New Leaf

by Catherine Anderson

  Barney vaguely remembered reading somewhere that antibiotics had the potential to decrease the effectiveness of birth-control pills, so at least this part of her story rang true to him. He just wasn’t sure why she was telling him all this. He sensed that she wanted something from him, but he couldn’t imagine what.

  “Phillip was furious,” she said shakily. “He demanded that I get an abortion. I flatly refused, and our marriage, already on the rocks, completely fell apart. He stopped coming home except for when his parents came to visit. No matter what, he had to keep his dad convinced that he was a loving husband and an eager father-to-be.” Her eyes swam with tears, and she avoided meeting Barney’s gaze. He got the impression she didn’t often cry and felt embarrassed for letting him see her on the verge.

  “When our daughter, Sarah, was born, his parents fell completely in love with her. Phillip pretended to love her, too, whenever his parents were around, but in between those visits, he barely came home often enough for Sarah to know him as daddy. He only showed up when his folks would be around, and then he played his role as a devoted family man to the hilt.”

  “Where are you going with this, Taffeta?”

  She gave him a pleading look. “I know it’s a long story, Barney, but please, please hear me out.”

  Nodding reluctantly, Barney said, “Go for it. The evening’s still young. But I think we should order some food.”

  Since his date didn’t seem interested in the menu, Barney perused the selections and ordered spaghetti and meatballs for them both. He ignored the wine selection and settled for drinking water. They both had to drive home, and the way this conversation was going so far, he’d need the clearest possible head. When the waitress left, Taffeta resumed telling her tale.

  “I never lied to you, Barney. I’m divorced. I have a little girl. Phillip was granted custody. It was my plan to get Sarah back as soon as I could.”

  He took a sip of water. As he set down his glass, he said, “So you were convicted of abusing your child.” It was a statement, not a question, and Barney felt sick to his stomach. He had been attracted to this gal, deeply attracted.

  “Yes,” she confessed, “but I’m not guilty.”

  That was what they all said, and Barney had been around that block too many times to fall for it. He kept his expression neutral.

  “During my pregnancy, Phillip stopped bothering to hide his infidelities. He knew I wanted to provide stability for our daughter and wouldn’t leave him. I had no money of my own. I hadn’t finished my education. I couldn’t properly raise a child while waiting tables at a sports bar. And I honestly no longer cared who my husband slept with. I contented myself with being a homemaker and a mother. I figured I could stay in the marriage for Sarah’s sake.

  “What I didn’t count on was Phillip developing an attachment to another woman. She was a blonde named Melanie who looked— Well, I know it sounds judgmental, but she looked like a hooker. I guess Phillip found her a lot more exciting than me, because he wanted out so he could marry her. Only that was sticky because he knew his father would stop cutting him big checks if he divorced me. Both his dad and mom liked me. In order to get out without pissing off his father, Phillip needed an inarguable reason.”

  “I see,” Barney said, but in truth, he didn’t see anything clearly and felt as confused as hell.

  “One night when Sarah was three, she got up after I’d put her down for the night, unfastened the safety gate on the upstairs landing, and fell down the condo stairs. She was bruised up and had a gash on her head that bled like anything. I was terrified. Ambulance response took fifteen to twenty minutes. I didn’t know scalp wounds often look worse than they actually are, and I knew she needed medical attention. I bundled her in a blanket and drove her to the hospital myself.

  “I was frantic to get in touch with Phillip. I didn’t phone him often, but even so, he seldom answered my calls. He was always too busy bonking other women. Finally an ER receptionist called his cell number, and he answered when he saw the name of the hospital on the caller ID.”

  She glanced away and saw the waitress coming with their food. She wiped under her eyes with her napkin and sat straighter on her stool. After their laden plates were placed on the table, Barney stared at his dinner, feeling as if he had swallowed a toddler’s building block that had stuck at the base of his throat. He wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.

  When the waitress was once again out of earshot, Taffeta said, “I remember being so relieved that Phillip was coming. But when he entered the emergency treatment room, he took one look at Sarah and started yelling that I’d gone too far this time. I didn’t get what he meant. I thought he was mad because he’d gotten pulled away from whatever he was doing at the time. I don’t think I totally realized what he was capable of until the cops came and physically removed me from my daughter’s bedside. They charged me with child abuse, I was put in jail, and because I had no money to hire a good attorney, the court appointed a public defender for me.”

  “There must have been evidence against you, Taffeta. You were convicted of the crime.”

  “Phillip lied,” she said, her voice trembling. “He was still being discreet at that time about his unsavory nightlife. On the surface, he was a successful young lawyer and family man. His father was a greatly respected person in Erickson. Who was the jury going to believe, Phillip, from a well-known local family, who was so suave and convincing, or me? After we got married, I lost touch with my friends at college. The only social contacts I had were with friends of Phillip’s or his parents’ friends. I had no one I could ask to be a character witness for me.”

  “Couldn’t you have asked members of your family?” Barney inserted.

  “I have no family.”

  Barney gave her an incredulous look. “No family? How did that happen?”

  “My birth mother gave me up as an infant for adoption, I wasn’t adopted, and I grew up in foster homes.” She sighed and passed a hand over her brow. “Back to my trial. I was out on bail by then, but all my things were still at the condo and Phillip wouldn’t let me in to get my clothes. I had little money, no decent clothing, no hair tools. I was a mess compared to Phillip in his expensive suit. He got on the stand and testified that I had abused Sarah countless times. He said he’d hoped that it would stop happening, but instead it only got worse. Then he said I went too far. He even sobbed and wept, as if what had happened to Sarah completely broke his heart. He claimed that he could no longer pretend or keep my behavior a secret. Next time I might kill our daughter.”

  “And the judge believed him? You were convicted of abusing your daughter on his testimony alone?”

  “Yes. Mostly, anyway. Sarah did have cuts and bruises from the fall. And she had been taken to the ER twice before for treatment after she’d had accidents, once at a playground and once by the condo kiddy pool. Phillip swore that even those injuries had been inflicted on his daughter by me. The hospital records were inconclusive and looked bad for me, especially when Phillip’s attorney put his own spin on them.” She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “When those two earlier incidents occurred, I didn’t think I’d ever need witnesses to testify that I didn’t cause my child’s injuries, and by the time of my trial, I couldn’t recall the names of the people who’d seen what happened.”

  Barney knew that eyewitness testimony was sometimes enough to get someone convicted of a crime, but normally the court also wanted at least some physical evidence. “Did your daughter’s cuts and bruises look like injuries she might have gotten from a beating?”

  “The ER doctor said that they could have been inflicted by a fall down the stairs or by a beating. He couldn’t be sure which. But he also said that to his knowledge he’d never had a person falsely accuse a spouse of abusing a child. What reason would Phillip have to tell such a horrible lie?”

  Barney sat back in his chair to study her. Now that he�
��d heard the whole story, he supposed that she could be telling the truth. He just wasn’t sure why she was involving him.

  “The judge was lenient with me,” she went on. “I guess they often are with first-time offenders. I got five years of probation plus mandatory attendance at anger management counseling bimonthly. Phillip immediately started brainwashing Sarah to be terrified of me. I was granted monthly court-supervised visitations with my daughter, but with each visit she was so increasingly traumatized by seeing me that I finally decided I was doing more harm than good. It was the hardest choice I’ve ever made, but I had to think of what was best for my little girl. People in Erickson thought I was guilty. They hated me. I couldn’t even go to a grocery store without something unpleasant happening. When a man spat at my feet and an older woman on a sidewalk called me a monster, I petitioned the court for permission to relocate. Permission was granted, and I was appointed a probation officer and counselor in Crystal Falls. That’s when I came to Mystic Creek. I used a small divorce settlement from Phillip, which he gave me only to make himself look good, to lease my shop and start my business.”

  Barney forked up a bite of spaghetti. It tasted like cardboard with a drizzle of grease on top. Offhand, he couldn’t remember when he’d pegged somebody so wrong. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rotten time of it,” Barney offered. “But I still don’t see how I can possibly help.”

  She leaned closer. “I hired a private investigator to keep me updated on Sarah’s well-being. He called me this morning. I knew Phillip had divorced Melanie, but I had no idea that his father had finally gotten fed up and stopped giving him money. I also didn’t know that Phillip’s mom, Grace, is gravely ill and unable to care for Sarah. They’ve been taking care of Sarah for Phillip since his divorce. His dad is, of course, distraught over his wife’s health. Phillip had no choice but to step in and provide care for his daughter. But he’s doing a horrible job of it, leaving Sarah with one strange woman after another. My investigator says rumor has it that Phillip is maintaining his fancy lifestyle by dealing in drugs now that his dad won’t cough up any more cash. I suspected Phillip dabbled in recreational drugs during our marriage, but this is even lower than I would have thought he would stoop.

  “Sarah—she’s only five, Barney. The girlfriends who are taking care of her may be using drugs while she’s with them. Sarah is missing a lot of preschool because Phillip can’t be bothered with taking her to class every morning. Her teacher says she isn’t getting along well with other kids. She’s acting out and dressing inappropriately, whatever that means. In short, my little girl is in a very perilous situation, and no matter what it takes, I have to try to get her out of there.”

  Barney turned his glass, staring into the remaining water. “How do you think I can help?” he asked. He’d known from the start of this conversation that she wanted something. Now maybe she’d spit it out. “Shoot.”

  “You’re a deputy.”

  He sighed and gave his glass another turn. “Being a law officer doesn’t empower me to cure all the problems of the world. I can’t bust Phillip for using and selling drugs unless I catch him in the act, and Erickson is way out of my jurisdiction.”

  Her gaze clung to his. “You don’t understand, Barney. I don’t want you to bust Phillip. You’re a respected man in Mystic Creek. If you and I were together, it would make me look more squared away and respectable. I might have a chance of getting custody with you standing beside me. I’m not talking about a real marriage, at least not a permanent commitment. It would be only temporary, and of course I would grant you conjugal rights for the duration. Once I get Sarah, we can get a quiet divorce.”

  Somewhere in the middle of this announcement, Barney knew his jaw had dropped open. Of all the things he might have expected her to say, this wasn’t it. Now he was glad they had come in separate cars, because all he wanted was to get the hell away from her and her wild stories and even wilder ideas.

  A pretend marriage? Was she out of her mind? He believed in the sanctity of matrimony. For him, it was a forever deal. On top of that, his parents frowned upon divorce unless it was absolutely unavoidable. They would be extremely upset if he married a woman and then divorced her a year or so later. In fact, he reflected rapidly, upset didn’t describe it by half. If his mother thought he was at fault, she would shorten him by a head, deputy or no deputy.

  “A marriage with benefits?” Barney heard the outrage that rang in his voice, but for the life of him, staying calm was impossible. “I’m sorry, lady, but what the hell makes you think I’m that hard up?” He pushed off the stool. “My answer is no. Not now, not ever.”

  “Please, Barney, don’t go. At least think about it before you turn me down. My little girl is in danger!”

  Barney grabbed his jacket and shoved his arms into the sleeves with a lot more force than was necessary. “And I’m really sad to know that. But bottom line is, she’s not my problem. When you said you had a proposition for me, I never for an instant suspected that it would be something this crazy.” He turned for the door, stopping only long enough to drop a couple of twenties on the table. Over his shoulder, he said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  • • •

  Taffeta was shaking so violently after Barney stormed out that she knew she shouldn’t drive. She sat alone at the table, staring at the grease bleeding off her untouched meatballs and spaghetti. The smell alone made her want to gag. She felt so stupid, not to mention frightened, rejected, and totally humiliated. Barney Sterling now had it within his power to destroy her future in Mystic Creek, and she had handed over the information to him on a silver platter. What had she been thinking?

  Taffeta’s only excuse was that she felt completely and utterly desperate. Stepping back from her daughter’s life was one thing when she thought it was the only option for her daughter’s well-being. But she’d missed her terribly every day they’d been apart and now Sarah needed her. Asking Barney to pretend they were in a serious relationship had seemed like her only hope. Taffeta could think of no other way she might stand a chance of contesting Phillip’s custody. As Barney’s wife, she might have had a shot. She certainly wouldn’t have a prayer if she filed for custody as a single mother who had already been convicted on one count of child abuse.

  Taffeta recalled all the lonely nights that she had endured during her marriage to Phillip. Now he was abandoning Sarah in the same way. Even worse, he was leaving her with strangers who were possibly abusing drugs. Had she failed to drive that point home to Barney? She hadn’t offered him sex because she thought he was hard up for it. She had offered it as a way of paying him back if he helped her.

  Her heart sank when she thought of what her little girl might be witnessing right now. Oh, Sarah. She was a confused little girl who couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend why her daddy didn’t love her and resented being around her. And what line of bull was Phillip feeding the women he was using to watch his kid? Taffeta could almost hear him. “The firm is litigating an important lawsuit. My mom is gravely ill. My dad’s falling apart. While I burn the midnight oil to do all the casework, I need someone to look after my child.” How would those girlfriends react toward Sarah when they discovered Phillip wasn’t working, but was instead having a fine time with some other woman? Taffeta was particularly worried about Sarah’s caregivers being under the influence. They could be violent. It was a bad situation for Sarah all the way around.

  Taffeta finally composed herself enough to feel safe behind the wheel. As she drove back to Mystic Creek, her mind kept circling one question over and over.

  What would Barney do with all the information that she’d given him? He had never promised that he would keep what she told him a secret.

  If he chose, Barney Sterling could destroy the solid reputation she was trying so hard to rebuild.

  Chapter Five

  Barney fumed half the way home, until he realized he was doing fifteen
miles an hour over the speed limit. He jammed his foot on the brake, pulled over briefly, and smacked his free hand against the dashboard. A speeding ticket would look just great in the personnel file of a county deputy, and he’d be damned if he’d give Miss Taffeta Brown the satisfaction of being responsible for a mark against his character.

  He rolled down his window and took several head-cleansing gulps of cold air before he calmed down enough to think straight. He had heard some tall tales in his time. Either the Brown woman had an unrivaled imagination or she was—just possibly—leveling with him. Not that it would make much difference, either way, but at least then he wouldn’t feel so repulsed by her that he couldn’t be her friend.

  When he reached the outskirts of Mystic Creek, he took a right off North Huckleberry onto Creek Crossing Road to stop by the department headquarters. Before he ran home to feed his horses and fell exhausted into bed, he intended to do a little research on Taffeta Brown.

  When Barney entered the building, Doreen glanced up over a bank of monitors, momentarily ignoring the voice of Serena Paul, another deputy, that came over the radio. She smiled at him, and snapped her bubble gum. Her curly red hair gleamed in the fluorescent lights that hummed softly above her. “Hey there, Deputy Barney. Have you taken time to polish that bullet in your pocket today?”

  Barney walked straight past the woman without speaking. Myriad smells drifted through the rear desk area when he stepped inside. Someone had ordered in pizza from Wood Fyre Delights, a parlor a little west of there. He saw the crumpled box stuffed in a trash can. The unmistakable aroma of a hamburger and fries also assaulted his nostrils. His empty stomach snarled in response.

  Sheriff Adams, an older man who had developed a paunch, emerged from his office preceded by his belt buckle. His thinning brown hair, now threaded with silver, sported a circular indentation from the Stetson he normally wore. “What are you doing here, Sterling?”