“You’re Christine Danvers’s son!”
Erik nodded. “I didn’t know that was her real name until recently. I’ve learned a lot over the last few months, more than I ever expected. I knew Mom as Chris Deavers. She never married after Dad, but she’d changed her name. She didn’t tell me why, and honestly, I still don’t know. There’s so much she never got to tell me.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I held up a hand. “I really do think you need to start from the beginning.” Christine was alive! It appeared as if Chester had been right all along.
Erik crossed his legs and carefully smoothed out his pants where they bunched up. “I was born thirty years ago to a single mother. She’d told me my dad’s name, and never once led me to believe she had anything but love for him.”
“But she left him?” It came out as a question.
“It took her years to explain,” Erik said. “And even then, she never told me the whole story. She claimed it was for my own good, that it would be best if I never knew. But she did say that she was forced to run from her home, to leave her husband behind. She said he never knew about me.” He closed his eyes briefly, before going on. “She always hoped that one day she’d find him again and would be able to tell him everything she couldn’t when she left.”
It took me a moment to realize why she’d had such a hard time finding Joe. “He changed his name.”
“It took us years to find him. Mom had searched for him ever since I could remember. She never came here, to Grey Falls, but she did ask around. She was careful, like she was still afraid of something, but she tried the best she could.”
“Do you know what she was afraid of?” I asked, thinking that whatever it was, it very well might have been what got Joe killed.
“No,” Erik said. “She was careful to keep that part of her life separate. If it wasn’t for Dad, I think she would have moved on from her old life completely. She really did love him.”
I tried to imagine what it would be like to leave my home, my family, and not be able to come back. To leave Manny behind. Ben. Amelia. I honestly didn’t think I could do it.
“Whatever she’d run from must have been pretty bad,” I said, more to myself than Erik, but he responded anyway.
“She was terrified. When she heard Dad might be living in Grey Falls again, she tried to reach out to him, but we still didn’t have his new name, just rumors. By the time she learned who he’d become, it was already too late.”
My heart sank. “His death?”
Erik took a shuddering breath before answering. “Before that. Last week, in fact. Mom became gravely ill. It came on fast, and before either of us knew what was happening, she was gone.” He swallowed. I noted his hands were shaking where they were folded in his lap. “She desperately tried to contact him, but she was so sick . . .”
I thought back to the room I’d found Joe in. “He was trying to find her, too,” I said. “I don’t think he ever stopped.”
A tear rolled down Erik’s cheek. “That’s good to hear. Mom said she’d left to protect him, as well as to protect me. She prayed that we’d all one day become a family, but it never happened. It never will.”
I was forced to swallow back a lump that had grown in my own throat lest I blubber all over myself. “You followed me,” I said. “Why?”
Erik removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his eyes. “That day, I was finally going to meet my dad. The day after Mom died, she received an anonymous letter with what was, apparently, Dad’s new name. As soon as I read it, I knew I had to come to Grey Falls. I drove by his driveway, I don’t know, twenty times. I was scared he’d reject me, scared he’d tell me he’d never wanted me. I guess I was afraid that he’d somehow blame me for Mom’s death.”
He laughed, though it was a frustrated sound.
“I should have gone right up to his door. Maybe if I hadn’t been such a coward, he’d still be alive.”
“You can’t think like that,” I said as gently as I could.
“I know, but it’s hard sometimes.” He tucked his handkerchief away. “I went back to my hotel room to calm my nerves, and after a good lecture to myself, I headed back to the house. When I got there, you were leaning against your van, and the cops were everywhere. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know who you were, only that you had some connection to my dad. I . . .” He cleared his throat. “I guess I thought you might have been his girlfriend.”
I bit back an immediate rejection of the idea. I barely knew Joe Danvers, hadn’t even known his real name, but there was no way Erik could know that. “I was taking him a cat,” I said, motioning toward where Sheamus was watching us with one sleepy eye.
Erik seemed to notice the Maine Coon for the first time. He practically melted into the couch. “That one?” he asked.
“Yeah. He was adopting him. I was due to deliver him to Joe that day.” I almost told him I’d found Joe’s body, but decided that probably wasn’t something he wanted to hear right then.
Erik smiled fondly at the cat before turning back to me. “Well, I saw you there, and thought you might know what happened. But with the police crawling all over the place, and me being a stranger, I was scared. I followed you, fully intent on asking you about Dad, about what happened, but when you got here, I chickened out.”
“And later?”
Erik looked down at his hands. “I have anxiety. I struggle with meeting people, talking to them. I sometimes struggle with people I know.” He glanced up at me. “And you were a stranger, one who knew my dad better than I did. I was afraid you’d reject me outright, or worse, had something to do with his death and would come after me next. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I thought you were after me,” I admitted.
“I only wanted to talk. And then when you led me on that chase, I thought perhaps you were trying to get a look at me so you could find me and finish me off.” He laughed. “I realized later that I was being stupid and forced myself to come to your house and introduce myself. Unfortunately, you weren’t home.”
“Yesterday,” I said. “Joanne . . .” My eyes widened. “Oh no!”
I jumped up and rushed to the front door. Erik followed me.
I yanked the door open and peered across the street. The curtains swished closed, a sure sign that Joanne was watching.
“What’s wrong?” Erik asked.
“My neighbor.” I closed my eyes, cursing myself for being so stupid. “I told her to call the police if she saw your car again.”
“Oh.”
“I have a feeling we’re going to have company soon.”
Sure enough, an unmarked car shot down the road, toward the house. It came to a stop, just behind Erik’s sedan, and before I could say another word, Detective Cavanaugh was marching toward us.
“I got a call. Is everything all right, Mrs. Denton?” While he spoke to me, he was staring hard at Erik.
“Everything’s fine. We’re just talking.” I don’t know why, but I raised my hands in surrender. Too much TV, I supposed.
Across the street, Joanne stepped outside. She looked excited about the prospects of a real life police drama unfolding on her street.
“Is this the man who was following you?” Cavanaugh looked Erik up and down. From his expression, I think he recognized him as Joe’s son or, at least, suspected something.
“He was,” I admitted. “He’s Joseph Danvers’s son. Like I said, we were talking. That’s all he wanted to do.”
“I think you’d best explain,” Cavanaugh said.
Both Erik and I took turns retelling the tale, with Erik handling most of the details dealing with Christine. Cavanaugh listened, growing more and more troubled as we went on. It was no wonder, really, considering he’d been running on the belief that Christine Danvers was murdered by Joe some thirty years past.
When we were done, Cavanaugh blew out his cheeks. “I think it might be best if you come down to the station to give an official statement.”
“It’s all right,” Erik said. “I understand.”
“He’s not in trouble, Mrs. Denton,” Cavanaugh said. “He might have information that could help us discover who killed Joe.” His voice was gentle, so I supposed he wasn’t just saying that to keep me calm.
But still, the man had gone through enough already. His dad, a man he’d never gotten a chance to meet, was dead. There was no fixing that. Dragging him to the police station would only compound the issue.
Erik took my hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me,” he said. “I wish . . .” He shook his head. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m glad we got it sorted out. Wait one sec.” I hurried inside, jerked open my purse, and removed one of my rarely used business cards. I returned to hand it to Erik. “In case you need to call me. It has my cell number.”
“Thank you.” He smiled, and then turned to the detective. “I’m ready.”
Cavanaugh led Erik to his brown sedan. I supposed it was a good sign that he was letting him drive to the station under his own power. I watched as they both backed out of my driveway and headed downtown. The urge to follow them was great, but I held myself in check. There were better things I could do with my time.
8
The front room of Chester’s office was empty, so I made for the closed door where I could hear muffled voices. A giggle came from inside, and I was pretty sure it was Amelia’s voice. It was most definitely not Chester Chudzinski.
A brief flare of motherly protectiveness tried to worm its way through me, but I mentally pushed it away. It was far more likely that Chester had said something funny, causing Amelia to laugh, rather than something untoward happening behind the door.
Still, I cleared my throat loudly before I knocked on the frosted glass.
There was a thump that reminded me of the sound of a cat jumping off a table. Seconds passed where I could barely hear a hushed whisper, then the door opened, revealing Amelia. Her eyes were a little too wide, her cheeks flushed.
“Mom?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I learned something that I thought Chester might want to hear.” I peered around her, but instead of Chester Chudzinski, another woman was standing in the room, hands behind her back. She had hazel eyes that stood out against her milk chocolate skin. Her hair, like Amelia’s, was colored at the tips, but rather than Amelia’s blue, hers was a fiery red.
“Mrs. Denton?” the woman asked, taking two quick strides forward. I noted she was wearing combat boots along with her shorts and black spaghetti-strap tank top. It reminded me forcibly of Amelia’s wardrobe. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I glanced at Amelia.
She cleared her throat and adopted a more professional tone. “Mom, this is Maya Boyd. She works with Chester.”
“Maya,” I said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I didn’t know anyone else worked with Chester. Are you an intern as well?”
“No,” Maya said. “I’m not a full partner or anything, but I help Chester out on his cases. I do have my license, so I guess I’m officially an investigator.” She glanced at Amelia. “And with how hard this one works, I imagine she’ll be joining me soon.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Amelia said with a roll of her eyes. She turned her attention back to me. “Chester will be back down in a few minutes. Was there something you wanted?”
“I think I’d better wait for him to join us.”
Amelia backed away from the door and motioned to a chair. I took it, but neither woman sat next to me. Maya moved to lean against Chester’s desk, while Amelia stood in the corner, arms crossed. She acted like I was invading her private space, which, I suppose, I was. I wouldn’t have liked it if my mother had shown up to my workplace either.
I decided to break the tension with casual conversation. “Have you worked here long?” I asked Maya.
“Couple years. I interned, like Amelia, thinking I’d strike out on my own after a few months. Chester’s a good guy, and I’ve learned a lot from him, so I’ve kind of stuck around.”
“I didn’t even know we had a private investigator in Grey Falls until recently,” I said.
“We do keep to ourselves,” Maya said. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” I glanced around the office. While none of the furniture was new, it wasn’t falling apart either. “It’s kind of exciting to think Amelia might be working here in an official capacity someday.”
“We’ll see,” Amelia said. “I’ve still got a lot to learn.”
“And get licensed.” Maya said it like it was something that they’d discussed before.
“What does that entail?” I asked, genuinely curious. If there was anything I could do to help Amelia expedite the process, I would do it.
Before either Amelia or Maya could answer me, however, Chester hurried into the room. He was flushed, hair ruffled and sticking straight up in places, as if he’d spent the last ten minutes tugging at it.
“I couldn’t find it,” he said, seemingly looking right past me as he strode to his desk. “I’m pretty sure I boxed it up, but there’s a chance it’s tucked into my desk somewhere. Oh!” He came to an abrupt halt midway through sitting. “Mrs. Denton. I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “And please, call me Liz.” I glanced to Maya. “Both of you.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Chester dropped the rest of the way into his chair. “You’ll probably have to tell me every single time we meet. I tend to address people formally out of reflex.”
“That’s all right,” I said. In fact, I imagine it was a good habit to have as a PI. “I wanted to talk to you, if that’s all right?”
“Mom might have learned something,” Amelia said from her spot in the corner. She sounded like she was anxious for me to be gone, but was intrigued at the same time. “She does that sort of thing.”
Chester started to open a drawer in his desk, but closed it without looking inside. “Is that right? Is this about Christine and Joseph Danvers?”
“It is,” I said, and then I told them about my encounter with Erik Deavers. The moment I mentioned that Christine hadn’t been murdered, but had, in fact, given birth to Joe’s son, Chester was on his feet.
“I knew it!” He clapped his hands together loud enough that it echoed. “I didn’t know about her being pregnant, but I knew Joe was innocent.” Some of his excitement faded. “But now, it’s too late.”
“It sounded like they loved each other very much,” I said, then finished the tale.
Chester’s expression grew sad as he sat back down. “You say she died?”
“She did. Apparently, she was ill. It wasn’t why she left—Erik doesn’t know why she fled Grey Falls. But she did try to find her husband again in the hopes of telling him about their son.”
Maya closed her eyes and dropped her head. At the same time, Amelia made a sad, heartbroken sound.
“It’s a shame they never found one another again,” Chester said. “We can’t let things stand as they are. We’ve got to do whatever we can to clear Joe’s name.” He aimed the last at Maya and Amelia.
“Erik is telling the police everything he knows as we speak,” I said. “I’m not sure what good it’s going to do in the long run, but at least now, they’ll know Joe never killed Christine. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”
“To some, it will,” Chester said. “But the more we can discover about what happened, the better it will be.”
“What can we do?” Amelia asked, pushing away from the wall to stand at Chester’s side. “Even with proof Joe didn’t murder his wife, someone did kill him. And Christine did run. Do you think it’s connected somehow?”
“It very well might be,” Chester said. “In fact, I’d almost count on it.
It can’t be a coincidence that Joe’s son arrives in town the same day Joe gets murdered.”
“He didn’t do it,” I said, though I knew no such thing. As far as I knew, Erik had fed me a string of lies. He’d seemed genuine enough, and I doubted the police would take him at his word, so it would be hard for him to keep up the façade if he was, indeed, lying.
“I’m not saying he did,” Chester said. “But I bet someone else knew about him, knew that Christine was still out there. They’d almost have to, wouldn’t they?”
“If Mrs. Danvers fled Grey Falls, she did so for a reason,” Maya said.
“And that reason might be the same one that got Joe killed,” Amelia added.
“Exactly,” Chester said. “Something made Christine Danvers run and, as Liz here said, change her name. It wasn’t her husband, that much is clear since she was looking for him. There has to be something in her life that points to what that might be.”
“An old boyfriend?” I chimed in, feeling like an outsider. I’d only seen all three of them together for a few minutes and I could already see the chemistry between them. Amelia was in good hands here, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“There were a few, back before Joe,” Chester said. “But none of them still live in Grey Falls, and as far as my research could turn up, the men remained on good terms with Christine, even after they’d broken up.”
“Gambling, maybe?” Maya said, before shaking her head. “No, that doesn’t fit.”
“Could it relate to Joe somehow?” Amelia asked. “Like, maybe he had a mistress or was into something dangerous. Christine found out and took off.” Even as she said it, she sounded as if she didn’t believe it.
“But if that was the case, why look for him later? Or tell her son about him?” Maya asked.
Chester rubbed at his temples. “There has to be something.”
“What about her family?” I asked. “Not everyone has a good family life.” And even if Christine was a good person, it didn’t mean she got her kind disposition from her parents.
Chester snapped his fingers and spun around on his chair. “Where did I put it?” he asked, though it was obvious he wasn’t asking anyone but himself.
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