Chapter Nine

Lucy stared into the Langley’s side yard. The apple tree no longer looked like something out of an Edward Gorey print. Green buds softened the twisted branches and, in a matter of days, pink blossoms would dress the tree in its yearly finery. Finally, spring had sprung.

Jake hadn’t come home for supper and, she suspected, he wouldn’t come home until everyone, including Lucy, was safely in bed. She rested her forearms on the porch railing and watched the children playing in the yard.

She thought she’d done a pretty good job during her second tour of duty as temporary nanny. She’d enjoyed taking care of the kids and, if she hadn’t gotten over her feelings for Jake, she’d kept them hidden. No more mooning around. No more trying to set up an “accidental” meeting in the narrow hallway. No more night-time visits to the porch in the hope that he’d follow. She no longer pretended to herself that she was Jake’s wife or the twins’ mother. She kept her fantasies under wraps until she was alone in her own bed.

Lucy had thought she had the obsession under control but it wasn’t true. One look at Hallie’s head on his broad shoulder and Hallie’s baby in his arms had sent an arrow through her heart. They’d looked so Norman Rockwell. So perfect. So exactly what Jake wanted. He couldn’t have it, of course. Not with Hallie. But he couldn’t have it with Lucy, either. She simply couldn’t be his consolation prize.

Out in the yard Sam waved from his seat in the rope swing Jake had mounted in the apple tree. Lucy grinned and waved back, her heart in her throat. She’d miss the little boy so much. She’d miss Lillie, too. She knew they needed a mom and she prayed that they’d get one soon. Someone just like Hallie. In the meantime, Lucy intended to end the estrangement between Jake and his in-laws.

Sam and Lillie needed their grandparents. And Jake, well, Jake needed them, too.

Lucy gazed up at the darkening sky. The spear of pain she’d felt this afternoon had subsided into a dull but persistent ache in her chest. Jealousy was as strong a force as love or hate or loyalty. Maybe stronger. Was it possible that Shirley Packer had felt this way when she’d seen her husband of thirty years with the younger woman? Was it possible that Paula had happened upon a similarly tender scene between the two who had spent most of a lifetime together? Had one or the other of the two wives killed their mutual husband?

It was possible. Likely, even. What, after all, was an alibi in the face of the green-eyed monster that had the power to turn a person inside out?

After she put the children in bed, Lucy phoned Shirley Packer and asked for another meeting.

“Why?”

An excellent question.

“I’d like to talk with you about your experiences on safari.”

“Ah. Because the great white hunter was killed with the same weapon he used to bring home all those trophies, right?”

“I think my readers will be interested in the irony.”

“I imagine so. I can see you on Saturday.”

In the meantime, Lucy would have her hands full trying to come up with an alibi for Cam. She knew he was lying to protect Molly Whitecloud for some reason and she knew he would continue to lie. Lucy would have to get Molly to talk to Jake.

Jake. Just thinking about him brought back the suffocating feeling of jealousy.

Her cell phone rang and she hesitated. She wasn’t ready to discuss what she’d seen but then maybe it wasn’t Jake. She answered it.

“Luce, I just wanted to check if you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.” She loved her new sister-in-law dearly, but at the moment, Hallie was the last person with whom she wanted to speak.

“Listen, honey, I’m not trying to butt into your life but I need you to know there’s nothing going on between Jake and me.”

“Because you’re married.”

“That’s right. And because there never was that much going on between us.”

A white lie to soothe her feelings.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, hoping she could end the conversation before the tears that had gathered behind her eyes began to make their way down her cheeks. “I can’t stay here, Hallie. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

****

The bedroom was dark and tiny, a cubicle in a modest, overheated mobile home. A woman writhed on the bed, trying to find some kind of relief from the pain wracking her body and the sweat that poured into her eyes. Every once in a while, a tortured groan escaped her and Lucy’s heart squeezed in sympathy.

“You’re making good progress, Winnie,” Molly Whitecloud murmured to the sufferer. “This is transition, the worst part. You’re almost there.” The dark eyes gazed, unseeing, at the midwife. “Almost there,” Molly repeated. She laid a cool, wet washcloth on Winnie Deer Killer’s forehead. “Just a little while longer and it will be time to push.”

Molly stepped back as Rain Deer Killer, gray hair scraped back in a long braid, face as wizened as a dried apple, appeared with a homemade poultice, which she spread on her daughter-in-law’s swollen belly.

“What about drugs?” Lucy whispered.

“Winnie’s going natural,” Molly said, in a normal voice. “She’s doing what’s best for the baby.”

Winnie’s body twisted as another contraction hit.

Lucy suspected the woman would like to re-think that decision.

“There’s little choice for women of the rez,” Molly explained as if she’d heard the unspoken thought. “We have no clinic and no doctor and thus, no anesthetic. To have a medicated childbirth, a woman has to check into Eden Memorial Hospital. Even an overnight stay costs thousands and most of our folks are uninsured. Winnie’s healthy and young and the child is in the right position. The pain will disappear as soon as she delivers her child. She’ll forget all about this part.”

Molly was a professional midwife and, no doubt, knew best but it was hard to believe Winnie would ever forget this morning. And it seemed inhuman to put her through it when a mere insurance policy could have brought relief.

Molly stroked the young woman’s forearm. “I can tell the poultice is working.”

The moans subsided somewhat. Did the smelly glop on Winnie’s belly really cut the pain or was it a placebo? Lucy guessed it didn’t matter which.

“I want Ray,” Winnie whimpered.

“A man does not belong here,” her mother-in-law said.

“This is his baby, too,” Molly pointed out, gently. “If Winnie wants him, he should come.” The older woman clearly respected Molly’s opinion. She opened the door and disappeared down a narrow hallway. When she reappeared she was followed by a tall, thin, very young man who looked like he should be in his bedroom finishing his algebra homework, not witnessing the birth of his child. He reminded Lucy of a cat being dragged by the scruff of his neck even though no one was touching him. He looked scared to death.

“Sit here,” Molly told him, in a no-nonsense voice. “Just hold her hand. Your mother will stay in the room and I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Molly motioned to Lucy. They walked through the tiny living room stuffed with chattering female relatives and friends and found a seat outside on the front stoop.

Molly sank onto the concrete with a sigh. She smoothed her hands over her jeans-clad thighs. With her pink-flowered T-shirt and thick braid she looked like a teenager except for her air of calm confidence. She made a face.

“I hate it when they call me ‘ma’am.’ It makes me feel like Methuselah.”

The words shocked Lucy. “You’re not old.”

“Thirty. Sometimes it feels old.”

Lucy didn’t know the midwife well but she’d never seen her anything but calm and cheerful. Except the night of the storm.

“Forgive me if this is too personal,” Lucy said, “but you love people and babies. Why do you have no family of your own? Don’t tell me all this natural childbirth stuff scared you off.”

Molly chuckled. “The midwife gets all the fun of the birthing process and none of the pain.”

It was a good answer but not a complete one. Lucy waited. Molly’s silence made Lucy ashamed.

“I’m so sorry. That was unpardonably nosy. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Molly smiled, briefly, as if to reassure her. “Childbirth doesn’t scare me off,” she said, evenly. “My life just hasn’t worked out that way.”

Emotion was crouched beneath her even tone. What was it? Disappointment? Regret? Loss? Was she sorry she’d given up her young love? And what had happened to the man she’d married when Cam was away at college?

Lucy couldn’t bring herself to pry any further.

“It can still work out for you,” Lucy said, comfortingly. “You’re young.”

Molly smiled her thanks. “Don’t worry about me. I have a good life. Now, you came out here for a reason, right?”

Lucy had almost forgotten. She nodded and pulled the silver earring out of the pocket of her windbreaker.

“I found this, Molly. At the construction site.”

Color zip-lined across Molly’s high cheekbones. “When?”

“Two days after the storm. It was half-buried in the mud right near where they found the body.” She held it up and the shiny feather glittered in the morning sun. Then she took Molly’s hand, turned it palm up and dropped the earring in it.

“Why didn’t you give this to the sheriff?”

Lucy shrugged. “I didn’t see any point in getting you involved if you dropped it there last summer or something.”

Molly’s fingers closed around the trinket. “I didn’t lose it last summer. I lost it last week. I didn’t have anything to do with Nate Packer’s murder, Lucy, but I was there—at the casino site. You should give this to Jake.”

Lucy studied her. She’d felt fairly certain Molly wouldn’t lie and she’d been right.

“I’m giving it to you.”

Molly looked at her a long moment. “Do you have any idea where Jake is in his investigation?”

Lucy shivered in spite of the sun’s warmth. “I think he’s stuck. As far as I know he’s still looking at Cam as the chief suspect.”

Molly’s indigo eyes widened and Lucy read the fear in them.

“But he didn’t do it.”

“I know. The trouble is, everybody else has a credible alibi and Cam had motive, means and opportunity.”

“Ms. Molly! Ms. Molly!” Ray Deer Killer’s voice had shot up into an adolescent register. “You gotta come! Ma’s suffocating Winnie!”

Lucy expected the midwife to jump to her feet but she didn’t.

“Go with Ray,” Molly directed Lucy. “Make sure Winnie’s all right. I’ll be there in three minutes.” She pulled a slim cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans while Lucy hurried inside to see to the mom-to-be.

Minutes later Lucy’s heart turned over as Molly caught the scrap of new life in her arms and the grimace on Winnie Deer Killer’s face transformed itself into a smile of pure joy.

“What color are your eyes,” Winnie asked Molly.

“Dark blue. Some people call it indigo.”

“Indigo,” Winnie repeated. “That’s what I will name her. Indigo.”

“That’s quite an honor,” Lucy said, when they were back in her Jeep and headed toward Molly’s cottage. “To have the baby named after you.”

Molly nodded. “This is a very rewarding job.”

A few moments later Lucy turned down Molly’s lane. There was a white Blazer in front of the cottage and, leaning against it, a tall man, wearing khaki uniform slacks, a brown leather jacket and a sheriff’s hat tilted over his eyes. Lucy’s heart jerked.

“What’s he doing here?”

“I called him,” Molly said, calmly. “I asked him to come.”

Lucy parked in the driveway and they got out of the Jeep. Jake followed them into the house, his entire attention on the midwife. He seemed comfortable in her small home, as if he’d been there before.

Lucy felt the now-familiar flicker of jealousy and she was disgusted with herself. She straightened her spine and forced herself to block out the compelling masculine scent.

“I’ll make the tea,” she said.

“Thank you for coming,” Molly said to Jake. “I apologize for the wait.”

“No problem.” The undertone of impatience in his words irritated Lucy.

“She’s been a little busy,” Lucy pointed out, without turning around. She spooned the tea leaves into the pot. “She delivered a baby this morning.”

She could feel his eyes on her back. He was probably wondering at her hostility. She wondered at it herself.

“Boy or girl?”

Molly told him a little bit about the Deer Killers and their baby. When Lucy had served the tea, Molly cleared her throat.

“I’ll get to the point. Cameron Outlaw has an alibi for the night of Nate Packer’s murder. We were together after the Tribal Council meeting. We drove over to the casino site. That’s where I dropped this earring.” She produced the silver feather. “We talked for a while then got back in his car and came here.”

Jake nodded slowly. “When did he leave?”

Lucy noticed two bright spots of color along Molly’s cheekbones.

“He didn’t leave. Not until morning.”

“Ah,” Jake said. “So he was protecting you.”

“My reputation, I think. It probably didn’t occur to him that I’d need an alibi for the murder.” She made an oddly helpless gesture. “In any case, it doesn’t matter. I’m thirty years old. No one is worried about where I spend my night or with whom.”

“Are you and Outlaw dating?”

“No. No, nothing like that. We’re old friends. We were just catching up.”

“Who found the earring?”

The question was so low key it took Lucy a moment to understand its significance.

“I did.” Molly spoke too fast. Naturally, Jake wasn’t fooled. His gaze shifted to Lucy.

“Then what are you doing out here?”

Lucy threw Molly an apologetic look.

“Molly’s trying to protect me. I found the earring. Yesterday. When I was at the murder site with Flynn.”

“And there was no chance to tell me about it.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself but it wasn’t necessary. There hadn’t been a chance to tell him. He hadn’t come home last night. But she wouldn’t have told him, anyway.

“I wanted to speak with Molly first.”

Jake’s angry expression assured her he’d have something to say about that later. He transferred his attention back to the midwife.

“So you’d gone out to the casino site to talk and, while you were standing there, right where a man would be killed minutes later, you just happened to lose an earring.”

“That’s right.” Molly didn’t look at him. “We heard a car coming down that old logging road behind the trailer so we left.”

“What time was that?”

“Between 9:45 and 10.”

“Good grief!” Lucy gaped at her friend. “The driver must have been the murderer!”

“Or Packer, himself,” Jake said. “Unless they were together.”

“Maybe the murderer was already on the premises,” Lucy said. “Maybe he or she was listening to you and Cam talk!”

A telltale color burned in Molly’s cheeks, again. Good grief! Cam and Molly hadn’t been just talking out here. They’d been…Lucy refused to finish the thought.

“Did you hear anything?”

“No. I don’t know. I thought I heard something. A kind of rustling,” Molly told Jake, “but it could have been a breeze.”

“Then you came back here to finish your discussion.”

“Yes.” There was so much emotion in her voice that Lucy knew she was telling the truth. They’d come back here. And talked. Nothing more.

“Are you certain Outlaw stayed the whole time?”

“Until at least three. That’s when I fell asleep. He left sometime after that. He was gone when I woke up at six.”

“Why did he feel he needed to protect your reputation?”

“There was a lot of gossip about us years ago. I imagine he didn’t want to stir it up again. I understand he’s dating someone in Eden. The innkeeper.”

“So he kept quiet to protect himself,” Jake said.

Molly shrugged.

“Pretty big risk,” Jake said. “He could be charged with obstructing a murder inquiry.”

“But he didn’t really obstruct it,” Lucy put in. “You continued to interview people and collect evidence.”

“Thank you for your expert legal opinion,” Jake snapped. His voice softened when he spoke to Molly.

“Why did you come forward now?”

“I didn’t want the old gossip resurrected, either. I should have contacted you right away. I was a coward. Not for the first time.”

Minutes later Jake and Lucy walked outside.

“They were trying to protect each other,” Lucy said.

“They were obstructing the investigation,” he said, without heat. “So were you.”

Suddenly Lucy felt bone-weary.

“Well, now you know.”

“Like hell. They’re still lying.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something going on between your brother and Molly Whitecloud.”

“They’re just friends.”

“Are you blind, Lucy? You ever notice the color of the walls in her cottage? All the walls?”

She didn’t understand. “They’re blue, aren’t they?”

“They’re the blue of the summer sky.”

How many times had people used that description for her eyes and those her brother?

Lucy felt another slash of pain, this time it was for Cam and his star-crossed lover.

****

Lucy’s emotions were on overload. She didn’t need to be at work and she didn’t have to get back to Jake’s house until dinnertime. What she needed was to get away…up, up and away. She pointed the Jeep toward Bangor and headed to the airstrip outside town.

It was only her second lesson. She’d taken the first, thinking that familiarity with a small plane might be useful when she got her dream job reporting overseas, plus there was the indisputable fact that people did not consider pilots loose screws. Tacked on was her hope that learning to fly a plane might cure her fear of flying.

It was too soon to tell whether she’d achieve any of her goals but the afternoon of gliding above the woods and fields of springtime Maine in the competent hands of the instructor, had been soothing. She felt decidedly more mellow when she turned the Jeep toward home and the crimson sunset. She wasn’t needed at Jake’s until suppertime so she decided to stop in at her apartment for an hour. She turned down Walnut Street, parked the Jeep in the empty clinic lot then climbed the outside stairs. It wasn’t until she reached the small landing that she realized there was someone huddled outside her door. The last rays of the sun illuminated the golden curls.

“Good grief! Sam!”

The boy’s thin arms reached for her and his lower lip trembled as he tried to bite back tears. Lucy scooped him up and held him against her. Six-year-old legs locked around her waist and he buried his face in her shoulder.

A million questions raced through Lucy’s head but she bit them back and held onto the sobbing child. Finally he released his grip enough for her to locate her key and, a minute later, they were seated on the worn chintz sofa.

“What’s this all about, sweetie?”

He sniffed and sat back. Her heart twisted at the sight of his red and blotchy face.

“Me and Lillie thought you wasn’t coming back.”

“Why would you think that, sweetheart?”

“Lillie heard you talking on the phone. I comed to bring you home.”

Guilt sleeted through Lucy. Lillie must have overheard her conversation with Hallie. Dang. She should have been more careful. She should have known the children would be confused by the on-again, off-again arrangement. They needed stability and Jake and she had failed to provide it. Lucy made an instant decision. She wouldn’t bail on Jake. Not until Mrs. Peach was home to stay. And she’d urge Jake to step up his second-wife search. This situation was utterly unfair to the children.

Lucy hugged the boy and dried his eyes. “Does anybody know where you are?”

“Jus’ Lillie.”

Lord. Jake must be out of his head.

“Okay, pal, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to take you home and I’m going to stay there with you, okay?” He nodded. “But first I have to call your dad.”

“Is Daddy gonna be mad at me?”

“Probably. A little. Because he’s worried. You can’t go off on your own again, honey. It’s just too dangerous. But he’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Are you happy to see me, Lucy?”

“More than you know.”

“Are you goin’ to stay with us forever?”

It would have taken a harder heart than Lucy’s to admit the truth. That she couldn’t stay forever.

“I’ll stay, honey. I’ll stay as long as you need me.” She meant it, too.

****

It gave Jake a queer feeling to watch Lucy’s Jeep disappear down Molly’s lane. He didn’t want to let her go. He knew it had hurt her to see him with Hallie and the baby. Hallie must be right. She must care about him. She probably thought she was in love. Twenty-two-year-old women always thought they were in love. He sighed. He didn’t know what to say to her. He was no longer sure that it was right to marry Lucy. She really did have her whole life in front of her. Who was he to tie her down?

At least her brother was off the hook.

He drove over to the Trading Post-slash-community center to touch base with Davey Tall Tree who hadn’t yet figured out who had taken the war arrow off the display. He spoke, once again, to several of the young males gathered there to play pool. They were typical, bored kids, underemployed and a little rowdy. He couldn’t convince himself that any of them had a motive to kill Nate Packer.

Jake handed Davey a few bills for a sandwich and a soda and got some advice back with his change.

“You might want to talk to Molly Whitecloud,” he said.

“Already did. Just now.”

The chief’s pudding face creased into a thoughtful look.

“She’s a fine woman, Molly. Been single a long time.” He paused. “You single, Sheriff?”

Single. Widowed. Divorced. Jake didn’t try to explain his marital situation. He nodded.

“I heard you got a coupla kids.”

“A boy and a girl.”

“Molly’d make a fine mama.”

Jake bit back an exasperated sigh. Why hadn’t he seen that coming?

He nodded, not wanting to encourage the conversation.

“Don’t look like Cam Outlaw’s gonna do nuthin’ about her. Thought mebbe they’d get together but it seems like they’re finished.”

Jake nodded again but he didn’t agree. Whatever was going on between Cam and the midwife, it was far from finished. He drove out to the casino site, got out of the Blazer and leaned against it as he ate his lunch. It was so quiet out here. He closed his eyes and imagined that it was two hundred years earlier, that the wooded area was still filled with tipis and campfires and the sounds of children playing. What had Molly heard out here that night? Birds? Maybe an owl? Or had the murderer been waiting for Nate, either in his own car or in the construction trailer? Why had Packer stopped here in the dark, after the meeting? He was the kind of guy who might have had a woman on the side but Jake thought that was unlikely considering his apparent devotion to Paula.

He might have had a deal on the side, too.

If he was working with the Jersey mob, he might have met a representative out here but Jake didn’t think so. Packer wasn’t the sharpest arrow in the quiver but he knew how to look out for himself. He’d have known better than to plan a clandestine meeting with a mobster.

Jake opened his eyes and gazed at the budding leaves on the deciduous trees on the site’s perimeter. Budding leaves. He could hear birds singing and chirping but there was no rustling sound.

Damn. If Molly was telling the truth, she had heard somebody out here. It had to be someone who’d arrived in his or her own car and departed the same way. It had to be someone Packer had arranged to meet. Not Cam, apparently. Not Moore, who’d been with him at the Tribal Council. Paula? Shirley? Claude? X?

Jake unlocked the construction trailer and took a look around. Nothing had been touched since last week when he and Homer had searched it thoroughly. Not that there had been much to search as construction hadn’t yet begun.

He stepped outside and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. The area had been gone over with a fine tooth comb but Jake did it again, this time pretending he was stalking a victim who’d parked not far from the trailer. Molly said they’d heard the sound of one car engine. Did that mean Packer and the murderer had arrived in the same vehicle? Or, had the murderer arrived earlier, hidden his car on the old logging road and lain in wait for his victim?

They’d found no tire tracks on either of the dirt roads but the heavy rain, followed by the next day’s snowstorm would have obliterated any trace.

Once again Jake closed his eyes and, taking advantage of the afternoon’s peace, he employed a trick taught him by his mentor back in L.A., one Patrick McGillicuddy. Mac had said that to solve a murder, study the victim. Jake let his mind drift and swirl, focusing generally on what he knew about Nate Packer.

The guy was sixty, outgoing, charismatic and self-centered. He flaunted his wealth with a gaudy mansion and an even gaudier trophy wife. He flaunted his athletic prowess, too, with those safari kills. He’d wanted a son to carry on his name badly enough to jettison a smart and loyal wife and to humiliate his lifelong best friend. The weird thing was, neither of those two seemed to have put up much of a fuss. Why?

Jake had thought from almost the beginning that the murder seemed personal. Claude’s role in Packer, Inc. had changed but he was still Packer’s personal attorney and friend. Shirley Packer was the woman scorned. She’d struck him as a sensible woman with a somewhat chilly personality. Had that extended to the bedroom? Had Packer wanted a more enthusiastic sexual partner? If so, he may have been disappointed. In Jake’s experience, overtly sexual women tended to be bored or boring when push came to shove. That’s the way it had been with Ariel.

His mind kept reverting to the first Mrs. Packer. She was lean and fit. What if the legend of the great white hunter was just that? What if Shirley had been an archer, too, but, to placate her husband’s ego, she’d lied about her own participation in the safaris?

The same could be true of Moore, although Jake considered that less likely. The attorney did not seem athletic in the least and, in any case, he’d shot the photos.

The case was coming together. It was like working a jigsaw puzzle. If you stared at the shapes of the pieces and the slight variations in color long enough, a picture began to emerge.

At the moment, Jake’s money was on Shirley. She had an alibi, of course, but they all had alibis. That’s what he’d check next. Those alibis.

The sun dropped below the tree line and the budding branches splintered the sunlight. Jake realized he’d been out here for hours. Time to head home. The prospect filled him with a warm anticipation which he knew was only partly because of the children. Lucy would be there tonight. Lucy would be in his home.

With Lucy there, they seemed like a family.

He needed her, dammit and the kids needed her. Suddenly he didn’t care that she was only twenty-two and had her whole life in front of her. He wanted that life to be spent with him.

Suddenly, at five-fifteen on a May afternoon in the middle of M-15, Jake Langley faced the truth.

It had started out as infatuation but this thing between him and Lucy, well, it had grown into something else. He shook his head. Jake wasn’t a man who believed in happily ever after but this twenty-two-year-old, this fledgling woman trying so hard to prove herself, had changed his mind.

He was in love with Lucy.

The sun had disappeared beneath the horizon by the time Jake turned off Third Street and onto Cypress. It was that mystical time when day was ended but night had not yet begun. The neighborhood was quiet, the children back in the houses getting ready for bed. Parents were getting their second wind and looking forward to an uninterrupted evening of television or reading or talking or making love. Jake felt breathless, strangely alive and, to tell the truth, turned on. He was going to tell her tonight. He was going to propose again. And this time he was going to do it right.

He pulled up in front of his house and blinked. Everyone in Eden seemed to be on his front lawn. He scanned the crowd for Lucy but it was Hallie Scott Outlaw who caught his eye. Her face was gray with worry.

An uneasy fist pounded into Jake’s gut.

Something was very wrong.