone. She called Mary Beth at the store.
“Mary Beth, I am not going to make our Hook and Needle Club meeting today, but it’s for a good reason.”
“Oh, we will miss you. You have had so much excitement in the last few days. I am sure the ladies are hoping to be filled in.”
“I know. We’ll just have to do a twice-a-week thing and get together some other day this week.”
“I bet the ladies would love that.”
Annie hung up the phone and got to work.
23
The teen class was just wrapping up when Annie arrived at A Stitch in Time on Wednesday. A sense of anticipation threaded through her as she waited. She smiled at Erin, Mackenzie, and Vanessa.
Erin offered her an impulsive hug. “Thank you for everything. I’m going to be a volunteer at both the hospital and at Seaside.”
She brushed a strand of Erin’s hair behind her ear. “It was my pleasure to be a part of the class. I’m sure I will be dropping in from time to time, especially as we get ready to do another hospital project.”
Even though the class had officially broken up and most of the teens had left, Lily and Taylor continued chatting as they worked on their projects.
Lily’s mother came into the store and offered Annie a knowing glance.
“Lily, I have a surprise for you,” Annie said. “I spoke to your mother earlier, and I have her permission.” She’d spent most of Tuesday talking to nurses and working with Lily’s mother to get records.
Lily’s gaze darted around the room. A nervous smile graced her face. “I hope this is good.”
“Yes, it’s good,” said Lily’s mother.
“Can Taylor stay with me? She’s my friend.”
“Sure.”
Joan stepped into the shop. She was dressed stylishly as always, but a look of anxiety clouded her expression. “I’m here,” she said softly.
Annie didn’t say anything. She only turned slightly to direct Joan’s attention to Lily sitting in the chair, holding her knitting.
Joan let out a gasp.
A look of confusion crossed Lily’s face.
Annie had seen the resemblance the moment she put the photograph of the younger Joan beside the newspaper photo of Lily. “Lily, this is your Grandmother Joan.”
“My grandma. You mean—?” She stood up.
