by Debra Webb
“I’ll find it.” He reached for the door handle.
“Whatever you or I believe, Liam,” she said, waylaying him, “someone sent that article to you. Someone knows something about you and your past. Maybe something you don’t even know, the way you didn’t know about the birthmark. You can’t just walk away from this.”
“Yes, I can. Coming here was a mistake.” He opened the door.
“Andy’s mother is sick. She needs to know,” she said. “Are you going to just walk away and pretend it doesn’t matter one way or the other?”
He looked at her then. “Yes.”
He climbed out of her car and strode to his. This wild-goose chase was over.
* * *
GETTING A ROOM was quick and easy.
He threw his bag onto the bed and collapsed next to it. He closed his eyes and struggled to banish all the voices and images from his head. None of this was real. It couldn’t be real. This must be a mistake. Someone’s twisted idea of a joke.
His cell vibrated and he tugged it from his pocket. If it was Halle...
Claire.
“Hey.”
“Why haven’t you called me? I’ve been going crazy with worry. What did you find out? Did that reporter send you the article?”
He rubbed his head with his free hand. God, he needed a drink. “I was having dinner with the reporter and her family, and no, she didn’t send me the article. That part is still a mystery.”
The dead air space told him that his mystery-loving sister was not satisfied.
“I should have come with you. I’m better at this sort of thing than you.”
“Claire—”
“I’ve been through all the family papers. All the photo albums. I’m telling you there are no photos of you between when you were a baby and seven years old. Something is wrong with this, Liam. You have a right to know what that is.”
“What if I don’t want to know?” There was no way he was telling her about the birthmark. Lots of kids had birthmarks. So what if he had the same kind in the same place as this Andy Clark? That didn’t mean anything.
“You’re in denial. I should call Mom. She has to know what really happened. If this is some ridiculous joke someone is playing on you, she’ll know. If it’s not, she’ll know.”
“Do you actually think she would tell you if she and Dad stole a seven-year-old kid? Come on now, Claire. That’s a little far-fetched even for you.”
“Is it? It wouldn’t be the first secret they kept from us.”
This was unfortunately true. They’d kept the news about his dad’s illness a secret until he was hardly able to get out of the bed.
Liam recalled another incident that Claire wouldn’t remember. When Liam was twelve he’d made friends with the son of one of the summer workers. The kid and his father suddenly disappeared—didn’t show up for work, rental house was empty—and Liam’s father had said they’d had to leave because of a family emergency. Later, Liam had overheard some of the workers whispering about how the boy had been a kidnap victim. The parents had divorced and the father had disappeared with him to prevent the mother from getting sole custody. When Liam demanded the truth from his father, he’d explained that he was concerned Liam would be traumatized by the news.
He’d been traumatized all right. It was the first time his father had lied to him.
Or was it?
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Liam said. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“See you then but I’m still phoning Mom,” his sister warned.
Liam ended the call and fell back on the bed. He needed rest, oblivion. He had hardly dozed since receiving that article.
A good night’s sleep would give him a new perspective.
THEN
“ALL I HAVE to do is say I do?”
This was kind of weird but if it made Halle happy, he was cool with it. She was his best friend.
“Yes. I’ll ask a question and you say ‘I do.’ Then you ask me a question and I say ‘I do.’”
Her wild hair was like a lion’s mane framing her face. It made him smile. Sometimes when they were watching TV he would try his best to count her freckles. He always lost count. Kind of like when they tried counting stars.
“Okay.” He smiled. “Ask me and I’ll say it.”
Halle straightened her dress. It was really her mother’s dress. It was all white and had lots of lace. He’d never seen Mrs. Lane wear it before. No matter that it was way too big, Halle looked pretty.
“Give me a minute to remember,” she said, making a face like she was concentrating real hard.
“Oh yeah. Do you take this woman—” she pointed to her chest “—that’s me, to be your lif’ful wedded wife?”
He frowned. “What’s lif’ful?”
She shook her head, her hair flying with the move. “I dunno. Just say I do.”
He nodded. “I do.”
She grinned. “Now you ask me.”
“Do you take this woman—” he began.
“Not woman, silly,” she chided. “Man! You’re the man.”
“Oh yeah. Do you take this man to be your lif’ful wedded wife?”
She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Husband, not wife!”
He laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe.
Her face told him he was not funny.
“Okay, okay. Do you take this man to be your lif’ful wedded husband?”
Her grin was back. “I do!”
He stood there a moment. “Now what?”
“Ah...oh yeah. Now I ’nounce you husband and wife.”
“Does that mean we’re married now?”
She frowned. “Wait. There’s one more part. You gotta kiss the bride.”
He glanced around, confused. “What’s a bride?”
“Me, silly!”
“Oh.” He frowned. “Like on the lips?”
She nodded.
He shrugged. “That’s kind of gross, but okay.”
She closed her eyes, her lips puckered and lifted toward him.
This was the silliest thing...
He wiped his mouth, puckered his lips and leaned forward. He kissed her the way his mom always kissed him. Just a quick touch of lips.
She opened her eyes and smiled. “Now we’re married forever and ever.”
Chapter Five
NOW
Nancy Clark drew the covers back and sat down on the bed. She was tired tonight. More tired than usual.
She looked around the room. She’d pulled all those boxes down from the top shelf of the closet, which was probably why she was so tired. A woman her age had no business climbing up and down from a chair.
But she’d needed to look. To hold those precious keepsakes just once more.
Halle had promised to come back any time she wanted to start part two of her story—Andy’s story, really. Nancy had decided to call her tomorrow. She would show her the things in the boxes and she would tell her the rest of the story. All of it, not leaving a single part out.
It was time.
She’d seen him on the back porch of the Lane home. She’d been sitting in the dark on her own back porch, watching. Her patience had paid off. She’d gotten to see him three times. Going into the Lane home, going out to Halle’s apartment over the garage and then again as he’d left for the night.
He was so handsome. He had grown into a fine man. Andrew would be proud.
Goodness, how she missed him. After two years one would expect that she’d gotten used to being alone, but that was not the case. She missed her husband. Wept for him every night. As hard as she tried to maintain her composure, she would lie down at night, and just as she drifted off, the memories would fill her head. He had loved her so much. Been so good to her even after that horrible day.
&nb
sp; Andrew had been a fine husband. A very good father.
It had hurt the two of them to go on after that day, but it had been the right thing to do. They had both recognized how important it was to press forward. Looking back would only add to their pain.
She sighed and fluffed her pillow, then turned off the lamp on the bedside table. She always slept with the door open and the bathroom light on. The glow filtering into the hallway cut the darkness without being right in her face. At her age, she didn’t want to go stumbling around in the dark.
Tomorrow she would call Halle and maybe she would get to see him up close. Touch him even. Wouldn’t that be nice? Then she would have Judith take her to the cemetery so she could tell Andrew all about it.
Their boy was home.
A shadow suddenly blocked the light.
Nancy’s head jerked up. She couldn’t see the face but someone was standing in her doorway. She yelped and grabbed for the lamp on the bedside table. One tug of the chain and it came on.
Then she recognized him, even after so many years. “What’re you doing here?”
“We had a deal, Nancy. You and I and Andrew. Andrew kept his end of the deal, took it to the grave with him, but it appears you have not.”
He moved a step closer to the bed and she wished the telephone extension was on her side of the bed, but it was not. It was on Andrew’s side. She had never moved it.
“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. The one rule was that you were never to speak of it again. Never. To no one. Not even each other.”
But they had. She and Andrew had spoken about it many times, inside with the doors and windows closed and the lights turned out.
“I haven’t told anyone. You read the article. You know what I told the reporter. Nothing important.”
He glanced around her room, spotted the baby blanket. “Oh, Nancy. Dear Nancy. You brought him back here and now there will be questions. A new investigation, perhaps. This won’t do. It won’t do at all.”
Courage rose inside her. “We made a mistake. All of us. What you did to that...that woman was on you. We didn’t ask you to do that.”
He moved closer still.
Nancy pulled the bedcovers to her chest as if the well-washed cotton could somehow protect her.
“But I did and now we have a problem.”
Fear crept up her spine. “It’s your problem, not mine.”
He nodded. “You’re correct and now I’m going to fix it.”
Chapter Six
NOW
Friday, March 13
Halle grabbed her shoulder bag, tucked her phone inside and started for the door. She’d hardly slept last night. She’d wanted to call him or go to the hotel and shake him, make him listen.
He was being unreasonable. This was all strange and unsettling but there was no point in denying what was obvious. Liam Hart was Andy Clark.
Her cell rang and she tugged it from her bag as she reached the door. Mom flashed on the screen. Frowning, she accepted the call. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
“I know you’re probably getting ready to leave for work.”
“Leaving now,” Halle confirmed. Her mother’s voice sounded strange. “Is everything okay?”
“The police and an ambulance are next door. Your father has gone over to find out what’s happened.”
Was Mrs. Clark ill? Why hadn’t she called for help? Halle and her parents had urged her over the years to call if she ever needed anything. “I’m heading there now.”
Halle ended the call and shoved the phone back into her bag. She hurried out the door, almost forgot to lock it and double-timed it down the stairs. Poor Mrs. Clark, all alone and unable to protect or help herself. As she reached the front yard, another vehicle was turning into the drive next door.
The bold lettering on the side of the van stopped her cold.
CORONER.
“Oh, God.” Ice gushed through her veins.
Her feet were suddenly moving again. She bounded across Mrs. Clark’s yard, up the steps and onto the porch. Halle was through the open front door before the officer who was supposed to be guarding the scene noticed her. He was at the far end of the porch, vomiting.
The coppery odor of blood filled her lungs the instant she hit the hallway beyond the living room.
Low voices echoed from the kitchen. Halle changed directions and went into the kitchen instead of down the hall to the bedrooms. Eileen Brewster sat at the table, her face in her hands. Eileen cleaned house for Mrs. Clark once a week. Always on Fridays. A lump swelled in Halle’s throat.
The man talking to Eileen looked up. Chief of Police William Brannigan—Billy, everyone called him.
“What’s going on, Chief?” Her voice sounded oddly small. She suddenly wondered where her father was.
“Halle,” he said with a nod. “Your daddy is out on the back porch. Maybe you should go out there and talk to him for a minute while Ms. Brewster and I finish up.”
Halle nodded and moved quickly through the room. Brannigan’s voice softened once more as he spoke gently to Eileen.
Howard Lane stood at the railing, looking out over the Clarks’ backyard as well as their own. She and Andy used to stand on their porches at night and send each other flashlight signals. When Halle neared her father she saw the dampness on his cheeks. Oh no. Oh no.
“What happened, Daddy?”
He looked up, pulled Halle into his arms. “Someone came into the house last night and killed Nancy.”
Halle drew back. “Oh my God. Who would do such a thing? Was it a robbery?”
Her father shook his head. “We don’t know yet. The house wasn’t ransacked. But boxes had been taken out of her closet and sat around the floor in her bedroom.”
“Eileen found her?” Poor Eileen. Halle could only imagine the horror.
Howard nodded. “After several knocks on the door with no answer, she figured Nancy was away from the house for some reason, so she unlocked the door and let herself in. She said whoever killed her had taken a knife and cut her throat right there in her own bed.”
Halle blinked fast, imagining the horror of it. She couldn’t conceive anyone hurting Mrs. Clark. She had never done anything to hurt anyone. She was a beloved fixture in their community. The poor woman who lost her only child.
“This is crazy.” Her next thought was that now Nancy would never know that Andy was still alive. No matter whether Liam wanted to believe or not, Halle was certain. He was the lost boy.
The back door opened and Chief Brannigan came outside. “Howard, can you take Eileen home? She’s in no condition to drive.”
“Sure. Sure.” Howard scrubbed at his face. “Your mother’s going to be devastated.”
Halle agreed. Though Nancy and Judith hadn’t been as close since Andy vanished, they were still good friends.
When her father was gone, Chief Brannigan turned to Halle. “I read your article.”
Halle managed a nod. “Audrey told me.” Her boss had said that the chief and the sheriff had read the article with interest.
“I told Audrey I was happy to let Luther Holcomb know you wanted to talk to him whenever you’re ready.”
“I would appreciate that, Chief. Mrs. Clark was excited about the possibility of finally finding the rest of the story.”
“She had pulled out a bunch of boxes from her closet. Did she do that for you?”
Halle shook her head. “We talked, looked at photo albums but nothing more. When I came by on Sunday, she wanted to show me something in Andy’s room. A photo of the two of us that had been his favorite. I passed her room on the way to Andy’s and there were no boxes then. Just the bed and a dresser, a couple of nightstands.”
The officer who’d been vomiting came around the corner of the house. “Burt’s taking th
e body now, Chief.”
“Good. Thanks, Sails.” Brannigan turned to Halle. “I need to speak with Burt for a moment and then I’ll be right back. Before I go, can you tell me if this visitor from California—this Liam Hart—is still in Winchester?”
“I’m not sure. He has a flight back home leaving from Nashville today, but he didn’t say what time. He may still be at the hotel.”
“If he’s still here, see if you can get him to my office.”
Halle stared after the chief as he strode back inside. Why would the chief of police want to talk to Liam? Who’d mentioned him to Brannigan—her father?
Certainly he had nothing to do with Mrs. Clark’s death...
Halle drew out her phone and made the call. It went to voice mail. She hung up and called again. He could be at breakfast or in the shower. This time she left a message. “Liam, this is Halle. Something’s happened.” She decided not to tell him about the murder. “Chief of Police Brannigan would like to meet with you in his office at City Hall. If you haven’t left yet, please come. I’ll be there, too.” She hesitated. Instead of goodbye, she said, “See you there.”
By the time Halle put her phone away, the chief was back at the door. “You mind coming inside again?”
Rather than answer, she followed him inside. He paused in the middle of the kitchen, his trademark hat on the table.
“Audrey told me this Liam fellow showed up with a copy of your article that someone apparently sent him anonymously.”
At least that explained how he knew about Liam’s arrival.
Before she could say anything, he said, “Ro and I had dinner with Audrey and Colt last night. She wanted to bring me up to speed.”
Tanya, Halle decided. She hadn’t spoken to Audrey about Liam until this morning. Tanya must have told her after he barged into the office last evening. Since Audrey hadn’t known the rest until this morning, Brannigan had obviously called her after coming here.
“Did you speak to her again this morning?” Halle asked to confirm her conclusion.
