Fortunate Harbor (31 page)

“That’s illegal, isn’t it?” Alice asked.

“Apparently not, because they don’t. There’s some kind of religious exemption. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Because this Dana person gave birth to a daughter who was born with a heart defect and died a year later. There’s no father on the birth certificate because women on the farm say that God is the father of all of us, and it’s an affront to list anyone else. All this was in a newspaper article. The people at the farm refused surgery for the child at first, and the girl’s pediatrician had to go to court to get permission. That’s why it made the papers for a day or two. The child died anyway. It wasn’t a big story, which is probably why it either wasn’t on the Internet or I missed it. And it’s ten years old.”

“It’s a sad story.” Janya’s expression matched her words.

“It is, but that’s not really why we’re here. Because, for our purposes, it’s just the background. The fact that the woman we know as Dana Turner stole those identities is
our
story.”

Wanda, cop’s wife that she was, had clearly grasped the important facts. “And they’d be good identities, too. A child with no social security number and a woman who refused one. All Dana had to do was get copies of the birth certificates, apply for a social security number for herself and maybe for Lizzie, and she’d look as legitimate as anybody in the world.”

“Exactly,” Tracy said. “Marsh even included a booklet on identity theft, I guess so we could see how easy it is. Apparently he forgot we’re already pretty expert on the subject because of Herb.”

“But why?” Alice’s question was the obvious one, but she was the first to form it.

“That’s where the rest of the papers come in. I did research before I gave Marsh some names to look up. I found three cases that might have something to do with Dana, all long shots.

Turns out none of them are relevant. He found updates I hadn’t been able to on the Internet. One woman had gone back home to finish her custody fight. Another was apprehended by the police and her children were returned to their father. The third fled to Indonesia with her sister’s daughter, and she’s never been extradited.”

“So where did that leave you?”

“After Marsh found Dana’s and Lizzie’s names and figured out our Dana had stolen them, he must have gone back to see if he could find anything that would lead a woman to steal someone else’s identities, some reason a woman who lived in that area and knew about the Turner situation might need one. At least, I imagine that’s how his thinking went, since he just dropped off the papers and left me to guess.”

Nobody spoke. They were all too smart.

“I don’t have any way to prove that this case has anything to do with Dana or Lizzie,” Tracy went on. “But everything fits.”

“Well, what is it?” Wanda demanded.

“The whole thing took place in Stockton, California, not that far from Fresno, just about the time the real Elizabeth Turner died. Carol Kelly, a single mother of a baby girl, was being stalked by her ex-boyfriend, a guy named Ray Strickland, who was the father of her baby. He was an ex-con, an unsavory guy with a couple of brothers just like him at home, and plenty of money. Apparently she had both custody and a restraining order, but whenever she told the police this guy was peeking in the baby’s window or standing on their doorstep, Strickland had a brother or friend alibi him. The cops believed her, but they couldn’t do anything about it. Whenever they drove by, nobody was there. The guy was mean
and
smart.”

“And you think she changed her identity and got out of Stockton?” Wanda asked.

“It’s worse than that. Thing is, she and the baby both disappeared one day. They just vanished, and there was no sign of a struggle. The only things missing were her purse and car. And the next week they found the car in a shopping mall about fifty miles away. Without the baby’s car seat.”

“Did they pursue this?” Janya was frowning, as if she couldn’t believe such things happened. “Did they arrest the boyfriend?”

“No, that’s the hardest part to explain. Because he disappeared, too.”

Everybody fell silent.

Wanda was the first to speak. “Well, how hard is that to figure out? He killed her, then he took off with the kid. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened. He knew he would be the prime suspect, and maybe his brothers wouldn’t alibi a murderer.”

“It’s possible,” Tracy said. “Or…” She looked around the room. “It’s possible that she killed
him
, and now she’s running because she’s afraid
she’ll
be caught.”

“Oh…” Alice put her hand to her lips. “That’s not possible. Dana is not…a violent person.”

“Well, we don’t know Dana is Carol Kelly, but let’s say she is. Couldn’t we all do whatever we had to, if our child was threatened?”

“No.” Janya shook her head. “No, she would run away, yes, but she would not kill the man before she did. Not Dana.”

Tracy was surprised the two women were so certain. She could imagine herself cornered, the way Carol Kelly might have been, imagine herself doing what the other women believed Dana could not.

“I think she could do it,” Wanda said, agreeing with Tracy. “Dana would do anything to protect Lizzie. Still, that doesn’t mean she did. And from what you’ve said about the baby’s father, even if he didn’t kill her and she just took off, he would know to stay out of sight, because he wouldn’t want to go to jail for murder.”

“Wait, why would he worry about jail? Whether he killed her or not, there was no body,” Tracy said. “And no sign of a struggle. She just vanished.”

“Doesn’t matter. The cops had plenty of evidence this Ray guy was stalking her. Some smart-aleck prosecutor might try to pin a murder on him, just on circumstantial evidence. Besides, and this could explain a lot, with him and her gone, too, it sure looks like
somebody
got murdered. One or the other of them. Murder stays on the books until it’s solved, right? That means the cops might still be looking for Carol Kelly, alive or dead, and could be Ray Strickland thinks they might find her someday, even if
he
can’t. If they do, he can pop up out of nowhere and come after her.”

“We have a lot of ifs and buts,” Janya said. “Many more than we should.”

“Well, I guess it’s time to show you the clincher.” Tracy had kept a packet of information for herself, and now she pulled out a photo.

“This was in the packet, only it was small and hard to make out. So I took it into a print shop and had it blown up, and the computer guy there did some work on it.” She held it up, and everybody leaned forward to see.

The photo showed a pregnant woman in her late twenties or early thirties, standing under a flowering tree. Her chin-length hair was pulled back from her face with barrettes, and
she was smiling. Tracy wondered how many times the woman had smiled since.

They passed the photo around, and each woman took a good look. Wanda was the first to speak, although she sounded doubtful. “That
could
be her. Eleven years ago. Same long face. Same type body.”

“Darker hair,” Janya said, “but that is easily explained.”

“If Dana showed me this photo and said it was her…I would not question,” Alice said. “But I wouldn’t…think of it otherwise.”

Tracy had been even more impressed with the enhanced photo, and more certain. In her opinion the resemblance was strong. But now, at the others’ lukewarm response, she wasn’t so sure. The nose might be different, the forehead higher. It was so hard to tell from a photo that old and doctored besides.

She finished trying to make her case. “This Carol Kelly wasn’t living far from Fresno, where Elizabeth Turner was born. She might have seen the newspaper article about the Turners and realized she could steal their names, get their birth certificates and make a break for it. Maybe she was so afraid of Ray Strickland that she left everything but her baby daughter and ran right then. Or maybe by the time she took off she already had the birth certificates, another car parked at that shopping mall, even money in a different account that nobody knew about.”

Tracy’s front door opened, and as they all turned to see who was there, Dana walked in. She looked flushed and happy, more like one of the gang than she ever had before.

“Hi, everybody,” she said. “It was too hot to fish, so Pete dropped us off. The girls want to eat frozen pizza and watch
Wheel of Fortune
, but I don’t. Is it too late for me to join you for dinner?”

While everybody except Dana remained absolutely frozen, Tracy did a quick calculation. Each woman was holding a stack of papers, and no matter how hard or creatively she tried to hide them, Dana was going to notice. Plus, the horror on everybody’s faces was unmistakable. Tracy hadn’t seen so many guilty expressions since, at age ten, she had caught her parents about to do the old switcheroo with another married couple in the shadows of the faux boulders beside their free-form swimming pool.

“We were just…” She was thinking fast, but Dana’s mind was faster. Her smile died.

“My timing’s bad, huh? I’m sorry. I should have called.” She turned to leave, but Wanda jumped to her feet.

“Dana, don’t you go now. We got serious business going on here, yes, but you need to help us figure it out.”

Dana didn’t move. For a moment Tracy thought she might bolt. Dana’s body was tensed, a sprinter at the starting line. Then her shoulders drooped and she turned.

She didn’t even try to smile.

Tracy knew better than to pretend nothing was wrong, because it was a lie she wouldn’t be able to maintain. “You’re our friend,” she said instead. “And we want that to continue. Please…” She gestured to a place beside Wanda on the sofa.

Dana was clearly debating, but at last she sat gingerly on the edge.

“So what’s this about?” she asked.

Tracy expected Wanda to jump right in and explain, but when the other woman didn’t, she tried to figure out how to begin. At last she just plunged in.

“Everybody here likes you, and everybody was worried. It seemed to us that you were hiding something, that you were afraid. And we thought maybe, if we knew what you were afraid of, we could help.”

“Did it occur to you that you could make matters a lot worse?”

Tracy wondered. Hadn’t they all believed they could make things better if they just knew the truth? Or had this just been another detective game, something they’d gotten good at when they tried to find Herb Krause’s family?

There was no tiptoeing around it. She started with what they were sure of. “We know you’re not really Dana Turner, and that the real Elizabeth Ann Turner was a child who died of a heart defect when she was a year old.”

“Aren’t you the clever sleuths?”

“It was never like that,” Wanda said. “Not about us just being clever. You need to believe that. Olivia came to us. She was worried about Lizzie. And, Dana, you do act like a woman who’s running. We needed to know why.”

Dana didn’t answer.

“Can you talk to us?” Tracy asked. “Tell us what’s going on?

Because nobody here is going to turn you in. As far as we’re concerned, your name really is Dana Turner.”

Dana’s gaze fell to the papers on Wanda’s lap. “You seem to have a pretty thick dossier. Why don’t you tell me what you know?”

Tracy hesitated. This was not the best way to approach the situation. Dana should tell
them
, so they could check her facts. Yet here they all sat, the papers on their laps. They couldn’t pretend they didn’t know more than what she’d already said.

Tracy watched Dana’s face. “We think you might be a woman named Carol Kelly from Stockton, California, who disappeared with her baby daughter, Sarah, almost eleven years ago. The baby’s father was stalking you, and you vanished in the night. So did he. Either you left because you were afraid he would harm you and your daughter, or…”

Dana’s eyes didn’t flicker. Whoever she was, whatever she had done, along the way she had learned to protect her thoughts and feelings like a professional. “Or?”

Tracy shook her head.

“Because I killed him?” Dana suggested.

“A man threatening a child. A mother afraid for the child’s safety.” Wanda started to pat Dana’s knee, then seemed to think better of it. “Women have killed for a lot worse reasons.”

“We are talking about a life,” Dana said, anger flaring in her eyes. “I am not a murderer.”

Tracy wondered if she had also learned how to act. The anger seemed genuine, but anger always seemed genuine in movies, too, when the actor was talented enough.

“Who are you?” Tracy asked.

“My name is Dana Turner. My driver’s license says so. I have the birth certificate to prove it.”

“What are you afraid of?” Alice asked. Maybe if any of the
rest of them had spoken, Dana would have stood and walked away, but Alice, who understood fear, had so much compassion in her voice, it seemed to melt Dana’s resistance. “We want to help. We are your friends,” Alice said gently.

Dana closed her eyes. A long moment passed. Then Dana spoke softly. “I am afraid…I could lose my daughter. I am afraid…I will not be given the years I need to raise her.”

Tracy felt the words tear through her. “Are you Carol Kelly?”

Dana didn’t move; she didn’t speak. Then she gave the slightest nod. “And now, will you report me? Because I fled with my daughter? It’s not a crime, is it? Taking my child to safety? Running from danger so I can raise her unharmed?” She opened her eyes. “Would you jeopardize Lizzie’s future now that you know?”

Wanda looked almost ill. “You’ve been running since she was a
baby?
”

“From state to state. From town to town. Trying to get an education so I can support her. Trying to earn a living. I had family and friends at home, but I can’t contact anybody. Surely you can understand that? I can’t tell anybody I’m safe or alive. The moment I do, he’ll come after me.”

“Ray Strickland?”

Dana hesitated; then, as if she was taking a chance, she nodded again.

“But he disappeared, too,” Wanda said. “If you didn’t kill him, where is he?”

“He’s the reason I have to look over my shoulder. He’s good at what he does, but he’s never been quite good enough.” Tears filled her eyes. “Not yet, anyway.”

“You poor thing.” Wanda patted her hand. “But have you seen him? Do you really know he’s still after you and Lizzie? I mean, from what we can tell, the man disappeared off the face
of the earth. Maybe he’s dead. Maybe you’re running for no good reason.”

“I didn’t kill him. You have to believe that. But if he’s dead? The world is a better place.”

“You have reason to think he’s still after you?” Tracy asked.

“Enough.” Dana looked into the distance. “People asking questions that shouldn’t need answers. Cars driving slowly past our apartments at night, shining lights in our windows. Lizzie talking about a man who hangs around her school playground and watches….” She gave a bitter laugh. “All the things
you
would never notice because they don’t seem to matter, but they’re painfully clear to me. Not because they’re true, but because they might be.”

“You have not seen him?” Janya asked.

Dana hesitated. “I think maybe I have. Twice last year. Once from the back at a park near our house, watching children playing soccer. Once in a shopping mall when I went to buy Lizzie shoes. He was sitting by a fountain, close enough to get wet, but he was so intent on watching people passing by, he didn’t even notice. I wasn’t completely sure it was him. Time’s passed. But that was why we moved
here
. We left in the dead of night. I drove as far as I could without falling asleep at the wheel. This is where we stopped.”

Tracy tried to imagine what that was like. Trusting nobody. Always looking over her shoulder.

“You can’t go home and let the police…” Alice hesitated, to find the right words “…sort this out?”

Dana shook her head. “No one understands. It’s not possible to protect us if he knows where we are.”

“And here?” Tracy asked. “Are you safe here?”

Dana looked stricken. “I thought I was until tonight.”

“No one on this key is going to harm you,” Wanda said.

“Your husband is a cop!”

Wanda looked hurt. “Do you think Kenny knows about this? I haven’t said a word to him. Not one word, and I don’t plan to. Because at the least, he’d have to do something about the identity theft. There has to be a law against getting documents under somebody else’s name.”

“Then how did you discover all this?” Dana demanded.

Tracy felt guilty. “It’s my fault. I asked a friend to run some names through a database. He’s the one who put this together.”

“And now who will
he
tell?”

“Not a soul. He has no interest in telling anybody, I promise. He did it as a favor to me. I’m sure he’s already forgotten the whole thing.”

Dana put her head in her hands. “How can I know that for sure?”

Tracy couldn’t answer that. Wanda, too, looked unsure. But Janya rose to the occasion.

“Dana,” she said in her musical voice, “you can run again. This is true. Tonight. But here, you’re not alone. There are many eyes to watch over you. We can be certain no questions are asked that should not be. We can watch for men who are too interested in the things that happen at Happiness Key. We can spot cars driving slowly past your house. You will not be alone here. We are careful. We are…observant. We will help you keep Lizzie safe.”

Wanda put her arm around Dana. “She’s right. Not only won’t we report you, we’ll watch out for you. You’ve got a good place to live here. A job where you’re valued. Friends for you and Lizzie. If you take off again, you’ll end up in another cheap motel. No job, nothing for Lizzie to do. And she’s so happy here. We’re so happy to have her. Don’t do that to her.”

Dana sat back at last. “I am so tired of running.”

“I can only imagine,” Alice said.

“Maybe you’ll have to run again,” Tracy said. “But not, I promise you, from us. We’ll just try to make sure you’re safe. Stay. At least until you think he’s found you again.”

“He could be watching right now.”

“He’d better not be,” Wanda said. “Kenny’s got a gun, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Oh, great,” Tracy said. “There’s something that’ll make us all sleep better. Leave the guns to Ken, okay? Just keep your eyes open. We’re all agreed?”

“You’ll promise?” Dana said. “That you won’t tell anybody about the…irregularities in our papers?”

“Who’s interested in irregularities?” Wanda said. “Whole world’s falling apart around us. We got plenty to think about besides you. But you try to leave, I’ll find you. The heck with old Ray Strickland. I’ll find you and drag you back by the hair on your head. I can’t lose you now. You’re the best manager a pie shop could hope for.”

“We all promise.” Tracy looked around. “Right?”

“Right,” they said in unison.

“Okay, it’s time to eat,” Tracy said. “And we’ve got pie in the refrigerator when the salads are gone. And the rolls were hot once upon a time, so just pretend, okay?”

Dana rose. Tracy wondered if she would make an excuse to leave, and if tomorrow morning Herb’s house would be empty again. But instead she moved toward the table with the others.

“I haven’t had friends in a long time,” she said.

Wanda put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, you got some now. Take advantage of us as long as you can, okay?”

“I might need some help remembering how.”

Alice slipped her arm around Dana’s waist. “These women? They saved my life.”

For the first time Dana looked close to tears. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Tracy did, too. She hoped that the stranger named Ray Strickland stayed far, far away. Because despite all their brave words, if he didn’t, she wasn’t sure what five women and two preteen girls would be able to do about it.

Wanda was the last to leave. She fussed over the pie pans, scrubbing both until even the most advanced laboratory couldn’t have proved pie had ever resided there. Then, when everyone but Tracy had left, Wanda went to the living room window and watched the women disappearing toward their respective houses.

“So, what do you think?”

Tracy was storing leftover salads in her refrigerator. She spoke from the depths, so her voice sounded hollow.

“I think if she’s still here in the morning, she’ll stay. But after what she’s been through, it’s going to be hard to trust us completely.”

Wanda was having problems putting the whole scenario together. Being a cop’s wife, she knew about stalkers. How hard they were to escape from. How volatile their emotions. How unlikely they were to think about consequences. All a stalker wanted was his prey. And even celebrities, with all the money in the world for security, sometimes died at their hands.

But something was bothering her. Something was gnawing a hole in all the explanations and promises. She just wasn’t sure what it was.

The refrigerator door slammed. Then Tracy came into the living room. “What do you think?” she asked Wanda.

“I don’t know. I just have this itchy feeling in my head, like something’s scratching to get out and I can’t get in there to set it free.”

“That’s colorful.” Tracy flopped down on the sofa. “You know Dana better than anybody else. Maybe something she said before? Something you know about her that’s not matching up?”

“Nothing like that.”

“Do you think she killed Ray Strickland?”

Wanda wondered. Dana had been adamant. Her denial had been emotional, although she’d been careful to hide her emotions the rest of the night. But Wanda didn’t think that was what was itching at her.

“Not my job to find her guilty of murder,” Wanda said. “That would be up to a jury.”

“Maybe if she’d told us the story, I’d be worried about her spin, but the newspaper spelled out the facts. Ray Strickland was bad through and through.”

“And if she did kill him, why would she run? Nobody’s found a body. She could have gone about her business, knowing she was free.”

“Works for me,” Tracy said. “So let’s just say she didn’t kill him, and the guy really is out there trying to find her…”

Wanda slapped the window ledge. “That’s what’s bothering me.”

“Glad to be of help. What did I say?”

“A guy trying to find her. What if Ray Strickland’s not working alone? What if he’s hired people to look for her?”

“And how would he pay for that?”

“You said he had plenty of money.”

“Well, that’s what the paper said, but she’s been running a
long time. And he hasn’t exactly been earning more, at least not so anyone knows.”