Authors: Teresa Hill
Stephen?
"Because he drove her out of town that day?"
"Well, there's that, of course." Carolyn nodded. "But I was thinking of the baby."
"The baby?" Allie said blankly.
"I wasn't sure if you knew." Carolyn hesitated. "Or if I should even bring it up, because it sounds like you and Stephen are... interested in each other, and I'd hate for old gossip to mess that up. I want you to know, I never believed it was Stephen's baby she was carrying."
Stephen's baby?
Allie couldn't say a word.
"Oh, Lord, I'm sorry," Carolyn said. "I can tell I've upset you, and honestly, that's the last thing I wanted to do. Megan always had a terrible crush on Stephen, and a lot of people swore it was his baby she was carrying when she left. But I always thought the two of them were just good friends."
Allie felt sick.
"She was pregnant?" Allie asked. "You're sure?"
Carolyn looked stricken. "I'm sorry. I just thought your mother would have told you or maybe that Megan did. I don't even know if that part was true. She looked different that summer. Quiet. Worried. Pale. I think she threw up at school one morning, but honestly that was probably all it took to start the rumor that she was pregnant."
"And people thought it was Stephen's baby."
Carolyn nodded. "Especially after he helped her get away. There was even some wild talk about him taking her off somewhere and getting rid of her. But all of that was nonsense. I could never believe Stephen would hurt her. They were friends. In fact, I think the only reason people speculated that the baby was his was because they never saw Megan with anyone else."
"Nobody?"
"Not that I remember," Carolyn said. "I'm sorry. Stephen didn't tell you any of this?"
"No."
Allie closed her eyes, her stomach churning. She'd slept with him. He'd been charming and kind and supportive, and she'd fallen for him, even though she'd known better. All along, she'd known. And he hadn't said a word about her sister carrying his baby.
"I can't believe this." Allie had to stop to breathe. "I can't believe he'd take Megan to Tennessee and just leave her there when she was carrying his child."
"Allie, this is just old gossip. Megan never said a word to me."
"I have to find out," Allie said, turning to look through the trees to the roof of Stephen's house.
"Ask him," Carolyn said. "If there's anyone left in town who should know, it's him."
Allie nodded. "I will."
She doubted she'd believe anything he had to say, but she would ask.
Chapter 14
She refused to think about Stephen at all. She couldn't. For now, she was thinking of this as simply one more clue about what might have happened to her sister. So, if Megan had been pregnant, it could explain the tension between Megan and their parents. It could explain her running away. But it didn't explain her
staying
away when she was pregnant and all alone.
Allie ran the numbers in her head. Megan ran away in September. If she ran away because she already knew she was pregnant and their parents reacted badly, she must have been two or three months along, couldn't have been more than four, maybe five. Because no one seemed sure she was pregnant, so she must not have been far enough along that it was obvious. She died in February, which meant she had to be close to giving birth, if she hadn't already at the time of her death.
Allie called Greg Malone first, to ask him to find out if Megan had been pregnant when she died.
"There's no mention of it in the autopsy report, Allie."
"You checked? Did you hear something about her being pregnant?"
"The questions came up after I got here. You hadn't said anything about the possibility of your sister being pregnant, but I found out there were two runaway girls in Macon that winter. One of them was pregnant. I'd ask around town if anyone remembered a runaway, and people would ask if I meant the pregnant one, or the other one. So I checked," he explained. "I would have said something to you, but I assumed that if you'd known, you would have told me. Besides, I had the autopsy report in front of me. It was simple enough to check. She wasn't pregnant."
"Oh." Allie had felt a reckless, irrational surge of hope when she'd first hit on the idea. Megan was pregnant, and apparently the girl who died wasn't. She would have loved to believe someone had made a terrible mistake all those years ago, that somehow her sister hadn't died.
Then she thought of one more possibility. "What if Megan had the baby already?"
"If she'd given birth recently, it would have shown up on the autopsy, Allie. I know," Greg said. "It was an issue in a case I had last year. I ran through a similar scenario with a coroner in Atlanta, and she explained that it takes a while for the internal organs to return to their normal size after pregnancy. If Megan had given birth before she died, it would have shown up on the autopsy and been noted in the written report. Sorry."
Allie said nothing. She couldn't.
"You're grasping at straws, right?" Greg asked. "You don't have any proof that she was ever pregnant?"
"No," Allie admitted. "Just old gossip."
"Don't do that to yourself, Allie. They found her body. Your father made the ID himself. She's gone. Let's just concentrate on finding out how and why it happened."
"Okay. I just..." She had other reasons for wanting to know if Megan was pregnant. She wanted to know if it was Stephen's baby. And if it wasn't Stephen's, whose was it? "It might play into what happened to her. It might lead us to someone who could tell us something...."
"You're reaching," Greg warned. "But let's run through the possibilities. She wasn't pregnant when she died. She hadn't given birth recently. I suppose it's possible she had an abortion or a miscarriage months before. You could try talking to your family doctor. Or school friends of hers. You could see if there's anything in the house. A diary. A doctor bill or an appointment card, anything like that."
Allie thanked him and tracked down the family doctor through Mr. Webster, who'd paid her father's final medical bills. The family practitioner who'd once treated her entire family said he knew nothing about her sister being pregnant. He also said for problems like that—an unmarried pregnant teenager—people in small towns didn't normally see their family doctor. A girl would likely go to one of the clinics in Lexington, where no one knew her. Which meant Allie hadn't really learned anything.
As she saw it, she could either call Mitch Wilson, if he'd talk to her, search her sister's room, or ask Stephen. What a choice. Walking into her sister's room for the first time in fifteen years. Talking to a man who thought her sister had been murdered. Or asking Stephen if her sister was carrying his baby when she left.
* * *
Stephen struck out with his brother. Rich had managed to dodge him once again. But he had found Mitch Wilson, who hadn't told him anything new. But just the man's reaction to the questions Stephen asked was enough to make Stephen even more concerned.
He was on his way back to Allie's when he spotted a boy walking down one of the side roads near her house. Allie's lost boy, he thought. A computer check of reports of missing children told them he was apparently only thirteen and from Birmingham, Alabama. A runaway, the deputy told him when he checked in a few minutes ago.
Stephen pulled off to the side of the road a few feet in front of the boy and got out of the vehicle.
Taking in the kid's ragged appearance, his expression a cross between sullen disinterest and out-and-out panic, Stephen said, "Don't you run away from me."
He was in no mood to chase the kid.
"What would you care if I did?" the kid mouthed off.
"I never said I would, but Allie does. She'd never forgive me if I got this close to you and lost you."
The kid looked unconvinced, but he didn't run. "You're a friend of Allie's?"
"You know who I am. You've been staying at her house, scaring her half to death by sneaking around in the attic. I'll tell you right now, I don't appreciate that one damned bit."
"What? Me bein' in her house?"
"I don't appreciate you frightening her," Stephen growled. "Did you think of that?"
"That's all we're going to talk about? Me bein' in her house?"
"To start with. Let's get that straight right now, okay?" Stephen grabbed the kid by the arms and pushed him up against the nearest tree. "You're not going to hurt her. You're not going to scare her. Not ever again. If you try, you'll answer to me."
"You think you own her or somethin'? Just because you spent the night with her?"
"I think it's none of your business what Allie and I do together, except that you understand I won't let you hurt her." Stephen glared at him, wondering if it was possible to intimidate a thirteen-year-old who thought he knew everything. "I'm bigger than you are. I'm stronger. I'm faster. And I know all three of the local judges. If I wanted to, I could have you locked up on a breaking-and-entering charge. Or I could have you on a plane on your way back to Birmingham. Tonight."
The bravado drained right out of the kid at that.
"Yeah." Stephen backed off and let the kid go. "We know who you are. The sheriff's trying to find you right now to send you back."
"So you want me gone, too?"
"All I'm saying is that I could get you out of this town tonight, if I wanted to," Stephen said. "But I may not do that. Allie wouldn't like it, and unlike some people, I happen to care about her. I don't want to do anything to upset her."
The kid finally lost a bit of his cockiness. "I like Allie. She's been okay to me. And I wasn't gonna hurt her."
"No, you're not. I'm going to make sure of that, and much as I hate to do it, I'm going to make you a deal. I can take you back to Allie's house or I can call the sheriff. You know what the sheriff's going to do with you. Allie will probably offer you a shower and a meal and a whole lot of sympathy. If you're straight with me and her about what's going on with you in Birmingham, she may not call the sheriff. She may try to help you herself instead."
"That's it? That's your deal?" Casey gaped at him. "I piss you off, I get shipped back to Birmingham."
"You were expecting a better offer?"
"Man, I don't believe you." Casey was so agitated he couldn't stand still. His chest was heaving, his weight shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. He practically danced with nervous energy. "You don't have anything else to say to me?"
Stephen had the feeling he'd walked in on a movie and missed the entire opening sequence. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he was starting to get a really funny feeling about this.
"Why don't you tell me what's going on here, Casey?"
"Why don't you tell me. Because I know who you are. You're Stephen Whittaker."
Stephen looked more closely at the mouthy kid. "Am I supposed to know you?"
"Hey, why would you?" Casey was nearly in tears. "If you don't want me here, at least have the guts to say so."
"If I don't want you here?"
"Yeah. Just say the word."
"Casey—"
"You really don't know?" the boy said.
"Know what?"
"I asked around about you today, after I heard your name. Everybody knows, so I don't see how you could not know."
"Know what?"
"Who I am."
Stephen looked the boy over carefully, head to toe. He needed a haircut. He was too skinny, his feet and his hands and his ears looked a mile too big for the rest of his body, but Stephen supposed that would all change in the next few years. The kid had blondish-brown hair and dark eyes, and there was something about that surly expression on his face that seemed familiar. Something cold and hard settled in the pit of Stephen's stomach.
"I don't want your money." Casey managed to look furious and hurt and terribly proud. "I don't want to stay at your house. Don't want to embarrass you or anything. You don't ever have to see me again. I just want one thing from you."
Stephen didn't so much as blink. "What's that?"
"I want to know if you're my father."
"What?"
Stephen whispered. He would have laughed if he hadn't seen how stricken the kid looked, how deadly serious, too.
"No more games, all right? No more lies. Just tell me."
Of all the things that could have come out of the kid's mouth, that was the last one Stephen expected. Still, there was something familiar about the boy.
"I don't have any children. I'm careful about things like that, and I don't walk away from my responsibilities," Stephen said, looking at the kid more closely, wondering if Casey had confused him with his brother. It wouldn't surprise Stephen at all to find out his brother had an illegitimate child running around somewhere. "Why don't you tell me why you think I'm your father?"
"People around town say you're the only one they ever saw my mother with that summer. So you must be the one."
Stephen braced himself, sure he wasn't going to like the answer. "Who's your mother, Casey?"