The Beautiful Daughters (12 page)

Footsteps.

She would have gasped, but her throat was cinched tight, and before she could even contemplate running, his hand was on her arm.

“Did I scare you?” David had caught her just above the elbow. His mouth was against her ear, his breath warm and sour-sweet with Scotch.

Adri spun and slapped him on the chest. “Don't do that!” She would have hit him again, but he was still hanging on to her arm through the blanket she had wrapped around herself. It was slipping off her shoulder and David lifted a thumb to graze the place where the creamy fabric of her blouse peeked from beneath the quilt. They were so close she had to lift her chin to look him in the eye, but there was something intimate about his body above her and she took a step back.

“What'd you do that for?” Adri asked, mildly breathless, though she couldn't tell if it was from the shock of David's appearance or his confusing proximity.

He grinned in the darkness and she could see the gleam of his perfectly straight teeth. “I followed you,” he said simply. “I saw you creeping away from the party.”

“I did not creep. And it's not really a party.”

“Not a good one, anyway.”

“Hey, party foul.” Adri couldn't stop herself from sticking up for her best friend, even if she was the one who had left in the first place. And claimed it wasn't really a party. “Harper throws lovely parties.”

“Did you just say that?” David's laugh was rich and genuine. It was one of the things Adri secretly adored about him. “Lovely parties? You sound like you belong in the Hamptons.”

“Do I?”

“You're a regular Jackie O.”

“Shut up, David.” Adri's eyes had gotten used to the dark, at least somewhat, but it seemed strange to her that David didn't just flick the switch. He certainly knew where it was. But maybe he didn't want to draw the attention of the stargazers in the tower.

“Why'd you leave?” David asked after a few breaths.

“I'm kind of over it,” she said. David nodded as if he understood completely. But she pressed on all the same. “We're seniors, you know? Aren't we . . . past this?”

“Some of us are.”

“You, too?” Adri joked. But David was serious. “I thought you loved this stuff.”

“Harper loves this stuff.”

“And we love Harper,” Adri finished.

“Of course we do.”

It was a pinprick, nothing more. The nick of a tiny thorn. Adri had long suspected that David and Harper would one day, when they could stop being part of The Five, be simply The Two. She would be the maid of honor at their wedding and she would cry tears of joy. And just a couple for herself. There was an unwritten rule that they were not supposed to fall in love with each other. But how could they not? Everyone knew that the best kind of love was born of friendship.

“Why aren't you up there?” Adri said, turning David's question on its head. She nodded in the direction of the tower and Harper. There was a certain sad fondness in the asking, but she had come to terms with the inevitable. She almost told him that she knew, and that it was okay. Almost.

But he said something so unexpected, Adri didn't know how to respond.

“I'd rather be here with you.”

The silence this time was laced with words unspoken, and questions hung like spirits in the air. Adri tried to blow off David's comment, but it hit too close to the heart of what she wanted. Hope made her tremble.

“Come on, Adri.” David moved close to her, and when he reached for her this time his touch was entirely different. He was tentative, as if he expected Adri to slap his hand away. Or laugh and break the sudden spell that had been cast in the darkness of the stable. For there seemed to be magic in the air.

Adri wasn't used to this kind of whimsy. She was a practical girl. And David, though rich and spoiled and perpetually nonchalant, was a practical man. He was very matter-of-fact about his life and the privileges it afforded, and he had no problem admitting that his college degree was nothing more
than a formality, a piece of paper that would serve as his ticket into the world of his father's company—a seat that had, technically speaking, been his since the moment he was born. In his personal life he was sensible and composed, able to take up and set aside the mantle of a playboy as easily as donning a coat. To laugh and joke and drink until his imposing mother slipped into the room, a quiet and watchful revenant whose presence instantly sobered and reined in her son.

But this. This hesitancy. This softness. This bewitching veil of darkness between them. Adri didn't recognize this man. But she wanted to.

“It's you,” David said quietly. A confession. An almost guilty plea for her to understand. To not turn him away. He bent his head over her, his cheek just grazing the top of her head. “Adri, it's always been you.”

Adri felt herself brim, and the fullness of every quiet wish and hidden dream overflowed. Then she found herself pressing up and into David, swept along by something she could not restrain. He was there. Warm and alive and more than she had hoped for. He slid his hands beneath the blanket and pulled her closer still, only fabric between them. Adri didn't stop to wonder how this could possibly work. How he could mean what he said and how they would forge ahead in a world that would wonder how they had fallen together at all. She just fell, and David caught her in his arms and held her against him as if this was what he had intended all along.

When he kissed her, she knew that she would give up everything for him. Her dreams of a life beyond. The perfection of The Five. Harper. And when his mouth found the hollow at the base of her neck, the place where her heart beat fast and uneven, she swore to herself that nothing else mattered. Just this night. This man.

But even then, it wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere close to enough.

10

S
am talked adri into going to church with him on sunday.

It was a ritual she hadn't participated in since she was a child, and she dressed for the occasion as if she was getting ready for a wedding. Her closet was full of churchy fare, but it took her three tries to find the right dress, and she hoped that the jewel-green sheath she settled on wasn't horribly out of date. Adri had never been very chic, but after years in Africa, her sense of fashion was downright nonexistent. Fortunately, she was somewhat more adept with a mascara wand and eyeliner pencil, and her hair had always been wavy and as multidimensional as a calico cat's.

“Well, aren't you just a vision,” Sam said when Adri stepped into the kitchen. She smoothed her hair almost shyly—she wasn't used to wearing it down—but Sam wasn't done complimenting her yet. “You look just like your mother.”

They didn't talk about Georgia often, because even twenty-some years later, Sam went misty-eyed at the thought of his wife. She had become an angel of sorts, a memory that had somehow taken on every wish and longing that the three remaining Vogts could conjure up. She was their own personal dreamcatcher, and whether or not their carefully chosen mementos of her could be trusted didn't seem to matter anymore. Georgia Vogt was, and always would be, the definition of perfection.

But Adri didn't like being compared to her mother. Not anymore. “Thanks, Dad,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

“The boys are coming with us this morning.” Sam poured Adri a cup of coffee, seemingly oblivious to her tarnished mood. “We'll pick them up on the way. Nora decided to spend a few more days in Minnesota.”

“I think we'd better take two cars,” Adri said after a few moments. “I know Saturday seems like a long time away, but the memorial will be here before we know it and I've got lots to do.” It wasn't exactly a lie.

“We'll come with you,” Sam said. “I was planning on helping you out today. At least, when I can. I have to milk this afternoon, of course. But I know the boys would like to stick around and do what they can.”

“Sure,” Adri said, trying to think of a way to politely refuse her father's help. The truth was, there really wasn't much to do on the estate, and Adri was hoping to do a bit of exploring on her own. She had already wandered through most of the rooms in the mansion, but she had avoided Victoria's quarters as if they were quarantined. It felt wrong somehow to nose around in the late Mrs. Galloway's rooms. But a bout of insomnia had convinced Adri that nosing around was exactly what Victoria knew she would do. She had to. The estate belonged to her, after all.

And if she knocked off Victoria's rooms, she could avoid going in David's a little longer. She hadn't stepped foot in the garden basement yet, because she couldn't bring herself to confront the memories of all that had happened there. The love and the hope, but the hurt and the loss, too. The way that she had spent most of her life longing for something that didn't exist and never had. Just the thought of opening his door and confronting the ghosts that lingered there was enough to make Adri's heart feel as if it had been dipped in ice water.

“Thanks,” Adri said. “But really, I'll be fine. I don't want to interfere with your Sunday afternoon.”

Sam laughed. “What do you think I do? Nap? Don't be ridiculous. I'd love to help you. There's nothing I'd like more.”

There was no way out of it. Minutes later, Adri climbed dutifully into the front seat of Betty—they couldn't take her dad's truck, there would be no room for the boys—and tried to appreciate the exquisite fall day as her dad drove to Will's house. Apparently Jackson and Nora lived a few streets down, and Jackson was going to walk over and meet them there. Adri hadn't yet seen her brother's home, and she was pleasantly surprised when her father drove through a new development on the south side of Blackhawk and pulled up to a beautiful Craftsman that had wide front pillars and lots of rugged stonework.

“It's gorgeous!” she exclaimed, and would have asked for a tour, but Will and Jackson were already on their way out the front door. Instead, when Will slid into the back, she draped her arm over the seat and said, “Nice work, brother. You make a good-looking house.”

“It's well built, too,” he said, and though he gave her an “I-told-you-so” wink, there was real pride in his voice.

“Will designed it,” Jackson said, slamming the door on the opposite side. “I'm the numbers and details guy. Will is the creative genius.”

“Genius,” Adri scoffed. “Not sure that's what I'd call it.”

The banter felt good, but when they pulled into the parking lot of the church, Adri found herself at a complete loss for words. She was convinced that there was a whole lot of condemnation here, and a bunch of people who knew the girl she had been—not the woman she was. She didn't know how to reconcile the two, or how to face the people who would undoubtedly hate her if they knew the role she had played in the demise of the Galloway family. The Galloways were not exactly beloved in Blackhawk, but they were an integral part of the community, and people were fiercely loyal—even if they weren't exactly affectionate.

In less than a week, these same people would flood the estate, invited by tradition. When someone died in Blackhawk, the community showed up en masse, carrying casseroles and waxy-leafed houseplants, condolences like sweet candy they could dole out as comfort. After Liam passed there had been no such public send-off, but Victoria's wishes had been express: she wanted an open memorial. And Adri had no doubt that the entire town would attend.

“Dad,” she whispered as everyone else was piling out of the car. “I don't think I can do this.”

He was tucking the car keys into his pocket, though most people in Blackhawk simply left them in the ignition. “What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“I really don't want to see a bunch of people. Not right now.”

“We'll sneak in the back.”

“Dad.” Adri gave him a knowing look. Everyone loved her father. It was hard for Sam to go anywhere in Blackhawk without pausing for a lengthy conversation with nearly everyone he met.

“I promise.” He lifted his hand in a three-fingered salute. “Scout's honor.”

Adri resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but when her dad pulled out the salute, there was simply no arguing. He meant what he said and he said what he meant, and Adri followed him into church like a reluctant puppy.

Every face in the foyer was familiar. A few people stared, their attention a mix of curiosity and greeting, but only one person took the time to address her. It was a poised, older woman with a thin but genuine smile, and though Adri tried to place her, she couldn't.

“Welcome home,” the lady said, patting Adri's arm. “We've missed you.”

“Thank you.” Adri nodded, because she didn't know what else to say.

The rest of the service went off without a hitch, and Sam kept his promise by escorting his entire entourage out before
the postlude. Sam wore a satisfied half-grin that exposed his delight at having both of his children with him on a fine Sunday morning. Adri took comfort in knowing she had performed her daughterly duty.

They picked up a paper bag full of carne asada tacos, hot, homemade tortilla chips, and fresh salsa from a motor home that had been converted into a portable restaurant and parked beside the Kum & Go. It hadn't been around the last time Adri was home, but Will assured her that Paco's made the best tacos, even if the name was a bit of a joke.

“The guy who owns it is Ernesto, but Ernesto's Tacos doesn't have quite the same ring to it.”

Instead of going back to Maple Acres, Sam drove straight to the Galloway mansion so they could eat poolside. It was a gorgeous day. So pretty, in fact, that Adri seriously contemplated a swim. The free-form pool was hardly comparable to the ocean she was used to, but she missed the sensation of water against her skin, the weightless floating that always made her feel as if she was a natural part of the world around her, nothing more, nothing less.

But by the time they had decimated the bag of chips and Jackson had scooped the last bit of salsa out of the plastic tub, Adri wasn't thinking about church or swimming or even the expectations of the men who surrounded her. She felt unmoored and edgy about the entire morning. Something about the older woman in the church fellowship hall felt distinctly off to her, and it nibbled at the back of her mind like a worried mouse.

“Who was she?” Adri finally asked as they cleaned up their tinfoil taco wrappers and swept crumbs and bits of cilantro from the little round end tables beside the lounge chairs.

“Who was who?” Sam wasn't really paying attention, and Adri was glad her question hadn't piqued his interest. He didn't even look at her; he merely kept collecting remnants of garbage.

“That lady in church. The one who spoke to me before the service.”

Sam straightened up and looked confused for a minute. Adri thought it was because he was trying to remember, but it became apparent that he was bewildered for a different reason entirely. “You don't remember her?”

“Should I?”

“Adrienne, that was Katherine Holt.”

“Katherine?” Adri was dazed. The last time she had seen Katherine Holt was at David's funeral. She had been weeping softly, bent almost protectively over Victoria, who sat in the front pew of church, seemingly carved from stone. In a way, they had both mothered David. Adri had sat on Victoria's other side, though there was a space between them that could never be bridged. It had been torture for Adri to sit there at all, inhabiting a place that she did not want or deserve.

“She has Hodgkin's lymphoma,” Sam said. “She finished up chemo this summer and is undergoing radiation.”

That explained the silver pixie cut and the willow whip of her tiny waist. The Katherine Adri had known had been more substantial somehow. Made of more than breath and bones.

Katherine was a brilliant woman, an old maid if one chose to refer to her in such an antiquated way, who dedicated her life to tutoring some of the most elite students in the country. She had spent her younger years crisscrossing the map, going where the pay was good and the children worthy of her time and attention. When she took David on, she was nearing retirement and ready to settle down. She ended up falling in love with both her student and Blackhawk, and she never bothered to leave.

Katherine was also the closest thing to a friend Victoria ever had. At least, as far as Adri could tell. When The Five started hanging out at the estate, the only visitor that Victoria ever received was Katherine. It was obvious that even though she was no longer tutoring David, she had a special place in both their hearts and their home.

“She was with Victoria all the way up until the end,” Will
said, joining the conversation even though he was deadheading geraniums halfway around the pool. “You rarely saw one without the other.”

“Katherine wasn't mentioned in the will?” She made it a question, even though she knew the answer full well.

“I guess there was no reason to leave anything to her. Victoria took good care of Katherine for years. And in the end Katherine took care of Victoria. I'm sure they settled their own debts. Made their own peace.”

“I was rude to her,” Adri said quietly, fumbling for something, anything to say.

Sam made a dismissive noise. “No, you weren't. You were perfectly nice. Besides, the service had already started. Everyone was hurrying to their seats.”

“I would like to talk to her.” Adri realized she was standing stock-still, wrappers and used napkins crushed in her hands. She tried to smile. “It's been a long time. It would be nice to catch up.”

“You've got time for a meeting with Katherine? I thought you were busy. I thought you were rushing back.”

Adri was busy and she did want to rush back. But Victoria had created a sinkhole for her, a place where she had fallen and was now being continually sucked in by guilt and memories and the conviction that she had failed in many ways. It made her sick to her stomach, but there were certain things that could not be left undone. Not this time. Not if she ever hoped to escape.

They worked for the rest of the afternoon, attending to forgotten details around the estate. Everything looked clean and tidy on the surface, but it was such a huge house, and it had sat all but empty for so long, that there were hidden issues everywhere. All they had to do was look.

Jackson and Will found a suspicious stain on the exterior wall of the pool house, and discovered upon closer inspection that there was some water damage from a small hole in the roof. It
looked as if an animal had bored its way inside; the opening was perfectly dark and circular like a tunnel. But it was more likely that a branch had fallen just so, or maybe an extraordinarily large hailstone gouged the unusual gap during that destructive thunderstorm in July. Either way, it was a problem they could solve, and while Jackson went to get their work trailer, Will found a stepladder and climbed onto the roof to start ripping off damaged shingles.