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BURKE TIGHTENED THE hug and then pushed me back and looked into my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, Burke, I was so scared.” The words came out a squeaky whisper. I tried to tell him what happened but fits of coughing interrupted every few seconds. “Careful, over there by those two windows, there’s broken glass.”
My head hurt, my heart was still beating too fast, and my throat was on fire. God help me, but I was stupid tonight. At the first sound of glass breaking in my bedroom, I should have called 9-1-1. Instead, I ran. Flight or fright, and I’d chosen flight—in the wrong direction.
I mouthed the words, “Burke, the chief was right. I am in danger. They intended to take me somewhere.” I grabbed my throat. It hurt to talk. “They’re after my mother, too.”
“Who are ‘they’, Sophie? Can you describe them?”
I frowned and shook my head, wishing I could tell him more. I mouthed the words, “They said they’d go after my mother if I didn’t come out. Black hoodies, average height, fast runners. Well, the one in my front yard was fast. The one inside had trouble catching up with his partner.” Burke leaned over, positioned his ear next to my mouth. “The one inside my house was a man with a nasally voice, like he had a cold. The other one outside on my lawn also had a black hoody on. That’s all I know.”
“You’re saying ‘he’. Do you know for certain that both were males?”
“No. Just the one inside my house.”
Officer Sheenen walked into the room. “Just got a call.” He glanced at me, then at Burke. “Miss Edna just died.”
I gasped and covered my mouth. Oh, no. Not Miss Edna. I turned my back to both men and stepped a few feet away as tears filled my eyes. Poor Edna. Poor, sweet Edna. She didn’t deserve what hap—I gasped and spun around. “Did they kill her? Did she have any visitors today? Two men?”
Burke shook his head, looked at Sheenen who said, “I’ll find out,” and walked into the hall.
“Someone’s targeting the three women who went to Europe years ago, Burke. Edna’s dead. Virginia’s dead or missing. Now, they’re after my mother, and me, obviously.”
“Possibly because of the connection to your mother.”
“Chief Johnston tried to warn me. Right now, you have to check on my mother, make sure she’s all right.”
Burke grimaced. “We released her.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe it. “Where is she? Where did she go?” Talking was playing havoc on my throat, and I rubbed it.
“We don’t know. Would you like some water?”
I nodded. “Downstairs. Kitchen.” I headed in that direction.
“Do you have any idea where your mother might go?”
“No. We’re not chummy. I have to stop talking. Hurts too much.” We reached the kitchen. I got Burke’s attention and pointed to the broken glass. He handed ice water to me. The cold soothed my throat, and then I popped a lozenge.
“I’ll start with the woman driving the van in the crash. Her name is on the police report.”
I nodded, whispered, “You do that while I wake up George at the Door and Glass House and get him to replace my windows and front door in the morning.”
“In the meantime, Soph, you need to stay with Terri.”
“And I need to get somebody over here to put in a security system, ASAP.”
♦
I AWOKE TO A DAMP AND cloudy morning and the whistle of a kettle promising tea. Terri’s a tea person. Actually, she’s a cream and sugar person who adds just a tad of tea to dilute the guilt. The whistling stopped as I sank deeper into my blankets. I didn’t want to face the day yet. I heard Terri turn on the shower in the bathroom between our two bedrooms and wondered if I’d brought whatever had happened to me last night upon her by being here. I told myself that those men wouldn’t come here; that would be stupid. The police were aware of them, were looking for them, but, still, no one could watch us 24/7. They could kill us both before Burke could get here.
I thought of George putting in my windows and my front door today, that I could maybe be home this afternoon. The bedroom door opened, and Terri walked into what I considered ‘my room’ because I always stayed in here when I spent the night.
She was carrying a gun.
She put it on my bed and sat beside it. “Daddy gave this to me because he didn’t want me to live alone without protection. And now I’m giving it to you, just until this mess is over.”
“I’ve never thought of myself as a wimp, but after last night, I have doubts today.”
“You’re no wimp, Sophie, not after that horrific scream. Everybody’s talking about it. Where did that come from?”
“Probably built up from years of dealing with my mother.” I tried to smile, but it wobbled just before tears flooded my eyes.
“Stop it. I’ll start crying, too, and ruin my makeup.” She grabbed my hand. “You were so smart. You faced a no-way-out situation, and you thumbed your nose at it.”
“Next time, they’ll put duct tape over my mouth so I can’t—”
“There won’t be a next time. Now wipe your tears. I have to get dressed. Call me any time today at work and don’t go anywhere by yourself. You never know.”
I sent her a no-truer-words nod and touched the gun. “I haven’t shot one of these in a couple years.”
“When I get off work, we’ll go to the shooting range, get some practice in. I made hot tea if you want some.” She started to leave and then turned back around. “What about your mother?”
“I don’t know. Burke’s looking for her. Call your mom, see if she knows anything. I’m going to call some friends and family. Maybe they’ve heard from her.”
“You know I’d take off work if I could, but I can’t. Please be careful today, Sophie.”
“I will, I promise.”
After a few minutes, I heard the front door shut.
I was alone, and I was suddenly terrified. I scooted out of bed and checked the front door locks. Terri had three: a regular lock, a sliding lock, and a heavy-duty bolt latch lock. In quick order, I made sure all three were secured.
I’d written scenes where the female protagonist was alone, afraid, and thinking of ways to get out of an impossible and deadly situation, but the reality of it was that I didn’t know, firsthand, what I was writing about. I’d never been as afraid as I was last night in my own home.
At least I would be a better writer when all this ended.
I glanced outside. A light rain fell. It was a perfect day to spend in bed. I picked up my cell phone, crawled back under the covers, and started making calls about my mother. I’d left instructions with George to call me when he was finished. I’d go home and try to figure out how to live alone again with a gun, a dog, and a cat. Maybe a couple more dogs were in my future, big dogs with deep, threatening barks and teeth that could munch on an intruder until the police arrived.
♦
THE RAIN FINALLY STOPPED. Burke called me that evening while I was coming up to a stop sign to tell me they hadn’t located my mother. The overcast day only added to the stress of not knowing where she was or if something horrible had happened to her. I popped a lozenge and said, “I’ve called everyone I know. Maybe she’s on her way back to Kansas. She doesn’t have a cell phone, y’know, or email.”
“Her friends in the van haven’t heard from her. She could be anywhere by now.”
“Or those two men took her. Burke, do you think they’re the ones who beat Edna and killed Jonas? How do they fit into the picture? The pieces aren’t coming together at all.”
“It’s an ongoing investigation, Sophie. I checked at your house, and your windows and front door have been replaced.”
“George called me with the ‘all clear’. He said the security system people were there, too. They just called and gave me the password to the system and told me how to set it. Pretty easy, actually.”
“I’ll need that password.”
“I’ll give it to you.”
“Even with the security system, I don’t like you being by yourself until we find your mother. Are you still at Terri’s?”
“No. I left this afternoon. I just finished shopping, and I’m headed home. I wouldn’t mind some company while I get my things together. All I took with me last night were my pajamas and my toothbrush. I can give you the password then, and you can tell me what you’re not telling me.”
“Ongoing investigation, Soph. I can’t tell you everything.”
“Then, you do know something?”
“Ongoing investigation, Soph.”
Hmmph.
My house lay in pitch black. I didn’t remember turning off the automatic lamp in my living room. Maybe the electricity had gone off—it wasn’t too unusual for that to happen in Forman Falls—or maybe one of George’s crew had turned the lamp off and forgot to turn it back on.
Burke opened the front door. “I hear Moocher.”
My voice was coming back, but I could only manage a whisper. “I put him outside since I was going to be gone all day. Watch me do this.” I put in the security password and reset the alarm.
“Got it.”
We stepped inside the dark living room. I imagined someone sitting in one of my chairs, a gun across his lap, waiting to kill both of us. With shaking fingers, I turned on the lamp and there sat Yoda, with no gun in sight. I snuggled him and walked to the kitchen to let Moocher inside.
“I’ll check the rest of the house,” Burke said. “Stay in there.”
As lights came on, the tension eased a little from my shoulders. I opened the back door to a squirming Moocher and scratched behind his ears. “You okay, sweetie?” I made sure the backdoor lock was secure.
Burke appeared in the doorway. “Let’s go upstairs and get your things.”
“I’ll make it quick; you need to get home. You’ve had a long day, too.”
Even though light preceded us as we walked upstairs, memories of the last time I’d been up the stairs flooded back, and I felt as if the man was right behind me again. I glanced over my shoulder and hated that I felt weak instead of strong. I had won that skirmish, but it sure didn’t feel like it.
On the top landing, I glanced both ways, rushed toward my bedroom, and put Yoda in his bed at the foot of mine. Everything looked as it did before the attack. No broken glass anywhere. I picked up my overnight bag and stuffed it with essentials.
“Almost done?”
“You won’t laugh, will you, if I take my Teddy with me? I’ve had him since I was five.” I plucked my brown and orange teddy bear off the shelf of stuffed animals. “I even took him to college with me.” I held him up, face to face with Burke. “He can be ferocious if I’m in trouble.”
“Oh, I can see that.” Burke chuckled.
I unlatched the pet door so Moocher could go outside, made sure the back door and the front door were secure, and joined Burke in his patrol car.
♦
TERRI LIVED ON THE first floor of the Hampton-Wade Apartments. To get to her place, we had to walk through the main door and down the hall on the right to number 137. I didn’t ring the doorbell; she knew we were on the way over, so I walked inside.
She was sitting on the sofa with her hands clasped in her lap. She stared at me and offered no greeting. Had I spoiled plans with Stan?
My bag slid to the floor. I held out Teddy and said in a silly, tinny voice: “Hey, Terri. I’m sorry I’m coming over so late.”
She didn’t move. Her eyes seemed larger than usual. She stared at me for maybe two more seconds, then looked to her right slowly as if her eyes were shoving weights toward her bedroom door. Twice.
Was that a signal?
Burke saw it, too, grabbed my arm, and said, “Don’t I get a good-bye kiss?” And then he kissed me. I was shocked. He acted as if it meant nothing to kiss me—all just part of the job. I wanted our first real kiss to mean something, but I knew he was playing a part, so I slapped his chest. “Burke, stop it. Oh!” He kissed me again, and then we wrestled as he tugged me toward the door. To Terri, I said, “He can be such an animal sometimes.” To Burke, I said, “Would you stop?” I actually conjured up a giggle. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Once we were out in the hall, he grabbed my hand and jogged to the main door. He punched his shoulder microphone and called in the emergency. While he waited for backup, he looked at me. “Good job. You were very convincing in there.”
“And to think I flunked acting in high school.” But I was worried. Who was in the other room?
Within two minutes, patrol cars arrived, parking a block away. An ambulance appeared within five minutes. Policemen with guns drawn quickly surrounded the apartment building. Three followed us inside and down the corridor to Terri’s apartment.
Burke had already briefed me on what to expect.
If ever there was a time for me to act convincingly, it was now.
Burke and the other officers flattened themselves against the wall, their weapons pointed up. He nodded toward Terri’s apartment.
I was on.
I opened the door. Terri wasn’t sitting on the sofa. “Hey, girl. I’m back. That man is so smoochy tonight. Are you ready for some cinnamon rolls?” Good. That was cheerful, unsuspecting. “I’ll just get my things.”
Her bedroom door opened. Terri stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and filling with tears.
“What is it, honey? Did Stan do something stupid? Men. The training never stops, does it?”
Terri walked out rigidly with an I’m-so-sorry look on her face.
My mother came next, wearing pretty much the same expression. Thank God, she was alive. Jim Peters followed my mother.
Wait a minute. Jim Peters? What was he doing here?
They all walked to the sofa, sat, and huddled together. And then she appeared, Rita what’s-her-name, Virginia Crane’s maid, with a gun aimed right at me.
I had to let Burke know that Rita was in here with a weapon. The door was still open behind me. “Rita, what are you doing here? Is that gun real?”
“Shut up, you stupid woman!”
And that’s all it took. Officers moved toward the door. I shouted, “Get down!” and Mother, Terri, Jim and I dropped to the floor and covered our heads.
Rita did not.
“Freeze!” Burke yelled, pointing his weapon right at her. “Put the gun down!”
Rita swung her gun towards Burke and fired, but he was faster.
She screamed, clutched her shoulder, dropped the gun, and fell to her knees. My mother grabbed the gun, set the safety, and slid it across the floor to Burke. He took it, holstered his gun, and handcuffed Rita.
I grabbed Terri’s hand. “Are you okay?” She shook like a grasshopper in a stiff Texas wind. Or was that me?
“I’m fine.”
“Mother, are you hurt?”
Instead of staring at me, she said, “No, I’m not.” Wow. A whole sentence. She turned to Jim Peters. “Are you all right, Jimmy?”
Jimmy?
He looked at my mother with tears in his eyes. “I’m okay. Are you?”
Tears? From Jim Peters? Macho, tough boy Jim Peters?
My mother grabbed his hand. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
Okay. I was so ready to toss my supper. What was I missing here?
Rita gritted her teeth at Jim. “It’s all his fault! He killed my mother!”
Her mother?
“I did not, and you know it, Rita.” Jim glanced at Burke. “This ends right here, right now.”
“I’ll need your statement.” Burke handed Rita over to Officer Sheenen and said to Jim, “Let’s get out in the hall.”
EMTs and a police officer took Rita to the hospital while several officers interviewed Jim and the rest of us individually. After I’d given my statement, Burke approached me and said he’d drive Terri and me to my house.
Terri said, “My mom’s coming over to pick me up. I’ll stay at her house for a while and come into town tomorrow.”
“I’m going to miss you,” I said. “Call me.”
“I will. You know you can come, enjoy some country living for a change.”
I glanced at Burke. Nothing about tonight made sense, and I needed answers to the questions swirling in my head before I could walk away. “I know.” I hugged her again.
Burke said, “Let’s go, Sophie. I have to get back to the station.”
“We can take her home,” Terri offered.
“I want to check out her house, make sure she’s safe.”
I frowned at Burke. “But Rita’s in jail now. I’ll be safe.”
“I still want to take a look, make sure.”
I looked around for my mother, but she was nowhere in sight. Terri’s face brightened when she saw her mother; she ran and hugged her. Oh, to have that kind of connection with mine.
Burke and I walked to his car. “I found out where Laura and Herman Farnsberry lived when Laura disappeared, and I contacted PD earlier. Although they never found her body, they have DNA from Farnsberry’s home. Just thought you’d like to know the latest.”
“DNA? That’s good news.”
“We have DNA here in Sharon’s case, too, but no matches.”
♦
IT SEEMED APPROPRIATE somehow that Samson was sitting on my porch when Burke drove up to my garage. I was so glad to see him and to know that Jim had finally let him off the chain.
Neither Burke nor I reached for the door handle to get out.
The light rain had stopped. It was nice sitting in his car with the windows down, allowing the sweet scents of the recent shower inside. He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he rolled his head towards me. “We do eventually have to get you inside.”
I nodded, unconvinced.
There was something about tonight that bothered me, but it didn’t have anything to do with Rita or the gun she’d pointed at me or the tears I’d seen in Terri’s eyes.
Burke had kissed me, twice.
Our first real kisses in twelve years. I knew they were in the line of duty, but those kisses reminded me that we were good together once upon a time.
He didn’t move. I think he was wanting, like me, to sit here in the dark and enjoy the quiet, to have a few moments where no one needed our attention, no responsibilities were calling us, no bad guys around to catch or to even think about. After a few more minutes, he got out, walked around the car, opened my door, and offered me his hand. I placed mine in it.
Samson danced and nuzzled as he welcomed us home. Moocher was barking a welcome from inside the house.
“Nothing about tonight makes sense, Burke. But if Rita’s the culprit and she’s in jail, then I might be able to get some sleep with Moocher in my bedroom.”
“I hope you do, Sophie.”
♦
MOOCHER BARKED AND woke me up, but it wasn’t 5:45 in the morning. The sun was up, and I wasn’t. I rolled over and smelled coffee through my open window.
Mmm. There’s not another smell in the world so inviting after waking up from a good night’s sleep. I smiled and snuggled down into my comforter and thought about Burke and the kisses he’d given me last night. I couldn’t help the long sigh that—
Wait a minute.
Coffee?
I didn’t set the timer.
I glanced at my door and blinked at it as if it had answers to how coffee had been made without my help. I threw off the covers, grabbed my robe, slid into my slippers, and eased the door open.
Listening, I heard nothing.
I tiptoed down the hallway and started down the stairs, stopped, listened. I didn’t hear a thing. Gripping the banister, I eased down two more steps and leaned over until I could see my kitchen.
A note was on my sliding glass door, stuck on the outside.
I glanced around and cautiously moved toward it.
“We brought coffee and hope you’ll join us on your back patio. Herman and Ingrid Farnsberry.”
I moved the curtain. There they sat, sipping coffee as if they had a right to be on my patio. But I couldn’t be angry. I wanted answers, and they were apparently ready to give them to me.
When I stepped outside, Farnsberry stood and touched Ingrid’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good morning, Sophie.”
Ingrid rose as well and turned toward me with a warm smile. “Good morning. I hope you slept well?”
I must have looked like a buffoon, staring at them with my hair sticking out in every direction and sleep still pinching my eyes. I glanced around my back yard to make sure I was still on my property and hadn’t been plucked into another dimension.
“I did, thank you.” I didn’t move as I stared at Farnsberry. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t think of where to begin. I was surprised that I could even think lucidly before I’d had my two cups of coffee.
He looked a little sheepish and said, “You must be wondering why we’re here. We brought a thermos of coffee if you’d like some.”
“I would. Thank you.”
Farnsberry poured me a cup, walked around the table, and pulled out a chair. “Would you sit with us, please, and let us explain what’s been going on?”
I sat across from them.
Farnsberry took a seat as well and reached across the corner of the table for Ingrid’s hand. She smiled at him and turned her gaze on me when Herman began.
“Now that Rita has been arrested, we came out of hiding.” He glanced at Ingrid, who slowly nodded. “We wanted to let you know a bit about our history, Sophie. I’ll start at the beginning. My parents divorced when I was very young. My father remarried, had another family. My mother married Ingrid’s father when I was fourteen and Ingrid was twelve. We’re step siblings.” His expression softened when he looked at her. “It was love at first sight, for both of us. Here.” He leaned over, tugged on his wallet, and pulled out an old black-and-white photograph of a young man and woman. “That’s us, when I went away to college.”
“You could be sisters with Laura and Sharon, Ingrid.” To Herman, I said, “You chose these women because they looked like Ingrid?”
“Subconsciously, not intentionally.” He stared at the picture and then put it away. “Our parents saw what was happening between us and forbade it. They didn’t have the resources to send me away to school, or they would have. We lived in the same house but were never allowed to be alone.” Here, he chuckled, as did Ingrid. “But we managed to see each other when we could.”
Ingrid turned to me. “We grew up, went away to different colleges, and lived with heavy guilt because we loved each other. I married. Herman didn’t, until his thirties when he married Laura, a friend from college. She disappeared a few months into their marriage. I divorced and remarried. Herman married Sharon, and she also disappeared. It was horrible, not knowing what happened to them.”
“Did you have an affair with Sharon’s sister?”
Farnsberry shook his head. “No. She was like a very needy little sister. I didn’t even have an affair with my wife, I’m ashamed to say.” He patted Ingrid’s hand. “Not too long ago, Virginia Crane contacted me about her maid, Rita. She’d worked for Virginia for a couple of months and felt an unnaturally strong sense of loyalty to her employer. She’d occasionally ask questions about Virginia’s life, where she went to college, her college friends, details about her life. With a little prodding, Virginia opened up about Laura, Sharon, your mother Esther, Edna, and Jonas. One day, Rita asked about me—Virginia was my secretary for several years, and we thought that was the reason for the questions. But that day, Virginia called me to tell me that she suspected Rita thought I was her father—”
I lifted my brows. “Her father?”
“Which would be normal, of course,” Ingrid interjected, “because of the paperwork. But,” she glanced at Herman, “I’m getting ahead of the story.”
“Virginia said that Rita knew things she couldn’t possibly know. Are you aware, Sophie, that Esther, Edna, and Virginia traveled to Europe during their college years?”
“Yes. I recently figured out that my mother was the third woman in the trio.”
“Yes, she and Edna were pregnant.”
What? “My mother was pregnant?”
He nodded. “Esther and Edna were raped at a college fraternity party. At the time, they didn’t know the name of the culprit nor had they seen him the dark night of the attacks.”
My mother was raped? The shy, reserved woman who shut out every person who loved her was raped?
“I’ll tell you this, Sophie: something died in your mother the day she gave away her baby.” Herman shook his head. “I don’t believe she ever recovered.”
Raped, pregnant, alone, and having to give away her baby. It’s no wonder she had difficulty recovering. My poor mother.
Oh, no.
“You’re going to tell me Rita is my sister, aren’t you?”
“No. Jim Peters is your brother.”
Jim Peters? Samson’s owner and my neighbor? That Jim Peters? “My half-brother lived down the street from me for two years?”
Farnsberry nodded. “He found out about the orphanage when his adoptive mother was dying and researched—hacked is a better word—into their computers. He moved here a couple years ago and only approached me once. I told him I was not his father, that I couldn’t divulge his mother’s name, and he never bothered me again.”
I shook my head. “So many secrets.”
“There are more. Rita came to my house and accused me of, in her words, ‘throwing her away’. When I told her I wasn’t her biological father, she asked me about her mother. I wouldn’t tell her, and she struck me over the head, enough to draw blood. I passed out. I think she thought I was dead.”
“Why would she think you’re her father?”
“Because when Edna and your mother had their babies in Europe, I traveled there to help my friends out and took their babies to a small orphanage that catered to Americans wanting quick adoptions where no questions were asked and a good amount of money was exchanged for their care until they were adopted. I refused to divulge their mothers’ names, as promised, and I alone signed the papers. Virginia was there and paid for everything.”
He sighed, deeply. “Our best guess is that Rita hacked into the orphanage computer and came here to find out the name of her mother.”
“Did she have anything to do with killing your wives, Laura and Sharon?”
“She would have been sixteen or so when Laura disappeared. That’s a bit young, to my way of thinking, but if the pathology is there to kill, then maybe she did.” He lifted a shoulder and shook his head. “After Sharon’s disappearance, I didn’t marry again.” He glanced at Ingrid and smiled. “Until two months ago when our mother passed away.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Ingrid nodded. “Herman and I had to get away because Rita was after Herman. It was our guess that she killed Laura and Sharon because she didn’t want him to be happy. We were afraid she might find out that Herman had married again and come after me. So, we ran.”
“Why not call 9-1-1- and get help?”
Herman shook his head. “We felt our story was too convoluted, that if we contacted the police about Rita, then the disappearances of my wives would come up and lead to me. We had only one option and that was to leave and hide.”
Herman took Ingrid’s hand. “By the way, the reason I couldn’t help you the night you found me at Virginia’s is because I had promised Edna and Esther that I would never tell about their babies. It was simply too complicated to tell you. I figured that, eventually, Rita would find out that Virginia went with Edna and Esther to Europe and kill her. I was trying to protect you, Sophie.”
My mind swirled with all this information. I tried to make sense of it, but all the pieces didn’t quite fit.
“This is probably a little late, but you’re welcome to keep Yoda if you’d like. Thanks for taking care of him.”
I nodded slowly. “Why did you accuse me of killing him?”
“I didn’t. Rita started the rumor. She discovered the names of the two women who gave up their babies—”
“How?”
“Research. Asking questions. Hacking. She told me the night she tried to kill me that her adopted mother told her the name of the orphanage, and she found me in the paperwork. She uncovered the names of my friends at the university. It wasn’t difficult for her to narrow down the names to Edna and Esther, since friends knew of their trip across Europe. I didn’t ask Burke Maguire to watch my house; Frank disguised his voice and asked him. I didn’t bury any bones; Rita did, and she placed a cross on the burial site. Samson brought me the bone; I didn’t know what to do with it, and I left it on my back porch. Rita found it, buried it, and thus started the Sophie-killed-the-cat story.”
I nodded. “Garrett Flint told me you knew Sharon was buried in the national forest.”
“Knew?” He shook his head. “Guessed. When Samson began bringing bones to my house, I thought they might be Sharon’s and that she was buried nearby. The national forest abuts my back yard.”
“The diary.” Ingrid prompted.
Herman nodded. “Ingrid and I knew you had been in my house, and Ingrid discovered that Sharon’s diary was missing, and we went to your house to retrieve it.”
“I never found the diary.”
He nodded. “We know that now. But at the time, we thought you had it, so we tried to retrieve it. Ingrid hit you over the head in your kitchen.”
She turned, stretched out her hand to me, and I took it. “I was protecting Herman. If anyone read Sharon’s diary, he would be incriminated for Laura’s murder. I’m sorry I hit you, Sophie. You startled me, and I reacted. I’m so sorry.”
I slowly nodded and let go of her hand. “You could have asked me for it.”
Herman leaned forward. “We didn’t know for sure if you had it, and we didn’t want to involve you in all this any more than you already were.”
“Fair enough. Did Rita use my car to hit your car?”
Herman nodded. “She called me to meet her out on Highway 22. She drove up in your car, told me to get out. She rammed my car and then left me there. I called Ingrid. She came to get me. That night, Rita came to my house, hit me over the head, and we went into hiding. It was Rita’s plan for you to be arrested.”
“She was after me?”
“For a short time, she thought your mother was her mother, and she resented the fact that Esther had kept you and not her.”
Ingrid nodded. “I stayed here in Forman Falls to find out as much as I could about Rita. I was taking a chance, being Herman’s stepsister, living in his house with a madwoman after him. I had a gun with me at all times.”
Ingrid reached for Herman’s hand. “We’re here to clear the air with you. We hope you can forgive us for everything.”
“Consider yourselves forgiven, but I have two more questions, Herman. First, do you know who hit Burke Maguire on the head in your back yard?”
“No.”
I didn’t know how to ask the second question, but Jim was my brother, and I wanted to know. “Do you have any idea who Jim’s father is?”
Herman sent a questioning look to Ingrid. Even though she nodded, he looked frustrated as he shook his head and sighed. He really didn’t want to say.
“Who?”
He looked up. “My half-brother, John Clarke Farnsberry.”
Clarke of Laura and Clarke?
“He also went by the name Clarke Zalensky and Frank Zagorsky. Criminals change their names at will.”
Virginia was right. Clarke and Frank were one and the same. “But I was told that your half-brother died several years ago.”
“We all thought he had, until recently.”
“Does Burke Maguire have this information?”
“We don’t know. We’ll make sure he gets it.”
“And what about Virginia? Do you know what happened to her?”
“We don’t know if she’s dead or alive.”
They left then. I called Burke and told him about their visit and that my mother had been raped by Clarke Farnsberry, who was the Clarke of ‘Laura and Clarke’ and was one and the same with Frank Zagorsky.
Burke said. “This investigation just got interesting, didn’t it, Sophie?”
“Do you know where Frank slash Clarke is?”
“We’re looking for him. Are you coming to the station to sign your statement?”
“I’ll get dressed and do that, but when I get home, I’m doing nothing for the rest of the day. I’m relieved we found the perpetrator, and she’s behind bars. Now, you need to find Clarke Farnsberry.”
♦
AFTER SIGNING THE PAPERS and returning home, I got into my pajamas again and started a good book I’d picked up a couple weeks ago. A sort of peace settled over me. Rita was in jail. The Farnsberrys were happily married. I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
I fixed myself some lunch, fell asleep a couple of times with Moocher and Yoda, and continued reading. I didn’t talk to a soul, except my pets, and I didn’t work on my next book.
I vegged and read all day.
When I finished the book, I showered and dressed and went downstairs to start cleaning my living room. I put on ear buds and dusted while music filled my soul, humming along as best I could. I’m not a singer as much as I’m not an actress. Although, after my stellar performance last night at Terri’s, I’d have to re-think my acting abilities.
Something touched my arm. I screeched, whipped around, and faced a snickering Jim Peters. He said something, and I tugged off the ear buds. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“I knocked a couple times. Your door was open.”
Well, shoot. I’d forgotten to set the security system again.
“Yes.” Okay. What should I say to a new brother several years older than me, a neighbor that I had been suspicious of for two years? “So.” Ahem. “How are things?”
“Great. Great. I like your mother.” A nervous laugh came out of him. He shifted his feet. “Our mother.”
Yikes. What was that feeling? I wanted to punch him. Hard. My mother liked him, and she hated me. What was I supposed to do with that? “Would you like something to drink?”
“Naw, I’m okay. Just wanted to, uh, to come by and say hey to my little sister.”
Okie-dokie and all righty. I’m just not there, Big Brother. I glanced at my front door, wishing Burke would pop over right...now. “Well, I’m glad you did.” This relationship would take time. We could aim for acquaintanceship for now, or maybe friendship, and eventually, siblingship.
“I’ve, uh, noticed that you like Samson. He’s yours, if you want him. Kind of a thanks-for-the-family gift.”
“If I want him? Of course, I want him. You don’t?”
“I think it’s more that he wants you.”
“Thanks, Jim. I appreciate it.”
Jim nodded and looked outside. “That night at Jonas’ house? The night he was killed? It wasn’t Jonas who stood on the porch and called Garrett Flint a fool. It was Frank Zagorsky. He grabbed Flint and dragged him into the house. The four of us decided to play some poker. Jonas didn’t like Garrett Flint, a wanted man, coming around his house. I thought Flint was harmless, but Frank liked having him around, so he could take what little money Flint had in poker. Frank thought Jonas was cheating, and he shot him. We all scattered after that.”
“Did you tell Burke Maguire?”
“Oh, sure. Some time ago.”
Some time ago? Why hadn’t Burke mentioned this to me?
“That’s my boy.”
I spun around at the voice behind me, in my kitchen. Frank Zagorsky stood beside my refrigerator, smirking. The hand in his pocket slowly slipped out.
And in it was a gun!
“Always telling the truth, boy. You were raised right, and that’s good.” Frank circled the room, holding the gun on me as well as his gaze. He hadn’t blinked yet. His wide eyes made him look crazy. “So, this is the little tramp you told me about.”
My heart stopped.
“Frank, you—”
“Ah-ah-AH-ah.” Frank shook the gun at Jim. “I told you I don’t like my boy calling me ‘Frank’. I’m your dad, so call me ‘Dad’.”
Dear God. I was facing the man who raped my mother!
I shook like a leaf. I wanted to be brave, but my knees were giving out, and I needed to hold onto something. I could hardly get a breath of air into my lungs. I didn’t want him to see me as easy prey, so I lifted my chin and gritted my teeth and prayed, prayed, prayed.
Jim sent me a quick glance and then looked at Frank. “What are you—”
“Don’t interrupt me, boy.” Frank cocked the gun and pointed it right at me. One corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer, and I honestly thought I might slip to the floor from sheer terror. “Here I thought I had you, little lady, the other night, chasing you in your house. But you’re not getting away this time. I’m going to enjoy you just like I did your mama.”
My mind went blank with fear.
Frank smirked. “You need better security, honey. I had no trouble at all getting in here. And you should get out more, buy yourself some nice, girlie panties. Make yourself more appealing to the man about to take you.”
I shivered, more afraid than I ever thought I could be. I glanced at Jim. He looked at his feet and didn’t offer even a hint that he would come to my aid if I needed him.
“You go on home now, son. I’ve got plans for your little sister. Go on, now.”
Jim didn’t bother to look at me as he shuffled to the front door. And left! My brother left me with this monster!
“I’ve set up a little place for you and me in that empty house across the street, honey.” Frank’s features hardened. “Let’s go.”
Frantically, I looked around for anything to grab and hit him, but I was near the front door and there was nothing.
“Move.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. My entire body shook as I stepped onto the porch. Surely someone will see me and come to my—
Frank turned off my porch light.
I tried to swallow but couldn’t. This was real. There was a man behind me with a gun. His intent was to rape and kill me. God? Father? I need help. Please send me help.
I glanced around. It was dark. The nearest streetlamp was three houses down. No one was about. I couldn’t scream; I didn’t have enough spit in my mouth and, besides, I knew Frank would kill me the second I made a sound. I needed to make a run for it, but he grabbed the back of my blouse and shoved me across the street.
“Around back.”
I stumbled across the lumpy yard, frantically looking for a way to escape this nightmare.
“Up the stairs.”
My mind was racing, and I couldn’t stop it long enough to think.
“Open the door.” The barrel of his gun jabbed my back.
I looked around for Moocher. Where was he? Where was Samson?
“Now, girl, or I’ll just shoot you and have my fun with you, dead or alive.”
Dear God! My hands were shaking when I clutched the knob and turned it. The door opened with a squawk. He shoved me inside. A blanket lay on the floor. Oh, God. Please.
“Your luxury suite, madam.” He chuckled.
I had to act quickly, or I’d never get out of this alive. “Why did you kill Edna, Clarke?”
He raised his brows at me, a surprised expression on his face.
“Did she find out you’d raped her in college?”
His smile was quick.
“Did you tell her?”
He sent me an I’m-so-proud-of-myself smirk. “It was beyond exhilarating to watch her face while I told her.” His eyes glinted. “She had to die. It was—” He looked up at the ceiling. “Well, I’ll have to use the word ‘exhilarating’ again. It was exhilarating to beat her to death.”
Dear God, he’s going to kill me. I had to stall him, but would Burke—would anyone—even think to look for me in the vacant house? I needed to calm down, to think of a way out of here. “You were leaving Virginia when your car exploded.”
I’d surprised him again. His brows lifted, and he slowly smiled.
“She thought you’d died that day.”
“That’s what she was supposed to think.”
“You changed your looks. Plastic surgery?”
He squinted at me.
“You were in the clear.” The door we’d just come through wasn’t locked. “Everyone thought you were dead.” I could jump out and run. “So why risk coming back here?” He’s old and won’t be able to keep up with me. “What could have induced you to come back?”
I screamed and shoved him hard, opened the door, and jumped down the steps in one leap. I knew he’d fallen on the floor. I only had a few seconds to reach Farnsberry’s gate.
I could hear him behind me! I tried to open the gate with shaking hands. Oh, God, help me. Help me.
A shot sounded!
Ducking, I opened the gate and slammed it closed. Flying from tree to tree, I made it to the other side of Farnsberry’s house. I hid in the shadows, grabbed the hem of my blouse, and covered my mouth to quiet the sound of my frantic breathing.
I listened, heard nothing, and eased back against the tree. My heart was racing, racing.
“He’s coming, Sophie.”
I jerked at the whispered words. Virginia Crane stepped into the light with a gun in her hand. “What are you doing, Virginia?”
“I’m going to kill Clarke Farnsberry.”
What? “Where have you been? We found your Cadillac at the hospital and thought someone—?”
“Misdirection. I parked it there, walked through the hospital, out the other side, and made my way here. I’ve been inside Herman’s house the last two days, waiting for my chance to end Clarke’s life. I knew that piece of scum was spending time with his son, Jim Peters, and I waited. I’ll kill him this time.”
Uh...
“Hello, Virginia.”
She spun toward Frank. I backed up a couple of steps.
He was breathing heavily, but the gun in his hand was surprisingly steady. “I’ll answer your question now, girl. Why did I come back here? To meet my son.”
Virginia’s eyes flashed with pure hatred. She gritted her teeth while the hand holding the gun on Frank trembled. She was positively on fire with rage. “I thought I killed you a long time ago, Clarke, but you got away. Not today. Not today! Sophie,” she said, breathing heavily without taking her gaze off Frank. “We’re both dying of cancer. It’s what we deserve. He raped my friends in college, then he targeted and married me! When he told me a few weeks after our marriage, I was livid. All I could think about was ridding the world of him. I planted a bomb in his car with a timer. You saw my shock at Jonas’ memorial dinner when I discovered I’d failed. Who died in the car explosion, Clarke?”
He chuckled. “Some homeless man. He was thrilled when I gave him my car. You must have been proud to have put your chemistry degree to good use.”
I thought I heard her growl.
“Killing you isn’t enough!” Her hand was shaking so much, I thought she might drop the gun. “You should be hanged, drawn, and quartered—”
I put up both hands. “Wait. Maybe we can settle this—”
“We’re way past that, Sophie.” Virginia took in a long, shaky breath, her fierce gaze still on Frank. “He told me he found the orphanage’s paperwork in Herman’s safe and went there. He paid them a lot of money to find out what had happened to his kids. When he was diagnosed with cancer, he came here to meet his son. He’d already met Rita and convinced her to come here, too. After telling me all this, he tried to kill me, but I pretended to be dead and then got away.”
“You always were a tad too... rigid for me, Virginia.”
“You snake!” She fired.
Frank did, too.
I screamed and stepped back as both of them stared at the other and then slowly fell to the ground.
“Sophie!”
Burke’s voice. “Over here!” I was so relieved to see him peering around Farnsberry’s house with a gun. His gaze moved from Frank to Virginia to me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
Another gunshot!
Burke’s head snapped back, and he groaned the worst guttural sound I’ve ever heard as he grabbed his chest.
I screamed, “Nooooo!”
His fingers relaxed, and his gun slipped out of his grip and dropped into the grass a second before he slowly fell. I lunged toward him, but Frank held his gun on me now.
“I didn’t tell you to move, girl.” Lying on the ground, blood stained Frank’s shirt and his hand covering the wound. “He got what he deserved, as will you.”
I gasped as Jim Peters came around Farnsberry’s house, weapon drawn and pointing right at Frank. “Put the weapon down,” he said. When Frank moved his arm, Jim shot him. Frank stared at him for a moment, then his eyelids slowly closed as if they couldn’t hold back impatient sleep. Jim lowered his weapon. He touched Burke’s neck, said something to him, then moved to Frank and Virginia and did the same. He tugged out his phone, punched in some numbers, and waited. “Yeah, Jim Peters here.”
“J-Jim?” I breathed the word. I was falling apart, and I could hardly speak. “Burke’s been sh-shot.” Oh, God. Don’t let him be dead. Please don’t let him—
I gasped, nauseous and on the edge of hysteria. I stepped around Frank and studied Burke’s body, hoping for any movement that told me he was still alive. But he just lay there, not moving. Please, God. “Oh, please, please.” I heard Jim in the dark behind me, still talking on the phone.
I began to sob. My stomach literally churned as I stumbled toward him. “Please, God. Not Burke. Not Burke.”
Suddenly, Burke groaned and rolled to his back. “Ouch. That really hurt.”
What? How—?
Oh! I was so relieved to see him alive and moving to his knees—where I needed to be right now, thanking God that he wasn’t dead—that I burst into blubbering tears. “Oh, B-B-Burke.”
He reached for me. “Come here, Sophie,” he said and tugged me into his arms. I sobbed even harder.
“Everything’s okay now, Sophie. No need for tears.”
No need for tears? Was he kidding? This was the perfect time for tears! When I burrowed into his chest, he moaned, and I jerked back. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. Bruised and feeling stupid. I know better than to walk toward a man holding a gun when I haven’t verified he’s been taken down.” Burke picked up his handgun and holstered it as Jim walked toward him.
“I checked on those two. They’re both dead.”
“Thanks for warning me about Frank. You’re good at undercover work, Jim, and a great actor.” Burke extended his hand. “Help me up, buddy.”
I stood as he tugged him to his feet. Burke sucked in a breath through his teeth, groaned, and said, “Getting shot in a vest hurts like the dickens.”
I brushed the tears off my face. “What do you mean ‘undercover work’?”
“Jim’s been helping us since Jonas was killed. He’s a retired police officer on disability from Austin. Look, I need to call this in. Give me a few minutes.” He walked slowly to the gazebo and sat.
“He’s in a lot of pain.”
Jim nodded at me. “At least the vest stopped the bullet.”
“Jim, how did you find out about Rita?”
“Frank told her I was her half-brother, and she approached me one day about helping her and our father get rid of the three women who’d given us up for adoption. I played along, contacted Burke, told him everything. We came up with a plan for me to befriend Rita, so I’d stay in the loop.”
“How did you find out about the diaries and where they were buried?”
“When Virginia received the news that she was dying of cancer, she told Rita where she’d buried her diary and Sharon’s.”
“But why bury them? Why not put them in a safety deposit box?”
“I asked her that. She said Virginia didn’t want any record of them. I think Virginia thought Sharon’s might incriminate Farnsberry in his wives’ deaths; she was protecting him by burying them. Rita thought they had more information about our history, our adoptions. I convinced her they would be safe with me. The last time I talked to Rita she told me about Frank’s plans to get you, Sophie, ‘just for the fun of it’. His words.”
That made my stomach churn even more. I didn’t want to think about Frank or Virginia or Rita anymore, but I was sure they would have starring roles in my nightmares for the next few weeks.
I glanced over at Burke. He motioned Jim and me over. With help from Jim, Burke eased out of his vest. Just below the center-left of his chest was a huge red-and-purple bruise. No wonder he’d passed out; the bullet had barely missed his heart. He looked at me as several police officers hurried into Farnsberry’s back yard. “I’ll brief them on what happened and then you two can give your statements to them. I need to get to the hospital. Might have a broken rib or two.”
Jim said, “I can take you.”
“Appreciate it, but I’ve got a ride.” Sirens sounded. “And there it is.”