Unveiling the Past

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Sean stood and slipped his thumbs into his trouser pockets. “Wanna show me what you and Dane covered with the Dunsbrook case the past couple days?”

  Farber’s thunderous expression bellowed no, but he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get to it. Like Cap said, the sooner it’s done, the sooner we can be rid—” He coughed. “The sooner we can get back to normal around here.”

  Sean had been praying to find the murderer for weeks, but he sent up another, even more fervent request for answers. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he wasn’t any keener on working with Farber than Farber was on working with him.

  Fort Smith, Arkansas

  Kevin

  Kevin braced his hand on the window frame and stared at the street below. Traffic flowed in a regular pattern—idle and drive, idle and drive—guided by the stoplights, the same way it did every day. But for him, the world had come to a halt. Well, not a halt. More like a fast reverse. Backward in time to the day pretty Diane DeFord knocked the wind out of him.

  March 1, 1985

  Little Rock, Arkansas

  Something nudged him in the ribs and then yanked the covers. Kevin grunted into full wakefulness. He squinted past a dull throb behind his eyes and glared blearily at Diane. Even with her makeup smeared and her dark hair spread across the pillow in tangled strands, she was beautiful. What his friends called a hottie. She was smart, too—dean’s list every semester. And she’d chosen him.

  His aggravation at the rude awakening faded as quick as a blink. “You goin’ back to your dorm?”

  She shook her head and pushed hair away from her face. “Not yet.”

  “Good.” He rolled sideways, slipped his arms around her, and pulled her close. He kissed her hair, then aimed a kiss at her lips.

  She turned her face aside. “Kev, go brush your teeth, huh? I have something important to tell you.”

  He grinned and tightened his grip. “I don’t much feel like talking, but I do feel like—”

  She shoved his chest. Hard. “No. Go brush your teeth, okay?”

  Anger swelled. Who did she think she was, pushing him away? But nature was calling, and he needed to answer. Grumbling, so she’d know for sure he wasn’t happy, he crawled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. How many beers had he consumed at the party last night? Mom would say if he couldn’t remember, it’d been too many. Dad would say if it was less than six, he wasn’t worth his salt. Kevin always made sure he was worth his salt and then some. The liquor had erased his memory of much of the evening, but the fact that Diane was in his bed let him know the night hadn’t been a bust. He didn’t intend to waste the morning, either.

  He removed the sour-feet taste from his mouth with mint-flavored paste, then returned to the bedroom. Ignoring the throb in his head, he flopped across the bed and nuzzled Diane’s sweat-moist neck.

  “Kevin, guess what?”

  Hadn’t he said he wasn’t interested in talking? He slid his hand under her head, his fingers catching in her hair, and lifted her face. “Can’t guess.” He closed his eyes and leaned in.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  He went as still as a mannequin. He’d heard her wrong. He must’ve heard her wrong. “What?”

  She laughed—the shrillest, most uneasy laugh he’d ever heard. “I’m pregnant. Isn’t it wonderful? We’re gonna have a baby.”

  Fear roared like the sound of ocean waves beating against rocks. His mouth went dry, and he jerked away from her. “What makes you think it’s mine?”

  She sat up and scooted on her bottom to the headboard. Her hurt-filled gaze locked on his face. “I haven’t been with anyone else.” She swallowed. Tears swam in her brown eyes. “Ever.”

  He couldn’t say the same, but this pregnancy announcement was a first. He swung his feet to the floor and bent low, elbows on knees, fingers in his hair, palms massaging his throbbing temples. “This can’t be real…”

  Hands—warm and trembling—curled over his shoulders. Her breath whisked past his ear. “I know it’s a shock. It took me by surprise, too.”

  Kevin shrugged loose. Questions he knew his father would ask poured out of his mouth. “How’d it happen? Aren’t you smart enough to use birth control? Of all the—”

  “I’m not the only one who could take precautions.” Her tone changed from sweet to abrasive. “You—”

  He jumped up and spun to face her. He jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t you dare pin this on me.” She scrambled to the headboard and huddled there. He leaned in, fury and panic making his chest burn as if a bonfire had ignited under his skin. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Thinking you’d get me to marry you. My family has money—is that what you’re after?”

  Shock registered on her face. “No! I don’t need your money. I thought…I thought…” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she reached for him. “Kevin, please, we’re gonna be parents. I need you to—”

  He lurched away from her outstretched hand, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna be a parent. No way. Not now. Not with you.”

  She covered her quivering lips with the back of her fist. Tears rolled, and sobs shook her entire frame. It took every bit of self-control he possessed not to gather her in his arms and cry with her. But he had to stay strong. He had to think. Dad always told him to keep the upper hand. To never get caught with his guard down. Dad would call him every kind of fool if he let some unplanned pregnancy destroy the plans they’d made for his future.

  He lowered his gaze to the carpet, blocking out the sight of his distraught girlfriend, and forced his beer-soaked brain to function. What would Dad do? “Eliminate the competition.” The voice boomed through his mind as loudly as if Dad were standing in the room.

  Kevin sucked in a fortifying breath, organized his thoughts, then slowly rounded the bed and sat next to Diane’s feet. “Di, honey…” He waited until her brown eyes shifted and met his. He smiled and ran the pad of his thumb down her tear-stained cheek. “Do you love me?”

  She nodded fast. Tears made fresh trails past her puckered lips. A girl so pretty shouldn’t be all red eyed and blotchy faced. She shouldn’t ruin her perfect figure with a bulging belly, either. What he wanted was best for both of them.

  He cupped her jaw and stroked her lower lip with his thumb. “Then you’d do anything for me, right?”

  She tipped her head, pressing her cheek into his palm, and gulped. “Yes. Anything.”

  “I want you to get rid of it.”

  She jolted, shaking the whole bed, and stared at him. “W-what?”

  “Get rid of it. We aren’t ready to be parents. And you can’t be far along, right?” He settled his hand on her belly. Completely flat. Nobody would ever have to know he’d been stupid enough to get her pregnant. “It’s not worth ruining our lives for, is it?”

  She flung his hand aside and scuttled to the opposite side of the bed. She stood and gaped at him. “No. I can’t. I can’t kill it.”

  He huffed. “People do it all the time. That’s why abortion’s legal—so you don’t have to have a baby if you don’t want to.”

  She clutched her stomach and shook her head. “But I…I want to have it.”

  He glared at her, daring her to change her mind.

  She whispered, “With you.”

  She didn’t get it, did she? He couldn’t have a baby. Dad would kill him if he shamed his folks with an out-of-wedlock baby. And a shotgun wedding was out of the question. How could he finish school if he had a wife and kid to support? He stomped past her to the closet and grabbed jeans and a button-up shirt. He dressed, watching her out of the corners of his eyes. She put on her jeans and sweater, then sat on the edge of the bed, hugging her shoes. Staring at the floor. Biting her lip. Soft whimpers begged him to comfort her, but he couldn’t. He had to hold his ground. As he tied the laces on his sneakers, he threw a snarling look in her direction.

>   “If you have it, it’ll be yours. Not mine. If you decide to get an abortion, I’ll pay for it. Then we can keep going out. But if you have it, you’re on your own. Don’t expect anything from me.”

  She tightened her arms around her shoes. “I…I…”

  “Make up your mind, Diane. Do you want a kid, or do you want me?” He held his breath, waiting—hoping—for her to make the right choice.

  Without answering, she bolted past him and out the door. Her sobs carried from the hallway to his ears. Stung, he sank onto the edge of the bed. She hadn’t even met the kid, and she picked it over him. How much more of a loser could he be?

  Present Day

  Fort Smith, Arkansas

  Kevin slapped the window frame, snorted, and returned to his desk. He slumped into his chair and propped up his head with his fist. Diane had been smart to dump him. He’d proven himself a loser in relationship after relationship. First with Julie and her son, Kip, who called him Dad. Then Sherry, then Veronica, and finally Tawny. Every marriage had crumbled. Or combusted.

  He had his thriving business, though—evidence that he wasn’t a total failure. So he might as well get to work. He opened the file, slid his glasses onto his nose, and leaned over the stack of pages.

  The acquisition of the four-story building in the heart of the Las Vegas Strip promised to be his most lucrative deal to date. Even though he hadn’t seen the property in person, online photographs of the loft apartment and various offices on the lower three levels looked good. Once his agent had finished a personal inspection and deemed the property acceptable, he would hand over a check, and then—

  His frame jerked as if someone poked him with a fork. He tapped keys and brought up his email. He checked the message from Diane DeFord. Her email signature indicated she worked in Las Vegas.

  “I would appreciate a response at your earliest convenience.”

  Wheels turned in his mind. Why pay an agent to inspect the property when he could do it himself and maybe have the chance to inspect Diane, too? He’d also be out of town when her daughter was in Fort Smith, which would buy him some time to decide whether he really wanted to meet the girl Diane had refused to abort.

  He clicked Reply and began to type.

  Nine

  Little Rock, Arkansas

  Meghan

  Sean didn’t utter a word during their drive home Friday, so Meghan didn’t talk, either. A part of her wanted to tell him she was sorry he’d gotten stuck with Tom Farber. Another part wanted to thank him for not asking Cap to partner her with the crass agent. But most of her was so disappointed he hadn’t chosen to stay with her that she couldn’t get the other words to come out. She’d never had a partner other than Sean, and she’d never wanted a different one.

  If only the captain had waited until she and Sean closed the Dunsbrook case before bringing the Menke case to the table. Then she wouldn’t have to sit here in this uncomfortable silence with her husband. But she wouldn’t have to sit in silence if she’d asked to see the Dunsbrook case through, either.

  She gritted her teeth and stared out the window at the green landscape. They’d made their decision, the captain’s pronouncement finalized it, and now they had to follow through. She hoped they could do so without freezing each other out.

  Sean pulled into the driveway and hit the garage door opener. Meghan started to ask if grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup—one of the comfort meals of her childhood—would be okay for supper. Her cell phone’s ring interrupted, and Mom’s face showed on the screen. She pressed Accept Call and put the phone to her ear while Sean drove slowly into the garage.

  “Hi, Mom. Are you celebrating?”

  Mom laughed. “You know me well.”

  “How could I forget last-day-of-school festivities?” When Meghan was a kid, they’d gone out for ice cream to celebrate the close of a school year. Mom didn’t eat dairy products anymore, but she might buy herself a half pint of the vegan substitute made with cashew milk and bananas.

  Sean parked the SUV and turned off the ignition. He pointed to the door leading to their utility room and mouthed, “I’m going in.” She nodded, and he headed inside. She popped her door open for ventilation but stayed put.

  “Before I celebrate, though, I’ve got an email you need to hear.”

  Chill bumps broke out over Meghan’s arms. “From my father?” How strange to hear herself use the title. The word never rolled from her tongue but emerged stilted and overly formal. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say dad. Dad denoted relationship, and she had none.

  “Yes.” Mom’s reply was clipped, too, as if she’d prefer not to continue. “Do you want me to read it to you or give you the Reader’s Digest abridged version?”

  Meghan’s stomach growled, reminding her that she and Sean needed supper. “Abridged is fine, but you can forward it to me and I’ll read the whole thing later.”

  Mom huffed a laugh. “Well, it won’t take long. He was never much of a conversationalist, and it appears that transfers over into written communication, too. Basically he says not to bother trying to look him up when you’re in Fort Smith because he won’t be there. He’s flying to—you won’t believe this—Las Vegas to finalize a business transaction, and it might take a week or two.”

  Meghan sagged against the seat, torn between deliverance and disappointment. “If he’s gonna be in Vegas, will you try to see him?”

  Silence fell at the other end of the call. A silence so lengthy that Meghan wondered if the connection had been lost. She hopped down from the SUV and stepped out onto the driveway. “Mom?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “No. Just thinking. He suggested meeting up while he’s in town—to talk about you, he said—but I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

  “Then don’t.” Guilt about Sean having to spend time with Tom prompted the firm statement. “I can take over communicating with him from this point on. He knows now that I’m out here and interested in connecting with him, so the surprise element is gone. You can move completely out of the picture.”

  “Can I?”

  Meghan wasn’t sure if Mom was asking permission or questioning her ability.

  A heavy sigh met Meghan’s ear. “I need to think it over. Either way, at least you know not to waste your time going by his office. I’m sorry about the timing of his trip.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” The evening sun was surprisingly bright. And warm. Meghan ducked into the shaded area right inside the garage opening. “But it’s probably just as well. I need to focus on the case, and meeting him would distract me. Especially since it won’t be Sean with me in Fort Smith. My new partner probably wouldn’t want me wandering off on a personal errand while we’re on the job.”

  “New partner? Why aren’t you investigating with Sean?”

  Meghan inwardly kicked herself. She hadn’t meant to tell Mom or Grandma about her and Sean dividing up. “It’s only temporary.” She forced a light tone she hoped Mom would accept as legitimate. “Sean is going to finish our old case while I investigate the new one. So the captain split Tom Farber and Greg Dane, too. Tom will work with Sean, and I’ve got Greg.”

  “Are you all right with that?”

  The worried tone let Meghan know she hadn’t fooled her mother. She laughed. “Truthfully, not a hundred percent, but as I said, it’s temporary. Might actually turn out to be a good thing—it’ll let us see how well we function independently. When we open our own agency, there’ll be times we’ll probably have to juggle more than one case. This will give us some practice.”

  “So you’re still planning to leave the department and branch out on your own?”

  “We’re waiting for the right time.” Why did she feel as if she’d lied to Mom? She pushed off from the house and headed for the door. “I should
get supper fixed. Congrats on finishing another school year. And thanks for playing go-between for Kevin Harrison and me. I’ll take it from here so you can bow out.”

  Kendrickson, Nevada

  Diane

  Diane placed her phone on the end table and smiled at her mother, who sat in her favorite chair with an open book in her lap but her gaze pinned on Diane. “Now that I’m done talking to Meghan…have you decided where you want to go for dinner?”

  “The Salad Palace for one of their avocado-and-tomato concoctions. But before we go, what was that about Meghan getting a new partner? Why isn’t she working with Sean?”

  Diane swallowed a chuckle. Eighty-three years old and Mother’s ears worked as well as a teenager’s. Diane needed to close herself in her bedroom if she wanted a private conversation. “It’s a temporary thing—for one case, I think.”

  “Oh.” Mother closed the book with a snap. “Well, then, I won’t worry about it. But you need to forgive Kevin Harrison.”

  The abrupt change in topic sent Diane’s head spinning. “What?”

  “You heard me. You need to forgive Kev—”

  Diane waved her hands. “Yes, yes, I heard you. That what was rhetorical. I meant, what makes you think I haven’t?”

  Mother tipped her head and gave Diane a “you’re not fooling me” look. “Your hesitance to see him face to face, of course. If you’d forgiven him, you wouldn’t perceive him as a threat.”

  Diane sat straight up at the edge of the sofa cushion. “A threat?” From her spot on the corner of the sofa, Duchess began to whine. Diane automatically reached out and toyed with the dog’s ears. “Honestly, the things you say.”

  Mother shrugged. “I’m old. I might not have a chance to talk tomorrow, so I have to say what needs saying today.”

  “Oh, Mother, you’re too stubborn to die.”

  “Don’t flatter me.” Mother’s still-bright brown eyes twinkled. “Seriously, though. Think about all the things you’ve overcome by meeting them head on. You pushed past your fear and chose to have a baby all by yourself. You ignored the naysayers and finished college while caring for a newborn and toddler. Then you single-handedly raised a wonderful daughter. You give of yourself every day to your students, inspiring them to be their very best. You’re strong and courageous. And yes, stubborn. Like me.”