Authors: Ellery Adams
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Fiction
Olivia fought to contain her indignation. “She couldn’t have you, so she took the
closest thing. And your brother accepted her even though she was probably carrying
your baby. He was more honorable than you could ever hope to be, high school dropout
or not.” Olivia’s voice was cold and hostile. “My mother tried to protect me from
having to grow up a fatherless bastard. She couldn’t have predicted that Willie could
barely look at me, that he saw his brother’s child every time I walked into the room.
She couldn’t have known that none of us would ever be happy.”
Charles Wade rubbed his chin nervously. “I’m sorry. I had no idea she was pregnant,
and the last time I saw my brother, he told me never to step foot in Oyster Bay again—that
I wasn’t wanted here anymore. Believe me, I was glad to leave it all behind. I didn’t
even come back when my parents died.” He looked at Olivia plaintively. “Listen, I
love my wife. We have a good life together. I loved your mother too, but . . .” He
threw out his hands. “What can I do to make you see that I’m not a bad guy? How can
I make amends?”
Narrowing her eyes, Olivia leaned over and said, “You can keep your promise. Leave
this town and never come back.”
Startled, Charles reached for her hand. “But you’re my daughter, aren’t you?”
Olivia drew away as if his touch would burn her skin. “Biologically? Maybe. Maybe
not. In any case, I had a father. His name was Willie Wade. Now I see that he loved
a woman who was in love with his own brother and that he raised a kid who probably
wasn’t his. Over time, his decision to marry my mother turned him into a mean and
bitter man, but he stuck it out as long as he was able. And then, just like you, he
took off to lead a different life. A better life.”
She pushed her bowl of grits away, no longer interested in eating, and stood up. “I
don’t know you, Mr. Wade, nor do I care to. Have a safe trip back to New York.”
And with that, she left the diner.
Though she was eager to get home, she had no way of getting there, so she headed for
the police station, hoping against hope that Rawlings wasn’t still in Havelock. Her
thoughts were in turmoil and the bruised spot on her head was starting to throb again.
She sat down on a park bench and dialed Rawlings’ cell phone number. He answered right
away.
“Where are you?” he asked. She told him and he sighed in exasperation. “You had Laurel
drop you at Grumpy’s? You couldn’t just make instant grits at your house? Stay where
you are. Haviland and I are minutes away.” His voice was leaden with fatigue. “It’s
been a very long night.”
“Let’s go home,” she said. “And you can tell me all about it.”
* * *
As displeased with her as he was, Rawlings had driven Olivia home, showered, and told
her everything that had happened since their parting in the ambulance the previous
night.
Millay’s idea to show Judson photographs of Talley and Willis living out a carefree
childhood in his former house had been a success. The images of Talley hanging from
a tire swing, her mouth stretched into a huge smile, or of Natalie and Willis planting
a vegetable garden in the backyard had sent Judson into a self-righteous rage. Incensed,
he’d grabbed for the photos and ripped them to shreds, screaming out his confession.
He’d vandalized the Locklears’ cars, stolen inhalants from the animal clinic, committed
two counts of murder and one count of attempted murder. By the end, he was howling
and spitting like a wounded animal.
“I’m relieved, but bone weary, Olivia,” Rawlings had said, stretching out on the bed
and closing his eyes. “The photographs Millay took told us a terrible story. There
were so many lines, so many marks in the stone. That poor child.”
Olivia had curled up next to him and covered his hand with hers. “The things people
do to each other, to those they supposedly love, can be truly unforgivable.” She hadn’t
been thinking of just Judson’s parents, but of the twin brothers, Charles and Willie
Wade; of two betrayed woman named Camille Limoges and Munin Cooper; of all the times
she had stood on the beach and looked out to sea, silently wishing for her loneliness
to abate and for the agony of being unloved to be washed away by the next wave.
She’d been about to tell Rawlings that people could save each other too, but his breathing
had slowed, the air escaping through his slack lips in the steady cadence of sleep.
* * *
Olivia had taken Haviland and driven back into town. She’d freed the safety deposit
key from the pottery shard and, after a short meeting with the bank manager, was led
to a safety deposit box that had been rented by Olivia’s mother over forty years ago.
“She purchased one of our hundred-year leases,” the manager had explained. “I wasn’t
here then, but according to my records, no one has requested access to the box since
Ms. Camille first opened it.”
Thanking the manager, Olivia had entered the vault, removed the safety deposit box,
and stepped into one of the tiny, private rooms in order to examine the contents.
Her hands were trembling as she fit the key into the lock. What did she expect to
find? Her mother had been disowned by Olivia’s grandmother the moment she’d exchanged
vows with Willie Wade, so Olivia doubted the box contained anything of value. What
if another earth-shattering secret waited within?
“I can’t take any more of those,” Olivia had mumbled and opened the box.
Inside, she found a single piece of paper. Her birth certificate. And there, on the
line indicating “Name of Father,” was the name Charles Wade.
Olivia had removed the certificate, stuffed it into her purse, and left the room.
On her way out of the bank, she handed the manager the key. “You can rent it to someone
else now. It’s been emptied.”
Returning home, Olivia grabbed a box of matches from the kitchen and paused for a
long moment to stare at the woodcarving the man she’d known as her father had made
for her.
She then kicked off her shoes and hurried over the dunes, the salt-laden wind whipping
her hair around her face. While Haviland danced in the sea foam, she’d taken the birth
certificate from her pocket, struck a match, and set it on fire.
Now, she waded into the water, the only place where she and a man named Willie Wade
had always felt at home. The same could not be said about her biological father. He
hated everything about Oyster Bay while Olivia loved her town and the people in it
with all of her heart.
The paper burned until it was nothing but a scattering of ashes. Olivia watched as
the ocean pulled the pieces, and her secret, into the deep.
Chapter 20
To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or
the sharp stones on life’s path.
—K
HALIL
G
IBRAN
T
hat following Friday, the Bayside Book Writers got together for an impromptu end-of-summer
celebration at The Bayside Crab House. The men wore Hawaiian shirts in bold prints
and the women wore flirty sundresses and strappy sandals. The hostess led them to
a table on the deck laden with appetizers and pitchers of pomegranate margaritas.
“I noticed that the ‘For Lease’ sign is missing from the storefront around the corner,”
Laurel said as she and Olivia took their seats. “Does that mean Shelley Giusti is
moving in?”
“It does. She plans to have her desserterie open by Christmas.” Olivia offered Haviland
a piece of shrimp. “Michel is beside himself with glee.”
Laurel rubbed her hands together. “Me too. An entire shop filled with chocolate? There
goes my paycheck. And my waistline.”
Millay poured herself a margarita and lifted the glass in the air. “I’d rather drink
my calories.”
Olivia smiled at her friend. Millay was beginning to unwind and behave more like her
old self. Olivia knew that the Locklear case had brought some of Millay’s most painful
memories—the ones she’d hoped to bury forever—to the surface. She’d had to meet those
memories head-on and she’d done so with boldness and courage. Now that Judson was
in custody and Talley was being looked after by Annette Stevens, Millay could begin
to let go of things from her own past that had haunted her for too long.
Harris broke into Olivia’s reverie by describing the children’s cooking game he was
designing. “I’m starting with food they don’t actually have to cook, like putting
peanut butter and raisins on a piece of celery. Totally healthy stuff.”
“Ants on a log,” Laurel said. “My boys love that snack.”
Rawlings pretended to be confused. “Your kids eat ants?”
They all laughed. Olivia sipped her margarita and gazed around the spacious deck.
The overhead trellis was festooned with colorful paper lanterns and nautical flags.
Potted plants wound with white lights separated the tables, and the ocean breeze stirred
the centerpieces made of red carnations and pinwheels. Soon, the band would arrive
and country western music would encourage the crowd to become a little louder and
a little rowdier. But that was okay with everyone. It was a Friday night after all.
“I told Steve he’d probably have to come get me,” Laurel said, handing her glass to
Millay for a refill. “I always get tipsy after one of our adventures.”
“It’s the relief,” Rawlings explained. “Cops feel this way all the time. When you’ve
been on someone’s trail, especially someone as clever and evasive as Judson Ware,
you put all your energy into tracking that person down. Once they’re finally caught,
you’re utterly drained, but you also want to seize hold of everything that makes you
feel alive.” He sent Olivia a warm glance. “You probably gave Steve and the boys some
extra TLC this week, didn’t you?”
Laurel grinned. “I sure did! I hugged and kissed them every chance I got and I also
ate a whole pint of cappuccino fudge swirl ice cream. I
never
eat the whole pint.”
“That’s what happens,” Rawlings said. “As a cop, you try to enjoy as much as you can
because it’s only a matter of time before you catch a new case. Until then, you live
large.”
Millay raised an eyebrow. “So what did you do, Chief? Buy two gallons of chocolate
milk instead of one?”
He balled up his napkin and tossed it at her. “I started a new painting, stuffed my
face with jumbo bags of sour cream and onion potato chips, and took long walks on
the beach with my favorite dog.” He ruffled the fur on the back of Haviland’s neck.
“What about you? You’ve obviously been motivated. Harris told me that you finished
your book. Edits and all.”
Though she shrugged as if it were no big deal, Millay couldn’t stop her mouth from
curving upward into a proud grin. “Yeah. I’m ready to tackle the dreaded query letter.”
This announcement drew a round of applause from her friends. They clinked glasses
and toasted Millay, and while she tried to pretend she didn’t enjoy the attention,
her eyes were alight with pleasure.
“You’re falling behind on your word count, Chief,” she teased Rawlings. “You’d better
make some progress on your novel.”
Rawlings waved off the suggestion. “That’s not going happen anytime soon. Sheriff
Poole and I have been dealing with a ton of paperwork. We’re still trying to tie up
a few loose ends.”
The chief’s statement clearly troubled Millay. “It’s nothing serious, right? Tell
me that bastard isn’t going to get off on some technicality.”
Rawlings’ tone lost all traces of levity. “No, he’s not. But we’ve had to gather all
kinds of statements. For example, when Munin bolted for the swamp, she didn’t just
abandon her son. She liquidated her assets and gave all the cash to a Mr. and Mrs.
Robert Oxendine. They’re the ones who raised Bo Locklear as their own. Called him
Bobby Oxendine until he came of age. When he turned eighteen, they handed him the
deed to the Dawson farm and told him his real name and that his parents were both
dead.”
“That must have been rough,” Harris said. “I get that Munin was trying to protect
her kid, but even after Judson’s dad was dead, she didn’t come back for him. She let
him believe his was an orphan.”
Olivia pictured Munin’s shack at the forest’s edge. “I think she knew that he’d found
his parents in the Oxendines. I also believe that Munin truly forgot how to be among
people. She’d scour the papers, keeping watch on the Lumbee from afar, but she couldn’t
go back. She’d become a wild thing. A seer. A witch.” She shook her head. “It’s really
sad, because Bo could have helped her heal if only she’d let him.”
“Instead, Judson found her,” Laurel said and then looked at Rawlings. “How?”
“From one of the Lumbee who drove out to the Croatan National Forest to scout out
the campground for the annual powwow,” Rawlings said. “He was a client of Fletcher’s.
Over a lunch meeting, he told Fletcher and Judson that he was pleased by the presence
of so many animal spirits in the forest. He also mentioned that a Lumbee medicine
woman lived nearby and felt that her proximity to the campground was a sign that the
tribe should hold the powwow where their ancestors had once lived.”
Harris groaned. “And Judson put the pieces together.”
Rawlings nodded. “He did his research first. A phone call to the art gallery selling
Munin’s pottery supplied him with a name. That’s all he needed to confirm his suspicions.”
“I don’t see why he went after her,” Olivia said. “She wasn’t a Locklear. She and
Calvin weren’t even married. And her life was already ruined.”
“I believe Judson wanted to punish her for making sure that his home would stay in
the Locklear family. She protected Bo and the deed, and now it all belongs to Talley.
He couldn’t forgive her for that.”
Millay raised a finger to stop him. “Actually, it belongs to the casino now. They’re
going to raze the house to the ground and that terrible stone wall in the basement
will be destroyed too.”
“And Munin’s going home,” Rawlings said quietly. “Talley wanted her grandmother to
be buried alongside her parents and Willis.”
Olivia’s throat tightened. “She finally has a family.”
The group fell silent. They watched the boats gently bobbing on their moorings. The
gulls and shorebirds soared over the horizon, vacating the docks and shoreline to
find shelter for the night as the first stars began to appear in the periwinkle sky.
“I thought this was a party!” came the voice of Olivia’s sister-in-law. “Oh, I see
what’s wrong. Your margarita pitchers are empty.” Kim grabbed a waitress and gestured
at their table with one arm while bouncing Anders with the other.
“Let me have that baby,” Laurel pleaded, holding out her arms. Kim acquiesced, but
the moment the transfer was made, Anders began to cry.
Another waitress jogged up to Kim and whispered something in her ear. Kim glanced
at a table at the far end of the deck and Olivia sensed that a dissatisfied customer
had asked to speak with the manager. “I’ve got Anders,” she told Kim with a smile.
“Go work your magic.”
Laurel passed the unhappy infant over to Olivia. She cupped her palm around the back
of his head and turned him to face her. She gazed into his dolphin gray eyes. “Hello,
handsome,” she whispered, planting a featherlight kiss on his forehead.
Anders stopped crying and returned her stare. He reached out a chubby hand and closed
it around a lock of her hair. He gurgled and drooled, his toothless mouth curving
into a cherub’s smile.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and stood up, holding the baby tighter in her arms.
She hadn’t told Hudson about her encounter with Charles and she knew it was time to
put the subject to rest. Her brother had been bringing up “the ghost” for the past
few days.
My brother,
she thought.
Not by blood. I know the truth and the truth doesn’t matter. We belong to each other.
She kissed Anders again.
We all belong to each other.
“Olivia!” Rawlings called out from behind her.
She stopped and turned, surprised to see that he’d followed her inside.
“I wanted to give this to you earlier but I haven’t had the chance.” He handed her
a small jewelry box.
She eyed the box nervously. “What is it?”
“Nothing scary,” he said with a secretive grin. “Just open it.”
Shifting Anders to her hip, Olivia popped the lid back and gasped. Resting on a square
of black velvet was her starfish necklace. “How . . . ?” She frowned, unable to hide
her displeasure. “I told you that I wanted Munin to have this.”
“She has yours,” Rawlings assured her gently. “This is the one from the memory jug.
It was your mother’s.” He removed the necklace from the box and turned the starfish
over. “Look. Her initials are engraved on the back. CL.” He undid the clasp and moved
behind Olivia, deftly fastening the necklace around her neck. “I had to get a new
chain. There was no way to get the other one out of the clay without it breaking,
but the pendant came free like it knew where it was going.”
Olivia felt the starfish settle in the hollow of her neck. She reached up to brush
it with her fingertips, too moved to speak.
“I know you always felt like your mother was near when you wore the necklace she’d
given you. Now you can feel that way again.” Holding her by the shoulders, he slowly
spun Olivia around to face him.
With the baby in between, Olivia leaned over and gave Rawlings a deep, lingering kiss.
She tried to infuse the kiss with all the love and gratitude welling up inside her,
sweeping over her like a great wave. “There’ll be more of that later,” she promised,
touching the starfish again.
“Then I’d better go load up on protein,” he said with a laugh and headed back to the
table.
Olivia watched him until he disappeared outside. Her heart felt like it was too large
to fit inside her chest. What had she done to deserve such a man?
Don’t ever let him go,
she told herself and walked into the kitchen.
Hudson was busy mincing garlic, but he heard the coo of his son over the hiss of steaming
pots and the chatter of the kitchen staff. He glanced up from his task and smiled
at Anders and Olivia.
She jerked her head in the direction of the side door and Hudson understood. Laying
the knife down, he rinsed his hands in the sink and dried them on his apron before
joining her.
“Hey, my man,” he said to his son, squeezing a rosy cheek. Anders squealed and wriggled
in Olivia’s arms. Hudson led Olivia outside to a narrow deck on the side of the building
where The Bayside Crab House employees took their breaks. Hudson waited for Olivia
to take a seat at the lone picnic table and then sat down across from her, smiling
widely for Anders’ benefit.
“I wanted to tell you that I found the guy who looked like our father,” she said without
further preamble. “I spoke with him.”
Hudson’s smile vanished. “Who is he?”
“Our father’s twin brother. His name is Charles. He was in the area for the food festival.
Apparently, he’s some bigwig from New York and his TV network sponsored the whole
thing.”
“Our dad had a twin? How come we’ve never heard of him before?” Hudson asked suspiciously.
“He and Willie never got along. And I can see why. The guy’s a jerk.”
This made Hudson laugh. “Sounds just like Dad.”
Olivia couldn’t help but grin. “True, but Willie Wade wasn’t arrogant. He knew who
he was and never tried to be anyone else. He was true to himself, for better or for
worse.”
Hudson took a moment to consider this. “But this Charles guy is our uncle, right?
Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, keep in touch?”
“I can look up his contact information for you,” Olivia said. “He’s married and has
kids, so we probably have cousins too. Personally, I don’t want anything to do with
him.”
“I guess I should want to meet this new family, but if we’re being honest here, I
don’t,” Hudson said. He sighed contentedly and looked up at the restaurant. “I have
this place, a wife, a daughter, and a son. I’ve got a sister now. And a few guys I
go fishing with every now and then. I don’t need an uncle or a bunch of cousins who
don’t know me from Adam. I’ve got everything I need right here.”
Olivia thought of her sister-in-law and niece, who were probably in the manager’s
office. Caitlyn was undoubtedly coloring in her sketchbook while her mother answered
the phone. Across from Olivia was the man she called brother. Her adorable nephew
was cradled in her arms. Around the corner of the building, her friends Millay, Laurel,
and Harris were waiting for her. The man she loved and her precious Haviland were
there too.
“I’ve got everything I need right here too,” Olivia said with a smile.