Chapter Nineteen

The next morning rolled in dismal and wet. Leaving Torrie to watch the girls at her house, Lulu and Rich set out to talk to Dr. Winters at an appointed time Lulu had somehow magically secured. The red brick mansion of Dr. Winters sat back from the road on a side street of Hickory Valley with an imposing chimney on each end and a black wrought iron fence protecting a large, well-manicured property of leafy maples, oaks, and gigantic elms. Old rhododendron reaching to the sky and knee-high ferns added to its stately charm and distinction. Colorful gold, bright yellow, and orange marigolds sprinkled beside the long walkway led guests to a gigantic porch and a large white front door with leaded glass sidelights.

A curtain of gray rain pounded down around them as Rich escorted Lulu from the car and up the walk. Wearing a bright pink raincoat, the little woman grumbled as she trudged along under an umbrella Rich held over their heads. Earlier, she had told him to keep the blasted thing away from her. She didn’t melt in the rain, and when he laughed and admitted he often wondered about it, she sent him a scorching look and warned he’d never get another bite of her blue ribbon chocolate chip cookies—the ones he always begged her to bake as soon as the cookie jar was empty—if he didn’t behave.

They stopped in front of the door and Lulu peered up at him. “Okay, big shot attorney, how do you want this to go down?”

For a bare second, she caught him off-guard.

“Lulu, this isn’t a sting operation,” he said. And if it were, he thought, her gaudy pink raincoat with her lime green handbag would have blown their cover before he turned off the car. “I just need to get the dear doctor to allow me to see the adoption papers of Anne Alexander and my father.” He pushed the doorbell and muttered, “And let’s hope Ivan isn’t around to throw a few wrenches in the old man’s gears.”

A tall, slender woman with steel gray hair answered the doorbell on the first ring and smiled widely when she saw Lulu. “Why, hello, Lucille. Come in. Come in! I haven’t seen you in a while. We missed you at cards the last couple of times. I heard you were working at the Redman house.” She gestured to a corner of the entranceway where an ornate brass coat tree stood ready to handle their soggy coats and umbrella. “Dr. Winters is most anxious to see you. He’s been fretting about refreshments and your arrival for over an hour. And you must be Rich Redman. All grown up, I see!”

Lulu spoke. “Do you remember Nancy Decker?”

“Ah, yes.” Rich smiled. “Your son, Paul, played quarterback for our high school, I believe. How is he?”

“Fine. Fine.” Nancy nodded. “He coaches football at Ohio State now. Paul’s married with three children.” She waved them toward the hallway. “Come. This way. Dr. Winters is in the sunroom at the back of the house.”

As soon as they entered the three-sided, glassed-in sunroom overlooking a well-kept vegetable garden and lawn, Nathan Winters rose and made his way across the gray slate floor to sweep Lulu into a polite hug. “Lucille, so nice to see you. It’s been a long time. Too long. How have you been?” He held her at arm’s length and continued, “I know your husband’s death must have been as troubling to you as my wife’s was to me. It’s hard to lose a spouse.”

Lulu nodded in agreement and untangled herself from the doctor’s embrace. “Yes, it is. But I’m fine, Nathan. Just fine. I’d like you meet Rich Redman. You remember his grandparents, Gertie and Matthew Redman, don’t you?”

“But of course, of course. Please sit. I’ll have Nancy bring some coffee and some sweets.” He took a seat in a wicker chair and gestured for them to take a seat on a matching wicker couch across from him. Beside him on the floor was a banker’s box of what looked like medical files.

“I must admit, I wasn’t totally surprised to hear Rich wanted to talk to me. But I was truly delighted to hear Lucille’s voice on the phone the other day.” He smiled and tapped his fingers lightly on the arm of his chair.

“Then you must know I’m searching for my half-sister.” Rich decided to get straight to the point. “I know Dad had a child with Anne Alexander, and the child would be just over eighteen years old now. I have money in a trust Grandmother Gertie left and which justifiably belongs to her. But if she’s not found in the next year, then it reverts to me.”

Dr. Winters frowned. “And you think I was involved?”

“I know you were involved with the adoption, yes.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Dr. Winters’s voice took on a cautious tone.

“I spoke with her aunt, Winifred Fox…and some residents of Willow Tree Assisted Living.”

Dr. Winters paused, pondering his next sentence. ‘Wouldn’t it be in your best interest if the money was just returned to the trust?”

“I have a letter from my grandmother which she wrote just before she died.” He withdrew it from his jacket. “It was her wish my half-sister and I meet.” He held it out.

Waving it away, Dr. Winters spoke. “I believe you. That would be just like Gertie Redman. She was a righteous and honest woman. To be fair, though, I’d need to reread the adoption records and see what specific instructions were included before I divulge any information. Sometimes things are better left alone, Rich.”

Rich forced his lips to part in a stiff smile. “Maybe so. But there’s a sizable trust due the young lady, and quite frankly, I want to meet and know my half-sister. I was raised as an only child. For me, money from the trust is secondary to finding a blood relative.”

Commotion from the front room brought everyone to attention. Nancy rushed into the room without the coffee and refreshments. She halted, wringing her hands. “Ivan’s here. I told him you were having a meeting, Dr. Winters, but he insisted he needed to see you immediately.”

“It’s okay, Nancy.” Nathan Winters rose and went to the doorway. “Send him back here.”

Beside Rich, Lulu groaned and elbowed him in the ribs. “For pity’s sake. Just what we didn’t need—Ivan the idiot to muck up the works.”

Ivan appeared in the doorway, dusting water droplets off the shoulder of his impeccable navy blue suit. “Well, well, what have we here? A meeting? Don’t tell me I’m interrupting something?”

“Lucille Smith and Richard Lee Junior asked for an appointment to discuss some business,” replied Dr. Winters. He gestured down the hall toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you grab something to eat? I won’t be long.”

Ivan sauntered farther into the room. “This meeting is basically over anyhow, Father. I know exactly what Rich Redman wants.” He sneered, showing sharp thin teeth. “I don’t think we need to turn over rocks, open old wounds, and go searching for long lost relatives. He’s only in Hickory Valley to stir the pot.”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” Rich stood and used every ounce of restraint to maintain an outward calm demeanor. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he removed it, glancing at the text message.

“I think some civility might be in order here, Ivan,” Dr. Winters urged, offering Ivan a somber gaze.

Ivan brushed aside his father’s remark. “Could I have a private word with you, Redman? It’ll only take a few minutes. I think we share something in common we need to discuss.”

“Now?” There was nothing Rich wanted more at the moment than to pop the meddling banker squarely in his pompous nose. He was sorry Torrie never let him have the pleasure at Webster’s Burgers and Fries the other day. How dare the jackass interfere again? But years of training and dealing with disgruntled people had taught him to shy away from creating a scene even when it was warranted. Upsetting Dr. Winters would not get him the information he wanted.

“We’ll use the study,” Ivan said, sneering. “This will only take a minute.”

Rich handed Lulu his phone, bent down, and whispered, “Please call Torrie and see what she needs. She just texted me she can’t find Estella’s bathing suit at the house and wants to take the girls to the community pool as soon as the rain stops.” He looked up. “I apologize, Dr. Winters, for all these interruptions.”

Dr. Winters waved away the apology. “This just gives Lucille and me more time to get reacquainted.”

Bewildered by the turn of events, Lulu nodded and took the offered cellphone.

The second Rich stepped inside the study and closed the door, his voice changed to a cold, steely tone. “Just what do you mean by interrupting an appointment we had with your father? An appointment, I might add, which is of no concern to you, Ivan.”

Ivan whirled on him. “Everything in this town concerns me. Everything everyone does concerns me! And what concerns me the most is you. Isn’t it about time you finish playing around with your grandmother’s house, sell the damn thing, and go back to Texas where you belong?” Ivan stomped to the window. Red-faced, he barely could keep his temper in check. He looked out. “And I should warn you. You need to leave Torrie Larson alone, too,” he muttered under his breath and whirled to face him.

“What did you say?” Rich shot him a feral glare.

“I said to leave Torrie Larson alone.”

“And why should I?”

“She doesn’t need someone waltzing into Hickory Valley and giving her false hope or stirring up senseless dreams that only serve to hurt her once you head back to Texas. Leave the poor woman alone!”

“Listen, Winters,” Rich ground the words out through teeth clamped so tight they hurt, “I don’t need anyone telling me what I can and cannot do. My relationship with Torrie Larson is none of your business.”

Ivan’s nostrils flared with fury. “Torrie and I grew up together. I want you to back off, Richard Lee. I’m warning you. I could make your life and Torrie’s miserable if I choose to.”

“Are you threatening me?” The cords along Rich’s neck stood at attention. “I don’t know how you think you can threaten me.” He scoffed, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t scare easily, Ivan. You’re certainly irritating, but you’re about as terrifying as a sack of garbage.” He turned and stalked out the door, slamming it as he stormed down the hall.

“Garbage? Are you calling me garbage?” Ivan rushed after Rich, snorting like an angry bull. “How dare you?”

He entered the sunroom on Rich’s heels. “I hope you’re not going to divulge any information without speaking with a legal firm, Dad,” he sputtered. “You may find yourself in a lawsuit if you don’t handle this correctly. It’s time these people leave.”

Dr. Winters looked curiously at Ivan. “As I’ve already told Lucille, I’ll get back to Rich after I locate and study the papers and have them reviewed by legal counsel. Settle down. These people are my guests. There’s no need to be alarmed, Ivan.”

Lulu jumped up like she had springs on her feet. “Richard Lee, I think it’s best if we leave.” She turned to Dr. Winters. “It was nice seeing you again, Nathan.”

“Oh, no. Stay, Lucille. Please stay for some coffee and refreshments. Nancy has made a delicious lemon cake. We’re all adults here. And you and I have so much to catch up on.” He looked at her with obvious disappointment.

“Yes, why not stay, Lulu?” Rich urged. “I can pick you up later.”

“I can drop Lucille off as well,” Dr. Winters offered.

Lulu shook her head vehemently. “No, thank you. I think it’s best if I leave now. I have an idea, Nathan. Why don’t you stop by Gertie’s house some morning and have one of my fresh baked muffins and some coffee? I’ll give you a call, and we’ll pick a convenient day.”

“Sounds good,” Dr. Winters acquiesced in a disheartened tone. He escorted them to the door.

The sun was out, drying the wet lawns and streets and sending out a muggy pallor over the land as steam rose up. With their raincoats over their arms, Rich had a hard time keeping up with Lulu who was racing down the long walkway to their car like she was being chased by a pack of Rottweilers. They stopped by the passenger side of the SUV.

“What’s gotten into you?” Rich glared at her. “You should have stayed. Maybe you could have shaken down the good doctor for some information.”

“With you and Ivan looking like you wanted to start a donnybrook?”

“You know I can’t tolerate the pompous jerk. He told me to stay away from Torrie.” Rich ran his hand though his hair. “So what’s our next move, Watson? Because Sherlock here is plumb out of ideas.”

Lulu handed him the phone. “We go home and look at the pictures I took of the documents in Anne Alexander’s folder.”

“We what?”

Lulu shrugged. “Well, while you were tangling with the village idiot, Dr. Winters went to help Nancy get the refreshments ready, so I figured a quick peek in the good doctor’s banker box couldn’t hurt our cause.”

“You know how to use the camera on my cell phone?”

“Land sakes, Richard Lee Junior, the girls are using Torrie’s phone constantly when she’s around and they’re taking those face pictures together. You know. The ones where they smash their heads together and make ridiculous funny faces and gestures at the camera. What are they called?”

“Selfies?”

“That’s it!”

Lulu’s final words barely spilled out when Rich scooped up the little woman like a sack of feed and twirled her around. “You are really something, Lucille Smith. Never let anyone tell you differently!” He peered up at her, her toes still off the ground.

“Listen up, you overgrown brat, if you don’t put me down this minute, I’m going to wallop you alongside your head with my purse.”

Laughing, Rich set her down gently and hugged her. “Lulu, you have just been awarded a wheelbarrow full of Redman points.” He opened the car door for her and she slipped into the passenger’s seat, folding the pink raincoat and placing it on her lap.

“Let’s not get too carried away,” she mumbled, glancing at him as he slid behind the wheel and shoved a key in the ignition. “We don’t know what’s in those photos on your phone.”

He handed the phone back to her. “Put it in your purse. I have the feeling it’s safer with you than with me. Everyone heard me tell you to use my phone and call Torrie.”

Lulu nodded and slipped the phone into her lime-colored handbag. “Wait a second. Why do I have to keep the evidence? I did all the work. What if there were cameras in the house?”

“Ah, Lulu, I highly doubt there would be surveillance cameras in the sunroom. And no one would ever expect you to be devious. However, in celebration of your stellar sleuthing performance, I’m buying you lunch and then we’re going to the jewelry store.”

“Jewelry store?” She looked at him confused. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m working on it. I need a woman’s opinion.” He drove away merrily belting out the off-key words to the famous country and western song with the same name as Lucille Smith.

From the passenger seat, Lulu curiously eyeballed him. “Are you certain, Richard Lee Junior, you were only drinking orange juice this morning?”

****

The first thing Rich noticed when he returned to Gertie’s house was the tomblike silence pervading every corner of every room when the girls weren’t there. There was no scampering of little feet overhead or up and down the halls. No shoes pounding on the wooden stairs. No shouting and no giggling. No stuffed animals abandoned in every nook and cranny. Even the coloring and reading books were not littering the counters or kitchen table.

He felt a queer stab of loss. It was the same dreaded feeling he hated when he was an only child growing up—emptiness and silence.

He looked around at the floor. Not even a single squeaky toy of Sheba’s was lying around to step on by mistake. He even missed the wretched cat.

“I’ll put on a pot of coffee,” Lulu offered, hanging her raincoat in the hall closet and scurrying back to the kitchen. “Torrie and the girls must have headed to the pool. When they get back, those little girls will be hungry.”

Rich dropped the umbrella in the stand by the door. “Did Torrie say how long they’d be gone?” He followed her down the hall when the house phone on the kitchen counter startled him with its sharp ring. It was Torrie’s number, and he picked it up as the roar of truck engines and sirens wailed in his ears. The frantic shouts of people drowned out what he thought was Torrie’s voice. Finally, she screamed above the commotion, “Rich, can you hear me? Are the girls at the house?”

“Barely,” he said. “I thought the girls were with you at the pool.”

He could scarcely understand her through her frustrated sobs, but seconds later, she was shouting again to be heard. “No, a fire started in the warehouse below my apartment. Everything is ruined. I smelled it shortly after we came back from the pool to change into street clothes and collect the girls’ belongings before heading to your house. I sent the girls outside to the front yard and dialed 911 for the fire company. Then I went down the back stairs to try to find the source. When I finally made it to the front yard, the girls were gone. Rich, I can’t find them. Help me find them. Please!”

“Stay there,” he yelled back into the phone. “Stay calm. I’ll check to see if their bikes are here, then start down through town. Take it easy, Torrie. They couldn’t have gone far. And they know enough to stick together. Estella is street smart from living in the city. She’ll go to a place where it’s safe.” He could feel his heart pounding in his chest even though he forced himself to remain calm and reasonable.

“Okay,” she said coughing. “I have to move. The smoke is blowing in my face. I’m going to get Finn and Gus to start scouring the area.” She clicked off.

Relating the dilemma to Lulu, Rich dashed out the door, keys in hand, and searched the front lawn before he rounded the house to find the girls’ pink bikes neatly parked side by side on the back walk. He raced back to the front, jumped into his vehicle, and followed the route to Torrie’s place, scanning the streets for Estella and Iris as he went. When he pulled up near the apartment, amid a crowd of milling people, three fire trucks, and two police cars with lights on, Torrie rushed over to him. “Rich, I can’t find them!” She flew into his arms. “Where can they be?”

He slumped against the side of the car with her in his arms as the fire fighters extinguished the last of the flames. Torrie’s apartment was charred black, and water gushed from the roof, spilling down the sides to puddle in the street. Around them a gray haze filled the air. If Rich were a betting man, he’d guess most of her belongings were smoke- or water- damaged or destroyed along with the apartment and warehouse. Luckily, the morning rain had helped to keep the building from burning to the ground.

But what he noticed as well was the huge number of town folk who had turned out—Henry Jordon and his son, Kyle, and his granddaughters Denise and Danielle were there. Ivan Winters stood off to one side and Torrie’s siblings, Finn, Elsa, and Lars, were opposite him watching the spectacle beside the fire fighters who had extinguished the flames. On one of the fire trucks, Joe Bradley was working the controls for the ladder while another crew member aimed his hose to wet down the building beside it. Amid the commotion, Torrie’s phone vibrated and without looking to see the caller, she held it to her ear. “Hello,” she shouted above the din.

She shook her head and handed it to him. “I can’t hear a thing. I think it’s Marlene.”

Rich took her phone and spoke, “Hello?”

“Rich, this is Marlene. I was waiting for a call from Torrie and when I didn’t get one, I decided to call. I heard about the fire.”

“We can’t find the girls, Marlene. We’re about to organize a search party.”

“No, don’t bother. They’re with me. Didn’t Joe tell you?” Marlene’s voice was laced with disbelief. “They were smart enough to notice I had a ‘Safe Home’ sign in my front window when they walked past so they stopped and asked for help when they couldn’t locate Iris’s mom. They were worried she may have been hurt. They said they tried to call out to her above the sound of the sirens, but the smoke billowed out into their faces and eyes. The noise, police sirens, and sounds from the fire engines frightened them. When they didn’t get a response after trying to shout above the din, Estella headed to town with a hysterical Iris to try to find help and someone to calm the child down.”

Marlene took a breath. “Joe immediately went to help fight the fire. I told him to tell Torrie or you that I had the girls with me. Do you want me to keep them or bring them down to you? I’m assuming you’re at the scene of the fire.”

“Wonderful news, Marlene. How can I ever thank you?” Rich breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Yes, we’re at the fire. Tell the girls that Torrie is safe. And please keep them until she or I can pick them up. We need to talk to the fire chief as soon as he’s available.”

“You got it, Richard Lee.”

As soon as Rich clicked off, he relayed the information to Torrie. “I don’t know why Joe didn’t tell you about the girls’ whereabouts,” he said in a disgruntled tone.

With a sigh of relief, Torrie slumped farther against Rich and started to cry into his shoulder. “Thank heavens. At least we know they’re safe,” she blubbered through her sobs.

“Hey, hey,” he said, murmuring near her ear. “We found them. Think about what’s important. Some of your belongings are probably ruined, but some might only need to be cleaned. There’s nothing we can’t replace. It’ll be all right, Torrie. You’ll see.” He rubbed her gently on her back. From across the lot he saw Ivan turn and look at them, an angry sneer on his face.

“I was so scared,” she cried. “I was afraid someone took them. Why? Why didn’t Joe tell me? I was here the whole time. It’s not like him to be so careless.”

“He probably was waylaid running the equipment when he first arrived.” He hugged her and tried to make light of the situation. “Torrie, darling, don’t think about it. They’re safe. And face it, anyone who’d take Estella would bring her back within a half hour, after she pounded and hounded the poor soul with a dozen questions.”

Soon it was over. Fire fighters hustled to pack up the equipment and repack the hoses. Town folk slowly drifted away. Joe Bradley came over and removed his helmet and gloves, wiping a sooty hand on his forehead. “The chief seemed to think the fire was set,” he said and shook his head ruefully. “I think most of the contents of your apartment may be ruined, Torrie.”

“As long as everyone is safe.” Torrie peered up at Joe, “Why didn’t you tell me that Marlene had the kids?”

“Didn’t Ivan tell you?” He looked at her with wrinkled brows. “When I arrived on scene, I immediately began setting up the ladder in case it was needed for rescue, so I told Ivan to make sure you knew the girls were at Marlene’s house and were safe.” He swore a string of expletives. “I’m sorry, Torrie. I didn’t know.”

They all turned to look for Ivan who had slipped away, stalking to his vehicle up the street.

Joe and Rich both took off at a run to catch him. Rich reached him first, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around. “Hey, jackass,” he ground out, “you were supposed to tell Torrie the girls were safe at Marlene’s.”

“Yeah, I guess I forgot,” Ivan said, shoving Rich away. “So what’s the big deal, fellas?”

“What’s the big deal? Here’s what the big deal is. Two little girls were scared and needed their parents,” Joe spit out. “How could you be so cruel? So thoughtless, Ivan?”

Torrie had come up beside the men. “Yes, Ivan, I’d like to hear your excuse. You had to know I’d be frantic with worry.”

Ivan shifted his gaze to the door handle of his car. “Sorry, Torrie. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Well, you did!”

Ivan opened his car door. “If you need a temporary place to stay, give me a call. I can help. And I need to talk to you. It’s important.” He slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. His passenger window was down and he glared at Rich. “I’m not finished with you, Redman. You need to know when to high-tail it out of town and leave our women alone.”

He hit the button on his window, gunned the engine, and tore down the street.