She pushed a lock of hair out of her face, noted the dark color, and wrote hair dye. That job couldn’t wait long.
The front door opened, and Brady carried the cradle into the kitchen. “It’s pretty dusty,” he called, “so I figured we should clean it up in here before we take it upstairs.”
She dropped the notepad on the coffee table and joined Brady. The cradle was filthy. She grabbed a dishtowel from the drawer by the sink, wet it down, and got to work.
“I’ll get the base,” Brady said. She heard the door close. A moment later, he returned and set the base beside her on the floor.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He grabbed a towel and cleaned. “Lots of stuff out there.”
“Yup.”
“What do you plan to do with it?”
She froze mid-wipe. “What do I plan...?”
He sat back on his heels and tilted his head. “I just assumed Dorothy left this place to you. Gordon Boyle’s been asking me if I’d heard from you.”
“Mr. Boyle?”
“Your grandmother’s lawyer.”
Rae rubbed one of the spindles with the rag. It hadn’t occurred to her, but of course Gram would leave the house to her. She had been Gram’s only living relative. Which meant Rae owned a house. What in the world was she going to do with it?
The answer came before she finished the spindle. Sell it. The money would go a long way in helping to finance her new life. And her disappearance.
But could she?
Not only had she grown up here, her father had too. And Gramps. Gram had moved in when she and Gramps married, right after her twentieth birthday. Rae’s great-great-grandfather had built this house somewhere around the turn of the last century. Rae figured it didn’t look much like it had back then. The kitchen had been fully updated, and the living room was an addition. At some point, someone had added the pantry, which stuck out awkwardly on the side of the house. But the original home remained. The barn, the land, and the old rock wall that edged the border of the property had all been in her family for more than a hundred years. And now, because of her stupid choices, they’d all be lost.
“Hey.” The concern in Brady’s voice did nothing to stem the tears. He moved to sit beside her and rubbed her back gently. “You all right?”
Rae shouldn’t have burrowed into his shoulder, but it felt so nice to have a moment of comfort.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what to say.”
There was nothing to say. Nothing would bring Gram back. Nothing would make Julien the man she’d thought he was. Nothing could undo the damage she’d done to her own life.
When she’d cried herself out, she pulled away and dabbed at her eyes with her fingertips.
Brady grabbed the napkins off the kitchen table and handed her one. “You might have to keep tissues in your pocket.”
She chuckled and wiped her eyes. “You may be right.”
He watched her, the amusement gone. She turned back to the cradle and continued the task.
After a second and third wipe-down, the cradle looked clean and shiny, the dark wood gleaming in the overhead lights. Brady stood and grabbed it as if it were no heavier than a pillow. “Where do you want it?”
“My room, please.”
His eyebrows rose. “You might be more comfortable in—”
“My room’s the most comfortable place in the world.”
He nodded and carried the furniture up the stairs.
Rae returned to the couch to check on Johnny. He was staring and cooing as if the plain white ceiling were the most fascinating thing in the world. She picked him up, and he nestled his head to her neck. She’d never known true comfort until she’d felt his cuddle. Though, a moment ago, Brady’s arms had been close.
Brady returned and stood at the entry.
“Was there a mattress for it?” she asked.
“Nope. Guess you’ll need to grab one.”
She looked at her list. “I need to write that down.”
Brady took two long steps across the room and held out his arms. “Here, let me.”
She looked from the top of Johnny’s head to Brady’s outstretched arms. “You sure?”
“I offered, didn’t I?”
“You know how to hold a baby?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.
“Right. Your sisters have probably had babies over the years. How are they?”
Brady swallowed and smiled, but it seemed forced. “Married with kids. They both live in Manchester. Seven nieces and nephews, at last count.”
She laid Johnny in his arms and braced herself for the scream that was bound to come. The baby almost always cried when Julien held him. But Johnny nestled into his neck, just like he had hers, and cooed.
“Huh.”
Brady patted the baby’s back. “What?”
She smiled. “Nothing.” She sat and added cradle mattress and bedding to her list.
“You like that Civic?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It’s fine. Gets good gas mileage.”
A moment passed, but she kept her eyes trained on the list.
“So where are you going?”
She added milk to the list to give her fingers something to do. Then ibuprofen, hoping to stave off her growing headache. How could Brady know about her plans to disappear? Had she let something slip? Or maybe... “What do you mean?”
“Which store?”
Oh. She relaxed and looked up. The picture of Brady gently rocking Johnny reminded her of all she’d once hoped for, and all she’d lost. She found she couldn’t look away.
He must’ve seen something in her expression, because his hardened.
“Where did you disappear to all those years ago, Rae? I looked for you at Cornell, but you never enrolled.”
“Went to Columbia instead.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I looked for you there too.”
She tapped the pen against the pad. “I changed my name.”
His forehead wrinkled. “To what?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He took a deep breath and angled his gaze upward. Everybody was fascinated with the ceiling today. She stood and took Johnny back. “Thanks for coming over. I appreciate your help, and breakfast.”
He nodded to the notepad she’d left on the arm of the sofa. “There’s a Walmart. It’ll have everything you need. It’s right off the highway.”
“Right.” That was new since she’d left. “That’ll work.”
“You need some help?”
She shook her head. “I can manage.”
“Might be easier with another set of hands.”
It probably would, but as nice as the picture of Brady and Johnny had been, she couldn’t be seen in public with him. With anybody, if she wanted to protect the people of Nutfield. “Thanks, anyway.”
“I meant what I said earlier, Rae. I know you don’t believe it, but you can trust me.”
“I tried that once, remember? It didn’t work out so well.”
“One stupid kiss—”
“It’s fine. It’s in the past.”
He walked down the hall, muttering under his breath. He pulled the door open before turning back to her. “You’ll need Gordon’s number. I have it at home. If you give me your cell number, I’ll text you when I get home.”
“No cell phone.”
The suspicion on his face faded, but not quickly enough. “No cell?”
She thought fast. “My phone doesn’t work in the States.”
“Right. You should add that to your list. People will need to get in touch with you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Meanwhile, the house phone still works. You need to call Gordon tomorrow. Call me if you can’t find his number. I should be at the station.”
“Okay.”
“And Samantha will want to see you.”
Samantha. Her one-time best friend was still in town. Of course. “I don�
��t have time for reunions.”
“She’s the town clerk. You can reach her at work. You need the number?”
“If I decide to call her, I’m sure I can find it.”
“Rae—”
“Thank you for breakfast, and for the help. I appreciate it.”
“Rae, I know it’s hard, but you need to call Gordon and Sam.”
Trouble was, the last thing anybody in this town needed was to be associated with her. When Julien came here—and she knew someday he would—the people of Nutfield would be safer if they’d never laid eyes on her.
Nine
The trip to the store had been a nightmare. Rae’d managed to get Johnny in the house, then set his car seat on the kitchen table while she unloaded the groceries to the sound of his screams. She set up the new bouncer, but he wanted none of it.
This was why it took two people to make a baby. It took two to raise one. She’d sent Brady away, but she could sure use his help now. She lifted Johnny and rocked him. “How about we go outside?”
He made no argument, so she headed for the back patio. The air was in the mid-eighties, and a soft breeze rustled the leaves. The backyard was just like she remembered it, though the trees were more mature, the forest denser than it had been. The grass was spotty thanks to the sandy soil, but the hydrangea bushes against the house were lush and beautiful. The roses still held a few blooms. And across the yard, the apple trees were heavy with fruit.
Why hadn’t she thought of that when her stomach had rumbled that morning?
Johnny quieted—thank God—as Rae pulled in the crisp scent of home. The cleared area of Gram’s property stretched thirty or forty yards before the forest took over. Toward the right, Rae spotted something out of the corner of her eye. A figure was moving in the shadows just beyond the tree line. Rae’s heart beat faster, and she turned the baby around and held him to her shoulder. The bright sunlight made it hard to see into the darkness beneath the trees, but she was sure the person was moving toward the center of the back of the property on this side of the rock wall. Whoever it was remained mostly hidden in the trees.
Rae was reaching behind her for the door handle when the figure stepped onto the yard. Relieved, Rae called out. “Hey, Caro!”
The girl had unnaturally red hair and wore a long-sleeved, oversized black T-shirt, and dark blue skinny jeans. On her feet, she wore sneakers, maybe Converse. She waved and smiled. “You’re home.”
“Grab me an apple while you’re out there.”
Caro snatched a couple of apples then headed for the back porch. “I’ve been coming by every few days to see if you made it back yet.”
Gram had befriended the girl a few years before. Rae’d only met her once, but she’d liked her immediately.
She patted the baby’s back. “This little guy kept me from getting back sooner.”
Caro smiled. “Gram didn’t tell me you were expecting. What’s his name?”
“Johnny.”
Rae sat, and Caro walked around behind her to get a better look at Johnny’s face.
“Omigosh, he’s so adorable. Is he adopted?”
She’d have to get used to that question. “He’s mine, but he gets his coloring from his father.”
Caro spoke from over her shoulder. “Like Middle Eastern or something?”
“Johnny’s grandfather came from Libya, and the people there are mostly of Arab-Berber descent.”
“Arab Berbers. Are they like Middle Eastern carpet makers?”
Rae chuckled. “Not exactly. Just North Africans.”
Caro joined her at the table. “He’s adorable. And he has that straight hair, like yours.”
“Even the hair is his dad’s. I’m a natural redhead.”
Caro fluffed her obviously dyed hair and said, “Me, too.” Then she laughed and took a huge bite of her apple. Rae had a bite of hers—utterly delicious—and studied the girl. Caro had changed since Rae’d seen her last a few years before. Black makeup lined her hazel eyes and contrasted dramatically against her fair skin. “So, how old are you now?”
“Fifteen.”
“What grade?”
“Sophomore. I hate it.”
“How come?”
The girl shrugged. “Boring, I guess.” Caro took another bite of her apple. They ate in silence while Johnny rested on Rae’s shoulder. He’d fallen asleep, but after the day they’d had, she wasn’t ready to lay him down and risk him waking up to scream some more.
Caro finished her apple and looked around the deck.
Rae followed her gaze. No trash can. “You can take it inside and toss it out. You know where the trash is?”
“Yeah. You sure?”
Rae held out her apple core. “Take mine too?”
Caro returned a moment later. “Cute little bouncy seat. You want me to bring it out here for him?”
Rae patted Johnny’s back. “He’s fine. Thanks, though.” She’d thought Caro might leave then, but the girl sat back down.
“So how come you guys lived with your grandmother when you were a kid? She never would tell me.”
No, Gram wouldn’t have shared their family’s secrets. There was nobody left to protect now, though. “My mother was mentally ill. It started with postpartum depression—I guess I drove her over the edge.” She smiled, but Caro didn’t.
“Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault.” Caro pointed at the baby. “Would you ever blame him for anything?”
She smiled at the astute girl. “Good point. Anyway, Mom’s behavior became more erratic, and she was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Dad had to work, of course, and traveled a lot, so he moved us in here so Gram could help out.”
“And then he died.”
“Right. In a car accident when I was eleven. And my mom didn’t handle it well.”
Caro looked toward the yard and nodded slowly. “It sucks having a parent in prison. Sucks not living with your parents.”
The girl was right, though Rae’d have preferred if her mother was still in prison.
“But at least I get to see him sometimes,” Caro said. “And I get to see my mom sometimes, when she can get her act together for a little while. But she can’t seem to stay sober for very long, so I’ll probably never live with her. I can’t imagine not having any of them.”
Rae’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Caro said. “I’m so stupid. Don’t listen to me.”
“You’re not stupid. You’re right. I wish they were still here—all of them. Even after my mother no longer knew who I was, when she was in prison, at least I could look at her. I could hear her voice and talk to her.”
“And now even your Gram’s gone.”
“Are you trying to cheer me up?”
The girl cracked a smile, and Rae did too. Yes, her life was hard, but this girl didn’t know the half of it.
“So, can I hold him?”
Johnny breathed evenly in her ears, resting for the first time all day. “He’s been so fussy today.” Rae considered the consequences of spending time with Caro and decided there wouldn’t be any. Nobody would see the girl coming and going from the backyard. “Can you come back tomorrow?”
The girl brightened. “I’d love to.”
“Okay, then. And do me a favor? Don’t tell anybody you saw me?” She scrambled for an excuse and finally settled on one. “I have so many old friends in this town”—the lie slipped easily from her lips—“and I know they’ll all descend with casseroles and kind words if they hear I’m home. I just need a little time alone first.”
“I’m a great secret-keeper. Nobody will hear it from me.”
Caro left, and Rae watched as the girl with the red hair disappeared in the trees. Not that Rae would be here very long, but it was good to know she had a friend.
Ten
At just after seven California time on Sunday evening, Julien, Hector, and Farah stepped out of the San Diego airport and slid into the backseat of a waiting limousine.
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Hector sat in the far seat, facing them. He checked his phone for messages.
Farah yawned beside him. Julien was too wired to feel the hours. In Paris it was three in the morning, but he’d grown so accustomed to traveling, he hardly noticed the jet lag.
“You’re sure you have the right address?”
Farah wiped at tired eyes. “I’m as sure as I can be. She has a common name, and there are millions of people in southern California. There were hundreds of women named Rachel Adams, but this is the only one I can find who shares our Rachel’s birthday.”
Our Rachel. It was good that Farah had grown fond of his wife. An awkward situation, but he’d been bound to fall in love eventually. He was pleased to see how well Farah handled it. The woman was a professional, and she’d gone beyond the call with Rachel, befriending her, making her feel welcome at his home in Tunis, then checking on her often when her pregnancy confined her to bed in Paris.
He smiled at his assistant. “You’ve done well, as always. I thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said in practiced English.
He realized he’d spoken in English too. Didn’t take long to slip back into old habits. He pulled in a deep breath of American air, then blew it out slowly. Savoring the freedom. From his father, from the business. Not that he had ever truly been free.
His cell rang. He looked at the screen, took a deep breath, and answered. “Bonjour, Papa.”
“I understand you’ve lost your wife.”
If he ever saw that inept guard again, he’d kill him. “I haven’t lost her. She’s visiting her grandmother. The woman has taken ill.”
“So you’re in the States?”
“We’re on our way to her house right now.”
“You have business to take care of here.”
Business had to take priority. Of course if Maman were ill, Papa would drop everything to be with her. Perhaps if Julien had introduced Rachel to Papa and Maman, they would feel more affection for her. As it was, Papa was suspicious of this new woman Julien had brought into their lives and then kept from them.
He hadn’t been eager to introduce Rae to his family. He would have to eventually, but there’d been no rush. He’d enjoyed having her and Johnny all to himself. Perhaps he’d isolated her too much. Perhaps that’s what this was about.
Convenient Lies Page 5
