Chapter Fifteen
I wasn’t so sure I had nothing to worry about.
I left Tabitha at the historical society and headed home, the Butterscotch Monster gamely chugging along and slipping on the now slushy, yellow brick streets. Rivulets of melting snow had run across the once-clear roads and frozen again in certain patches with the sun newly gone, making the trip home a dicey affair.
Garrett called, and I answered the phone in a rush. I was hot and bothered to make amends given Iris’s straightforward advice and Tabitha’s reassurances. I wasn’t sure what the future would bring, but I didn’t want to lose him.
“I’m sorry about the way—”
“Summer’s missing.”
“What?” My heart leapt to my throat. “Since when? Where do you think she is?” So many questions raced through my brain.
“She didn’t come home from school today. She wasn’t on the bus, and she didn’t show up at home. Dad is going to put out a bulletin in half an hour if we don’t find her. My mother is beside herself.” His words sounded strangely hollow, yet tinged with pure primal fear.
It wasn’t like Summer to wander off without telling anyone.
Scratch that.
The first time I’d met her she’d been fetching her kitten, Jeeves, from under my back porch, her dad and grandparents none the wiser. She’d been sneaking over to Thistle Park all last summer to feed Whiskey and Soda and Jeeves. She’d even almost witnessed a murder in the dead of night as she unflaggingly tended to the kitties.
“I’ll search the grounds.”
“I’ll join you.” He hung up, his voice clipped and tight.
I gathered a flashlight and headed out into the dark late afternoon. The sun had crept toward the horizon an hour ago, and a silvery wafer moon hung from the sky, barely illuminating the sugary smooth ground. Shadows from evergreen trees laden with snow cast their long reach across the lawn, their silhouettes reminding me of monsters.
I crunched through the top layer of ice alongside tracks from deer, raccoon, and rabbits. I called out for Summer until my throat went hoarse. A cursory look through the carriage house proved she wasn’t there, the mural of old-time cars we’d had painted in December standing eerie sentinel in the big space. She wasn’t in the shed either, and I saw no footprints.
I finally made my way to the greenhouse. A small light glowed within, the tiniest orb bouncing up and down through the rows of plants.
Footprints.
The crisp top layer of snow had been marred by boots recently. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the large glass labyrinth and flicked on the light with shaking hands.
“Summer!”
She stood with her backpack still on. She was holding her cell phone aloft in front of her as a makeshift flashlight.
“Mallory.” Her face fell. “You found me.”
“Oh, sweetie.” I ran down the row. In my haste, I knocked over a planter and spilled a bag of potting soil. “Don’t ever not tell your dad where you’re going again.” I nearly knocked her over from the force of my hug and she hugged me back, fiercely.
“What are you doing here?” I whipped out my phone and texted Garrett as I awaited her explanation.
“I’m taking pictures.” Twin beads of tears pooled in her wide eyes and spilled over to stain her cheeks. “I’m trying to do it how Grandpa would if he were investigating. I heard him say they’ll be combing the greenhouse tomorrow, and I wanted to get here first.” Her voice got progressively higher and thinner as she explained her presence here. She’d taken off her hat and gloves in the nearly tropical air and appeared to be sweating in her heavy purple coat, whether because of the thermostat, or because she’d gotten caught. “I thought maybe I could find something to prove my mom didn’t hurt Xavier.”
“Honey, you have to let the police do their job.” I held her at arm’s length and searched her face. “They’ll be fair, I promise.”
I think they’ll be fair.
I couldn’t help but recall Truman’s convincing me to do a borderline illegal search but pushed the thought from my mind.
“Grandpa is trying to frame my mom!” Summer’s voice was full-on shrill this time, and she broke away from my arms and gestured to the bleeding hearts.
“Oh, Summer. I won’t let him.” Garrett closed the door to the greenhouse behind him and gathered Summer up in a colossal hug.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come home on time, Dad.” Summer pulled back and stared up at her father, her tears flowing freely.
“I’m just glad you’re all right. But don’t ever do it again.”
She nodded as he held her close.
“Everything is ruined.” Summer sniffled and dug a worn tissue from her pocket. She dabbed at her eyes and blew her red nose. “Mom has been promising that we’ll spend more time together for so long, and now it’s not ever going to happen.”
A strange look stole over Garrett’s face. “What do you mean, Summer?”
Summer realized she’d spilled some beans and glanced at me. “Mom wants me to come live with her in L.A. for part of the year.”
“My sweetheart!” Lorraine Davies came running into the greenhouse and swept Summer into an embrace. “Don’t you go scaring your old grandma like this!”
Summer laughed and held Garrett’s mom close. She let her grandmother fuss over her and gathered her things to go.
“Good night, Mallory.” Summer offered me a small sheepish smile and left the greenhouse with Lorraine, her investigation forgotten.
Garrett’s jaw worked up and down, but he said nothing. He dug his hands in his overcoat pocket and waited for Summer to advance across the lawn with her grandmother.
“I never should have represented her.” His voice was cold and hard. I couldn’t recall having ever seen him angrier.
“Do you really think Adrienne tried to kill her fiancé?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
Garrett shook his head, his eyes murderous. “I don’t know what to think of her anymore. But one thing’s for certain. I’m done helping Adrienne.”
He dropped a quick kiss on my forehead and stole out of the greenhouse, his long legs whipping across the snow to catch up to his daughter.
* * *
The next morning, I watched as Truman, Faith, and some cadets from the towns and municipalities around Port Quincy destroyed all the hard work we’d put in for Dakota and Beau’s secret red and pink wedding.
I stared with a lump forming in my throat as all my late-night ministrations and planning went up in smoke, or rather, churned-up dirt and upended flowers.
I was pretty sure Dakota and Beau wouldn’t want to feature bleeding hearts as the focal point of their decor now that Xavier was still languishing in a coma, but it was hard to watch the police ruin every bloom we’d lovingly planted.
“What are they looking for?” I asked Truman in a sullen tone as he observed the men and women combing through clippings and sifting through dirt.
“Any stray item that might help us identify who clipped a bleeding heart plant, ground it up, and put it among Xavier’s smoothie ingredients.”
“But this place is probably filled with hair and fibers from everyone who worked in here.”
“And we’re not discounting any of those people,” Truman assured me.
I closed my eyes at the ruined greenhouse and tried to brainstorm a final plan for Dakota and Beau’s nuptials, but my mind drew a blank.
“Maybe they should try to elope like Keith and Becca,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Nothing, just like my plans for the moment. It would be nearly impossible to come up with another plant or flower to serve as the focal point for a red and pink explosion. All of the florists were spoken for with their normal Valentine’s Day orders. A tiny kernel of an idea germinated in my head. I pictured a sea of silk and paper flowers, in every shade imaginable of red and pink. It might work. I was about to head back to the house to share my idea with my sister when they found it.
“Chief! Over here.” The cadets stopped their sifting and shifting of soil when one of their own shouted for Truman. A tall black woman in uniform solemnly held out her hand, a treasure nestled there. It was the snowflake tiara, one prong missing, the mine-cut diamonds still winking and blinking, despite being covered in dirt and grime.
* * *
“Truman thinks the killer may have buried the tiara in a bag of potting soil to frame me.” I shivered and gripped Garrett’s hand tighter. We stood outside the greenhouse watching the technicians take pictures of the bag where the tiara was found.
“It kills me to think the person who did this to Ginger is still at large.” Garrett brought my gloved hands to his lips and brushed them with a kiss. “Promise me you’ll be more careful.”
I laughed a bitter note and lowered my hand. “I’ll be as careful as I can, all while I whip up another wedding plan from the smoldering ashes of this latest botched attempt to give Dakota and Beau a beautiful day.” I gestured to the destroyed greenhouse that was to be a glittering and cozy party venue to celebrate their marriage. I was having as many problems planning this wedding as the bride and groom seemed to be having in their relationship.
Maybe this is the first wedding that won’t go off. And it’ll all be captured on film.
I shook the thought out of my head and vowed to come up with an alternate plan for Dakota and Beau. We could always go back to their black and white Pixie–the–Shih Tzu–inspired wedding, or take back the yellow springtime affair from Owen’s foundation.
“I really came to say I’m sorry.”
Garrett’s apology snapped me out of my feverish plans and I gazed at him. “You what?”
“I reacted badly when I found out you’re considering the destination show. It would be quite a coup for you and your sister.” He took a deep breath and traced the line of my jaw. He exhaled, a jet of steam leaving his mouth as the hot air collided with the frigid atmosphere. “I even understand why you decided not to tell me right away. You have every right to figure out what it is you want before you include me in your decision, if at all.”
I stood back, stunned.
“Thanks,” I whispered. I’m eloquent like that.
“I care so much about you,” Garrett whispered. His eyes took a faraway cast. “Maybe if I’d been more flexible with Adrienne after Summer was born, she wouldn’t have felt the need to run away.”
“You can’t blame yourself for what she did.” I placed a gloved finger over his mouth, but he went on.
“I do blame myself. I wonder if I smothered her.”
I must have looked as worried as I felt then, because Garrett gathered me in his arms anew. “I’m completely over her, by the way. She’s the woman who handed over Summer when she was two weeks old and walked out the door. Summer’s seen her half a dozen times since. She waltzes in and breaks my daughter’s heart. Over and over again.” He winced, the blinding light of the cold sun glancing off the snow. “I started dating Adrienne in college. She had stars in her eyes even then, and she was determined to go to Hollywood. I stayed with her out of inertia. I’m not proud of that, and we parted when I went away to law school. But by then she’d discovered she was pregnant.” He shook his head a little ruefully, unknowingly echoing what Tabitha had told me. “Adrienne was my greatest mistake, and my best mistake. I wouldn’t trade anything that happened if it meant I wouldn’t have Summer.”
“You’re the best dad she could ever have.” I took a deep breath, not sure if I should broach the topic now. “And I think, in her own strange way, Adrienne is trying to be a better mom. Now, at least.”
Garrett cocked his head to the side and finally nodded.
“No matter what happens with this show offer, we should try to work something out.” I stepped closer into his orbit and he ruffled his gloved hands through my hair.
“I’ll cherish you for now, Mallory. But I won’t stifle you.”
“You never have, and you never will.”
I left him to fix the debacle of Dakota and Beau’s plans, as unsure what to do with my life as I had been before. But one thing was for certain; I wanted to give Garrett and me a fighting chance.
* * *
Imagine my surprise when my cell phone showed a missed call from the Port Quincy jail. I called the number back and was informed that Adrienne Larson had dialed me as her one phone call recipient.
“It’s a trap,” Rachel breathed on her newly lavender colored nails, the quicker to dry the polish. “She’s just desperate to find out what the police have dug up on her, now that Garrett’s let her go as his client.”
“Maybe so. But my interest is piqued.” The jail wouldn’t put my call through to her, but they had let me know she’d called. They informed me that visitors’ hours were over today within the hour. I paced in front of the aqua and turquoise couch in the third-floor apartment and discussed the pros and cons with my sister.
“I could just go and see what she was calling me for,” I wheedled.
“Don’t do it! She tried to murder her fiancé, and Truman will murder you if he finds out you’re talking to her.” Rachel put down the minuscule nail polish brush and stared at me as if I’d gone crazy. She resumed blowing on her fingers, the sharp smell of acetone and formaldehyde stinking up the room.
She’s right.
But curiosity got the better of me.
“I’ll just have to make sure Truman doesn’t find out.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was staring at the Port Quincy jail, a marvel of architecture for a place that housed criminals. It was a small limestone castle befitting some minor British duke or earl. The jail structure towered over the Pepto-pink palace of a courthouse and the hulking, ugly brutalist slab of a municipal building. The tallest tower featured hanging gallows, which, according to Tabitha, had actually been used in the late 1800s. I shivered at the thought of such rough justice and entered the building.
A few minutes later, after an obligatory trip through the metal detector and relinquishing of my phone, I was face-to-face with Adrienne. She smiled a cat-got-the-cream Cheshire special when she saw me advance toward the bare-bones table in the visiting lounge.
Damn it, Rachel was right. I’ve been had.
I sighed and sat down, eager to hear what she had to say despite the fact that I felt she’d gotten one over on me.
“Thanks for showing up.” She wore the same blindingly bright orange jumpsuit as the other inmates visiting in the room. But somehow she made the standard-issue garb look like haute couture. She’d cinched the material around her waist to highlight its smallness, and the jumpsuit didn’t hang in a baggy fashion like those adorning the other two women prisoners present. Her makeup was artfully done, if a bit muted, and her flaxen hair was as flawless as usual. I stared at my dark jeans and kelly green sweater and vowed to try to look a little more glamorous if jailbird Adrienne made me feel so self-conscious. On closer inspection, however, I realized her cool eyes were not as keen and imperious as usual, and her hands shook in a barely perceptible manner.
Adrienne took a deep breath, shifting into pitch mode.
“I need to get out of here.” Her perfectly calm, collected visage faltered a bit, and her right brow twitched. “I need your help. You’re a lawyer, too, right?”
“Whoa, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not here in my capacity as a lawyer.” I still had my law license, but I wasn’t planning on using it anytime soon. Especially not to help spring Adrienne from the slammer.
“Garrett won’t represent me now that he thinks I’m trying to take Summer.” Her voice was just panicked enough to draw the attention of a guard, who looked over sharply. Adrienne dropped her voice, finally rattled.
“Um, weren’t you encouraging Summer to make an extended visit happen?” I gently removed Adrienne’s grasping hand from my wrist.
She sat back, dejected and deflated. “I wanted to arrange to see more of my daughter. Perhaps have her visit for a month in August. I knew Garrett would never go for it.”
He has his reasons.
Adrienne bit her lip and looked down at her perfectly preserved French manicure. “I don’t expect you to feel sorry for me.” She looked up, her icy blue gaze compassionate for once. “My parents were gone before I started college. I didn’t know anyone at Quincy College. And then I met Garrett.” Her eyes warmed, then shut down. “We were so happy at first. We weren’t meant to last beyond college, though, and we should have ended things when he went away to law school.” She drew herself up tall in her metal chair and looked me in the eye. “I’m not proud of what I did. He left Harvard for me, to come back to Port Quincy and to take care of me and Summer. But I wasn’t in love with him anymore.” She winced. “It was overwhelming. I didn’t know if I was cut out to be a mother. And then I got a call.”
“A call?”
“An invitation to audition for Silverlake High. They were looking for an actress to replace Caitlin Quinn. I never told anyone that’s why I left. Garrett just thought I flaked out, but I had a plan.” Her blue eyes pleaded with me.
A shiver ran down my spine.
How does Adrienne fit in with the show Dakota was on? And Caitlin Quinn died on? Is there a connection?
“It was going to be my big break. I planned to get the part, and it wasn’t wishful thinking. Xavier was the director. He later told me I was casting’s front-runner. The pay would have been more than enough for me and Summer. I planned to petition for custody.” A wistful look graced her lovely face. “I would have gotten it, too.”
I shook my head, annoyed. “Judges don’t just award custody to the mother because of her gender. You left your daughter, and Garrett was taking care of her.”
Adrienne winced at the reminder but went on.
“Strange things are happening again, Mallory. Did you know Caitlin Quinn died on the set of Silverlake High in early February? Ginger died on the precise thirteenth anniversary of Caitlin’s death.”
A cold, clammy chill spread between my shoulder blades.
“After Caitlin died, Silverlake High was cancelled. I had no money to get back to Port Quincy, plus my pride was in shambles. I decided to make a go of it in L.A., because if I was invited to try out for a popular show, I banked on there being other roles. But I didn’t get anything for a long, long time. I worked on bit jobs, saving up for Summer, and the years slipped by. I’d make it back to Port Quincy to see her for a few days, but it was never enough.”
A silver sliver of a tear ran down Adrienne’s cheek and she impatiently brushed it away. I felt a frisson of sympathy for Adrienne. And it made me nervous.
The guard came over to collect Adrienne and take her back to her cell.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I rose from my chair, our already short meeting over.
I was as confused as ever. I hadn’t known Adrienne had a connection to Dakota’s past. Maybe Adrienne hadn’t killed Xavier, but she could have been involved in Caitlin’s accident to get the part, desperately doing whatever she could to get a chance for custody of Summer. Adrienne may have been in jail for the wrong crime, but I was glad she was behind bars for now.