by Casey Dawes
“Maybe they did. We just didn’t discover it.”
“Could be. But why is it so obvious now that we are finding it?”
Because whoever did it had finally met his or her match.
Or it really was Findlay. He needed to know the truth.
It couldn’t be her.
Diplomacy had taught him not everyone was who they seemed.
She must have sensed his thoughts because she stepped away from him. “It’s time I look for a new job. I can’t stay in a place where no one trusts me.”
“Give me a chance.”
She shook her head.
“I spent the last five years with someone who criticized my every move. Now he’s trying to take away my daughter. She’s my priority. I can’t afford to risk what happened before.” She cocked her head. “And you can’t afford for anything to threaten the company. Brian’d be on you in a minute.”
“I’m not like that. You know I’m not.” He reached out, but dropped his hand. They both knew he was lying.
“I don’t know who you are, Reese. The last time we were involved, you dumped me on your father’s orders. Not exactly the scene to build a lot of trust.”
She was right. He should let her quit, if only for appearances.
But jobs were tough to come by in Missoula, population seventy-two thousand, average income thirteen thousand dollars behind the rest of the country. Well-paying jobs were scarce even in the good times, which bloated sales jobs at places like Walmart.
No. Right now, she needed this job. He needed to find out who was doing this. Atone for his mistakes of his past.
Then, maybe, just maybe, he could finally put the past behind him and move on with the rest of his life.
“Talk to me,” he said, and slid down to sit at the root of the tree. He held up his hand. “Sit here and tell me. Everything that happened in Seattle. Please. I want to understand.”
She studied him then looked toward her car.
He stayed still.
Shaking her head, she folded her body down to the ground next to him, plucked a blade of grass, and twirled it. Unlike many of his female employees, her nails were free of polish or any other sign of care.
It took all his strength not to pull her into his arms.
“Chris worked in the financial department in the same company I did in Redmond.” Her voice was hesitant. “I was brand new to corporate politics and must have had ‘hick’ written all over me.”
She swallowed.
“He was charming . . . and ambitious. His parents had money, but they wanted him to earn his way. They’d even given him a roadmap to follow to get there, almost like he couldn’t figure it out himself. The next thing on the list was to acquire a wife he could mold to project the right image.” She stared at her hands. “I had no idea at the time, of course.”
Her voice was bitter.
“According to what he told me later, I fit the bill—someone naive in the ways of the big, bad city. He didn’t know Montanans.”
A smile flitted over her face.
“I don’t bend very well. But he didn’t discover that until after we’d been married. That’s when it started.”
“Did he hit you?” Reese’s fists clenched on their own.
“Worse. Constant criticism. He’d been warm, loving even, to me. But after a few years, it was almost like he couldn’t keep up the façade. He claimed he just needed time alone, but he never took it. He was climbing the corporate ladder at work and the social ladder at home. There was no time, at least in his mind, to take a trip into the Cascades and go fishing.”
Reese squeezed her hand. It didn’t sound pleasant, but it stopped way short of abuse. Was it as bad as Findlay imagined? Or worse?
“Then he decided it was time to have a baby. He told me getting pregnant would fix everything. I didn’t agree.”
Her voice broke.
“He wouldn’t give up, no matter how I fought the idea. Finally, I did. I hoped he was right—that a baby would fix everything.”
Reese pulled her close.
“Anyway, after she was born, I thought she was perfect. She didn’t like bright lights and loud noises, but most kids don’t. But as she developed, she couldn’t always retain things she heard and became easily confused. A therapist confirmed she had a learning disorder—not a bad one, but I’d have to find ways to cope with her limitations.
“It didn’t matter to me—she was a sunny child. I was always happy around her.” A soft smile lit her face, but quickly dimmed. “When I told Chris, he went ballistic.”
“He never hit her, but he was always cold to Kelly Anne and treated her like she was stupid. He said he couldn’t relate to someone who was afraid of her own shadow. He wouldn’t give her a chance. The new teacher here says she’s off the charts smart.” Her hunched shoulders relaxed and a small smile played with her lips. “They’ve mainstreamed her as much as they can, and she’s made friends with other kids. Even been invited to birthday parties.”
“A big deal.” He smiled.
“When you’re five, life depends on it.”
“I’m glad I’m not five anymore then,” he said. “I haven’t been invited to a birthday party in years.” He gave her a big grin, trying to lighten the mood.
“That’s kind of sad.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is.” He’d never thought about it that way. After the whole thing with Findlay, he’d found it difficult to develop strong relationships. “The embassy encouraged us to celebrate, but no one my age seemed to stay very long. The long-term assignments went to those had seniority, and more importantly, relationships in the country.”
“Must have been a lonely existence.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “But that was then. I’m sure I’ll have a birthday party again some year. After all, the big one is coming up.” He laughed. “I can’t believe we’re going to be thirty in a few years.”
She smiled. “Me either.” The smile faded as she looked at him—fully took him in with her eyes. Her hand rested on his.
“I’m sorry, Reese.”
“So am I.” He intertwined her fingers with his. “For everything. For what I did to you, the pain you suffered in Seattle . . . your dad . . . all of it.”
Occasional plops of rain dripped on the leaves overhead, but he didn’t move to take cover, and Findlay stayed where she was.
“We were good once,” he whispered.
She looked out at the water spitting from the sky, her face all angles and angst.
Maybe with her help he could get to the bottom of this. Save the company and get the girl.
Right.
Like he’d told her: first prove her father’s innocence, then worry about the rest of it.
“We’re going to prove your father was framed. And when we do, it will clear you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Why not?”
“Because I need to do this on my own. Help comes with strings attached.”
“You know that makes no sense. I can find out things you can’t.”
She pondered that for a moment, her greenish eyes darting from one side to the other as usual.
He’d always been able to tell when she was thinking.
“You don’t have to do it alone,” he said. “I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s find out the truth.”
• • •
“I wanna be a princess,” Kelly Anne declared.
“You already are my princess,” Findlay said, pulling her daughter close and giving her a kiss.
The girl squirmed out from her arms.
“No, Mommy. A princess for Halloween. We’re going to get dressed up in school and everything. Teachers, too. I gotta be a princess.”
“Okay.”
“I can make you one, Kelly Anne,” her mother said.
“Yay!” The little girl ran to her grandmother, opening the hole in Findlay’s
chest a little wider. “It’ll be beautiful! “
“Yes, you’ll be beautiful. We’ll get you a crown and a wand and everything.” Her mother kissed Kelly Anne’s head.
Meeting her mother’s gaze, Findlay frowned. This was her daughter.
“Maybe Mommy has a better idea,” Mom said.
“No, I want you to make it,” Kelly Anne said. “I love you. Mommy goes to work. Daddy doesn’t want her to work.”
“What?” Findlay crossed to the pair and knelt before her daughter. “When did Daddy say that?”
“Yesterday.”
“He called,” her mother said, “insisting the court said he could talk to her.”
“You should have hung up the phone. He doesn’t get to talk to her without me here. This is why.”
“I’m sorry. I thought with the new custody hearing . . . ”
“Don’t change anything unless I tell you.”
“Don’t yell at Grandma. You’re mean. I want to go home to Daddy. I want him to make my costume!”
She flung herself away from her grandmother and ran down the hallway.
Findlay stood to go, but her mother’s hand stopped her.
“Let her be for a moment. She’s confused. Too many adults and not enough coordination.”
Findlay stared after her daughter, her face sagging with unshed tears.
“I suppose you’re right.” She’d brought this on, by yelling in front of her daughter. She was no better than Chris.
“Stop beating yourself up,” her mother said. “We’re all tense—holidays, the custody hearing, new kids for her to get along with.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She hugged her mom.
“Come on into the kitchen and let’s talk while I make dinner. I feel like I never see you even though you’re living right under my own roof.”
She dutifully followed her mother. Between work, wanting to spend time with Kelly Anne, and fighting the custody battle, she was exhausted.
And now the stuff at work . . . and Reese. What did he want with her? Only to help her? Or something more?”
“How’s work going?” her mother asked as she searched for the pan she wanted.
“Okay.”
The rattling stopped.
“Interesting,” she hastily added. “Nice people to work with. It’s fun to be with Li again.”
Her mother thumped the pan on the stove and pulled out a plastic tub from the refrigerator.
“What about Reese? He leaving you alone?”
“We talk.”
“What about?” Her mother’s tone was as sharp as the knife she held in her hand.
“Work stuff.” Like whether or not I’m a thief.
“Be careful. He’s hurt you once before.”
The aroma of onion stung Findlay’s eyes as her mother went to work on it.
“I have no intention of getting involved with Reese. There’s too much on my plate as it is—you said so yourself.” Findlay glanced at her watch. She needed to get out of there. Lying to her mother for any length of time had never worked in the past. “I need to call my lawyer and find out what Chris is up to before I check in with Kelly Anne.”
“I’ll be happy when this is all over.” Her mother put down her knife. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Yeah.” Findlay smiled. “If you could make the costume, I’d really love it—so would Kelly Anne. I’ll get a crown and wand. That way she’ll have something from both of us.”
“Before you do that, you might want to check the box in the garage marked ‘costumes.’ You were a princess once, too, you know.”
Once upon a time.
Findlay pulled out her phone, went to the living room, and opened the front door. The sun, already setting earlier, left orange streaks in the northern sky. When daylight savings ended, the night would fall like someone hitting a switch.
“Good to hear from you,” her attorney, Emily, answered. “What’s up?”
Findlay relayed what she’d heard from her mother. “Isn’t there anything I can do to prevent him from upsetting Kelly Anne like that?”
“Unfortunately, no. At the moment he has to take visitation with you around, but there’s nothing in the decree about phone calls. It’s one of the horrible side effects of a contested divorce. Exes can slander each other to their children. It doesn’t help anyone, of course, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
“It’s not fair to Kelly Anne,” she said.
“I know. But it’s the way it is.”
“Anything new?”
“Remember you need to bring your daughter back before Thanksgiving. I just got the official notice today. I was going to call you first thing tomorrow to let you know. I have the information here somewhere.” The attorney went silent for a few moments then gave Findlay the name, address, and phone number of the therapist.
“Don’t suppose Chris will pay for the flight.”
“You are a dreamer.” Emily chuckled. “But you need to schedule it soon. Flights are harder to get this time of year.”
And more expensive.
“There’s one more thing,” Emily added.
One more thing from her lawyer couldn’t be good news.
“What is it?” Her pulse beat a little faster.
“Apparently Chris has met a woman, a family counselor. He’s let the court know they’ve planned a December wedding.”
“Guess he doesn’t want to reconcile.”
“No. That’s off the table.”
“And the wedding’s right before the court date.”
“Yep,” the attorney said. “That puts a point in his favor. She’s going to stay home to take care of Kelly Anne if he wins either full or partial custody.”
“But I’m her mother.”
“And you have a full-time job.”
“If Chris would pay me enough child support, I wouldn’t have to work.”
“Chris has also said repeatedly that he’s willing to do that as soon as you come back to Seattle where he can see Kelly Anne.”
“I can’t move back. My life is here now.” She had so totally made the wrong choice moving from Seattle. But she’d been so alone there.
“Then, you’re going to have to take your chances. Did you get a letter from your daughter’s new school and her IEP?”
“It should be on its way to you. What about my mother? She’d testify that Kelly Anne is happy.”
Most of the time.
“Maybe. But grandmothers aren’t always credible against a man, particularly if he’s well-established, successful, married, with competent parents of his own. Don’t give up hope. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Thanks.”
After she hung up the phone, Findlay stared at the faint glow framing the mountains.
If she were in a relationship, too, would it make a difference to the judge?
Chapter 11
“There,” Findlay said as she placed the tiara on her daughter’s head. “Now you are a princess!” The paste and silver headpiece looked as good as when she’d worn it twenty-five years ago. Fighting back tears, she crouched down to her daughter.
“But you’re a special princess,” she said. “You are a fairy princess, so you need a wand.”
“Fairy princess!” Kelly Anne’s eyes glittered with joy.
“Let me take a picture.” She captured the moment.
“See Grandma! I’m a fairy princess.”
“Yes, dear, I can see that. Now let’s get in the car so we can go to the party.”
“Will there be candy?” Kelly Anne asked as she took her grandmother’s hand.
“Absolutely! Candy and games and all kinds of ghosts. Lots of other kids, too.”
Findlay smiled and gathered her things. The Children’s Museum party was perfect. She’d take lots of pictures to bring to Seattle for the meeting with the psychiatrist and her lawyers. They had to understand she was providing a safe and happy home for her child.<
br />
It was a short drive, and they were able to find a spot in the Riverfront parking area. Although there was a chill, the sun sparkled on the Clark Fork River as it wended its way through the downtown district.
“Can we ride the horses?” Kelly Anne asked as she pointed toward the Carousel for Missoula building.
“We’ll see. You may be too tired after the party.”
“I’m never too tired for the horses.”
Findlay laughed.
Her mother had a big smile on her face, too.
This was how it was supposed to be.
A riot of color, noise, and people thronged the museum. At first Kelly Anne hung back. Then her daughter spotted someone and tugged on Findlay’s hand.
“I want to go there . . . there . . . ”
“I’ll catch up. I saw someone on the Fort Missoula Christmas decorations committee. I want to make sure they know I’m going to help again this year.” Her mother was an avid supporter of the old fort that had been used to intern over a thousand Italian men in the 1940s.
“Sure. It’s a small place, I’m sure you’ll find me.”
She let her daughter tug her to the newfound friend. Soon the pair were chattering in the nonsense giggly way five-year-olds did.
If only she could keep Kelly Anne’s life like this. Maybe growing up in Missoula hadn’t been so bad after all.
“I saw your daughter. I figured you must be here somewhere.”
Reese.
“What are you doing here?”
“My mother’s on the committee.” He pointed across the hall.
Unlike her own mother, Sally Moore’s life wasn’t road mapped on her face. The woman could pass for forty.
Findlay stiffened. Her mother had seen the woman and was making her way toward Mrs. Moore, a large smile on her face.
“You didn’t know?” Reese asked.
“What?”
“In spite of everything that happened, our mothers remained friends.”
“What did your father think?”
“My mother’s a smart woman. She didn’t say anything until recently.”
She stared at the women as they briefly hugged and chatted eagerly with each other.
