The Stepchild

by Joanne Fluke

  She sighed heavily and picked up the leather-bound books, dusting the covers and the shelf beneath. The books were thick and heavy, law books that Mr. Doug never had the time to read. They just gathered dust, but they were beautiful, dusted carefully and arranged just so on the shelves. If Mr. Doug ever needed them, they would be there and not a speck of dust on them!

  Sally gave another deep sigh as she finished the bookshelves and turned toward the desk. She remembered Miss Kathi sitting on Mr. Doug’s lap behind the desk, both of them laughing and making a chain of paper clips. Miss Kathi had been happy then, except for the dark dreams at night. The child used to like to sit at her father’s desk and draw pictures on the long yellow legal pads that Mr. Doug kept in his drawer. There had been a drawer just for Miss Kathi then, with paper clips, blunt-tipped scissors, Scotch tape, and a box of crayons. Sally still had the picture Miss Kathi had made for her—a wobbly house with smoke coming out of the chimney. It made her feel sad to think of it now.

  Sally patted her apron pocket where Mama’s ring was resting, solid and heavy and reassuring. It was true that each person had to make his own luck, but Sally didn’t think Mama would mind sharing a little bit of hers with Miss Kathi. She was going to send the ring to Miss Kathi today, take it right down to the post office and mail it off to her. Maybe it would change her luck.

  Remembering Miss Kathi’s white face made Sally’s hands tremble as she pulled out Mr. Doug’s desk drawers and dusted inside. She was going to give this desk an extra-good cleaning today, just to keep her hands busy. Mr. Doug didn’t like his papers rearranged, so she would just stack the drawers on the top and oil the wooden slats under them so they’d slide nice and smooth.

  She squatted on her heels and wiped out the spaces where the drawers fit, fishing out some paper clips and a book of matches that had fallen out. This desk had never had such a good cleaning! Mr. Doug might not notice, but she’d know that she’d done a good job in his den.

  “What’s this?” Sally muttered, pulling out a crinkled ball of paper that had fallen out of the center drawer and been shoved back underneath—a newspaper clipping. She straightened it out, hoping that it wasn’t something important. Then a name—one name out of a list—caught her eye and made her gasp in surprise. Sharon Elizabeth Walker! Miss Kathi’s Sheri Walker! Her name was right here in black and white!

  Sally looked around furtively, the clipping clutched in her hand. She knew she should straighten it out and put it right back where she’d found it. A good housekeeper never snooped through her family’s private things. But . . . wasn’t this different? Would she really be snooping if she just read the clipping? It wasn’t really private like a letter or some such thing. Newspapers were printed for everyone to read. Would it be so wrong just to take a little peek?

  Sally wrestled with her conscience for a moment and then sat down heavily behind the desk. Her hands shook as she scanned the article, coming again to the familiar name. Then her breath caught in her throat, and she gave a wail of despair. Sheri was dead. What they had feared was true! Now Miss Kathi needed Mama’s ring more than ever....

  “Sally? Are you there, Sally?” She heard Miss Vivian’s voice in the hallway. “Is there anything wrong, Sally?”

  Sally acted quickly, not really thinking about what she was doing. In the space of a second, the crumpled newspaper clipping had joined her mama’s ring, out of sight in her apron pocket.

  “Oh, Miss Vivian!” Sally gasped, her mind grasping at some excuse for her outcry. “I didn’t mean for you to hear me. It’s nothin’ really. I . . . I was just cleanin’ out the inside of Mr. Doug’s drawers, and I poked my finger on one of the little nails. It’s okay.” She gave a little nervous laugh. “I guess I should’ve been more careful.”

  Vivian sighed, relieved. “You work too hard, Sally,” she said, smiling as she surveyed the room. “You didn’t have to clean out the inside of Doug’s desk. No one ever sees the inside anyway.”

  “But I’d know it was dirty, Miss Vivian,” Sally replied promptly. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep nights, knowin’ I left dirt in Mr. Doug’s drawers!”

  Vivian nodded, accepting the inevitable. When it came to Doug, Sally was almost too zealous. Any slight suggestion from Doug, and Sally would drop everything else to do his bidding. She ironed his shirts painstakingly and folded them in the best laundry style. She was fiercely loyal, and Vivian was sure that Sally would throw herself off the Flower Street overpass without a second thought, if Doug even hinted that was what he wanted.

  “Well, be careful, Sally,” Vivian said, turning to the bookshelves and idly touching the binding on Doug’s leather law books. She had no doubt that Sally liked her too, but the elderly housekeeper wouldn’t hesitate to turn on her like an avenging angel, if she ever thought that Vivian was hurting Doug or Kathi in any way.

  “You got another one of those ladies’ teas this afternoon?” Sally asked, quickly changing the subject. “I could find time to make up some of them little sandwiches with the crusts cut off, if you need some.”

  “No, there’s nothing planned for this afternoon, Sally,” Vivian answered, sighing lightly. “Do you realize that we’ve had one group or another here every afternoon for the past two weeks? It’s getting to where I don’t know what to do when I have any free time.”

  “You ought to get yourself out of the house, Miss Vivian,” Sally said, replacing the drawers in the desk carefully. “Why don’t you run on down to that nice beauty parlor and get your hair done? Not that it needs it, Miss Vivian, but you always look so pretty when you come back from the beauty parlor.”

  Vivian turned to smile at Sally, who was industriously dusting again. “So you think it would be good for me to get out of the house,” Vivian said, nodding. “You’re probably right, Sally. It’s an excellent idea. I’ll call for an appointment right now.”

  “No need to do that, Miss Vivian. You just run along upstairs, and I’ll make the call for you while you get ready.”

  “Sally,” Vivian said, smiling, “whatever would we do without you? You take such good care of us.”

  “I try, Miss Vivian. I try.” Sally grinned, waiting until Miss Vivian had left the room before she picked up the phone. She was going to make that fancy hairdresser—the one with the tight pants—take Miss Vivian right in. Then, while Miss Vivian was relaxing at the beauty parlor, she could run down to the post office and mail off the ring to Miss Kathi. She might even make a copy of that clipping on one of the big machines they had down there. It wouldn’t take more than a few extra minutes, and she could send it right along with the ring. She could have the real clipping back before Mr. Doug noticed it was gone. He probably wouldn’t notice anyway. That clipping must have been lying under the drawer for a long time to be so old and wrinkled. Miss Kathi needed to know what the article said. Now she’d know more about Sheri Walker and who she was. No wonder her poor lamb was always dreaming about trains . . .

  CHAPTER 12

  There was something unusual about the man. He looked familiar, but, at the same time, she was certain she didn’t really know him. He was older than the average student, and he didn’t look like a professor either. Perhaps he worked somewhere on campus, in the food service or perhaps as a security guard. She turned to smile at him, sure that she recognized him from somewhere, but he turned his face away, avoiding her eyes. That was strange. Perhaps she didn’t know him after all.

  * * *

  The dorm was filled with girls hurrying from room to room with suitcases in hand. Midterm break had officially started. Parents were sitting in groups in the reception area, waiting for their daughters. There was an air of festivity about the dorm this morning, but by nightfall these busy rooms would be deserted except for a skeleton staff of maintenance personnel. As Kathi hurried past the switchboard, she saw that the phone lines were all tied up with last-minute calls and orders for taxis. That must be why she had got a busy signal when she tried to reach Bev by phone earlier.


  Kathi made her way carefully down the crowded corridors and knocked on Bev’s door.

  “Kathi!” Bev greeted her with a hug, and then stepped back to examine Kathi’s face. “God! What happened to you? You look like death warmed over!”

  “Well, I see you haven’t changed any,” Kathi retorted weakly, managing a sickly smile. “You’re still as blunt as ever.”

  “Mmmmmm . . . sorry,” Bev said. “But Kathi, you really don’t look well. A fight with David?”

  “No . . . no fight, it’s just lack of sleep, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with me that twenty-four hours in a bed wouldn’t cure.”

  Bev frowned and raised her eyebrows. Instinctively, she knew that Kathi was lying. She’d never seen her look like this, and they’d stayed up all night studying for exams plenty of times before. Kathi actually looked ill, with dark circles under her eyes and a pinched look about her face. She was a beautiful girl, but today she looked almost haggard. Her jeans hung on her loosely, and Bev could tell she’d lost weight. There was definitely something wrong, but she wouldn’t press it. Kathi would tell her the problem if she wanted her to know. She wasn’t the type of roommate who would weep and whisper secrets in the dark of night, and that had suited Bev just fine. Until now, that is. Right now she would have welcomed Kathi’s confidence, if it would have helped.

  “Well!” Bev said heartily. “Come on in and have a cup of coffee with me. I’ll dig out the pot just like we used to do.”

  “Oh, thanks anyway, Bev,” Kathi declined. “My stomach’s a little upset today. I really just came to get the rest of my things out of your way. I’ll pack everything up and have David come over to move it all tomorrow.”

  Bev sat down on the edge of her madras-covered bed and studied Kathi as she packed. Kathi’s hands were trembling, and she looked preoccupied as she stuffed things in boxes and then pulled them out to examine them again, not at all like the efficient woman Bev knew. There really was something on Kathi’s mind, but it wouldn’t do a particle of good to ask about it again. All Bev could do was sit there and hope that Kathi would reconsider and tell her the problem. And from the way Kathi was hurrying through her packing, it didn’t seem likely that she would.

  Kathi felt Bev’s eyes on her, and she fought the urge to confide in her friend. It was true that Bev might be just the person to understand, but how could she take that chance? What if Bev thought she was crazy and called David? Then he’d know that things weren’t as she had pretended. Then she’d have to tell him everything and risk losing him. She couldn’t take that risk now, not when she needed him so desperately.

  “Well, I guess that just about does it.” Kathi sighed, making a final circle of the room and picking up a vase of straw flowers and a scarf that she had forgotten. “If anyone asks, I’m still living here until after the election. All right?”

  “Right,” Bev agreed. “Are you going to spend the break campaigning for your father?”

  “Well . . . I haven’t really decided yet,” Kathi answered evasively. “That depends on a lot of things. I’ll be in touch though. I already called Viv and my dad and told them I had to stay here to work on a project. I just couldn’t stand to spend the whole break in Los Angeles.”

  There was an undercurrent of desperation in Kathi’s voice that made Bev raise her eyebrows again. Kathi seemed so anxious—almost haunted—as she stood there in the middle of the stripped room, a desolate figure with her head bowed and her eyes fixed on the tiled floor. Even though Bev’s better instincts told her not to pry, she had to ask again.

  “What’s wrong, Kathi? Please tell me. I’ve never seen you look so down before, and it makes me feel like crying just to look at you. Isn’t there something I could do to help? Wouldn’t it at least help to talk about it?”

  “I . . . I don’t think so,” Kathi replied. What could she say? That she was pregnant and didn’t dare tell David until she knew for certain what Sheri Walker’s spirit wanted with her? Just thinking it sounded so insane, that Kathi couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. This was her problem, and she had to deal with it herself.

  “Damn!” Bev muttered, digging in the desk drawer for a piece of paper and a pencil. “Here,” she offered, scribbling a number on a scrap of paper. “Here’s my parents’ number in Phoenix. Call me if there’s anything I can do, will you? And even if you think I can’t help, call me if you need to talk to someone. Will you promise to do that?”

  “It’s really not that serious,” Kathi answered, trying to lie convincingly and knowing that she wasn’t fooling Bev at all. “Really, Bev . . . there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll work it out.”

  “Sure you will,” Bev nodded. “But take the number anyway. Sometimes it just helps to hear a friend’s voice, and I’m your friend, Kathi, whether you believe it or not.”

  “I know you are,” Kathi said softly, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re a good friend, and if I could talk about this to anyone, it would be you. I just want you to know that.”

  “Christ!” Bev muttered, wiping her eyes on her shirt sleeve. “Look at the two of us! You’d think we were at a funeral the way we’re carrying on.”

  A cold chill settled in Kathi’s mind at Bev’s words. It wasn’t exactly like they were at a funeral. It was more like she was saying good-bye to Bev for the last time, as if she had some terminal illness and wouldn’t live long enough to see her friend again. The feeling was hideous.

  “I-I’d better hurry,” Kathi said quickly, picking up her purse and heading for the door. “I promised David I’d be home in an hour. He’s set on taking me to the Alameda County Fair this afternoon, and you know how David is when he makes up his mind to do something. There’s no getting out of it.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Bev said, puzzled. “Don’t you want to go, Kathi? The fair is super. They’ve got all sorts of rides and sideshows. Roger and I even went to a fortune-teller. That was an absolute panic. She told me that I was going to fall in love with a short, dark man with hair on his face, so for the rest of the afternoon Roger slouched, and he didn’t shave for a week.”

  Kathi knew it was funny, but not that funny. She could feel the laughter bubble up inside her and burst out hysterically. She had to stop laughing, but her self-control was slipping by the minute, and she couldn’t seem to get a grip on herself. Finally, clenching her teeth, she began to calm down, but even as the laughter subsided, the pain at her temples began. She had to get away before something happened.

  “I . . . I really have to run, Bev,” Kathi apologized. “The fair does sound like fun. I just didn’t want to go out anywhere, but I’m sure I’ll have a good time once I’m there.”

  Kathi hurried back down the corridor after Bev made her promise once more to call if there was anything she could do. The dorm was even more crowded now, and as she pushed her way past well-dressed groups of parents, she felt as if she were moving in place, walking on an endless treadmill. The groups of people were closing in on her, making her feel faint and light-headed. And still, that throbbing ache in her head was there, driving her forward with the pain until she burst from the front doors like a caged bird making a desperate bid for freedom.

  Kathi saw the man in the plaid jacket again, but his face did not register in her mind as it had before. She rushed past him and fled toward the Child Care Center on the edge of campus. She stopped there at the playground and watched, out of breath and panting. The center was run by volunteers, freeing student mothers to attend classes. She had worked there last semester herself.

  There were only a few children playing outside today, and Kathi paused, shaking three aspirins out of the bottle in her purse and sinking down on a bench, not even bothering to get a drink of water from the fountain to wash them down. The pills tasted bitter, but somehow she made her throat work noisily to swallow. She would sit right here and wait until her headache lessened a bit. Then she would go back to the apartment. David would be waiting for her, and Kathi knew that she couldn’
t face him in this condition. She was almost ready to burst into tears with Bev’s kind words ringing in her ears.

  Abruptly, her mind went blank. Kathi felt a prickling at the base of her neck, and her knees turned weak. Did she dare get up and walk the few blocks to her apartment, or . . . was Sheri Walker coming? No, it would be better to sit here for a while. At least there was no one to see her here. The children were playing so intently that they hadn’t even noticed her. She would be safe here, safe from prying eyes, just in case.

  A little boy was watching the swings enviously. Kathi could see the desire in his eyes. He wanted to swing, but he was too small to lift himself up and grasp the chains. If she had been feeling better, she would have gone to him and lifted him up high, teaching him how to pull himself up by the chains until he could sit on the board. She had taught someone that once . . . someone . . . sometime . . .

  The older girl on the swing was pumping her feet now, swinging higher and higher, back and forth in a steadily widening rhythm. Knees back, knees straight, knees back, knees straight . . . up, down, up, down . . . over and over and over . . . the arc pulsing in time with the throbbing ache in her head . . . swinging higher and higher . . .

  “. . . all by myself now. I don’t need you to push me and lift me up. I can do it all by myself now. Aren’t I a big girl?”

  The man in the plaid jacket stood by a tree and watched her intently. Harry wanted a complete report on her. It didn’t seem all that important, Kathi stopping to rest on the playground bench and watch the children at play. He didn’t think there was anything Harry would want to know about this, until he heard the childish giggle push past her lips.

  He moved closer. Something was happening here, and he wasn’t sure what. She seemed not to hear his approach at all. Her eyes were staring vacantly at the swings, and her face was completely blank.