Bloodlines

by Dinah McCall

  “Hello,” Olivia said.

  “Darling, it’s me,” Marcus said.

  “Grampy! I’m so glad to hear your voice. Trey told me what happened. Are Rose and Anna all right?”

  “They’re fine, just a bit rattled. I’ve got Anna in an assisted-living home for the time being, although she argued all the way there, and Rose went to stay with her sister. Carpenters will be at the house in a few days. It’s the best I could do.”

  “Oh, Grampy, I’m so sorry this is happening and I’m not there to help.”

  “You’re right where you need to be, and besides, there’s absolutely nothing you could do. Have you talked to Trey?”

  “Yes. He’s going to pick me up in the morning. Said he has a neighbor who can stay with me during the day when he’s at work, although I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

  “Let him take care of you, darling. I don’t want to bring you home from the hospital to a hotel room, or I’d be the one coming for you.”

  “I know,” Olivia said. “I’m not feeling abandoned. In fact, I’m feeling guilty.”

  “Whatever for?” Marcus said.

  “For Anna.”

  “That’s absurd. She needs help. We’re all she has. Family doesn’t abandon family, no matter what the price,” Marcus said.

  “Speaking of family…have Uncle Terrence and Aunt Carolyn arrived yet?”

  “Yes. I’m meeting them at the hotel restaurant in an hour.”

  “Give them my love,” Olivia said.

  “I will,” Marcus said. “Rest well, darling. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Grampy.”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think it’s true…about Daddy, I mean?”

  Marcus slumped where he sat.

  “I don’t want to, but honestly, I don’t see any other explanation.”

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia said.

  Marcus frowned. “Why? God knows none of this is your fault.”

  “I’m just sorry that this is happening. I don’t have any memories of my parents, but you do. I know you’re sad. I know you have to be hurting. I’m sorry that you have to go through this, that’s all.”

  Marcus blinked away tears. “Thank you, darling. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Then he thought of how possessive that sounded and quickly added, “Although, you know…I may have been shortchanging myself all these years by being so selfish with you and your time. If I hadn’t been so shortsighted, I might have had some great-grandchildren to spoil, too.”

  Olivia knew he was trying, in the only way he knew how, to apologize for pressuring her to stay with him all these years. Looking back, she had to admit that it was just as much her fault as his. She’d let him direct her life because it had been easier to give in than to fight. It was a shame that she’d had to come close to dying before she developed the gumption to go for what she wanted. She thought of Trey, picturing his face and the love in his eyes, and shivered.

  “Oh, Grampy…where there’s love, it’s never too late.”

  Marcus thought of how many years he’d been without Amelia and suddenly felt old.

  “You know something, darling? You’re right. Sleep well. I’ll be in touch.”

  “You, too, Grampy,” Olivia said. She waited until she heard the click of Marcus’s disconnect, then hung up the phone.

  She lay there a moment, thinking of all the possibilities the future held, then went to sleep, dreaming of Trey and babies with dark brown eyes and sweet smiles.

  Foster was sitting in a chair beside Trey’s desk, still handcuffed, when Trey got there. Chia Rodriguez was staring at him, trying to picture him stuffing a dead baby in a suitcase, while her partner, David Sheets, was leaning against a nearby desk with his arms crossed against his chest. They both looked up when Trey walked into the room.

  “How do you do it?” Sheets asked as Trey walked past him and unlocked the handcuffs from Lawrence’s wrists.

  “Do what?” Trey asked, dropping the handcuffs into a drawer.

  “Come out smellin’ like a rose? Me and Chia Pet here bust our rumps, while you just dally here and there, catching bad guys between coffee breaks and making us look like slackers.”

  Chia frowned at her partner.

  “Oh, shut up, Sheets. You cry like a girl.” Then she snorted beneath her breath. “I just insulted my own gender.”

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on him,” Trey said.

  “No sweat,” Chia said. “You want some company?”

  “Stick around,” Trey said. “He might have some information for you about the fire.”

  Foster glanced at the female cop.

  “The fire? At the hotel? Why didn’t you say something sooner? Hell, lady, I thought you were just admiring the shine on my head.”

  Chia ignored his sarcasm.

  “Tell me what you saw,” she asked.

  “I was leaving Dallas for good,” Foster said. “If I’d left fifteen, maybe thirty, minutes earlier, I would have been long gone before all that happened.”

  “Did you see anything? Anyone suspicious?” Chia said.

  “No. I was going down the stairs and ran into smoke between the third and second floors. It was knee high and climbing, so I backtracked. It wasn’t long before I could feel the heat, too. I started yelling ‘fire’ and kept running up. About the fourth floor, I heard other people coming up behind me. We got to the roof. You know the rest.”

  “While you were on the roof, did you hear anyone mention anything?”

  “Lady, there was just a lot of screaming and crying.”

  “Yeah, all right,” Chia said. “But, if you think of anything—”

  “I’ll be sure and give you a call,” Foster said, and then glanced at Trey. “Depending on how many calls I’m going to be allowed, of course.”

  “I keep telling you that you’re not under arrest,” Trey said.

  “So talk to me,” Foster said. “They said I’m wanted for questioning. Question me. I have a life I’d like to get on with.”

  Trey sat down on the edge of his desk, then propped one shoe on the side of his chair as he stared down at the man.

  “When you got out of Lompoc, why did you come back to Dallas?”

  “To get the ransom I’d stashed,” Foster said.

  It was the last thing Trey had expected him to say.

  “So did you get it?”

  “Yeah, sure, and I was living the high life in the Henry-Dean Hotel when it caught fire.” Then he laughed. “Actually, I think I’m jinxed by fire.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The ransom…I hid it in the basement of a restaurant called Lazy Days. So I come back to Dallas to retrieve it and find out that the damn place burned down years ago.” Foster laughed and slapped his hand on his knee. “Isn’t that a hoot? It’s gone. What’s worse, they went and built a federal savings and loan on the spot. Got guards out the wazoo, and I’m in no frame of mind to go back to lockup. I get myself a room to figure out what to do next and the hotel catches on fire. So I’m saying to myself that it’s time to get out of Dallas. Then you came along, and, well, here I am.”

  The whole scenario was so outrageous that Trey had to believe it, but there were far bigger problems to consider than a pile of burnt-up money.

  “Since you know you were wanted for questioning, then I’m guessing you also know why,” Trey said.

  Foster’s expression closed. “Somebody found a dead baby.”

  “Yes, somebody did find a dead baby, or what’s left of her.”

  “I didn’t have a damn thing to do with killing. I don’t hold with it.”

  “But you stole a child from her parents and demanded money before you’d give her back.”

  Foster thought about what he knew and figured the more he told, the deeper the shit in which he’d be standing.

  “I said it then, and they still put me in prison, so telling it all over again doesn’t seem wise. However, I didn’t have a damn thing to do with murd
er or kidnapping. I just walked in after the fact and did something stupid. I saw a way to make a bunch of fast money. And if it hadn’t been for me, that kid would never have been returned.”

  Trey stood abruptly and circled his desk. He pulled out a file, shuffled through some pages, then tossed the file back on his desk before turning to Foster.

  “You never said that before,” Trey said.

  Foster looked nervous.

  “Said what?”

  “That if it hadn’t been for you, Olivia Sealy would never have been returned to her family.”

  “Yes, I did. I took her back to the mall, remember?”

  “But you never said that it was against someone else’s wishes,” Trey said.

  Foster shifted nervously in his seat, then looked down at the floor.

  “Who was it?” Trey asked. “Who was the other person involved in the kidnapping?”

  “I’ve done served my time,” Foster muttered. “You can’t put me back in jail for this, so why don’t you leave me the hell alone?”

  “I’m not trying to pin the kidnapping on you,” Trey said. “I’m talking murder. Somebody killed a baby, stuck it in a suitcase and hid it behind a wall.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Foster said.

  “You had your hands on one of them. Why should I believe you didn’t kill the other one?”

  Foster frowned. “I’m not getting this. What does one have to do with the other?”

  “Both babies were the same age. Both babies were born with two left thumbs, an anomaly that runs in the Sealy family, and both babies had the same father.”

  Foster’s eyes widened, and his mouth went slack. He shook his head. “I only saw one kid…the one I took to the mall. I don’t know anything about a second one.” Sweat beads formed across his bald forehead and his upper lip. “You have to believe me. I didn’t know.”

  Trey glanced up at Chia and Sheets, who seemed as riveted by the new revelations as Foster Lawrence. Trey didn’t know whether to believe him or not, and from the look on Chia’s face, she didn’t, either. Trey looked back at Lawrence, then started in on him again.

  “So talk to me, Lawrence. Exactly how did you get mixed up in the kidnapping?”

  Foster thought about it long and hard. He’d served twenty-five years with his mouth shut, and all it had done was get him in trouble all over again. He wouldn’t go back to prison.

  “I want a lawyer,” Foster said. “I don’t trust any of you, so if you want any more information from me, I want it in writing that whatever I tell you, it will be my ‘get out of jail free’ card.”

  Trey stifled a curse. He’d been so close to finding out what he needed to know, and now Lawrence was going to lawyer up.

  “You want a lawyer, you’ll wait for him in jail,” Trey said, and put the handcuffs back on Foster’s wrists.

  Foster’s face paled, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “Damn you,” he muttered as Trey led him away.

  “No, damn you,” Trey countered. “Somebody killed a baby and stuffed it in a suitcase, and I think you know who did it. You’re protecting a baby killer, which means you could haul the entire first string of the Dallas Cowboys off a burning building and it still wouldn’t make you a hero to me.”

  “I didn’t set out to be no hero,” Foster muttered. “I was just trying to save my own hide.”

  “Figures,” Trey said, and kept moving.

  Trey got down to booking and dealt with the paperwork, ignoring the constant muttering coming from Lawrence, then handed him over. Foster was still talking about his rights and demanding a lawyer when Trey left.

  Marcus had taken some painkillers for a headache, then showered and shaved without particular care for how he looked. He just wanted the night to be over. Sitting across a dinner table from Terrence was going to be nothing short of misery, having to keep up a civil conversation was almost impossible. If not for Carolyn, he wouldn’t bother.

  He’d made a reservation at the hotel restaurant and was in the lobby, waiting for them, when they arrived.

  Carolyn saw Marcus first, threw up her hands in a gesture of delight and came toward him. She gave him a big hug, then kissed him on both cheeks before turning to her husband.

  “Terrence! Would you look at Marcus? I swear he hasn’t aged a day since we left.”

  Terrence Sealy nodded and smiled, but, like Marcus, obviously felt uncomfortable.

  “I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” Terrence said, and patted his thinning hair and thickening waist. “Too much good pasta and wine.”

  Carolyn smiled adoringly. “Oh, Terry, you always look wonderful to me.”

  Terrence’s smile shifted, as did the tone of his voice.

  “And don’t think I don’t appreciate it,” he said softly.

  “Our table is ready,” Marcus said abruptly, which put a quick end to their billing and cooing.

  They sat, ordered appetizers and wine, then, as they waited, addressed the subject of why they’d come.

  “Am I to understand that they no longer need DNA from me?” Terrence asked.

  Marcus hardly knew what to say. “I couldn’t say for certain, but it’s doubtful. It’s too bad you were already en route, or you wouldn’t have had to come after all.”

  “Oh, we didn’t really have to come. We could have done all the testing from there, but we felt horrible about what was happening and wanted to come give our support,” Carolyn said.

  “Thank you,” Marcus said. “I’m just sorry that Olivia isn’t able to be here with us.”

  Carolyn fiddled nervously with the silverware as they waited.

  “I still can’t get over what happened to her. It’s just awful. Some crazed man attacked her without provocation? Is that right?”

  “Basically,” Marcus said. “He was delusional and guilt-ridden over some previous crime, and he thought that killing Olivia would be reparation enough that God would forgive him for his first mistake.”

  Terrence’s expression darkened. Neither man would have admitted or wanted to acknowledge it, but their resemblance to each other had grown as they aged. Carolyn, however, jumped right on it.

  “Look at him,” she said, pointing to her husband. “You two could pass for brothers.”

  A muscle jumped in Marcus’s jaw, and Terrence quickly looked away.

  Then Carolyn laid her hand on Marcus’s arm and lowered her voice.

  “This must be so difficult for you. Finding out that Michael…well, you know.”

  “They’re going to question you,” Marcus said.

  She looked taken aback.

  “Me? But why?”

  “Because I made the mistake of mentioning that you and Michael had always been close friends. The detective, Trey Bonney, is hoping you’ll be able to come up with something to help them find out who the mother of the other baby might be.”

  Carolyn’s face flushed pink, then a ghostly shade of pale.

  “I’m sorry, Carolyn, but I wanted to warn you.”

  Terrence’s eyebrows knitted angrily.

  “Look here, Marcus. Just because—”

  “Hush, dear,” Carolyn said sharply. “This is a horrible thing, and I’m happy to do my part, although, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be much help.”

  “Thank you,” Marcus said. “Oh good, here come our drinks.”

  “And the appetizers look marvelous,” Carolyn said.

  She picked up a small triangle of toast with a sliver of roast beef and a dollop of horseradish sauce, and popped it into her mouth.

  “That is so good,” she said, then picked up another and aimed it at Terrence’s mouth. “Open wide.”

  He obliged, then made all the proper noises about the blending of tastes while Marcus wished him to hell and gone.

  And so the evening passed.

  Anna was crying. She didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there. She kept opening doors and staring at the clothes hanging in the closet, and peering in drawers at h
er underwear folded there. She was pretty sure they were hers. She thought she remembered them in her laundry, but she couldn’t find her washer or her dryer, and when she wanted to go outside, they wouldn’t let her past this floor.

  She felt as if she was in prison, but she couldn’t figure out why. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was a good person. Everybody said so. And she kept looking for her little Olivia. She’d promised Mr. Marcus she would come home with him and look after her again, but they were nowhere to be found. She’d asked a woman for the telephone, but the woman had told her to go back to her room; then she’d taken Anna by the arm and walked her there herself.

  Now Anna was sitting in the dark on the edge of her bed, watching the pictures changing on the television screen without acknowledging what she saw. It wasn’t until the evening news came on and she saw the footage of a fire in a downtown hotel that she began to moan.

  The fire was big. People were standing on a roof waving and crying while a helicopter took them one by one to safety.

  There had been a fire at her house. No. Not her house. Someone else’s house. The fire trucks had come there, too. She closed her eyes, trying to remember.

  Rose was in the kitchen. They were cooking. The television was on. Rose saw the fire, too. It was big and burning up the building.

  Daisies. There were daisies on the wall. I took them off the wall and laid them down. Daisies aren’t supposed to be on the wall. They’re supposed to be in water. But there wasn’t water. Only fire.

  Anna slid off the end of the bed and crawled into a corner of the room, then turned her face to the wall. A few minutes later, someone came into her room and called out a name, but she didn’t recognize it. The footsteps came closer. Someone touched her shoulder.

  “Anna…would you like me to help you into bed?”

  “Who’s Anna?”

  “You are, dear. Now let’s get up off the floor and into bed.”

  Anna grabbed at her arm, then pulled herself up.

  “Somebody, please, I’m lost. I don’t know the way home. Someone needs to come and get me now. I want to go home.”

  “I know, dear. But you don’t feel very well, and I think you need to feel better first, don’t you?”

  Anna let herself be led to the bed; then the woman took off Anna’s shoes and sweater, pulled back the covers and helped her lie down.