A Reluctant Companion (36 page)

Joan sighed. “I suppose it was in the back of her mind that he might be a spare, in case something happened to Tiernan. Child mortality is a lot higher than it used to be before The End, so it was conceivable he wouldn’t survive, even with the best medical care available.”

A shiver of disgust shot through her. “She was a piece of work.”

“Assuredly.” Joan blinked. “She threatened my family if I ever said a word, and I believed she would kill them without hesitation after seeing how she treated her own flesh and blood.”

Madison squeezed her hand. “At least she’s gone now.”

Joan nodded, squeezing in return.

“Would you mind waiting here? I want to go get Tiernan. He deserves to know what you’ve told me, and you can answer his questions better than I can.” Seeing Joan’s reluctance, she said, “He has a right to know his brother, if he can find him, and you have nothing to fear. Catherine Archer is dead, and Tiernan will have no reason to protect her secret.”

Finally, Joan nodded. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore anyway. My husband died years ago, and I lost both my children, and my only grandchild, in a cholera outbreak about ten years after the twins’ birth.”

“I’m so sorry.” Madison got to her feet, casting one more reassuring glance at the older woman. “I’ll be back shortly.”

She hurried as fast as her bigger bulk would allow, taking the stairs with speed and caution as she made her way to Tiernan’s office. Aidan was busy at his desk in the outer office, and she nodded to him, but didn’t stop to speak. It still smarted that he had been so cold to her when he’d arrested her. She could understand he had been feeling protective of his friend, but it rankled to this day.

He didn’t try to stop her, and she wouldn’t have let him. Madison knocked and entered Tiernan’s office at the same time, relieved to find him alone. Rushing to the desk, she took the pen from his hand. “Come with me.”

He frowned. “I’m in the middle of—”

She put a finger to his lips. “Trust me, nothing can be as important as this. Joan needs to talk to you.”

“Joan?” He blinked.

Madison sighed. “My midwife. She was your mother’s midwife too—well, doctor at the time—and she was present at your birth. She has something very important to tell you.”

Concern crinkled his forehead. “Is something wrong with the baby?”

Temporarily sidetracked, Madison shook her head, grasping his hand tightly between hers. “They are fine. Both are just fine.”

His eyes widened, and he looked at her stomach as if he could see two babies from the outside. “Twins?” At her nod, he grinned. “One’s a girl, and one’s a boy.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.” There was no way to be sure unless she went to the hospital for something Susan called an ultrasound, which she might do if Oritz wasn’t her doctor, but she had a feeling he was right. Tugging on his hand, she said, “That’s very important, but not what Joan needs to tell you.”

He didn’t resist any longer and walked beside her, still grasping her hand as they exited the office and made their way up the stairs. He insisted on going at such a slow pace she was gnashing her teeth by the time they reached the third floor. It was all she could do not to vibrate with excitement as she led him into the suite and over to Joan.

For just a second, she thought the older woman had fallen asleep. As she bent closer, she realized Joan wasn’t breathing, and her head was at an odd angle. Hand trembling, she reached out to touch her neck for a pulse. “She’s dead.”

He frowned. “Do you think she had a stroke or something?”

Madison had very little medical training, but she had two good eyes, and as she moved Joan’s head to try checking a different spot for a pulse, it lulled forward with a cracking sound. Crying out, she jerked back. “Someone killed her, Tiernan. They strangled her or broke her neck.” Turning away from the kindly old woman, she buried her head in his chest. Who would do such a thing, and why? What was there to gain by an old woman’s death?

Tiernan put his arm around her, turning her gaze from Joan’s dead body. “Come with me.”

She followed willingly, her mind awhirl with questions, the predominant being, who would kill Joan? She voiced the question as he led her from the suite and down the hall, to another room she hadn’t entered before. “What is this?” she asked inanely as he took her a wingback chair, easing her into it before standing.

“My private study. Wait here while I summon soldiers to deal with…everything.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

She nodded, still wrapped in the hazy cocoon of shock that insulated her. Squeezing his fingers brought her a little strength, and she was able to let go when he stepped back. It took will power not to implore him to hurry up. Joan deserved to have her body moved with dignity, followed by a thorough investigation.

After Tiernan had left her, she stared at the unlit fireplace for a while, still trying to piece it all together. The only thing that made any sort of sense was someone knew what Joan had told her and wanted to keep Tiernan from learning anything else. But who would have known, and who could have slipped in to kill her in just the few minutes she’d been gone to fetch Tiernan?

She leaned her head back, taking a deep breath. As she did so, Madison noticed the portraits on the wall. The oldest was a real photograph that looked faded from age behind the ornate glass frame. She guessed it must be Celia Archer. The next picture was a portrait someone had painted of a stern-looking older man. He looked a bit like Tiernan, but more like Celia, complete with the same bright green eyes. Since he strongly resembled the pretentious statue in the courtyard of the hospital, she knew he was Joseph F. Archer.

Looking at the last picture hanging above the fireplace, Madison shivered. Perhaps she was imagining the coldness in those green eyes, based on what she had learned, but she didn’t think so. It seemed unlikely the third portrait was anyone but Catherine Archer. She had the same features, though more feminine, and slightly too-full lips as Tiernan. Her haughty gaze was frigid, though the brilliance of her emerald-green eyes should have lent some warmth by virtue of the normally warm shade.

“You were a horrible person,” whispered Madison, unable to look away from those eyes. They were compelling and arresting. Chilling…and familiar? Where had she seen them before? Was she allowing her imagination to conjure facts that weren’t real? Had she incorporated Joan’s description of the infant with the green eyes into her thoughts to produce such certainty? Or had she really seen those eyes somewhere besides in the cold, patrician face of Catherine Archer’s portrait?

She had reached no conclusion by the time Tiernan came back a little while later. Getting to her feet, she went to him to lean against her lover. “Do you have any idea who did this?”

Tiernan hugged her tightly against him. “No, but I’ve asked Aidan to investigate. The shocking randomness of the crime makes no sense.”

“Maybe it wasn’t so random,” said Madison, convinced of at least one thing. Joan’s secret had been the reason for her death. Drawing Tiernan over to a loveseat away from Catherine’s cold gaze, she put her arm around his shoulder and told him what she had learned as gently as possible.

He sat in stunned silence for several minutes, before shaking his head. “No, that can’t be.”

Madison understood his reluctance to accept it. “I’m sure she was telling the truth, Tiernan. Somewhere, you have a twin brother.” And someone willing to kill to protect his location. She didn’t voice that thought, not wanting to upset him further.

His lips compressed. “How could she do it? How could my mother send away her own child?” He shook his head. “She was always a bit distant, but I wouldn’t have thought she could do something so heartless.”

She grasped his hand, lending silent support as he worked through his shock. Madison spoke when warranted, but otherwise kept quiet as words spilled from him in a gush, as though he needed to rid himself of something toxic. He shared fragments of a lonely childhood, interspersed with guesses about why his mother had acted the way she had.

After several minutes, he went still for a bit before saying, “I could have found him, if I’d kept looking after I found my father had died. I just didn’t want another disappointment. It seemed easier to let it go.”

“It’s not too late,” said Madison. “You have all the resources of the Federation at your disposal, so I’m sure you can locate your brother.”

Tiernan looked grim. “What will I find when I do, Madison? After what happened to Joan, I’m not sure I want to find him.” He sighed. “Someone is obviously willing to kill to protect the secret. Who else would it be besides my brother?”

She shook her head, rejecting that theory. “Why would your brother want to hide from you?”

He lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

*****

They were no closer to any answers by the time they had talked it out over dinner and for a couple of hours afterward. She wanted to be available as long as he needed her, but tiredness started to catch up with her, and she was unable to stifle all her yawns. At her third one in ten minutes, he kissed her forehead. “You need to be asleep, my love.”

“I’m fine.” She yawned again.

He gave her a small smile. “Do you think you can sleep? I know you were close to Joan.”

She nodded. “I might have bad dreams, but I’m sure I’ll sleep. Not much keeps me awake these days.” Patting her stomach, she got up from the settee. “I can’t imagine why.” Their lighthearted exchange masked the strong feelings from the day’s events that made her want to cry, and she sensed Tiernan was in a similar state. Leaning down, she kissed his mouth, but he pushed her away gently when she would have deepened the kiss.

He patted her bottom when she turned toward the bathroom. “I’ll be to bed soon.”

Madison saw to her evening preparations and crawled into bed a few minutes later. She was exhausted, though more mentally than physically. The unanswered questions surrounding Joan’s death and Tiernan’s missing brother swirled through her mind, making it difficult to shut down her brain enough to doze. Finally, slumber swept over her anyway, though she remembered thinking she might not sleep well again until they found Joan’s murderer and learned all the motives for it.

Nightmares plagued her rest, and she tossed and turned. Most of the images remained shadowy and unformed, morphing from one terrifying scenario to the next without leaving a deep impression. Sometime early in the morning though, Madison had a vivid dream, haunted by bright green eyes and remembering where she had seen them besides Catherine Archer. Briefly, she surfaced to whisper the name, as though to embed it in her psyche, before returning to deep sleep no longer bothered by nightmares.

*****

When she awoke completely, awareness returned abruptly, and the name came to her lips as though it had stayed on the tip of her tongue all night, awaiting another release. “Aidan.” She turned her head to share her theory with Tiernan, but he was already gone. Disappointment surged through her, followed by relief. Perhaps it was better not to just vomit out a hypothesis that cast his best friend in the role of villain without at least some proof.

Biting her lip, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom to prepare for the day. After she was dressed awhile later and had eaten some breakfast, she gathered her courage to see about investigating. Leaving the suite, her first stop was Tiernan’s office, where she found no one in the inner or outer office. Alarm shot her through at the idea of him being out somewhere with Aidan, unaware of possible treachery, but she reined in her panic. He had been at Tiernan’s side for several years, so it was unlikely he would pick today as the time to make his move—assuming he even had a move planned.

Hoping she was completely wrong about Aidan, she walked along the first floor, looking for someone who might know where they were. Finally, she found the older soldier who had come to her immediately after the bombing. Giving him a warm smile, she asked, “Have you seen Tiernan today, sir?”

He inclined his head. “No, Miss Cole, but I believe he was visiting one of the ration distribution centers.”

She nodded. “I see. Was Aidan accompanying him?”

If he found her question odd, he didn’t reveal his reaction. “I assume so, Miss Cole.”

With a friendly parting, she continued on, this time to find a maid. Someone on the cleaning staff would surely know Aidan’s room—and likely have a key. She smiled at the older maids she passed, assuming they would be less likely to do anything improper. Instead, she sought out a younger maid, finally finding one cleaning a small office.