“No.”
“I mean, take the sheriff’s department, it’s small and understaffed. And I’m being kind.”
“This missing Strickland girl, she’s part of another case,” said Diana. “That one involves a kidnapping and rape. It’s where my involvement started. There’s an ongoing federal investigation. At least, I think so.” Diana purposely left out the part about the murder of Trisha’s father and the suspected incest. No need to completely overwhelm Marge.
“Just a couple of details you forgot to tell me?” Marge’s tone was now less friendly. A gust of wind carried her second-hand smoke into Diana’s face. Diana tried unsuccessfully not to cough.
“I have the name of the federal agent in charge in a file back at the office,” said Diana, after clearing her throat of Marge’s smoke. “I could email it to you when I get back,” she eyed her watch, “which should be in just a few minutes.”
“Why don’t you make the call to the feds yourself, Diana?” Marge looked at her through narrowed eyes.
“Because I really don’t want to get caught in the middle of this,” Diana sidestepped. If Flannigan was the heavy after all, this would set him off big-time.
Marge seemed to consider her explanation. “Sometimes you get a rotten apple for a client. Is that what happened?”
“Something like that. But Marge, I don’t—and never did—represent any of the people involved here, though I’d really appreciate it if my name was not mentioned.”
To Diana’s relief, Marge stubbed out her smoke and tossed the butt into a nearby receptacle. “I’ll do it,” she said, “on the condition that you keep me in the loop if you get any further information.”
“Thanks, Marge.” Diana squeezed the woman’s arm, picked up her briefcase from the stone porch of the courthouse, and then headed down the long flight of stairs that led to the street.
Chapter 47
Diana smelled the perfume as she entered her office suite. White Diamonds. Eleanor’s brand. Her eyes tripped over the back of a woman sitting in one of the burgundy-upholstered chairs in the waiting area, then latched onto Tamara’s helpless, wide-eyed glance.
Eleanor was in mid-sentence before she shifted at the sound of the outer door. Diana heard “…and then, Maui. I’d hoped for Paris, but maybe…” Her mother turned in her direction.
“Mother, what a surprise.” Understatement of the day. No. Of the year. Diana was much too tired for surprises.
Eleanor got up, did the hug-and-kiss-the-air thing. Diana was too embarrassed to pull away in front of Tamara.
“Diana, I have some news. Don’t look like that. It’s good news.” Eleanor winked at Tamara. Apparently she’d already been the recipient of the “good news.”
Diana shuddered at the thought.
“Can we go into your office, dear?” asked her mother. “Later, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Oh, jeez, I’ll bet it’s her psychiatrist. She’s going to get him to fix me.
Eleanor marched ahead, toward Diana’s office, like she knew where she was going.
Diana mouthed at Tamara, “She’s been in my office?”
Tamara rolled her eyes and shrugged.
“Well?” said Diana, closing the door behind them. She tried to paint a look of at least civility on her face. The last thing she wanted was a family fight in front of her secretary.
Then she noticed the expression on Eleanor’s face: the nearest thing to joy she’d ever seen there. Eleanor waved her left hand in Diana’s face. Her third finger bore the burden of a huge diamond solitaire. If Diana knew carats, she’d have guessed this was several. What sins was Daddy expiating with this gift, and why did it put such a glint in her mother’s eye?
“I’m divorcing your father.” Eleanor spoke the words with gusto.
Diana blinked, and noticed for the first time that her mother’s wedding ring was gone. The big rock sat all by itself on her mother’s perfectly-manicured hand—gloating, no doubt. If a rock could gloat.
“You’re…excuse me, I thought you said…divorcing Daddy?” She stumbled over the words, rocks in her tired brain’s path.
Eleanor drew back dramatically. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I…I’m speechless.” And that was no lie. “What happened, Mother?”
“You did, Diana. Our last visit. Well, I’d hardly call it a visit. But you really made me think.” Eleanor took a deep breath. “I have options.”
Diana stood there nodding like a bobble head, a stupid grin on her face. “Stock options?”
“No, of course not.” Eleanor looked lovingly at the rock. “I’ve got Kenneth.”
“The boy-toy?” Oops.
“Dear, he’s only five years younger.” Eleanor whipped her wallet out of her alligator handbag and flipped it open. “Here we are. See, he’s neither boy nor toy.”
Curiosity overcame Diana as she eagerly grabbed her mother’s wallet and examined the picture. A pleasant-looking man with a head of steel-gray hair stood with his arm around her mother. He appeared about Eleanor’s height, a bit thick through the middle—not as handsome as Daddy. But they both looked happy.
“Well, Mom, looks like you lucked out after all. And you actually look younger than he does.” Jeez! Were these words actually coming out of her mouth?
“It wasn’t luck. I think it was fate.” Eleanor smiled, a dreamy look in her eye. “He’s not as wealthy as your father, but we can live comfortably.”
On whose money?
“On your settlement?” Diana blurted, the cynic in her raising its ugly head. “I assume you got a good one.”
Eleanor shook her head. “No,” she said in a small voice. “I made up my mind, with Kenneth’s encouragement, of course. Then I thought about what you’d do in my situation. How you’d handle it. Then I told him…your daddy…to shove it. He didn’t have a thing I wanted.”
“No, Mom,” Diana’s eyes bulged. “Not after all those years you put up with him. You didn’t sign anything yet, did you?”
“But I did.” Eleanor still didn’t look worried.
“You were under duress,” countered Diana, shifting into lawyer mode. “We can get it thrown out.”
“Diana,” Eleanor began slowly, as if speaking to a backward child, “I do have assets of my own. Over the years…well…I’ve accumulated a certain…amount of security.” Here she paused and unfamiliar fire shot from her eyes. “Do you think I’m a complete fool?”
My mom, the embezzler? Who more deserving than Daddy?
Diana remembered Jess’s words: “None of us is complete.”
She hugged her mother and listened as Eleanor giggled like a school girl.
“We’ll be married as soon as the divorce is final,” continued Eleanor. “We’re taking a little trip to Hawaii now, to celebrate my freedom. I arranged this stopover in Denver, so I could tell you. We want to take you to dinner tonight.”
Diana felt her last bit of energy flowing away, bath water down the drain. “Mom, I’m happy for you. Honestly I am. And I do want to meet Kenneth. But I’m so tired. Could it be on your way back, instead?”
Eleanor looked disappointed. But only for a moment. “We’ll make it a date. I’ll call you when we’re getting ready to head back.”
“Good, Mom. It’s a good thing. I feel it.” How tired she was really brought tears to her eyes, but Diana batted them back. If Eleanor noticed them, she didn’t say anything. They did the hug thing again.
And as Eleanor swept grandly from the office, Diana noticed the absence of dead animals hanging from her mother’s body. She has on a cloth coat!
Diana heard voices through the office wall, then the outer door closed. Wasn’t this what she’d hoped for since…she couldn’t remember since when. There were so many things she wanted to ask her mother, bitter chunks of gall that tainted this evolving relationship. Could they really be a normal mother and daughter? Could they shed the baggage of the past? Would she shatter their new, fragile bond if sh
e asked: Why did you let him make me do things I didn’t want to do?
Chapter 48
Lori threw her school books down on the dining table and picked up the ringing phone without looking at the caller ID. She went into major shock when she heard Shane’s voice. “I saw your mom on the internet,” he said. He didn’t even ask how she was. Or ask if she missed him. Or say he missed her.
She hadn’t spoken to him since that last day at the cabin, when he went out to find them a place to stay. If he really loved her, wouldn’t he have found a way to get in touch, at least get a message to her? More than six months, and no word. She’d seen his wife in Denver last month and the cow was pregnant again. Some divorce.
She was about to slam down the receiver when his voice snagged her like it always used to do. “Lori? You there? Don’t—”
“What do you want?” She flattened her voice, crushed all the feeling out of it.
Then his words echoed back at her: “I saw your mom on the internet.”
“That’s not possible.” Again her finger hovered over the end button. He finally calls, and it’s to talk about her mom? Forget it. If her mom was out there somewhere and didn’t call her own family? Double forget it. How could he be so totally cruel as to make up a lie like that?
Lori pressed end and slammed down the receiver. Then she grabbed it up again. But he was gone. A flood of tears burst from her eyes as she clenched back audible sobs. No one must hear. No one must know.
“Who was that on the phone, hon?”
Lori jumped, then wiped away at the wetness on her face, hoping he hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t heard her dad come in through the door from the garage. “Nobody. Just one of those telemarketers.”
Her dad gave her a big hug. She hid her face in his jacket so couldn’t see traces of her lie. He saw everything. He even forgave her for not being raped. Now, on top of her other mega-sins, she’d just lied to him, but Lori couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. The name she’d loved now choked her and made her want to vomit.
She’d been shopping with Trisha for baby things in Denver when they both saw Shane’s wife in the store. Trisha knew. Lori had never told her but it was apparent she knew about her and Shane. “That could be you,” Trish had said. “Be glad it’s not.” Lori got sick on the spot and had to run and find a rest room.
Her dad let go her shoulders and gave her a big smile. “How’s Fawn?” he asked as he crossed the room to where the phone sat.
“She’s…great!” Lori tried to paint on a big grin for Dad, but he saw right through her.
“Hon, telemarketers don’t make you cry.”
He headed straight for the phone without even hanging up his jacket. She felt herself shrivel as she watched him punch the caller ID arrow. She couldn’t actually see what he was touching, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind.
Though her dad had never laid an angry hand on her, Lori began to tremble. As she watched him get whatever from the phone screen before turning back to her, she felt like a pup who’d just been caught peeing on the carpet.
“What did he want, hon?” Her dad’s voice was calm, not like he was mad or anything. Even as she registered his lack of emotion, it seemed…well…weird. Considering this was the guy who’d done it to her. And he was married. Most likely her mom had been right. Shane was not about to divorce his wife. If only she’d followed her mom out the window, maybe…just maybe… She covered her mouth with her hand and once more shoved back the scream that had been trying to escape for six months.
“It’s okay, Lori. I’m not mad at you for talking to him.”
She hung her head. “You should be.”
“No. He’s the one at fault. Just tell me what he said. I promise I won’t bark at you.”
“I don’t know what he really wanted. I hung up on him. Honestly, I did.” She looked into her dad’s eyes, this time wanting the truth to register with him.
Together, they crossed the dining room and went into the kitchen. Lori could see Keith coming through the back yard gate. Soon she and her dad wouldn’t be able to talk about the Shane thing.
“But what did he say he wanted? Was he trying to see you again?”
Her dad was really strong. He made himself sound calm so he wouldn’t frighten her. He must really want to knock the crap out of Shane. But now wasn’t the time for him to end up in jail…again.
Keith was almost at the back door. It was the rule. He was too young to know about these things. “Shane said he saw Mom on the internet,” she blurted, then saw her dad’s smile curl up like a dry leaf, leaving only his bare face hanging out with feelings popping out on it like pimples.
Chapter 49
Diana left her office just before noon, after a morning of minimal productivity.
The news of her parents’ impending divorce seesawed for attention between thoughts of her approaching meeting with Darren. She’d had second thoughts about the latter, but when she’d called him to cancel, she’d gotten his voice mail and had hung up without leaving a message.
The night before, bizarre nightmares of slaughtered animals had marred what was to have been her catch-up night of uninterrupted sleep. She felt like a zombie.
After she was already on the road, she thought to call Marge Lane. Maybe Marge had already spoken to Special Agent Benson. If Joe Flannigan had a cabin anywhere, the FBI would be able to access the information.
Diana pressed in Marge’s number as she drove—an activity she’d criticized in others. Fools talking, texting and driving at the same time. Now she was one of them.
“Hey,” said Marge. “I was going to call you. Didn’t get to talk to Benson, but another agent told me they’re not looking for Patricia Strickland as a missing person. She was a person of interest in that other case you mentioned, but now she’s not.”
Diana merged onto C-40 as Marge continued, “Should’ve left it at that, but you’ve got my curiosity up. I even called Custer County and talked to some kid that didn’t sound dry behind the ears. He said they’d put somebody on it when they had a man available.”
“Did he say they’d call you if they found out anything?” asked Diana.
“Oh, sure,” said Marge. “But I’m not holding my breath. Neither should you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Marge.”
A gauze of clouds muddled the front range as Diana continued on C-40 toward Golden. She’d agreed to meet Rogart at a taxidermy shop in Morrison.
As her route branched into I-70, bypassing Golden, she glimpsed Heritage Square on her right and was inexplicably drawn to memories of Greg and events they’d attended at the Victorian-style theater during happier days. More crap to cloud her judgment.
As she then grabbed C-470 south toward Morrison, Diana pondered the incongruity of Rogart’s farming out jobs now. She was surprised that he seemed to have more than he could handle.
Within thirty minutes of leaving her office, Diana pulled up in front of Gorman’s Taxidermy Studio. A black synthetic bear reared up in front of the shop, its outstretched arms giving new meaning to the expression bear hug.
Diana parked in the small lot next to Rogart’s tan Ford truck. The only other vehicle in the lot, a van, bore the shop’s logo. She turned off her engine and sat for a moment, wondering why she was really there. Her imagination, cut loose by her fatigue, meandered through a fantasy of herself on Rogart’s arm, entering a nebulous theater for a cultural function. She tried to imagine Darren Rogart in a dark suit and tie, but couldn’t quite bring it off. The vision wilted.
Or rather, the clothes on the vision evaporated. Diana grabbed her water bottle and took a long, cold drink. To really put a lid on this mood, she pulled out her cell and pressed in Jess’s number. Disappointed, she listened to Jess’s voice mail. She’d really counted on the grounding influence of exchanging some words with her friend. “It’s me. I’m in Morrison meeting Darren. Call me ASAP.”
As she entered the front door of the shop, she could hear the
faint sounds of men’s voices, but didn’t see anyone at first. Display animals gaped at her from various angles around the room. A wave of distaste unsettled her further. It was as much from the odor in the room as from the sight of the animal mounts.
It was the same odor she’d noticed two nights before at the Rogart house, only stronger. She assumed that it must be something used in the taxidermy process. A shudder traversed her spine, echoing murky visions from the night before.
The male voices drew nearer. She could make out Darren’s laugh. So now he’s Darren again? She’d come to hate her own ambivalence.
“Hey, there,” he called cheerfully as he entered her line of vision from a back room. A stocky, pale man who appeared to be in his late forties followed.
Somehow, his greeting seemed off. “Hi, yourself,” she replied.
In two strides he was at her side, cutting short her greeting with a soft kiss. She felt his hands at her waist, then running down her hips. She was caught in the heady scent of him—musk and leather—that she was sure didn’t come from an aftershave bottle. But the flick of his tongue froze her desire with the snake’s image it conjured up. Diana held her jaw tightly closed.
She hadn’t been aware that her eyes were closed, too, until she opened them and saw a python mount leering at her from a side table. Maybe she’d seen it before and that’s what had imprinted her brain.
Rogart quickly wound up his business without introducing Diana to the shop owner. “I’ll have it ready for you next Thursday,” said the man, whose eyes wandered slowly over Diana, increasing her discomfort. She vowed that her first trip into a taxidermy studio would be her last.
As Rogart propelled her out of the studio toward his truck, she wondered about the lack of introductions. But perhaps none was appropriate in this business transaction. Why did she even remotely need this affirmation?
“It’s okay to leave your car here,” said Rogart as he led her around to the passenger side of his truck. Herb’ll keep an eye on it.”
The Trophy Hunter Page 20
