by Robin Caroll
She licked her lips. “Amber Ellison.”
His eyes clouded, then cleared. He pushed the door open all the way. “Well, then, come on in.” He moved his large frame from blocking the threshold.
Gabby perched on the edge of the couch as her friends took seats from the limited selection. Clark remained behind her, strong as a statue, but just his presence offered her comfort and strength.
Staleness hung in the air. A layer of dust coated the coffee table and the hunting magazines resting on top, making her want to sneeze. She curled her hands in her lap to resist the urge to fling open the living-room windows, just to let in a breath of fresh air.
Sam hunkered down on the battered leather recliner. A puff of dust surrounded him in the setting sun sprinkling in from the dingy curtains. “So, whatcha want to know about Amber?”
“You told me and Clark the other day that you and she were high school sweethearts, but then she left right after graduation.” Maybe he’d pick up the conversation ball now.
“Yep.”
“Mr. Sam, we already know she left because she was pregnant. Did her parents send her away and make her give the baby up for adoption?”
His face lost all expression, save for his eyes. They filled with tears and confusion. “What did you say?”
Gabby swallowed, hard.
Immy, bless her heart, moved to sit beside Sam and took his hand in hers. “So, you didn’t know she was pregnant when she left town?”
“P-pregnant? Amber?” He shook his head. “No, that can’t be. She would have told me.”
Immy glared at Gabby, making her squirm. Had he really not known? Could Amber have been so cold as to not tell him?
“I know this is hard, Mr. Sam.” Immy put an arm around the man, still clutching his hand with her free one. “But it’s been confirmed. Amber did have a baby that September.”
Tears pooled in his eyes. “Of course it’s possible. I mean, we’d been…you know, together. But why wouldn’t she have told me?”
Too bad Gabby didn’t have any answers. “I don’t know, Mr. Sam. I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
“That explains a lot.” He sniffed. “I mean, she left so suddenly and wouldn’t tell me where she was going.”
Sheldon leaned forward. “Had y’all been arguing?”
“Well, I can’t rightly recall.” He ran a hand over his thinning hair. “I remember her parents weren’t too happy about how close we were. They wanted her to go to college and get away from Mystique.”
“She just left without saying goodbye?” Tonna’s eyes brimmed with tears.
He rested his elbows on his knees. “She told me she was going to visit some relatives. That’s it. She never said nothing about being pregnant.” He closed his eyes and hung his head.
Immy absently straightened the throw pillows. “You couldn’t have known, Mr. Sam.”
“The b-baby.” He lifted his gaze to settle on Gabby. “You said she gave it up for adoption. She had it?”
“From what we’ve learned, she had the baby at Children’s Hospital in New Orleans. He was adopted by a Paul and Jane, no last names.”
“He? She had a boy?”
“Yes.” Gabby’s voice croaked as she realized what he must be thinking. Her heart ripped in two.
“A son. I have a son.” His voice trailed off as he shook his head. “I can’t believe she never told me.” He jumped to his feet, startling the girls. “I have a son. I have to find him.”
“Mr. Sam,” Clark began, “I have someone looking into the adoption. We don’t even know the last name of the people who adopted the child.”
“My son. Someone adopted my son.” His big frame trembled. “The son Amber never told me I had.” His eyes turned wild.
This was going from bad to worse quicker than a sand castle being washed away by waves. She had to do something—anything—to calm him down. Gabby stood and took hold of his arm. “Mr. Sam, let us find out what we can for you.” She tugged on his arm until his stare focused on her face. “I promise you, as soon as we find out anything, I’ll let you know.”
The tears fell from his eyes, dripping down his stubbly face. “She knew how much I wanted a family.” His eyes sought out Gabby’s. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
Her mouth suddenly felt as parched as the desert. “I don’t know, Mr. Sam. I don’t know.”
But she fully intended to find out.
The phone on Clark’s belt rang, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. “McKay.”
“It’s me.”
“Oh, hi.” Clark excused himself from Sam Wood’s living room, anxious to talk to his source in private. “Have you found out anything?”
“Yes, sir, I sure did. I found out the last name of the adoptive parents.”
A long pause preceded a crackle over the line. Was the man going to make him pull the information from him? “Well?”
“Masters. A Paul and Jane Masters.”
Masters…Masters…Clark knew that name. From where? He ran through the filing cabinets of his mind, pulling out data sheets on people he’d met since coming to Mystique. Masters. Finally, he had it. “Was the child named Eric?”
“I’m working on finding out.”
A sick sensation swept across his gut. “I know an Eric Masters.”
“Did you know that Paul Masters died when the child was only three?”
“No.” What was the connection? What was he missing here? “I want you to keep checking and see if the widow Jane remarried. Specifically, if she remarried a man named Martin Tankersly. And find out if the child’s name was Eric.”
“I’m on it.”
Clark hung up the phone. He didn’t move.
Amber Ellison and Sam Wood had had a baby. That baby was given up for adoption. The people who adopted the baby were Paul and Jane Masters. Eric Masters was KLUV’s station manager, and worked closely with Gabby. What was the connection? It was there, Clark could feel it.
Maybe Gabby could make sense of it all. She certainly made his life make sense lately. For a change—a very refreshing and welcome change.
Gabby and her friends joined him on the porch, closing the door behind them.
“I’ll check on him tomorrow,” Imogene said.
“Who was that on the phone?” Gabby asked.
“I just heard back from my source.”
“And?”
“The baby was adopted by Paul and Jane Masters.”
NINETEEN
Gabby remained silent on the drive from Sam’s to Martin Tankersly’s house. Immy had gently scolded her for just blurting out the truth to Sam, and remorse shifted Gabby’s movements into slow motion.
Now she had to wonder about what Clark’s sources had found out. Was Eric the child Amber had? When would all the confusion, deceptions and secrets end?
“I know you didn’t mean any ill will, Gab, but maybe you ought to plan what you’re gonna say before you talk to Martin.” Sheldon’s words held no malice.
“I’m working on it. Ever since I heard what Mr. Tankersly yelled about an adopted son, I’ve wondered what it meant.” What was she missing? The elusive link which would put the whole chain together was right there…bobbing just out of her reach.
“Considering the fight you and Martin had, Clark, I’m wondering if maybe it’d be best for you to stay in the truck while we talk to him,” Immy said.
Gabby cut her gaze to Clark. “Probably not a bad idea.”
“Fine. I’ll stay in the truck. Unless he makes a wrong move.”
He worried about her! How nice. It’d been a long time since a man had worried about her, save her papa and Antonio.
Rayne tapped her perfectly manicured fingernail against her front teeth, not smudging her glossy lipstick. “I’m not understanding how all this is connected. I mean, yeah, Mr. Sam was upset because he feels like Robert took Amber away from him, but let’s be honest—I just don’t see him murdering Howard. There’s no logic there.”
�
��Unless he shot Howard thinking it was Robert?” Tonna interrupted.
“What if he recently found out about the baby Amber gave up and wanted Robert out of the picture? Maybe so he and Amber could have another chance?” Gabby knew it was a big reach, but she didn’t have another plausible reason to suspect Sam. Truth be told, she had a gut feeling that Sam wasn’t involved at all. But lost love was a strong motive.
“Great day in the morning, Gabby. That man had no clue he had fathered a child until you said something. You could see the surprise and pain in his eyes, plain as day.” Immy’s words were as harsh as a schoolmarm’s. “He was plum shocked, that’s what he was.”
“I’m sure he’ll be just fine, Immy.” Tonna gave a little snort. “People get shocks every day of the week and they survive.”
“But he’d been drinking the other day, and from the smell of things just now, I’d say he’s still nipping at the bottle. I’m a little concerned about him.”
Tonna shrugged. “Then check on him later, if it’ll make you feel better.”
“I’d like to know what happened to the baby,” Sheldon whispered from the backseat. “I mean, was Amber kept up to date on the baby’s progress like some adoptions? I saw a special on Oprah about it.”
“I doubt it.” Gabby turned the vehicle onto the street where Mr. Tankersly lived. “According to the listed information, it was a closed adoption—the adoptive parents didn’t even list their last name.”
“True.” Rayne nodded. “But we now know what it is? How does this involve Martin?”
“I haven’t a clue. There’s just so much that points to him. He’s Eric’s stepfather and from what Eric told me, he was abusive. Him showing up at the station the other night and getting into it with Clark…” Gabby pulled the SUV into the driveway. “Here we are.”
Before they could exit the vehicle, Mr. Tankersly stormed out of the house and down the porch steps. Funny how Gabby had never considered the man’s build before—he looked like Ichabod Crane, with his long skinny legs and arms sticking out from a slight torso.
“Stay here,” she said to Clark before opening her door. “Mr. Tankersly, may I speak to you?” Gabby rushed to meet him before he got into his beat-up car. Her friends followed in her wake.
“What do you want?” he all but snarled at her. A shining bruise decorated one side of his nose, and the split in his lip boasted a thick scab.
“I just want to talk to you. About your wife.”
He ceased walking. His entire body stiffened. “What about her?”
“I heard you say something about your wife having an adopted son.” Her blood seemed to pump faster through her system, giving her energy she knew she shouldn’t have. “I didn’t know she had a son. Well, other than Eric.”
Martin’s laughter, callous and hard, rang out. “Why would I tell you anything?”
“I’m just trying to find out who’s behind Howard’s murder.”
“Again, why would I care? KLUV is my rival, even though it’s not been much of a competitive force lately. Besides, what’s any of this got to do with Jane?”
Gabby stood mute.
“Actually, Mr. Tankersly—” Rayne moved to stand just slightly in front of Gabby “—I was interested, too. You know, because of my daddy’s B and B being so close to KLUV and not knowing if Robert’s really the killer.” She batted her eyelashes at the older man. “He’d hate to think the violence could shift over to our place. A murder…” She shivered, then hugged herself. Those big eyes stared at him.
The expression in the man’s eyes was clear—the VanDoren name carried weight. Old money, old power. And Charles VanDoren exuded both. Martin Tankersly had the good sense not to offend a VanDoren. Any VanDoren.
“Well, now, Rayne honey, I don’t know what I can tell you.” His face softened, the leathery wrinkles easing a smidgen. “I don’t know anything about that murder.” His gaze raked over Gabby. “No matter what others might be saying.”
Shifting from one foot to the other, Gabby stared at Rayne.
“No one’s accusing you of anything, Mr. Tankersly,” Rayne said in her softest voice. “We’re just trying to figure things out.” She batted her lashes again while hugging herself. “To feel safe and all.”
“Well now, I can understand your concern, ladies—” he even included Gabby in his gaze “—but I don’t think y’all have anything to worry about.” Now his stare locked on Gabby’s, sending the strangest sense of foreboding shooting down her legs. “And now that Robert’s been arrested, there’s been no more signs of violence. Right?”
Gabby swallowed back her retort. What about her slashed tires and threatening note and phone call? Or his and Clark’s odd altercation in the parking lot? And the sheriff never did tell her why Mr. Tankersly was at the station to begin with.
“And it’s the first murder we’ve had in Mystique in decades.” He shook his head. “No, I think you ladies can rest assured that everything is just fine now.”
“Amber Ellison said you’d been underpricing advertising, cutting KLUV’s business,” Sheldon piped up.
The smile dropped quickly as he narrowed his eyes and shot a frigid stare at the town librarian. “Just because I can afford to run advertising specials doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong, young lady.”
“Of course not,” Rayne practically cooed. “She didn’t mean anything by that. We’re just curious.”
He smiled at her. “You know, used to be Robert was a worthy business adversary. We’d try to outbid each other on advertising spots, run specials to lure away sponsors, things like that. But then that worthless stepson of mine went to work for KLUV and filled Robert’s head with all kinds of lies about me.” He flexed his skinny arms.
“Mr. Tankersly,” Rayne drew his attention with her sugary voice, “I heard you told Clark that your stepson was adopted.”
He snorted. “I never told that Yankee anything. But I did say that Jane and her first husband were unable to have children. They adopted a son from some relative of hers that got knocked up in her teens. And that son is Eric.”
Gabby stood ramrod-stiff, her muscles refusing to budge.
So Eric was the adopted baby. Another piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.
A gust of wind tiptoed across the air, scattering lavender petals from a nearby wisteria bush. Through the open window, the warm smell of freshly cut grass filled the car’s cabin.
Gabby dragged her steps back to the SUV, the other girls already at the vehicle. She opened the driver’s door and slipped behind the wheel.
Tonna let out a shallow gasp. “I can’t believe it. Eric, adopted. I wonder if he even knows.”
Clark clicked his seat belt into place. “Tankersly confirmed it?”
Gabby turned onto Shannon Street. “He did.”
“My source called back while you were out of the car,” Clark said.
“And? Don’t keep us in suspense.” Sheldon playfully slapped his shoulder.
“Did you guys know that it was Amber’s cousin and her husband who adopted Eric?”
You guys? Man, she’d have to work on polishing the Yankee out of him. Gabby started to chuckle when the facts slammed against her brain. “If a family member adopted a child, why the closed adoption?”
“From what I understand, that’s fairly common. It’s to protect the birth mother. How would you like to find out your aunt Edna is really your mom?” His voice hummed with excitement.
“I see your point,” Immy stated.
Clark continued, “Most all relative adoptions are closed. As are the majority of stranger adoptions. Rumor has it that it makes the process easier all around.”
“I guess.” Gabby slowed for a stop sign.
She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as she lost herself in thought. Amber Ellison had left town when she found out she was pregnant by Sam Wood. She went to Louisiana, had a baby boy. A cousin of hers adopted the baby. She met Robert some way, fell in love, married him
and returned to Mystique. Her adopted son, years later, showed up in town.
Rayne broke the silence, repeating the question Tonna had voiced and Gabby had swimming around in her mind. “Gabby, do you think Eric knows he was adopted?”
“I don’t know. He’s never mentioned it.” But wouldn’t that be something Mr. Tankersly would have thrown in his face time and again? Gabby hauled in a deep breath as she turned the SUV toward Main Street. “If he knew, has he figured out who his mother is? How would that make him feel?”
“Probably rotten,” Sheldon quipped. “But how does this fact play into the murder?”
That was a question Gabby couldn’t answer. “There has to be more. Has to be a connection of some sort, one we haven’t made yet.”
For once, not one of the them had an opinion to voice.
What didn’t they know? There was a missing piece of the puzzle left. The one piece that would make the picture come into focus. But what? Gabby hit the side of her fist against the steering wheel. Why couldn’t she figure it out?
TWENTY
Dark, dismal and distraught—that described Gabby’s heart. No lights blazed inside the Ellison home, and it wasn’t all that late. Gabby parked the vehicle and stepped out onto the paved circular drive. She and the girls had come to see Amber, while Clark vowed to track down the sheriff and try to get an update on the investigation.
“I don’t think she’s home,” Rayne said.
Sheldon, with her taller stature, peered across the yard. “I don’t see sign of anybody.”
Gabby made her way up the large set of stairs to the veranda. After taking a deep breath, she pressed the doorbell.
Rhythmic chimes sounded, seeming to echo off empty walls.
Glancing around, Gabby took note of Robert’s car parked just outside the closed garage. She pressed the button again.
“Come on, Gab. No one’s here.” Rayne nudged her.
“No. She’s here.”
Immy pressed closer to the door. “Do you hear anything?”
“No, but her only means of transportation is sitting outside the garage. That means she’s home.” Gabby pushed the doorbell a third time.
