“I will,” Chloe said in a whine as she headed out the door.
“Emma’s mother and I always text each other when the girls arrive anyway,” Ally said confidentially.
She then led Belle out onto the deck with the Moscato chilling in a bucket. They sat on an outdoor loveseat on the small patio as the setting sun burned orange over distant treetops. After Ally filled their glasses, they kicked back and relaxed on the loveseat shoulder to shoulder.
“She’s an awesome kid,” Belle said. “I can see why you’re so in love.”
“I don’t know how she’s such an awesome kid after all she’s been through.”
“Ally, after two hours in your company, I see how. You’re a great mother to her—loving, supportive, protective, and not overly indulgent. If she doesn’t grow up normal, then none of us ever had any hope.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. You’re a testament to the power of a dedicated single parent. And your admiration for each other is enviable. For real.”
Ally kissed her. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you. For getting me and understanding what I’m trying to do.”
Belle shrugged, earnestly not knowing why Ally was making such a fuss. Maybe she was buzzed. Lord knows she would be if she had to raise someone else’s kid.
“It’s amazing what you’re trying to do,” Belle said.
Ally kissed her again, and the warm sweetness of her wine-glazed lips whetted her appetite for more than dessert.
“So…Chloe’s sleeping over at her friend’s, tonight,” Ally said.
“I gathered that. Does this mean we can have a sleepover of our own?”
“Did you bring your peejays?”
“Nope,” Belle said with a devilish grin.
“Good.”
She gently nibbled Ally’s lobe, adding a whisper of warm breath in her ear.
Ally shivered and let out a soft moan. “How about we have our next glass inside? My bathtub seats two.”
Belle smiled and drained her glass.
Ally watched, her eyes radiating with urgency.
Chapter Ten
The romantic Friday sleepover with Ally followed by an action-packed Saturday with Ally and Chloe horseback riding granted Belle a reprieve from the anxiety of waiting to hear from Craig’s sister.
As Sunday morning peeked through her window, she awoke smiling. Spending time with Ally and her niece was wonderfully therapeutic for her mind—for her body not so much. She stretched under the sheets, and the muscles in her back voiced their objections in a chorus of aches. Still, she was already anticipating her next outing with them.
She reached for her phone charging on the nightstand to let Ally know she was on her mind. Lately, she was the first thing to meander into Belle’s consciousness the moment she woke each morning. Was it too soon in the relationship to be texting her before she even rolled out of bed? She didn’t want to come across as a nudge, but God, she really wanted a text from Ally saying she’d been thinking about her, too.
Before she could decide, her phone chimed with an out-of-state number. She almost hit “decline,” assuming it was a solicitor until she remembered Craig’s sister. She sprang up in bed and bobbled the phone as she pressed “accept” in her haste.
“Hello, Isabelle? This is Craig Wheeler’s sister, Charlene.”
“Oh, hi. Thank you so much for calling back.”
“I’m sorry for the early hour, but I’m leaving for the airport in a little while.”
“No, that’s fine. I know how busy you must’ve been on your visit. I’m glad you found time to call me back.”
“My brother said you’re Judy Ashford’s niece?”
“Cousin. Well, my dad is Judy’s first cousin.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Hey, could we meet up near the airport for a cup of coffee before you go?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I have to drop off my rental and get the shuttle to the airport.”
“What if I meet you at the rental place? We can grab a cup of coffee on that main road, and then I’ll drop you off at your terminal.”
“Um, well, I really can’t miss my flight. It’s at 3:20.”
Belle glanced at her clock and was able to convince her that seven hours was a wide-enough window to squeeze in twenty minutes for coffee and still make her flight.
Early that afternoon, as Charlene stirred a Splenda into her black coffee, Belle studied her, noting the often-overlooked nuances of an attractive woman in her early sixties: mauve manicured nails, expensive makeup downplaying slight wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, hands dotted with light-brown spots that betrayed her younger appearance.
That could’ve been Judy sitting across from her.
“Were you and Judy still friends when she died?”
“Oh, yes. We met in the second grade and remained close until she passed.”
“Do you have memories of when it happened?”
The shift in her facial features answered for her. “I’ll never forget it. I called the house that day because I hadn’t talked to her in a few days, which was odd for us. I phoned a few times in the afternoon, but nobody answered, which was also odd. So I went over there in the early evening. I kept knocking but nobody answered. After about twenty minutes or so, I started back down the driveway. That’s when Father McKeenan’s station wagon pulled into the driveway. He had driven Mrs. Ashford from the hospital because evidently she was too distraught.
“I can’t imagine losing one of my children,” Charlene said, “never mind my only one. I don’t know how she got through it.”
“Did my aunt explain what happened then?”
“No,” she said, as if reliving the fear of that moment. “I got out of there and waited for my mother to tell me.”
“What did she say?”
“That Judy had a sudden illness. But I knew it wasn’t true. I knew what killed her.”
“An overdose?”
“I kept telling her to cool it,” Charlene said. “She was starting to go overboard with the pills.”
“Do you have any idea why?”
She shrugged. “My brother had been away for close to a year, and I think she was trying to cope with him being gone. But looking back now, I think she had some type of depression or maybe was bipolar. Maybe she never properly dealt with the death of her father, being so young when it happened.”
“Had she confided in you about anything else that happened to her that might’ve made her turn to drugs?”
Charlene laughed sardonically. “It was the Woodstock era. We didn’t need a reason to do drugs. They were everywhere. My brother knew a guy. We did speed, ludes, and lots of grass. We even went on a couple of LSD trips together.”
Belle grinned. “You tripped on acid?”
Charlene smiled demurely. “They were crazy times, but we had fun.” Her smile quickly faded. “Only Judy didn’t know when to stop. I’d quit everything a couple of months before, after I had a bad trip and ended up handcuffed in the back of a police car. My father beat up my brother and threatened to send me to the girls’ home. That’s all I needed to hear.”
Looking at this classy older woman who probably drove a Lexus and shopped at Talbot’s, Belle couldn’t envision her freaking out on an acid trip and being tossed into the back of a squad car.
“Her mother had told my family that Judy died from a short illness,” Belle said. “That’s what we all believed until I came up here.”
“I’m not surprised,” Charlene said. “Every parent’s worst nightmare was catching their kid experimenting with drugs. Only the dirty hippie war protesters did that.”
“Did you stay close while she was dating Craig?” Belle heard Ally’s voice in the back of her head warning her not to give away any details relating to the investigation.
“Oh, yeah. It was uncomfortable at first.” She smiled in recollection. “I felt a little like my brother stole my
best friend from me. Judy and I had a few arguments when they started dating exclusively, even stopped talking for a week or two. But that’s what girls do. We got over it.”
“Was she serious about your brother?”
“He was her first love,” Charlene said. “And even though my brother was a couple of years older and had dated other girls, I know she was his first true love, too. Poor Craig was in Vietnam when it happened. I dreaded the idea of having to write and tell him.” She frowned, then absently sipped her coffee.
Belle blinked away the tears stinging her eyes and placed her hand on Charlene’s. “I’m sorry. I hope I’m not dredging up too many painful memories. It’s just that nobody from my family knows much about Judy or my aunt Marion.”
Charlene gave her hand a pat in return. “It’s okay. In a strange way, it’s nice to talk about Judy again. I also have some wonderful memories with her.”
Belle smiled. “That’s what your brother said. You don’t know if Judy ever got pregnant, do you?” She tried to slip that question in smoothly, but all the lube in the world wouldn’t have helped.
Charlene’s reminiscent smile faded. “Pregnant? Why? Did she have an abortion or something?”
“Not that I know of,” Belle said. “She never said anything to you?”
“Well, one time she told me she thought she was. She was so scared. I made it worse by telling her that both her mom and my parents were going to kill her and Craig.”
“But she wasn’t?”
“No. A few days later, she said she got her period, and we never mentioned it again.”
“If she was pregnant, do you think she could’ve hidden it from you?”
Charlene’s brow furrowed. “I doubt it. By the time we started high school she’d got really thin and started wearing outfits that showed off her new figure. That’s what caught Craig’s eye. She’d been chubby while we were in junior high, and she was afraid of being teased in high school, too, so she went on some crash diet.”
Belle scratched her head. She’d been sure Charlene was the missing link in all this. Why didn’t she seem to know anything more? If they were that close, wouldn’t Judy have told her about the pregnancy even if she’d hidden it from everyone else?
“Now that I’m thinking of it,” Charlene said, “if she was pregnant that could’ve been why she overdosed. But it couldn’t have been my brother’s. He’d been gone almost a year when it happened.”
Well, if that were true, it certainly explained why Judy hadn’t confided in her best friend.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m suggesting,” Belle said nervously. “I’m asking because I found something disturbing at the house when I was cleaning. I’m playing amateur detective to see if I can figure out what happened to her.”
“What did you find?”
Uh-oh. Ally’s face flashed through her mind again—her beady eyes, pursed lips, finger of reproach waving in her face. She meant business, and Belle had already used up what was left of Ally’s good will when she’d called Craig. How would she explain this slip to her?
In a panic, Belle began to babble. “Oh, it’s probably nothing. A few scraps of paper with some doodling on it. Something about some guy hurting a girl. Could’ve been a short story of some kind. For all I know, it wasn’t even Judy’s. It could’ve been anyone’s.”
“Do you have it? I’d recognize her handwriting.”
Belle gulped air, knowing it was officially evidence now.
“It’s somewhere at home.”
“Did the note say what happened to her?”
“No. In fact, it was quite vague. It may have been the imagination of a young storyteller,” she said, hoping Charlene would buy that ridiculous excuse.
“I hope so.”
The grim look on Charlene’s face was familiar. Once she recognized it as the same look her brother had on his weeks earlier, Belle suddenly felt like she should wear a black hood and carry a sickle whenever she conversed with one of the Wheelers.
Charlene glanced at her watch. “Well, I suppose I should head to the airport now.”
Belle offered a hand to help her up from the booth and thanked her throughout the five-minute ride to Charlene’s airport terminal.
She was supposed to have supplied Belle with the missing piece, some dredged-up memory of her best friend she’d carefully stored away like an heirloom. If anything was there to be taken out and dusted off, it was flying back to California with Charlene.
Belle sighed and drove off in defeat.
***
When she returned from her recon work, Belle texted Ally to see where she was working, and Ally suggested they meet at the ice cream shop for a frozen yogurt. Belle waited until they ordered and sat on a bench across the street before she broke the news about Craig’s sister.
“How did the downstairs bathroom come out?” Ally asked.
“It’s not quite done yet. I got a little sidetracked.”
“Doing what?” Ally licked her black-raspberry cone.
“Having coffee with Craig Wheeler’s sister.” She tensed up, waiting for Ally’s lecture.
“She agreed to meet you, or am I having frozen yogurt with a kidnapper I’m about to receive a ‘Be on the Lookout’ for?”
Belle giggled. “She agreed. We met before she caught her flight home. Sadly, though, I don’t have any new information that’ll lead us to the guilty party.”
“That’s good, Belle, because you’re not an actual investigator, remember?”
“Yes, I remember. Sheesh.”
They sat quietly for a moment eating their yogurt in the cool shade of a massive old oak tree, Belle afraid to test Ally’s patience any further.
“So?” Ally finally asked. “What did you talk about?”
“Well, since Craig had already told me they had a pregnancy scare once, I asked her if Judy ever told her she was pregnant, figuring maybe she would’ve confided in her best friend. But Judy told her the same thing, a pregnancy scare.” She paused for a spoonful of yogurt. “And she said Judy was thin in high school, so it’s not like she could’ve hidden a full-term pregnancy. Those bones were from a full-term infant, weren’t they?”
“Yeah. No doubt.” Ally was quiet as she seemed to ruminate over the details. “Skinny girls usually don’t hide baby bumps very well. Maybe it wasn’t hers after all. I’m thinking Gallagher needs to focus on locating that female boarder.”
Belle grew animated. “Didn’t I already say that? That woman’s plan all along was probably to rent a room at my aunt’s so she could have the kid and get rid of it. And it seems to have worked.”
“If that’s how it happened, then I now have two criminals to find. What else did Wheeler’s sister say about Judy?”
“That she knew Judy did drugs—she did them with her—and that she could recognize Judy’s handwriting if she saw it.”
Ally’s head whipped toward her. “Belle, why didn’t you lead with that? We can confirm that those writings you found in the crawl space were Judy’s.”
“I thought we already knew that!”
“Witness corroboration, Belle,” she replied, sounding exasperated. “In a murder trial every piece of evidence has to be corroborated.”
Belle frowned. “She had a plane to catch.”
“I’ll talk to Gallagher and see what he wants to do. Craig is supposed to come in tomorrow for the cheek swab. I’m sure he’ll be able to recognize her handwriting, too.”
“You’re going to show him that now? I thought you didn’t want to tip him off to anything?”
“I didn’t want you to tip him off to anything. Gallagher and I are going to have an official conversation with him tomorrow.”
“Can I come?”
“No, you cannot.”
“Aww, c’mon. Can’t you like bestow on me an honorary deputy status for the day? I’m getting good at questioning suspects.”
Ally chuckled. “I’m sure you are, but Gallagher and I can handle it. You have a big h
ouse that isn’t going to renovate itself.”
“I’m right on schedule. Your Mom and Pop contractors actually show up on time and finish jobs when they say they will. I wish I’d signed up to teach a summer course to help pay for all of it.”
“It’s really coming along beautifully. You’ll get your asking price for sure.”
Belle smiled at the encouragement.
“Then you’ll be free to leave this place in your rearview mirror,” Ally added with some side-eye.
“Is that what you want?”
Ally turned to face her. “Not at all. But that was your original plan.”
“It was the plan before I met you.”
Ally gazed directly across the street, perhaps to hide her delight. “So it’s changed?”
“It hasn’t stayed the same.”
Ally’s head swiveled back. “What does that mean, Belle? This conversation is starting to make me anxious.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I never expected to fall in love with you, for starters, so now I get like that when we talk about you moving away.”
“I didn’t expect to either,” Belle said excitedly. “Although, if I believed in love at first sight, I should’ve known from the moment you pulled me over. I don’t think my heart had ever fluttered more over anything.”
Ally smiled. “Not that I’m confessing to anything, but I’ve never pulled someone over because I found them attractive.”
“Aww, now I’m disappointed.” Belle offered her best sexy pout.
“I was very attracted to you from the moment I saw you at the hardware store. I happened to hit the jackpot when I ran your plate and found the expired emissions flag.”
“Good thing you don’t wear a body cam. You would’ve caught me drooling over you on tape.”
“Lust at first sight is a thing, but love is organic. It has to be nurtured to grow into something.”
“Is that what we’ve been doing for the last several weeks? Nurturing?”
“Beats me,” Ally said. “But it’s undeniably more than lust.” She took Belle’s hand and seemed to study her face. “I don’t want you to leave next month.”
The Ashford Place Page 14
