FRED READ OVER the letter. “I don’t know what to tell you, Ursula. It’s not real clear what they’re after. But the will specifically appointed you guardian, and the judge honored that request. The bad news is the estate hasn’t finished clearing probate, and decisions aren’t final.”
“So there’s a possibility a judge might award custody to her biological grandparents? Even though she’s never met them?” Ursula heard the note of desperation creeping into her voice. She glanced toward Mac, sitting in the chair beside her, his face a picture of calm strength. She sucked in a breath. “How likely is that?”
“Hard to say.” Fred shook his head. “I don’t know what arguments they might make, or even if they want full custody. Perhaps they only want visitation. Would you be amenable to that?”
“I...” She paused, considering. The wounds these people had inflicted on their daughter went deep. Kendall had spent most of her life fulfilling their expectations, and yet when she’d made the decision to go her own way, they’d abandoned her without hesitation. But they were Rory’s grandparents, and family was important. “I don’t know. I’d have to meet them first.”
“Yes. Well, I suggest you get yourself a family attorney who knows the ins and outs of this sort of thing. I’ve made a list of my recommendations. Given a choice, Darlene Henderson would be my top pick.”
“Thanks.” Ursula tucked the list into her bag. “I’ll give her a call.”
“I’d do it sooner, rather than later. This feels like the opening salvo of a surprise attack to me.”
Ursula looked up, startled. “What do you mean?”
Fred shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s just the vague wording of the letter. I get the idea this is just the formal required engagement before they spring something on you. I may be wrong.”
Ursula doubted it. Fred seemed to have a sixth sense about which issues were likely to fizzle out and which ones might build into something major. He’d been able to head off trouble for several of her friends over the years. But a vague feeling didn’t help her much. “I’ll call her today.”
“Good. Good luck, and let me know if I can help.” Fred shook her hand and turned to Mac. Fred had raised an eyebrow when Mac had accompanied her into his office, but hadn’t questioned her. No doubt he’d pass this on to Penny, who would draw her own conclusions, but right now Ursula was willing to endure a little gossip if it meant she had an ally in this battle.
Mac had hardly said a word during this consultation, but she could tell he was listening carefully, weighing Fred’s advice. She was confident he’d remember the things she was too flustered to consider. He reached out to shake the lawyer’s hand. “Thank you, Fred. We appreciate your help.”
In the lobby, Mac helped her into her coat and rested a hand on her back to guide her out the door to the parking lot. “Coffee?”
Ursula shook her head. “More caffeine is the last thing I need right now. Besides, I have to get home to make that call.”
“Herbal tea, then. We’ll go to that little place with the flowers. Maybe you need a few minutes to collect yourself before you charge ahead.”
He was right. At the moment, she felt too scattered to make a coherent call. But Mac in the Natural Teahouse? She laughed. “You hate herbal tea.”
“I’ll survive.” He waited until she’d climbed into the passenger seat of his car to shut the door behind her before going around to the driver’s side.
A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot in front of the white cottage with red painted poppies scattered across the siding. Light shone through the colorful bead curtains in the windows. They crossed the porch and stepped inside, the tinkle of sleigh bells on the door announcing their presence.
A young woman wearing a loose dress, wool socks and sandals glided in from the back of the house and graced them with a serene smile. “Sit wherever you like.”
Ursula chose one of the mismatched wooden tables closest to the front window. “Hello, Shelly. How are you?”
“I’m at peace. And I go by Harmony now.”
“Oh, right, I’m sorry. Harmony, what tea would you recommend for calm and purpose?”
“I have just the thing. I’ll get you a pot.” She turned her eyes toward Mac. “What are your needs today?”
“Umm.” Mac looked around the room, no doubt searching for a menu, chalkboard or something to clue him in on what he might order. Shelly/Harmony didn’t believe in listing her offerings. She thought of herself as more of an herbalist, who prescribed healing based on her customer’s mental state.
Ursula decided to take pity on Mac. “Mac needs energy and focus.”
“Very well.” She disappeared into the kitchen, which was down the hall from the front bedroom she’d turned into her main dining room. It was probably just as well Shelly didn’t have too many customers. The inefficiency of the layout would run her off her feet.
Mac’s mouth twitched. “I need energy and focus?”
“That’s the only way to get what you want around here. You can’t just order coffee. You have to use the code words to convince Shelly—oops, Harmony—that coffee is what you need.”
“I see. How do you discover these code words? Trial and error?”
“Pretty much. I think Terry over at the bookstore keeps a translation list. For instance, when someone discovered an upset stomach would get you mint tea, they told Terry and he wrote it down.”
“So what are you going to get for calm and purpose?”
“I have no idea. It’s a gamble.”
Their hostess returned, carrying a tray. She set a blue-and-white teapot in the center of the table and a matching cup in front of Ursula. “It’s a special blend of lemon balm, peppermint, and rose hips.”
“Sounds lovely. Thank you, Harmony.”
Mac received a red china cup of fragrant coffee and a plate with three small brown mounds on it. Harmony reached up to hang a pink crystal on the fringe of the pendant lamp over Mac’s head. “Rose quartz. For healing and forgiveness.”
Mac did a double take but she just smiled and sailed from the room, leaving them alone. Mac picked up one of the brown things from his plate and inspected it doubtfully. “Cookies?”
“Sort of.” Ursula smiled. “No refined sugar or white flour, so I’d guess they’re some sort of honey-sweetened wholegrain pastry.”
“Hmm.” Mac took a small bite, grimaced and returned the cookie to his plate. He took a sip from his cup and his face brightened. “That’s good coffee.”
“Kona beans. She always goes to Hawaii in January and brings back a supply.”
“So the secret code to get Kona coffee is ‘focus and energy’?”
“Correct.” Ursula sipped her tea. “But she does know her stuff. I already feel calmer. This is just what I needed. Thank you, Mac.”
“I wish I could do more.”
“You’re doing a lot, just being here. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m usually good at handling the unexpected, but this has me flustered.”
“It’s because you don’t know what you’re dealing with. You don’t know these people, or what they want. You’re afraid Rory will get hurt. Anyone would be upset.”
She traced the handle of her teacup with her finger. “I’m wondering what to say to Rory. Should I tell her about the letter, or wait until I know more?”
Mac took another sip of coffee before he spoke. Ursula liked that about him, the way he took the time to consider before he weighed in. “I’d tell her something. She’s going to sense you’re worried, and if she doesn’t know why, she might make up reasons that are much scarier than the reality.”
“What could be scarier than strangers taking you away?”
“That’s not going to happen.” He laid his hand over hers. “We won’t let it happen. That’s what you need to tell Rory. That these people want to meet, but she doesn’t need to worry. We’ll take care of everything.”
“We?”
“Okay, you. Officially, you’re the only one who can make that promise. But I intend to help in every way I can.”
“Why?” Ursula felt hot tears gathering. She blinked them back. “You have enough on your plate. Why are you throwing yourself into the middle of this mess?”
“Because I care.” He squeezed her hand. “I can’t seem to help it. When I came here, I was completely wrapped up in my own pain. I couldn’t see anyone else, and I wanted it that way. But you and Rory somehow slipped past the walls I’d built and became a part of my life. And I’m not going to let anything bad happen to that little girl, if I can help it.”
“Thank you, Mac.” Now the tears had escaped and were rolling down her face. “That means a lot to me.”
“You and Rory mean a lot to me.” He picked up his linen napkin and dabbed at her cheeks.
Harmony glided back into the room. “Ah, catharsis. Excellent.” She placed a milky crystal on the table and left as silently as she’d come in.
Mac looked after her, the corners of his mouth twitching. He looked so out of place, an Oklahoma cowboy perched on a spindly chair surrounded by crystals and teacups. Ursula felt a giggle rising. She tried to control it, but it came out as a snort. Mac chuckled, and before she knew what was happening, Ursula was laughing. It may have been partly hysterical, but it felt good. Mac was laughing, too, a deep belly laugh.
The tears continued. She wasn’t even sure if they were crying or laughing tears anymore, but she took the napkin from Mac and wiped her cheeks as she caught her breath. “Oh, my.”
Mac chuckled. “Feel better?”
“I do.”
“Maybe there is something to this crystal business.” He picked up the shiny rock from the table, examined it and set it down. “Finish your tea.”
“Actually, I’ve had all I want. Now I’m eager to get home and make that phone call to the lawyer in Anchorage.”
He drained his cup. “How do I get the check?”
“Oh, Shelly doesn’t bring a check. You just leave whatever you feel is the right amount.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting business model. How long has she been running this establishment?”
“Three or four years now. She inherited the house and a nice nest egg from her grandfather. She considers the teahouse more of a public service than a business.”
“That explains so much.” Mac dropped some bills on the table and held her chair for her. “Everything’s going to be okay, you know.”
“I know.” And somehow, looking up at his face, she believed it.
* * *
AS SOON AS Mac opened the front door, Blossom ran to greet him, skidding across the floor to sit at his feet. He pulled off his gloves and reached over to rub her head, but she pulled back and sniffed his hands, wagging her tail. Only after she’d thoroughly inspected him did she allow him to pet her.
“Yes, I was with Ursula. I just dropped her off.” Mac hung up his coat and settled into a chair in the living room. The dog laid her head in his lap. “She’s worried about Rory.” He scratched behind the dog’s ears. There was a time when he would have questioned the sanity of a man who carried on conversations with a dog, but that time had long passed. “I’m worried, too. Fred seems to think they’re up to something.”
His cell phone rang. Chandler. “This is Mac.”
“I found her. The sister.”
“That’s great. Did you learn anything? Is she protecting him?”
“No. She hasn’t seen him in eight years, and she hopes to keep it like that. She didn’t want to talk at first, but eventually, she told me her story.”
“And what was that?”
“She was a half sister, four years younger. Thaine lived with his mother, but came about once a month to spend the weekend with his father’s family. When she was little, she looked up to her brother, but as she reached her teen years and grew more independent, she began to notice a jealous streak. He didn’t like it if she had any activities planned that took her away on the weekends he was there. She had pet hamsters, and once, when she returned from a slumber party, two of them had died. Thaine made some cryptic remark that it wouldn’t have happened if she’d been home where she should be.”
Mac’s gut tightened. Animal deaths. A classic sign. “Why didn’t anyone know about this? There’s nothing in his school records.”
“She didn’t tell anyone. He said he meant they got sick because she didn’t look after them properly, and she believed him. But several times later, he would mention hamsters as a subtle threat.”
It was all too familiar. In his work, Mac had studied the records of too many psychopaths, too many manipulators. “Did it escalate?”
“No direct violence, but she felt threatened. She began to avoid being alone with him. She says a boyfriend broke up abruptly after one of her brother’s visits. He wouldn’t explain, and seemed afraid.”
“And nobody else caught on?”
“The stepmother may have sensed something. At her urging, the father encouraged Thaine to attend college across the country. He did return for spring break his freshman year, with a chip on his shoulder about having been sent away. Midway through that week, the whole family experienced a nasty case of food poisoning, except for him.”
“Details?”
“Family cookout. Thaine shunned the homemade potato salad, saying he disliked the dill. Nobody tested it. They wrote it off as an unfortunate accident. Thaine was helpful while everyone was sick, but his sister says he seemed smug. Anyway, it was enough to convince her to cut all ties with her brother once she was out of her father’s house.”
“Suggestive.”
“Yes. But nothing anyone could pin down. He’s slippery.”
“You’ve talked to the stepmother?”
“Dead. Car accident, five years ago.”
“Suspicious?”
“Not at the time. Winding road. Rainy night. Blown tire. Although the tires were fairly new.”
“Have you given all this information to Detective Ralston?”
“I will. I wanted to talk to you first. Oh, and I doubt it will lead to anything, but the sister mentioned a conversation they’d once had. They were discussing a television show where a fugitive had been hiding out in Omaha. Thaine said Omaha was the perfect place to disappear. Big enough so a stranger wouldn’t stand out, and not on anyone’s radar.”
“You think there’s anything to it?”
“Not likely. He would have only been about sixteen.”
“But his sister did remember after all this time. For some reason, it stuck with her.”
“I’ll certainly check it out.”
“Good. And Chandler? I want you to stick to this case, but if you have someone else available, I’d like some background information on the parents of Kendall Normand Houston.”
“Kendall Normand, the skier?”
“Yes. Kendall and her husband died in an accident a few months ago, and her daughter is living with a neighbor of mine. Her parents are challenging her custody.”
“Does this have anything to do with Thaine?”
“No. Just helping out a neighbor.”
“So you want leverage?”
“I...yes. I hope we don’t have to use it, but...” He let the rest go unsaid.
“Got it. This neighbor’s name?”
“Ursula Anderson. Runs a B&B outside Seward, Alaska.”
Chandler paused, and Mac could sense his unspoken questions about his involvement in a neighbor’s custody suit. Fortunately, as employer, Mac was on the safe side of Chandler’s investigative skills. “I’ll put someone right on it.”
“Thanks, Chandler. And good work.”
Mac set his phone on the table with exaggerated care. Thaine was a psychopath. Self-centered, jealous. After all the books Mac had written, all the studies he’d pored over, how could he have missed the signs? It was all there. Why hadn’t he investigated into Thaine’s background before, when it would have made a difference? When it might have saved Andi’s life?
Blossom nudged his hand. She always seemed to sense when he was falling into despair and tried to help. She was a lot like Andi in that way, constantly trying to make things better. He stroked the dog’s massive head. He wasn’t giving in this time, wasn’t going to sink into a well of self-pity and regrets. He’d promised Ursula he’d be there for her and Rory, and he intended to keep his promise.
Andi was dead. No amount of self-torture and regret would bring her back. Eventually Thaine would be found and brought to justice. Mac would do whatever he could to ensure that, but it didn’t change the facts. Andi was beyond his help.
But Rory wasn’t. He was humbled by the courage of that child. Courage to live on, to run and play and laugh. She’d lost her whole world, and yet she hadn’t numbed herself to life. Ursula was a big part of the reason why. They belonged together, and Mac was going to do everything in his power to make sure they stayed together.
He’d promised Ursula everything would be all right. He just hoped that this time, he could keep his promise.
* * *
TWO DAYS LATER, Mac pulled his car into a busy parking lot in front of a cedar A-frame. The sign on the front read Snow Country. He and Ursula were there at Rory’s request. She’d called last night to remind him she’d never given him that cross-country ski lesson, and when he pleaded a lack of equipment, she’d ordered him to go to Anchorage and get some. “Everybody needs skis.”
Since he’d already planned a trip to Anchorage with Ursula for her meeting with the family lawyer Fred had recommended, he agreed. Rory seemed to be taking the news about the custody suit in stride. According to Ursula, her main response was curiosity as to who these people were and where they lived.
Mac felt like the visit to the family lawyer had been productive. Darlene Henderson was candid and friendly, insisting they call her by her first name. She seemed quite confident that Ursula’s position as Rory’s guardian was secure. Mac couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t going to be as straightforward as it seemed. But there was no use upsetting Ursula with pessimistic premonitions.
Now here they were at what Ursula explained was Rory’s ski shop. “Kendall and Coby put their heart and soul into the shop, as well as the majority of their money. Most of the staff here has been with them from early on. They were devastated over the accident. Kelly Lee, who was the assistant manager under Coby, is running it now. The trustees handling the estate are discussing whether it would be better to keep the store or sell it and invest the money.”
“What do you think?” Mac asked.
“I lean toward keeping it. It’s Rory’s legacy from her parents. Once she’s old enough, she can make up her own mind whether to sell it or run it. Of course, a lot depends on whether it can remain profitable without Coby and Kendall, and their star power.”
An employee working with another customer greeted them as soon as they stepped inside the store. “Welcome to Snow Country. Someone will be right with you.”
Mac looked around. The decor landed somewhere between rustic cabin and Scandinavian modern. Light wood floors gleamed under pendant lights hanging from the high ceiling. A circular staircase led to a loft above the main sales area. Several clerks were busy fitting customers with ski boots or ice skates, while other people browsed the clothing racks.
Ursula led him past a gas flame flickering in a stone fireplace to a rack of skis. He randomly selected a pair and picked one up.
“Those are skate skis. You’ll want to start with classic.”
“Classic. I like the sound of that.” Mac chuckled. “I know nothing about cross-country skiing. I’ve only been downhill skiing a few times and always rented whatever the shop recommended. I put myself into your hands.”
A slim woman with a long black braid hanging over one shoulder hurried over to them. “Ursula! How are you?”
“Kelly, hi.”
“Great to see you. Is Rory still doing Anchorski with me next weekend?”
“Is that next weekend? Time flies. Yes, she’s looking forward to it. Kelly, this is my neighbor, Mac Macleod. He wants to take up skiing.”
“More accurately, Rory wants me to take up skiing,” Mac said. “She’s promised me lessons.”
Kelly grinned. “Then you’re in good hands. Let’s get you fixed up.”
Mac left the store an hour later loaded down with skis, boots and poles. Ursula followed, carrying two bags full of ski clothes and assorted waxes. “You should be all set. Betty gave away all their ski equipment, but I think there’s a wax bench in your garage.”
“Is that what that is? I thought it was some sort of jig for woodworking.” Mac packed the skis and equipment into the back of the SUV. “I didn’t know learning to ski would involve alchemy.”
“Waxing isn’t all that complicated. At least it doesn’t have to be. The racers all have their special formulas, but for casual skiing you just need to use the right wax for the temperature. Rory can tell you all about it.”
“I’m sure she can.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of Rory, we’d better head back if you want to beat her home.”
“You’re right. I’m sure as soon as Rory walks in the door, she’s going to want all of us to hit the trails.”
Mac chuckled. “I’ll be ready.”