Suspicious Origin

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Suspicious Origin Page 4

by MacDonald, Patricia


  “Thanks,” said Britt, although she couldn’t help wondering what this girl was doing here, looking so at home at this moment of crisis.

  Alec switched on a couple of lamps against the fading light of the afternoon. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing toward one of the armchairs. “J us t move that box out of your way.”

  Britt set the box on the floor and sat down in the chair.

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do with all this junk,” Alec sighed. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”

  “No,” Britt said. “Your directions were perfect.”

  “Good. I couldn’t remember what I told you,” he said.

  “So, do I have this right? This is the first time you two have even met each other?” Lauren asked, sounding incredulous.

  “I’m afraid so,” said Britt.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” said Alec. “Anybody want something?”

  “No, no thanks,” said Britt.

  “Lauren?” he asked.

  “No thanks, Alec,” she said.

  Lauren watched him go, her head cocked to one side, her gaze pensive. Then she turned to Britt. “So, you live in Boston?” she asked. “I grew up there. My folks live there.”

  “Really,” said Britt. “How did you end up here?”

  “I love to ski. And I got a pretty good job working for Alec. What kind of work do you do? Alec mentioned something about television.”

  “My job?” said Britt. “I’m the producer of a talk show.”

  “Have I seen it?” Lauren asked.

  “Donovan Smith Tonight?”

  Lauren frowned. “Oh yeah. I think I’ve heard of it,” she said doubtfully. She shook her wavy, dark hair. “So… Alec says you’re not married.”

  “No,” said Britt.

  “Married to your career,” said Lauren sympathetically.

  Britt forced herself to smile back. She was wearing her customary wrinkled pants and turtleneck, and she hadn’t even bothered to put on lipstick after the long drive. “I wouldn’t go that far. I like my job,” said Britt.

  Alec returned to the living room with a long-necked bottle of beer and took a swig. Then he set it down on the mantel.

  He turned to Britt. “Lauren brought over my suit. The one suit I have left. I’d picked it up from the dry cleaners and never brought it home from the office. Luckily.”

  Luckily? Britt thought.

  “And the pictures. I brought the pictures,” Lauren reminded him.

  “Right. We lost all our pictures, all our albums…and we needed a photo to use…” He stopped in midsentence and swallowed hard, his eyes tearing up. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Alec took a deep breath. “For the services,” he said.

  “They’re going to put the photo up in the church because there’s no body,” Lauren explained.

  “No body?” Britt exclaimed.

  “They had to take Greta’s body to the Mid-State Medical Center to be autopsied,” said Alec.

  “Why are they doing an autopsy?” Britt asked.

  Alec sighed. “Ray… Chief Stern said it’s normal in any kind of violent or accidental death. Anyway, there’s no telling when we’ll get her back. I didn’t want to wait on the funeral service. For Zoe’s sake,” he said.

  “I understand,” Britt murmured, ashamed now at her own pettiness, questioning Lauren’s presence here. Judging from the generous outpouring of food, books and clothes in the scattered boxes, Greta and her family obviously had a lot of people who cared about them.

  “It’s such a tragedy,” said Lauren. “I don’t know how Alec and Zoe are coping.”

  “Where is Zoe?” Britt asked, looking around.

  “She’s asleep upstairs,” Alec said. “I just got her home from the hospital this morning. She’s worn out.”

  Instantly, Britt felt guilty. His tone made her feel as if her presence here would be putting an excessive burden on the already exhausted child. “I’m sure she is,” Britt said.

  Alec stood, fidgeting, and then his gaze fell on the fireplace. “Maybe I’ll make a fire.” He crouched down in front of the hearth and transferred logs from the basket to the hearth. “It’s chilly in here,” he said.

  Britt wondered for a moment if Zoe might be upset at the sight of fire, after her ordeal, but she kept the thought to herself.

  Alec struck a long match and held it out in front of him, staring at the flickering flame. He touched the flame to the newspapers he had wadded up in the hearth, and sat back on his heels as the flames raced up the paper to the kindling he had tee-peed over it. All three of them watched the fire start, and the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence as if, after such a brief interlude, there was nothing left to say. Britt could feel a headache forming around her eyes. What am I doing here? she thought. I don’t belong here. And then she reminded herself of her purpose. Zoe.

  Alec jabbed at the wood in the hearth with a wrought iron poker. Then he replaced it abruptly with the other hanging tools.

  “Would you mind checking to see if Zoe’s awake? I’m so anxious to meet her,” Britt said.

  Alec frowned. “She’s not going to be in much of a mood to meet anyone.”

  “She’s the reason I came,” Britt said stubbornly.

  “Didn’t you come because of your sister?” Lauren asked.

  “Of course,” Britt said.

  “All right, all right,” Alec said with a sigh, and walked out of the room.

  “It’s incredible. How long since you’d seen your sister?” Lauren asked.

  Britt didn’t really want to discuss it with this girl, but she knew exactly how long it had been. Their father had died while Britt was in college. She would never forget that. She was finishing her senior year internship in Sacramento, California, at the Bee, when Greta called to say he had passed away. He had been ill with cancer even before Britt left their childhood home in Pennsylvania. She hadn’t wanted to go so far away, but it was a prestigious internship, and her father was proud of her and insisted she go. He didn’t want her to miss the opportunity of a lifetime. So Britt had spent the year in California, while Greta, who had her nursing degree and her first job at a hospital, moved back home to Pennsylvania to care for their father as his condition worsened. “A long time,” said Britt. “I was in college.”

  “You must have had quite a falling out…”

  “It was so long ago,” Britt said vaguely, avoiding the implicit question. After their father’s funeral, Greta’s bitterness erupted. How could you leave him, she had demanded, go thousands of miles away, never come to visit or help? Britt had tried to explain that their father had insisted she go, but Greta wasn’t about to listen. Britt’s face still stung at the memory of it. “You’re selfish and cold-hearted and you always have been,” Greta had declared. “You don’t care about anybody but yourself and what you want. He wanted to see you, he missed you. Didn’t it ever cross your mind that he might want you to be with him at the end of his life? But no. Not you. You had more important things to do. As always.”

  “It’s a shame you never made up,” said Lauren.

  “Yes, it is,” Britt said. Twelve long years. In the beginning Britt had been so angry at her sister’s attack that she didn’t care about their estrangement. She had returned to California after the funeral and stayed on, accepting a job there after graduation. But, as time passed, the reality of their endless separation set in. Many holidays and birthdays Britt had been so lonely for Greta, for what remained of her family, that it was almost a physical agony, but her pride wouldn’t let her beg for forgiveness. And Greta never offered it. As the years passed, the loneliness became a dull ache, and even when the sisters began to speak again, there was no real reconciliation between them. They were too far apart. It was too late. It was my fault, she thought. My stubbornness and pride.

  “Aunt Britt?” said a soft voice.

  Britt turned and saw a thin girl standing in the doorway, bony wrists poking out
of an oversize hockey jersey. She wore navy-blue stretch pants and her narrow ankles were visible above fuzzy pink slippers. Her blond hair lay like lank, satin ribbons on her shoulders, and was held off her forehead by glittery butterfly barrettes. She was smiling, teeth encased in braces. Her blue eyes were the color of a spring sky, and the expression in them was eager, and innocent. She was at once Greta, as a girl, and a gallery of refrigerator-door photos come to shining life. Tears sprang to Britt’s eyes. “Zoe!” she cried.

  Her niece, whom she had never met, rushed toward her with open arms.

  Chapter Five

  Britt rose from the chair and took a step toward Zoe who hugged her around the waist, burying her face in Britt’s sweater. “I’m so glad you came,” said Zoe in a muffled voice.

  For a moment, as she embraced the girl, Britt could not speak. Tears flooded her eyes and constricted her throat. She wanted to hold her, and keep on holding her, inhaling Zoe’s lemony scent, and feeling, for the first time, that she had done exactly the right thing in coming here. “Me, too,” Britt finally replied awkwardly, wiping her tears away. “How are you doing? Are you all right?”

  Zoe loosened her grip and leaned back, looking into Britt’s eyes. “My throat’s pretty sore. Not too bad.”

  “No, not too bad, considering what you went through.”

  “And what happened to Mom…” Zoe said, and then her voice broke.

  Britt looked at her helplessly. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “All right. Here you go,” said Alec Lynch, taking a folded Indian blanket off the arm of the couch. “Go sit down.” Reluctantly, Zoe released her aunt, and moved over to the sofa.

  “Hi, Zoe,” Lauren said. “How are you?”

  “Better,” said Zoe. She curled up in the corner nearest to the fireplace, leaving her fuzzy slippers side by side on the floor. Alec draped the throw over her lap. “You’ve got to keep warm.”

  Britt felt drawn to the girl, and had the urge to go sit beside her on the sofa, and put an arm around her, but she didn’t want to invade Zoe’s space. She sat back down in the armchair.

  Zoe looked at her sadly. “Will you sit here with me?” she asked.

  Britt’s face reddened. “Sure,” she said, “I’d like to.” She crossed over to the sofa and sat down beside her niece. Zoe rearranged herself so that she could lean against Britt. Britt put her arm out behind Zoe, across the low back of the sofa. “Is that okay?” she asked.

  Zoe nodded.

  “Good,” said Britt. And though, ordinarily, she was a little bit prickly about physical closeness, it did feel comfortable to have the shivering, coltish girl leaning on her. Surprisingly comfortable.

  “So, how about that, Zoe?” Lauren asked in a friendly way. “Your aunt is here.”

  “It’s cool,” Zoe murmured, twisting her hands nervously. “Dad, can I have a drink?”

  Alec, who was still standing, nodded. “Sure. What do you want?”

  “Soda?” Zoe pleaded.

  Alec rolled his eyes. “Soda again? All right. Lauren, soda?”

  Lauren gazed wistfully at Alec. “No. I should get back to work,” she said unconvincingly, as if she were hoping he would tell her to forget about work today.

  Britt gazed down at her niece’s gentle profile. “I’m lucky to be sitting here with you. That was a pretty close call,” she said. “Do you remember what happened?”

  Zoe frowned. “I don’t remember anything. I went to bed, and I fell asleep and I woke up in an ambulance, on my way to the hospital with some mask over my face.”

  “They were giving you oxygen,” said Lauren.

  “The fire chief said it was a miracle Mr. Carmichael was able to get me out of there,” said Zoe.

  “Sounds like it,” Britt said. “Who’s Mr. Carmichael, anyway?”

  “He’s our neighbor. He saw it first and called the fire department. Then he came searching in the house. They told me he fell on the stairs while he was trying to get me out of there,” said Zoe. “I don’t even remember it. I tried to go see him in the hospital but he was in the X-ray room.”

  “Thank God he came after you,” said Britt.

  “Amen,” said Alec fervently, returning to the room with Zoe’s soda. “I’ll never be able to repay him.”

  Zoe nodded thoughtfully. “I fed their cat when they were away. Now I wish I hadn’t taken the money for it. The next time they need me I’m gonna do it for free.”

  Britt smiled. “Are they close friends of yours? The Carmichaels.”

  Zoe and her father exchanged a glance.

  “Greta and Caroline were friendly, I guess,” Alec said carefully. “They’ve only lived here for what…“He looked at Zoe, his hands gesturing widely.

  Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know. They were here last Christmas.”

  “Maybe they’ve been here a year or so,” said Alec.

  “And then Vicki came with the cat,” said Zoe. “Around when school started. I love Vicki’s cat. He’s so cute. His name is Kirby.”

  “Oh, a cat lover,” said Britt. “Do you have a cat?”

  Zoe shook her head and tears came to her eyes. “Mom’s allergic. Was allergic,” she corrected herself.

  Britt squeezed her shoulder. “That’s right,” she said. “I forgot.”

  Alec handed Zoe her glass. “Here you go, sweetheart. Seven-Up. Zoe loves all animals,” he said proudly. “She’s crazy about horses.”

  “Really?” said Britt.

  Zoe nodded. “Dad’s gonna get me one. Was gonna get me one. We were gonna fix up our barn…” Her voice trailed away.

  “Tell your aunt about the ranch,” Alec prompted her as he sat on the edge of one of the armchairs.

  “I went to a dude ranch this summer with 4-H.”

  “It cost an arm and a leg but you enjoyed it,” said Alec.

  “I never slept away anywhere for a week before,” said Zoe. “Mom cried when I left.” Zoe fumbled in the pocket of her pants for a Kleenex and then wiped her tears.

  “That’s a big step,” Britt said.

  “My mom told me you two had a big fight.” said Zoe solemnly. “Were you still mad at her?”

  Startled at the child’s frank question, Britt shook her head. “No. Not really. I just wish… I wish I’d had a chance to say I was sorry. Now it’s too late.”

  “You didn’t know this was going to happen,” said Zoe.

  “Let that be a lesson to you, Zoe,” said Lauren, who had pulled on her hiking boots and was slowly lacing them up. “Now, she’ll never have the chance to make it right.”

  Britt blushed. Lauren’s assessment was accurate but unwelcome.

  Zoe assumed the role of comforter, patting her aunts hand. “She wasn’t mad at you anymore. She told me that, too.”

  “Enough about that. Your mother didn’t think about it all that much,” said Alec dismissively.

  Britt recognized the unspoken implication that she wasn’t really a part of their lives. “I’m sure she didn’t,” said Britt. “Well, I’m imposing. You’re probably both exhausted. I need you to direct me to a hotel where I can stay while I’m here…”

  “Oh no, stay here with us,” said Zoe, clutching her hand.

  “No, I can’t stay here,” said Britt, looking around at the piles of boxes, the general disorder, and the aversion in Alec’s expression. “I’d just be in the way.”

  “You have to,” Zoe cried. “Tell her that, Dad. She has to stay here with us. I want her to stay…”

  “Look, Zoe, your aunt wouldn’t be comfortable here…”

  Zoe looked anxiously at Britt. “You wouldn’t mind, would you? This is my only chance to see you…”

  “Now, wait a second,” said Britt. “We’re going to have lots of chances after this. Believe me…”

  “No, we won’t,” Zoe wailed. “We never will…”

  A sudden knock at the door interrupted her. Alec disappeared into the hall. They could hear the murmur of voices.

  “There’s
twin beds in the room,” Zoe pleaded. “You can share with me. I don’t have much stuff here. Most of my stuff got burned up, anyway. Please, Aunt Britt.…”

  Alec reappeared in the living room, followed by a tall, trim middle-aged man with thinning hair. “This is our chief of police, Ray Stern,” he said. “This is Lauren Rossi, who works for me at the dealership, and my wife’s sister, Britt Andersen. Britt just arrived from Boston for the funeral. And you know Zoe,” Alec said.

  They shook hands all around. Alec indicated his armchair and Ray Stern sat down. “You’re looking a lot better, Zoe,” Ray said kindly.

  “Thanks,” Zoe said.

  “I won’t take up too much of your time. Tragic about your sister.”

  Britt was ashamed, feeling that she didn’t deserve condolences. “Thank you.”

  Ray looked up at Alec. “Can we…uh…talk privately?” He cocked a warning glance in Zoe’s direction.

  “Oh, sure,” said Alec, looking a little startled. “Lauren, will you take Zoe out to the kitchen? There’s all kinds of food out there that people have brought over. Get her something to eat. Get yourself something, too.”

  Lauren nodded. “No problem. Come on, Zoe. Come with me.” She extended a hand to the girl. Zoe got up, looking anxiously from her father to the police chief. She went along with Lauren, as she was supposed to, but avoided taking her hand.

  Alec glanced at his sister-in-law. “Britt, weren’t you getting ready to leave?”

  Blushing, Britt started to get up, and then she hesitated. “I’d really like to know,” she said stubbornly. “I’d like to hear what happened to my sister.”

  “You can stay, if it’s all right with Alec,” said Ray Alec scowled and avoided looking at Britt. “Fine. Do what you want.”

  Ray cleared his throat, and continued. “I’ve just…uh…just come from the house. The fire inspector, Todd Griswold, was there.”

  Alec was drumming his fingers on the mantel shelf. “Was he able to figure out how the fire started? Are they still thinking it was a candle? Because I had all the wiring in that house replaced. And if he says it was electrical, some heads are going to roll at Mountain Power…”

 

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