Grave Secrets (16 page)

However, for the last several days, she’d been sitting around the house a lot and either she was losing her mind or walking in her sleep. Both of which made her shudder. The vase in the foyer now sat on the drawing room mantel, a crystal decanter from the drawing room had been moved to the middle of Jason’s desk. She didn’t remember moving them. Every morning she made a game of searching the house, to find each item not in its original location. After identifying them, she left them where they were, afraid if she touched them her fractured nerves would shatter.

Her making a joke out of it had lessened the stress to a certain degree. Only now there were too many things she couldn’t control and her hold on reality was slipping. Finding ways to distract herself had become more difficult as the days wore on.

She’d made the mistake of going to the Country Club once. In the ruse of concern, her so-called friends had asked why Jason’s body had been exhumed. One woman had blatantly told her everyone thought she’d killed her husband and wanted to know why. What did she have to gain? Then she’d asked if the police were going to arrest her. That was the last time Sara had been to the club.

Out of desperation, she decided to go for a drive. She’d told Cat she’d take the T-Bird out periodically to keep the battery charged and the fluids flowing, promising to continue the regular tune up’s and service appointments. It felt odd sliding behind the steering wheel of the vintage car. As soon as she turned on the engine, heavy metal music blared from the speakers. She quickly switched the radio off. How in the world could Cat listen to this type of racket? And so loud? Sara had no idea her friend liked the stuff. Then decided everyone had their own tastes, and it wasn’t any of her business what kind of music Cat listened to. At least she didn’t make Sara listen to it. Just like Sara didn’t force Cat to go to the opera with her. She grinned. They were certainly a strange pair.

Sara turned the radio back on, leaving the volume low as she searched for something more soothing. Finally locating her favorite classical music station, she shifted the car into reverse. She hadn’t gone three feet before she jammed on the brakes, then switched the radio off again. Odd. She couldn’t remember a time when music hadn’t been part of her life. Now it irritated her, grinding on her nerves. She didn’t want to hear happy or soothing. In fact, she didn’t want to listen to it at all.

After she sat and collected her wits, she finally pulled out of the garage.
Enough of the depressing thoughts.
To compensate in the other direction, she lowered the top, tied a scarf around her hair, and wore the largest sunglasses she owned. Just like Thelma and Louise. Forcing a smile, hoping she’d eventually feel a little better, she set off at a leisurely pace, determined to enjoy the sunny day.

The dreams had become more frequent. And hearing Jason’s voice... She knew he was dead, yet she kept hearing him. Always accusing her of his death. How could that be? She hadn’t even realized he’d had a heart problem until the night he died. He should have told her. Wasn’t that what couples were supposed to do? Confide in each other? It was too late now so no sense in torturing herself with “what ifs.”

She wound up at the river walk. She dropped her purse in the trunk and put the car keys into the pocket of her khaki colored Capri’s, glad she’d worn flat sandals. The day was almost too warm and muggy after the rains a few days earlier. The water level was still up, but flowed at a slow lazy pace, belying the treacherous underlying current of the river.

Kind of like her. On the surface she seemed calm and serene. Underneath, her emotions were a swirling turmoil. She ached for her daughter, to have a bit of normalcy back in her life.

No one knew just how close she was to cracking. Perhaps it was the sleepless nights she’d been having since they’d exhumed Jason’s body. Maybe it was the waiting for the results to come back. Or fear of what those results would be—what secrets they would tell. Or if they told anything at all.

A woman with a stroller jogged passed her, the youngster inside happily bouncing with the mother’s pounding feet. Sara drew in a deep breath, held it as her heart skipped a beat. A simple outing with your child—so mundane, so normal, that the wonder of it goes unappreciated.

Until you lose your child. Then every small act becomes a cherished memory.

Struggling to maintain her composure, she forced herself to turn away, to stop staring at the woman now disappearing around the far bend in the path. Sara’s chin quivered. Without Kaycee, she felt empty, barren. After several moments, she resumed a normal pace, resolutely ignoring the in-line bladers, bikers and joggers. Thank God there were no more babies in strollers.

For a brief moment, she wondered what secrets others on the river walk might have? Did the dark-haired, middle aged woman’s spouse beat her? Why wasn’t the teenage skateboarder in school? Or had he flunked out? Had the last jogger just lost everything he owned and came here to sweat out his troubles. No one knew what lay under the surface of their fellow human beings, what horrors they might have experienced.

Like having your dead husband talk to you.

“Sara.”

She shrieked. Jerking around, she halfway expected to see Jason looming over her in some form of an eerie apparition.

Morgan. Thank God. Her heart pounded against her chest. “Don’t do that!” She was harsher than she’d intended. In reality, just the sight of him warmed her. He had on faded and worn jeans with a pale yellow button down shirt, making his dark looks seem even more mysterious and darker. He’d rolled the sleeves partway up his arms, adding to his casual appearance. His gaze, though, was just as dark and penetrating.

“Sorry. Guess you were deep in thought and didn’t hear me come up.”

She raised her eyebrows as if to say, obviously not. “How’d you know I’d be here?” Had she sent out some weird ESP signals or something? Or had he followed her again? It had been days since she’d seen or talked to him. Yet here he stood as if she’d summoned him out of thin air.

“I was going down Riverside Drive when I saw the red convertible. At first I thought it was your friend, then I finally saw you.” He glanced around. “Where’s Ms. Walker?”

“She isn’t here.” Sara resisted the urge to squirm. His intense gaze cut right through her, and she would swear he could see things she’d rather not reveal to the world. Then he’d blink and that intensity would be gone.

“And she lets you drive her car?” He whistled appreciatively. “Nice friend!”

“She left the car with me while she’s out of town. The day’s so pretty I thought I’d take it for a drive.”

“That it is. Care for some company?” Without waiting for a reply, he cupped her elbow and directed her down the path in the direction she’d been headed.

At least he asked first. Sort of. “Actually.” She paused just long enough to make him stop and look at her in question. Sara liked their light-hearted banter. It gave her a nice relief from the constant and oppressive pressure she experienced every second of every day worrying about Kaycee. “I would love the company.”

He gave a brief nod, then silently began walking again, his hand warm against the small of her back. She smiled at the familiar touch, loving the connection. When was the last time Jason had been so attentive, had touched her in such a casual but affectionate way? She couldn’t remember. Usually, when they were out, he’d be a half step ahead of her, eager to greet a business associate or golfing buddy, assuming she’d follow. Which of course she did. He hadn’t always been callous, and she’d assumed the longer people were married, the less they touched. At lease in public.

She glanced up to see an older couple holding hands as they walked down the pathway toward Morgan and herself. When they were closer, her breath hitched. Their graying hair, wrinkled skin, and slow gait only added to the obvious love they felt for each other. How she envied them. Would she ever find that kind of love? She didn’t think she’d had it with Jason. Not in the last few years, anyway. The couple passed them as if she and Morgan weren’t even there and continued on their way. Sara glanced back in time to see the old man plant a quick peck on his wife’s weathered cheek. Tears sprang to Sara’s eyes, but she blinked them away.

“You okay?” Morgan asked when she turned back around.

She gave him a tight smile. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He studied her face a moment as if he didn’t believe her, then let the matter drop. She wasn’t sure she could explain her emotions if he pressed for an explanation.

For several minutes, they strolled without speaking, the sounds of water lapping against the shoreline several feet below floating in the air. Tall oaks lined the trail, casting enough shade to keep her from perspiring. Bronze wildlife statues of elk, bear, and eagles on native rock piers dotted the landscape. Occasionally a runner or biker passed them. Each time, Morgan would move her to the side to allow access, as if he were protecting her. Was that why she felt safe around him? Because more than once he’d been her protector?
Don’t go there. He’s a private investigator, so he probably does that sort of thing all the time. It’s nothing personal.
For it to be anything else wasn’t in the realm of possibilities. Not for her. Not now.

“Have you heard from Detective Cannon?” he asked.

She glanced at him but couldn’t read his expression. “No. I thought perhaps you had.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not the next of kin. I have connections, but that doesn’t automatically give me access to details of a case.”

Knowing the results of the autopsy would go a long way in getting one chapter of her life resolved and closed. More important to her at this point was finding her daughter. She’d hoped he would have brought it up first, and she’d been loath to ask, not wanting to break the comfortable silence they’d lapsed into. Besides, if he’d had any news, he would have already told her.

“You did say it’d take a while to get the results.”

“Yes, but I’d hoped they’d speed it up because of...”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. She knew he meant because of the poor baby found in Jason’s grave. “Have you made any progress in...in my case?” She’d almost said “our” case. Why had the thought even crossed her mind? He wasn’t involved except as the investigator.

“I’ve checked all adoptions that occurred during that time, anyone suddenly showing up with a baby no one knew about beforehand, and so far haven’t had any luck. It’s almost as if the kid dropped off the face of the earth.”

Sara stopped in mid stride. Surely he didn’t believe... “It isn’t her!” Somehow, she had to convince him.

He gazed at her intently, his dark eyes searching her face.

“I haven’t found any proof one way or the other, but over the years I’ve learned to trust my gut. There’s a bond between a mother and a child, so I’m going with your instinct. I’m looking for a live baby, not a dead one.”

Her pent up breath rushed out. She grabbed his arm with both hands. “Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much hearing you say that means to me.” If Morgan believed Kaycee was alive, then she knew he’d find her. If anyone could, it was him. Whether a mothers’ instinct or wishful thinking, it was hard to tell. Either way, Morgan would get the job done.

Just the thought of Kaycee in her arms again made her fingers itch. She wanted it so badly she could see it, taste it, feel it in every bone in her body. They would find her. All they had to do was look in the right place, or turn the right corner at just the right time to see her. It was just a matter of time. That and persistent searching.

Never give up. Sara had made that her motto, and she’d never let it go. Ever.

****

Morgan had no idea what had possessed him to say what he did. The words were out of his mouth before he knew it. The look on Sara’s face was more than he could stand and for whatever reason, he wanted to give her hope. In reality, he figured her baby was dead. Dead and buried in her husband’s grave.

But what if Sara was right and the baby they’d dug up wasn’t hers? Then whose was it? Maybe he should take a different tact and concentrate on finding out the dead baby’s identity. He needed to talk to Reece again and find out if he’d gotten an idea of when the autopsy results for Jason Adams would be back.

Morgan needed to rule out the possibility the dead baby wasn’t Sara’s. Even if the body wasn’t involved in the supposed murder of Jason Adams, it was still a dead baby. If they wouldn’t do a cross between the husband and the baby, then they should at least do a cross between Sara and the baby. He’d find out.

After
a walk in the park with the lovely—and enticing—Mrs. Adams.

He stole a glance at her. This was the most casual he’d seen her, and he liked it. She didn’t seem so much like a plastic Stepford wife. Not that she was, but she did a superb job of pretending to be one. That spotless house and no visible help. Which made him wonder what her husband had been like. Maybe he should dig a little deeper into Adams’ background. Was there more to the medical claims company he’d owned than what was presented to the public? Were they totally legit, and would it stand up to an in-depth audit? Hmm. Warranted checking out.

“Do you have any idea how much longer it’ll be?” she asked.

“How much longer what will be?”

“Anything. Everything. Even though I hired you, getting information out of you is close to impossible,” she said, clearly exasperated.

“Hasn’t Charlene been calling you?” He was puzzled by her outburst. What was it with women?

“You know full well she has. And it isn’t the same as you calling me yourself. I think I have a right to hear it directly from the person I hired.”

She stood her ground and glared at him, looking altogether too sexy and more human than he’d ever seen her. Even when she’d fainted in his arms, she’d still been the prim and proper socialite. He paused, scowling at her. The stubborn woman didn’t back down.

Impressed, he finally relented. “I’m sorry. In the future, I’ll personally apprise you of any and all progress.”