Digging Up Death (A Mari Duggins Mystery) (28 page)

Natasha swung her manicured weapons at Susan. I grabbed her hand before she struck. Coming here was a bad idea. “Let’s go. We can call Detective Lopez and tell him what you suspect.” I started toward the car.

Natasha seized my wrist. “No, I told you no police. Not until we have some real evidence.”

Susan shouted something to Natasha as she backed away, but I couldn’t hear it over Natasha’s ranting. If Natasha was taking something for anxiety, it was about time for her next dosage. I only hoped she had some to spare to calm me before my interview.

***

2:59 p.m.

PERSPIRATION SOAKED MY PALMS as I walked through the air conditioned studio toward the tall, debonair host of
Rise and Shine
. Dressed in khaki pants and a designer sweater, he looked inviting, just like the swanky, yet comfortable set of KTXL’s morning show. My muscles relaxed. The black Armani skirt and cashmere sweater I wore complemented his casual attire, though I knew better than to wear red on television. What was I thinking?

“Welcome, I’m John Lewis.” He extended his hand.

As if I didn’t already know. “I’m Mari Duggins. Please to meet you, Mr. Lewis.”

“Call me John.” He squeezed my hand gently and patted the seat next to him. His warm smile melted my anxiety. I sat, soaking in the plush comfort of the expensive leather chair. This was it. The moment I’d been dreaming about. The cards were dealt, and I was about to ante up in the biggest game of my career.

He handed me a microphone. I clipped it to my sweater and did an audio check.

“Jan Carson will be in the booth listening and observing how you look on camera, to see if there’s any chemistry between us.”

“Like Regis and Kelly back in the day, only earlier in the morning?”

“Something like that. No need to be nervous. We’re all family here.” He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Just talk to me as if we were old friends.”

We chatted about the weather, my job as Professor of Archaeology at the university, his spouse, my ex. The conversation flowed until he inquired about my children.

“I have three. Two boys and a girl.”

“How do you do it? Bridget and I have one son, and we can’t seem to stay above water. With my profession, her charity events, and my son’s budding career it’s a miracle we’re a family at all.”

“Is your son following you in television?”

“No, he’s a musician. He was supposed to perform for this big Christmas concert, but some punk …” John shifted in his seat, his tone more rigid with every syllable. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t very professional of me.”

“No need to apologize. I understand completely. I’m having trouble with one of my own.” To put it mildly.

With the clap of his hands, John Lewis, the charming host, reappeared. “So, are you prepared to wake at 3:00 a.m. every morning, bright eyed and smiling for our five o’clock audience?”

“I won’t mind missing the rush hour traffic, and it’d be nice to pick up my son from school every day.”

“You’re willing to give up being an archaeologist?”

The question hit hard and left me derailed. Was I ready to turn in my dry eraser? Hang up my fedora, so to speak? “I don’t see it as giving up archaeology, but another opportunity to share what I know about people and humanity with the world.”

John Lewis chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to go into politics instead?”

“Not in the least. Mr. Lewis. I want this job. I know I can do it and add something special to your morning show.”

“I think you’re right. How do you feel about changing your name? Lewis and Duggins doesn’t have that special ring.”

“I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess lots of people in show business change their names.” Did I actually say “show business?”

“I changed mine and found the perks help keep my private life out of the public eye. How about Lewis and Daniels, or Lewis and Davis?”

“I like the sound of Lewis and Martin.” I waited, hoping he got my joke.

“Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin, funny. I think we’ll work well together.” John touched his earpiece and stood. “Seems like our time is over. They’ve got another applicant waiting in the lobby.”

I stood and extended my hand. “Thank you so much for your time and consideration.”

“I’ll walk you out.” We chatted some more as he showed me to the studio door. A short, young brunette stopped him in the hall. Probably an intern. “Mr. Lewis, your wife is on the line. She needs to talk to you right away.”

John Lewis leaned toward me. “Probably maxed out her credit card. Tammy, can you tell her I’ll be in interviews for the rest of the afternoon? I’ll call as soon as I can.”

The brown-eyed girl shifted her weight. “Sure, but Mrs. Lewandowski said it was urgent. Something about your son’s surgery.”

My heart tripped. Lewandowski?

“I’m sorry, Mari. I need to go. It was nice meeting you.” He hurried off before I could respond, leaving me with the awful hand I’d been dealt. A lousy, unexpected game I couldn’t bluff my way out of, but with cards I couldn’t bring myself to fold.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

5:05 p.m.

GOD REALLY HAD A warped sense of humor. Todd Lewandowski? The boy Matt assaulted. The son of John Lewis? I couldn’t help laugh as I walked through the Bombay restaurant parking lot. What did I expect? One little prayer of forgiveness and my whole life would fall into place?

As ironic as the situation was, I still had to make a decision. If I confessed I was the mother of the punk who broke his son’s nose, then I wouldn’t stand a chance at the morning co-host spot. But if I said nothing, and John Lewis found out later, after I got the contract, how would I feel knowing I deceived him to advance my career? How could I sit beside him morning after morning, chatting like we were friends? A lose-lose situation no matter what I decided.

I stepped through the clattering, beaded curtain, curry and incense assaulting my battered psyche. The drive had been a blur, but I sobered quick, knowing why I was here.

Candy’s rendezvous with her secret admirer. And I played the role of guardian angel. At least
she
had one.

Stringed music twanged in my ears as I scanned the dim room, draped with gold and burgundy fabric. No sign of Candy or anyone resembling a cyber stalker. I ducked in the bathroom, hoping to remain incognito before Candy arrived.

“Mari? For heaven’s sake, what are you doing here?” Candy’s round amber eyes stared at me. So much for playing spy.

It was the first time I’d seen her salt-and-pepper hair down and her wearing a not-so-little black dress for the occasion. “I … a … just stopping off for a bite before the memorial service.”

“Well, isn’t this perfect? I’d like you to come meet someone near and dear to my heart.”

I followed Candy, trying to keep pace as she swerved around the tables toward the far end of the restaurant. “There’s someone I want to introduce you to.” She pointed to the back of a man dressed in a stylish brown suit.

“Mari, I’d like you to meet—”

The man turned around.

“Danny?” My mouth hung open.

“My son.” Candy wiped at her tears. “Can you believe it? He’s your Danny.” She giggled. “My Danny!”

I turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes went all puppy-dog-like. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I wanted to do this on my own. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel knowing I was her son.”

Trying not to reveal my shock, I scooted next to Candy who sat across from Danny, her son. That meant Henderson was Danny’s father!

“I guess now’s a good time to finish my story.” Candy folded her hands on the table. “Danny’s father wanted to have an abortion, but I wouldn’t hear of it.” She caressed Danny’s hands and gazed into his eyes. Similar in shape to her own.

“I really think I should leave you two alone.” I stood. “I’m sure you have lots to catch up on.”

Candy touched my hand. “You haven’t eaten yet. Stay, I ordered Lamb Vindaloo and garlic Nan.”

“I guess I could stay. I am a little hungry.” I hung my Gucci purse on the chair.

Candy patted my hand. “Isn’t it funny how me and Danny both love spicy foods? He’s even inherited my hetrochromia.”

“What?”

“My eye anomaly. Didn’t know I could throw around those fancy words? Now where was I … oh, yes, Danny’s father.”

“He doesn’t matter.” Danny stiffened against his chair. “He didn’t want me anyway. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be here. You’re my family.”

“But you need to know your roots, your family medical history. Oh, I’ve been so worried about you all these years, but it was a closed adoption.” Candy’s southern twang tightened. “I never knew where you were. I hope your parents were good to you. Loved you like I would have.”

Why didn’t he tell her the adoption never went through? That he spent his life in foster care searching for his parents?

The Indian waiter set the food and an extra glass of water on the table. Danny dug right in, his face turning bright red with the first bite.

“Oh dear, are you sure you should be eating that spicy food? It’s not good for your cholesterol.”

“I’m twenty-one,” he said with a mouthful. “How bad can my cholesterol be?”

“Well, your father had a heart condition. He … died of a heart attack … at a young age.”

I choked on a spicy piece of lamb and guzzled some water. How would Danny react when he discovered Henderson was his father? That his father fathered his girlfriend’s aborted baby? I chugged some more water. Definitely soap opera material.

“Danny, Professor Henderson was your father.” Candy’s face turned crimson, and I doubted it was from the curry. “Mari, you don’t look surprised?”

“I’m not. I found some love letters in Henderson’s desk and guessed this afternoon you were C.S. I knew you’d tell me when and if you were ready.”

“My, who would have thought he kept those letters all these years.” She smiled at Danny. “Maybe he kept them as a reminder of his son. See, Danny, your father did care for you.”

Danny didn’t look up as he tore off a piece of bread.

I, on the other hand, didn’t have much of an appetite, which shocked me as much as Henderson and Candy’s affair. “How could you work with the man all these years?”

“I had nowhere else to go. Then I met George and found my faith. That’s when I was able to forgive Theron. In fact, I stayed—thinking it my duty to pray for him all these years, hoping one day he’d change his ways. Guess he never got the chance.” Candy shook her head and scooped a forkful of rice.

Danny’s mismatched eyes, now camouflaged with contacts, were distant. Something definitely smoldered inside his head. Could Cherilyn have told him about her and his father? I guess the news that your mother and girlfriend both slept with the same man could creep out any testosterone-blooded American boy.

He shoveled his food in faster and glanced at his watch.

“Danny, dear, slow down. If you eat too fast you could get indigestion.”

It was fun watching Candy suddenly turn maternal. She and George never had children of their own.

Danny looked up, eyes smiling. “It’s been a dream come true finding you and officially meeting you as my mother, but I’m glad I never got to know my father.” He placed his napkin in his rice speckled plate.

“Do you plan on attending the funeral?” I asked. “Now that you know he’s your father?”

“I have plans with Cherilyn. I’m taking her to Romano’s.”

Candy’s eyes grew round. “After you’ve eaten all this food.” She let out a hearty chuckle. “My boy has my appetite as well.”

When we’d finished eating, Danny collected the bill and escorted his mother to her car. Then he walked me to mine.

I popped a mint into my mouth and offered Danny one. “I know this must be a shock, learning who your father is this way. I know you’re probably angry at him for not wanting you, but I think you might consider paying your respects.”

“I have no respect for the man. The way he treated my mom and who knows how many other girls on campus. I’m not deaf. I know what went on in my father’s bedroom.”

I saw the pain in his eyes and wanted to comfort him, but I felt helpless. “I took your advice.”

“What?”

“The other day you talked about forgiveness. How you forgave Cherilyn for aborting her baby. I took your advice and forgave myself.”

His mouth hung open. “You had an abortion?”

“No, but I did have an unplanned pregnancy and thought about it. I was holding on to so much guilt for all the lousy decisions I made. But today, I finally forgave myself, and the father of my baby. I even asked God’s forgiveness.”

“I know where this is going.” Danny crossed his arms. “I’m happy for you, but I can’t do it.”

I gazed into his wounded eyes. “Yes, you can. If I can do it, so can you.”

“No, I can’t forgive Theron Henderson. I’m glad I never got to know him. If I had, I might have plucked his pacemaker from his chest and saved his murderer the trouble.” Danny opened the car door for me. “Mrs. D., I’m not sorry that he’s dead. As far as I’m concerned, he never existed.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

5:47 p.m.

WITH TREMBLING HANDS I gripped the wheel as I traveled an all-too-familiar road. Shudders crept up my arms, my tires chomping the loose asphalt like a ravenous beast, threatening to wake the eternal residents from their slumber. I flipped on my brights, hoping to scare away the shadows, but they lingered, haunting me. It wasn’t too late to turn around. But my hands wouldn’t budge. Instead, I looked straight ahead, the interrogation of my thunderous heart begging for understanding. Why had I returned to Memorial Groves Cemetery after dark?

I had no logical answer. Just a hunch that there was more clues to find surrounding Henderson’s death, and the truth lay with the pacemaker. In the distance, a flickering light shone from the basement of the colossal Columbarium. Maybe I didn’t have to go in. I found my phone and dialed.

“Detective Lopez, it’s Mari.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you remember if Brian Farlow’s autopsy report mentioned anything about Henderson having a pacemaker?”