forgotten (Twisted Cedars Mysteries Book 2) (24 page)

Jamie slathered peanut butter on her toast, added cream to her coffee. “What makes you think I won’t?”

“I knew your mother, and you’re just like her. When Edward was having his tempers and getting rough with her, all Katie could think about was how to make him happy.
What am I doing wrong?
She would ask me, and she never believed me when I said
nothing.
The only reason she kicked him out was to protect you kids. She never would have done it for herself.”

Jamie had heard this story many times already. “But Kyle has never hurt me, Stella. And he doesn’t have a terrible temper, either.”

But he did have a way of going all cold and silent when he was disappointed that was almost worse than being yelled at. No sense telling Stella that, though. She didn’t need any more ammunition in her war against Jamie’s marriage.

“There’s lots of kinds of hurting, Jamie.”

“I’m sure you’re right. And I bet most marriages have at least a little of that to contend with.” She almost added
even you and Amos
. But she didn’t need to. She could see the flash of pain in Stella’s eyes that was quickly replaced with concern.

“Don’t think I take marriage vows lightly. I don’t. But you have to consider what you have invested. You and Kyle have only been together a year and a half now. You haven’t bought a house together, or made any other big investments. And you don’t have children. No one could blame you for wanting a clean start. You’re not even thirty. You could still have the life you’ve dreamed of—a good husband, a happy home and children of your own.”

She may not have realized it, but Stella had hit on the sorest point from Jamie’s point of view. Kyle had made it clear when he asked her to marry him that he didn’t want more children. Two were enough and he hoped that she could grow to love them as if they were her own.

Loving Chester and Cory hadn’t been a problem. Accepting that she would have no babies of her own was.

But she’d agreed to those terms when she’d married him.

And on one point Stella was wrong. Chester and Cory might not be Jamie’s biological children. But she knew they loved her as much as she loved them. The decision she made about whether to remain a part of their family would have lasting repercussions on their lives.

“I see that expression on your face. You’re thinking I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Jamie flushed.

“Well I do. When Amos and I got married, I had as much hope for our future as you did when you married Kyle.”

“Stella—"

“Don’t try and stop me. And don’t look at your watch and tell me you need to get to the office. By the time you’re finished eating that toast, I’ll be done. It doesn’t take much to derail a marriage. Sometimes the small pebble in your shoe at the start of a journey is the one that ends up making the most painful blister.”

“Kyle’s lies weren’t exactly small pebbles.”

“My point exactly.” Stella patted her hand. “I always said you were a smart one.”

* * *

The glass door to the library was smashed in when Charlotte arrived for work on Tuesday morning.

She gasped. Then dropped her keys and spent almost an entire minute staring at the door, as if the image before her would reform itself.

But the glass remained broken.

She called Dougal first. He and Borden had spent the night at her place. When she’d left him this morning, he’d said he was going for a walk on the beach.

She suspected he was still looking for Joelle. He’d been all over town the previous evening trying to find her.

“Dougal. I’m so glad you answered. There’s been a break-in at the library.”

He swore. “Where are you?”

“At the front door. I was just about to unlock it when I saw the broken glass.”

“Don’t go inside. Come home Charlotte. I’ll call 911.”

“But I’ll need to be here when the police arrive. So I can tell them what’s missing. And assess the damage. Oh, and call the insurance company. And—" Her head swam at the prospect of all that would need to be done.

“Listen. Come home. Now.”

She frowned.

“I’m on the beach headed to Oceans Way. I’ll be on Driftwood Lane in less than a minute. I expect to see you shortly. Now get off the line so I can call 911.”

When she tried to press the end button, her finger was shaking so much she could hardly manage.

Shock, she supposed.

With a glance over her shoulder at the library—a building that wouldn’t exist if not for the championing of her family—she started toward Ocean Way. Less than sixty seconds later she ran into Dougal.

He looked frantic.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “And the library building and contents are insured...”

But if he heard her, he wasn’t reassured. He gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

“I’ll call you soon,” he said. “Just go home. Stay inside and lock the—"

He paused, then changed his mind. “On second thought, you better stay with me.” He took her arm and they walked together, retracing her morning route to work.

By the time they arrived, Wade and Deputy Carter had their guns at ready. Wade motioned for them to stand back.

“Police! If anyone is in there, come out with hands high.”

Charlotte shrank behind one of the twisted cedars. Dougal put a hand over her shoulders, and told her to prepare herself for something awful.

“What?”

Dougal’s skin looked gray, his eyes welded to the front door.

The two law officers had disappeared inside. A few passersby stopped to ask what was wrong.

“We don’t know yet,” Dougal said. “But to be safe, I’d cross the road if I were you.”

A few minutes later a second squad car arrived, this one with two more officers. One began cordoning off the area. The other went inside, calling out his name and asking if everything was okay.

When a third squad car arrived, followed by an ambulance, Charlotte didn’t know what to think.

“What did they find in there?” She studied Dougal’s face. “You know, don’t you?”

“Everyone’s been looking for Joelle since she left the hospital yesterday,” he said. “I’m afraid she’s in there.”

“You think she broke into the library sometime last night?”

“No. I think Ed broke in.”

Dougal had shared his theory with her last night. She’d listened without comment, not wanting to hurt his feelings and tell him how preposterous she found it.

The idea that Joelle was his half-sister and that Ed Lachlan would have tracked her down and killed her baby. Why, it was crazy. Besides, last time Dougal had seen him, his father had been in New York. Across the country. Why would he return to Oregon, where the likelihood of getting picked up for breaking his parole would be that much greater?

“I’m not following,” she said. “Why would Ed want to go inside the library?”

“I’m afraid to answer that. All I know is that he is one sick bastard. I need to warn Jamie.” He pulled out his phone, but ended up leaving a message. “Call me, Jamie. It’s urgent.”

When more than an hour had passed, Charlotte suggested they grab a coffee at Frosty’s.

“You go ahead,” Dougal said. “I can watch you from here.”

“You think it’s not safe for me to walk down Driftwood Lane in the middle of the morning?”

“Nothing’s going to feel safe to me until I find out what happened in the library, and whether my father was involved.

i
n 1976, Wade’s father, who was then the Sheriff of Curry County, had been the first responder when the library’s handyman, Amos Ward, reported finding the local librarian, Shirley Hammond, hanging from an exposed rafter in the basement, dead.

Now, twenty-four years later, it was Wade’s turn.

Only, instead of Shirley Hammond, it was Joelle Caruthers who had died, hung from an exposed rafter, a stool knocked over at her feet.

Wade came close to breaking down when he first saw her.

And in that instant, he understood why his father had never gotten over Shirley Hammond’s death.

He pulled himself together and, following protocol, told Duane call for back-up while he checked for vital signs—of which there were none. The body was cold and rigor was already setting in.

Later, he wasn’t surprised when his deputy coroner estimated Joelle had been dead for at least eight hours.

While Wade’s father had been given every reason to believe Shirley had committed suicide—there’d been an overturned stool by the body, as well as a library book open to instruction on how to hang yourself—Wade knew Joelle had been murdered.

“Two theories occur to me,” Duane said, when the crime team was hard at work, and after the body had been removed. “One, her memory came back and she couldn’t handle the fact that her baby was dead so she committed suicide.”

Wade nodded. It was possible.

“Or, two, her husband wanted her dead and staged this to look like suicide.”

“Richard Caruthers was in Twisted Cedars last night,” Wade said. “I saw him at the Linger Longer. He flat out admitted he was looking for his wife.” A stupid move for a man bent on murder.

“Obviously, he wasn’t thinking straight. Probably half-crazed with grief and anger.”

“That’s a strong possibility. But Dougal Lachlan raised another option with me. He has a suspicion that Joelle might be the daughter from his father’s second marriage. I sent some emails last night. Should find out today if it’s true.”

“Well that’s weird. But is it relevant?”

“Apparently Ed Lachlan’s claiming he murdered four librarians in the seventies. He may have been behind the apparent suicide of our local librarian back then as well.”

“I’ve heard rumors about that,” Carter admitted. “But say it’s true. Why would he then murder his own daughter and grand-daughter?”

“That’s a good question.” It was diabolical, and perverted, that a woman and her child should die on the whim of a sick and twisted man.

But if it were true, it wouldn’t be the first time.

No wonder Dougal was haunted by the fact that he shared DNA with this bastard. Suddenly Wade understood so much about Dougal that had eluded him before.

As soon as he was able, Wade went outside to see if Dougal and Charlotte were still waiting. He found them sitting on a bench by the twisted cedars, leaning in toward one another, heads touching. They were holding hands.

“Is it Joelle? Is she dead?” Charlotte asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

Charlotte closed her eyes.

Dougal looked haunted. “It looks like suicide, I bet. But it isn’t, my father did this, Wade.”

“I’m checking into your theory that Joelle was Ed’s daughter. But as you recall, Richard Caruthers was in town last night, too,” Wade felt obliged to point out. “Looking for Joelle.”

“The husband is always the first suspect, right?” Charlotte sounded like she wanted this to be true.

No doubt she hoped to spare Dougal the burden of assuming yet another sin of his father’s.

“Usually,” Wade said. “But even if Richard did want Joelle dead, it seems unlikely he would have tied together two red scarves to do the job.”

d
uring her drive to Port Orford to sign an offer for the house on Horizon Hill Road, Jamie got a call from her brother. She let it go to messages. Kyle called next. She almost let it go as well, then decided she’d better answer.

“They’re going to arrest me soon,” Kyle said. “My lawyer thinks it will probably be today.”

Jamie was silent. What could she say?

“Will you watch out for Cory and Chester?”

“Of course I will.”

“Thanks. I realize I was out of the line the other day, asking if you would petition for custody. And I’ll make things easy for you to apply for an annulment. I’ve had my lawyer draw up a statement where I admit to marrying you under fraudulent circumstances.”

“Oh.” Jamie was taken aback by his reasonableness. She was used to looking for the ulterior motive in everything Kyle said and did. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry for everything. I truly am. I realize from your perspective I’ve been a real shit. And you never deserved that.”

His words freed her. Absolved her. She ought to be feeling relieved right now. So why were her eyes filling with tears.

“I just have one last favor to ask, Jamie.”

Oh, oh. Here it comes
. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for a blow of some sort.

“I know I lied and hid things from you, right from the start. But I did love you, Jamie. I still do. You don’t owe me anything. But if you could try to believe that, I would really appreciate it.”

“Good luck, Kyle,” she managed to reply, before ending the call.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. It would be easier to deal with the end of this marriage if she could view Kyle as a villain, plain and simple.

But she just couldn’t do that.

And this last conversation had reminded her of all the good things. Maybe she was a fool to believe him when he said he still loved her.

The truth was, she still felt love for him, too.

Along with anger, resentment and disappointment.

Still, she knew an annulment was the right step. And so was buying this house. She liked the idea of starting out in a new neighborhood, with a new place. She’d be in control of her life now. No more dreaming about a prince on a white steed, promising her a happily ever after.

Baily greeted Jamie at the door to her office dressed in a silk blouse and a summer-weight wool skirt. She’d had her gel nails redone. They were red now, with gold tips.

Jamie wondered if Bailey had intended the symbolism. Probably not.

“Would you like a coffee? Our receptionist can make you a latte or an espresso.”

“A latte would be nice.” She could use the caffeine. It had been a long day, and she still had another appointment after this one.

They sat down together in a small conference room with framed photographs of beautiful houses on the walls. Bailey was patient and thorough as she went through each clause of the agreement. Jamie had a nice down payment and an approved mortgage. The only condition to her offer was a home inspection—which shouldn’t cause a problem in Bailey’s opinion.