A Deadly Row (20 page)

He picked up on the first ring. Instead of a normal greeting, he asked, “Savannah?”

“It’s me,” I said. “I’m sorry. I should have called you when I got back. I just got wrapped up in a few things here.”

“Nonsense, I know you’re too old to check in. I just had a bad feeling about you, so I wanted to talk to you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re having premonitions,” I said.

“No, it’s nothing like that, but I dumped that box on you, and then I felt guilty about it. I’m not sure what your mother was thinking. I’m not a big fan of messages from beyond the grave.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing like that.”

“You haven’t opened it yet?”

“No,” I said as I looked at it, still sitting in its place on the coffee table. “I was planning to wait for Zach, and he’s going to be tied up most of the night.”

“We should have opened it together. Knowing Astrid, it’s hard to tell what she put in there.”

“Are there any family skeletons she could be telling me about?” I was honestly intrigued by the idea, but that didn’t mean I wanted to find out anything bad about my kinfolk. The South was long known for burying its secrets instead of exposing them to the light of day, but sooner or later, they almost always came out.

“Not that I know of. The oddest thing that ever happened to us was Jeffrey taking off like he did.”

“You never heard from him, did you?”

“No, but to be honest with you, I never expected to. We fought all of the time growing up, and your mom usually took his side. Looking back now, I can’t remember anything significant we ever argued about. Our personalities just didn’t mesh. I never really missed him, but I’m sure your mother did. I wonder.”

“What?”

He paused, and then said, “I can’t help speculating if Astrid knew where he was all along. No, that’s nonsense. She would have told someone. I’m sure that box is nothing more than old photographs and keepsakes she wanted you to have. I don’t have to tell you how sentimental your mother was.”

I had boxes in storage at home with third grade book reports and macaroni artwork, so I didn’t need a reminder. “No, I’ve got all the proof of that I ever needed.”

“She had a real fascination with things, didn’t she?”

“I think it was more about the memories they evoked,” I said, surprising myself with the answer. The way Barton Lane had held that paperback had struck a chord with me, and I could remember my mom doing the same thing with the Christmas ornaments my grandmother had made for her.

“You’re right. I never really put that together. You’ve grown into quite a woman, you know that, don’t you?”

“Sometimes I wonder,” I said.

“Well, you can stop. I’m proud of you, Savannah. I never told you that enough growing up, but I mean to do it now.”

“I’m proud of you, too,” I said.

That elicited a laugh. “And why is that?”

“You’ve endured more than your share of hardships over the years, and yet you haven’t let any of it beat you down.”

“Losing my Celia almost killed me,” he admitted.

“But you pulled yourself through.”

“With the help of family and friends and the Good Lord above.” He paused, and then said, “I’ll let you go, but thanks for calling me. I love you, Savannah.”

“I love you, too, Uncle Thomas.”

After we hung up, I nearly forgot about my other message. I hit the play button again, and was happy to hear Zach’s voice.

“I don’t care what time it is when you get this, or what you think I might be doing. Call me. I miss you, if you can believe that. I know it’s just been a handful of hours since we saw each other, but what can I say? I’m kind of used to having you around.”

I hit the save button on the phone so I could replay that sweet message whenever I wanted to. I’d been reticent to call him before, but with his blessing, I couldn’t dial my husband’s telephone number fast enough.

“Can you talk?” I asked after he grunted his name.

“Savannah. Hey, how are you?”

“I’m well. Are you at a stopping place?”

“Sure,” he said with a sigh. “That’s as nice a way as any to say I’ve hit a dead end.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Trust me, it’s not you. I keep pounding my head against the wall, but all I’m getting is banged up and bruised.”

“Then maybe you should stop doing that,” I said with a laugh.

“Could be. How did the meeting with Barton Lane go?”

“We had dinner together after I gave him what I’d found in Cindy’s apartment, except for the skiing photograph, of course. You’re not jealous, are you?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“What did you have? I’m starving.”

I laughed at his response. “You should order a sandwich.”

“Yeah, I probably should before I collapse from hunger. Thinking’s hard work. Hang on.” After a minute, he got back on. “I sent Joe out. He’s a nice enough guy, but he’s not Steve.”

“Any idea when your helper will be back?”

“He’s supposed to pick me up tomorrow morning at the hotel, but we’ll see. You know I was just teasing you about the food. I trust you with my heart and my life, Savannah.” There was another pause, and then he asked, “Nothing happened, did it?”

“Of course it didn’t. He made me pancakes.”

“You mean he ordered them from room service,” Zach said.

“No, he mixed up the batter and cooked them for me himself.”

“Okay, now I’m jealous. It’s one thing to order room service, but I can’t imagine him waiting on you.”

That was better. It was good to hear a twinge in his voice, regardless of how much I loved him.

“Relax, he’s old enough to be my father.”

“It’s not like that hasn’t happened before with rich, older men.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Zachary Stone, I’m many things, but a trophy wife candidate is surely not among them.”

“I don’t know about that. I think you’re a prize,” he said.

“Right back at you. Have you had any luck so far?”

The frustration in his voice was clear as he said, “Not that you could tell. We know these murders are connected, but other than through Grady, I can’t find a single common denominator between them. There has to be something else tying her to Hank Tristan’s life. Grady might know of something, but we can’t ask him, can we?”

“He’s AWOL at the worst possible time, isn’t he?”

“That’s right, I didn’t tell you. I found him. He says he had to get away from things, so he spent the day hiking on the parkway.” The Blue Ridge Parkway was a couple of hours away, and I knew Grady liked to hike, especially the loop trail around Price Lake. It was secluded up there, and Zach and I had joined him a few times in the past.

“Is he being any nicer to you than he was before?”

“He’s settled down some. He told me he’s had some time to cool off, so we’re getting together for breakfast. Sorry, but I’m going to have to bail out on you tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. I’m eating with Lorna, remember? Should we make it a double date?”

“I don’t think so. Their breakup wasn’t all that friendly, was it?”

“Lorna seems to be completely over it,” I said. “But maybe you should tackle his honor by yourself.”

“I was just thinking the same thing. Could we at least have lunch together? I miss you, Savannah.”

“It’s a date,” I said.

I heard a commotion on the other end of the line. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s nothing. Joe just got back with our sandwiches.”

“That was fast.”

“He went across the street, and I doubt they’re very busy this time of night. It’s not pancakes fresh off the griddle, but it will have to do.”

“You don’t mind, do you? Really.”

“No, but you can’t blame me for wishing it was me making pancakes for you instead of a man I haven’t met.”

“We’ll have to fix that then, won’t we? Do you have any idea when you’ll be back here?”

“Not a clue. I might have to stay all night.”

“Do whatever you have to,” I said. “Your work is important.”

“Thanks, Savannah.”

I thought of something. “Zach, did you run across a woman named Samantha in your reading?”

He paused, and then said, “The name’s familiar, but I can’t remember where I read it.”

“Could it have been in Cindy’s address book?”

“How did you know that? That’s exactly where it was.” I could hear him leafing through something.

I read her address to him off the information I’d been given in Barton’s apartment.

“That’s it. Do you want to tell me how you know about her?”

“Barton said she was Cindy’s closest friend. He believes that if Cindy was seeing anyone, Samantha would know about it.”

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Is there any chance I could go with you?”

“Why?”

“Maybe she’ll be more likely to disclose facts about Cindy’s love life if there’s another woman there.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe I’m right, or maybe I can go?”

“Maybe both,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

After we hung up, I got out a pad and pencil and moved to the couch. I thought it might not be a bad idea to get a jump on tomorrow’s puzzle. Besides, I was too wired up from everything that had happened to get to sleep, and late night television usually bored me to tears.

After half an hour, I gave up. I believed that I woke up brilliant, and got duller with each passing moment. My puzzle would have to wait until morning.

There was something I’d put off, but I couldn’t postpone it anymore.

It was time to open the box Uncle Thomas had given me from my mother. It would have been nice to have Zach there with me, but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, and I had to face it tonight, or I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink.

I retrieved the box, moved to a seat by the windows, and, after I took one last deep breath, I opened it.

MY HANDS WERE SHAKING AS I PULLED OUT THE FIRST
item from the box my mother had left for me. It was a photograph, and I recognized my mother and father immediately, though they’d been teenagers when it had been taken. My mother was wearing blue jeans and an old flannel shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail of ash blonde hair, while my father was wearing gym shorts and an old T-shirt. His hair was long, nearly touching his shoulders. It wasn’t the man I’d known growing up. Whenever his hair touched the tops of his ears, it was time for a haircut. In the photo, he had a cocky arrogance to his stance that showed me a little bit why my mother had fallen for him.

The next photograph was older still. It showed two young boys and a little girl sitting around a campfire. My grandfather was behind them, the gleam in his eye apparent even across the years. When I studied the photograph closer, I saw that it was my mother’s family. Uncle Thomas was there, and eating a roasted marshmallow was my other uncle, Jeffrey. There was something about Jeffrey that looked familiar, but I couldn’t see all of his face in the poor light of the fire. From what I could make out, his resemblance was stronger to my grandmother, who sat quietly beside him. Uncle Thomas and Mom were more like their father. I kept staring at my unknown uncle, wondering where he was right now, or even if he was still alive.

Setting it aside for a moment, I removed the next item. It was a heart-shaped locket, and I wondered if my mother had received it from my dad. It took a few seconds to get the locket open, and I was surprised to find another man’s picture inside, clearly not my dad. Why had she kept it all those years, and more importantly, why was she handing it down to me? He didn’t look at all familiar, and I didn’t have a clue how I might find out who he was. And then I realized that I’d just spent the day with my best chance of knowing. I’d have to go back and see Uncle Thomas to ask him if the man looked familiar to him. If he didn’t know, I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to find out.

After the photographs, there was a stack of letters, all neatly tied together with a faded red ribbon. I opened the first one, and saw that it was a love letter from my father to my mother. It just took a few sentences for me to feel like some kind of voyeur, even though Mom had supplied them to me herself. I folded the letter back up and slipped it into its envelope. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever read them, but somehow, it felt good possessing a piece of my past before I even existed.

Beneath the letters, I was getting to the bottom of the box. I wasn’t sure what I’d find, but a safety deposit box key was the last thing I imagined.

Even more startling was the note that it was taped to.