Reap a Wicked Harvest (22 page)

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Authors: Janis Harrison

BOOK: Reap a Wicked Harvest
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“Happy Birthday, dear Bretta. Happy Birthday to you.”
Fervently, Lois added, “And many, many more.”
My guests solemnly nodded their agreement. We were seated around my dining room table. The room was decked in purple and lavender streamers. Flowers graced the table. The sideboard held the remnants of a hearty meal. A decorated cake waited for the candles to be lit. All the components were present for a happy occasion, but the party had fallen flat. Out of respect for Natalie and Dan, no one had mentioned last night's events.
While Lois and Lew entertained everyone with a humorous tale from the flower shop, I thought about Donovan and Emily's arrest. The greenhouse's ATV had gotten a workout. The sirens had stopped on the road to the lodge. I can only surmise what had happened. Since Sid had charged down the slope on the machine, I assumed he'd commandeered it from my father. I figured he'd pulled rank, flashing his badge for good measure. Sid had arrived at my side so perturbed he could barely speak.
Under heavy guard, Donovan and Emily had been taken to the hospital where their injuries were treated. Natalie, Jacob, Alicia, my father and I had been escorted to the sheriff's department. I don't know what the others said, but I'd held
tightly to my composure while Sid questioned me. When he demanded to know why I hadn't told him that I suspected a black-market baby scam, I'd fallen back on the glib line I'd told my father—that I'd been too busy collecting information to put it together. Which had been true for a while. Sid hadn't believed me any more than my father, but at least he'd dropped the subject when the press came calling for his account on the arrests.
My mind switched back to the present when Lois said, “Enough of this. Bretta, don't you have something to say on this momentous occasion?”
As the guest of honor, I'd been seated at the head of the table. Slowly, I rose to my feet. Every muscle in me ached, but nothing could compare to the pain in my heart. I looked around the table. This party had been planned as a surprise for me, but at my request, DeeDee had curtailed the guest list to include only my closest friends—Lois and her husband. Lew and his mother. Avery Wheeler, my lawyer friend. My father. DeeDee. Natalie and Dan.
My birthday party might be small, but the love in the room brought a lump to my throat. I cleared it away. “Well,” I said shakily, “I don't know what to say except that I'm truly blessed to have all of you in my life.”
Abruptly, Natalie got up and left the room. Dan started after her, but I beat him to the door. “Let me speak to her,” I said. “I want to make sure she doesn't blame me.”
Dan's eyes were somber behind his black-rimmed glasses. Natalie and I'd always teased him that he looked and acted like an absentminded professor. Tonight he was just a sad man who was worried about his wife. He nodded and stepped away from the door.
I found Natalie on the front veranda, leaning against a fluted
column, staring out into the darkness. I touched her arm. “Is this trouble going to ruin our friendship?”
She wasn't crying, but the tears were close to the surface. “No. I don't blame you, but I feel as if I've been at fault.”
I wasn't sure what I'd expected her to say but never this. “Why would you think that?” I asked.
“Perhaps I put the idea into their minds. I've spoken often enough about how difficult it is to adopt a child, about the wait and the expense. What Uncle Donovan and Emily did was wrong, but a part of me can see the goodness in finding loving homes for unwanted babies.”
“But Donovan and Emily murdered two innocent women. Three, if you count Paige. They didn't provide her with medical aid when she needed it.”
Natalie shook her head. “I can't think about that.”
“You have to face the truth. Donovan and Emily were opportunists. They took advantage of a situation, but not because of their concern for the women and their unborn babies, but for the money they would make off the deals.”
“All I can think about are the babies that were born practically under my nose, and I suspected nothing.”
“Half a mile away was not under your nose.”
Natalie waved a hand. “You're always so literal. You don't understand.”
“You've said that before, but I understand more than you give me credit. I also know right from wrong, and you do, too.”
Natalie shrugged. “Dan has asked our lawyer if he will approach Alicia about adopting her child.”
“That's wonderful.”
“I'm afraid to hope.” She straightened and took my arm. “This is your day. Let's go back inside. I want a piece of your birthday cake.”
We entered the dining room to find the cake aglow with candles. Natalie squeezed my arm before taking a seat next to Dan. Trying to lighten the mood, she said, “Blow out those candles, Bretta, before they trigger a fire alarm.”
Lois said, “But don't forget to make a wish.” A devilish gleam danced in her eyes. “Make it a fan-damn-tastic one. You deserve the best.”
“I don't know about that,” I said softly.
My wishes were many. How could I pick only one? I wanted Natalie and Dan to have a child. I wanted Jacob to find peace with himself. He'd gone to see Dixie, but from what I understood, she hadn't recognized him. I wanted Bailey to come home as soon as possible. I wanted to be more tolerant of my father.
Finally, I settled on the one thing that was purely selfish. I took a deep breath and puffed out my cheeks. Leaning close to the cake, I released the air in a long, drawn out whoosh. The candles flickered and went out. Amid cheers and well wishes, the telephone rang.
DeeDee leaped from her chair. “I'll g-get it,” she said.
I picked up a knife and sliced off the first piece of cake. “Who wants a corner with all this gooey icing?” I asked, then added, “Besides me, of course.” Everyone held out his or her plate. I shook my head. “Come on, guys. There are only three corners.
We were laughing when DeeDee came back into the room. Her eyes twinkled with excitement. “B-Bailey's on the p-phone. H-he wants to w-wish you a h-happy birthday.”
She didn't have to tell me twice. Smiling, I headed for the library where I would have some privacy. I picked up the receiver. “Hello,” I said.
“How's my birthday girl?”
The sound of his voice washed over me, making my knees weak. “Oh, Bailey,” I said, sinking down on the edge of the sofa. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. I have a gift for you. I was going to give it to DeeDee, but I've changed my mind. If you can leave your party, go over to my house and look beside my desk.”
I started to protest, but Bailey said, “I'd like for you to have it on your birthday. All you have to do is get my house key from DeeDee and walk over there.”
“Okay. I'll go over while the others eat their cake.” I paused, then asked, “When will you be home?”
“Soon. I'm cutting my visit short.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “That's the only gift I want or need.”
His deep chuckle sent a delightful shiver through me. “I'll see you soon,” he said and hung up.
I replaced the receiver. I wasn't ready to end the conversation, but apparently, Bailey had said all he'd wanted to say. I went back into the dining room. As soon as I walked through the doorway the conversation ceased.
“Bailey has a gift for me over at his house,” I said. “For some reason he wants me to have it on my birthday. Please excuse me for a few minutes.” I turned to DeeDee. “I need the—”
She whipped a key ring out of her pocket. “Here it is,” she said.
I took the key and lowered my eyebrows. “What are you, a mind reader?”
DeeDee didn't answer but escorted me across the foyer. “You'd b-better hurry so you c-can get b-back to your party.” She grabbed a flashlight that was conveniently lying on the table by the door. Offering it to me, she added, “Bye. S-see you 1-later.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Later.”
I walked out the door and down the front steps. I turned on the flashlight and crossed my driveway to the path that led to Bailey's house. Something was going on, but I wasn't sure what. Maybe Bailey's call was a ruse. DeeDee had been antsy all evening, not able to sit still for a moment. I hoped she didn't have any more surprises planned.
I'd smiled and pretended to have a good time, but my heart wasn't into celebrating and opening brightly wrapped packages. Sexy lingerie, seductive perfume, body powder, and flashy jewelry couldn't compete with being held close by a pair of strong, loving arms.
I was thinking about Bailey, but murmured, “Carl, I am so sorry.”
Tears I'd held in check for hours ran down my cheeks. I stopped on the path and gazed up at the sky that was a blur of gray and black—colors that suited my melancholy mood.
It seemed only right that on this day, the date of my birth, I'd open my heart and my mind to the part of my life that I'd botched. Carl and I had only been married a couple of months when I suspected I was pregnant. A year, two years down the road, I would've been overjoyed, but at that point, I wasn't ready to be a mother. I was too busy, too young, and too inexperienced to care for a child.
I kept my suspicions to myself, never divulging anything to Carl. Alone with my anxiety, I'd ranted and raved and prayed that I'd misread my condition. A week after the doctor confirmed that I was six weeks along, I suffered a miscarriage. I was guilt ridden, dismayed that I'd somehow forced this baby from my body by willing it away.
Carl's erratic work schedule had made it easier to tuck my guilty secret away. When he was home, I was gone and vice
versa. As the days passed into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years, all of life's unpredictable changes pressed down on top of my shame. Rarely did I think about the child that might have been. If I did, it was as if that experience had happened to another woman who didn't exist anymore.
The circumstances surrounding Marnie's death had gouged away the boundaries I'd placed around my remorse. In my heart, I felt that baby, who had been no bigger than a peanut, had known it wasn't wanted. And now, if I had it to do over again, I'd welcome Carl's child into my life. But Carl was gone. My time to be a mother was gone as well. I'd been chastised by never conceiving again. That was my punishment. That and facing Carl's disappointment each month.
For twenty years I'd kept my secret. Twenty years of loving a man with all my heart, but denying him the opportunity to grieve, to mourn the passing of his only chance for a child.
Fresh tears welled up when I thought about not hearing his voice in my head during this investigation. I'd pleaded with him to talk to me, but he'd remained silent. It was my own guilt that had stifled his beloved voice.
I turned off the flashlight and closed my eyes. From my heart, I said, “I have plenty of excuses, Carl, but it all boils down to one fact. I was wrong to keep what happened from you. I knew it at the time, but I couldn't bear to see your sorrow. I couldn't take the chance that you might blame me. Please forgive me, so I can forgive myself.”
I concentrated, but I didn't hear his voice.
Dejected, I turned on the flashlight and walked on to Bailey's house. I stepped upon the porch and put the key in the lock. My birthday wish had been that I'd once again sense Carl in my soul. I knew it was ridiculous to feel at odds with the spirit of my dead husband, but I'd carried his memory in my
heart for so long, I felt abandoned all over again. Anticipating what he would say in any given situation had brought me an inner peace. I wasn't asking for a bolt of lightning to come out of the sky. All I wanted was a broad indication that he knew my regret.
I pushed open the door. The smell of raspberries almost knocked me over. The scent stirred old memories. Carl used to bring me fresh raspberries when I was feeling down. I flipped on the light and nearly fainted.

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