Page 18 of First Family


  “Played cards. Shopped. Lots of golf. Lunch. Gossip. The things retired ladies do.”

  “You never joined them?”

  “On occasion I did. But it was more a girl’s thing.”

  “Who was she going to see that night?”

  Again, he took another long moment to answer. If she were a gambler, Michelle would’ve wagered her father was about to tell her a lie.

  “Donna, at least I think. Dinner, I believe she said. I can’t be sure. Just said it in passing.”

  “Donna have a last name?”

  This time there was no long moment. “Why?” he shot back.

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to know Donna’s last name?”

  “Well, has anyone called her and told her that the reason Mom didn’t make it was because she was dead?”

  “I don’t care for your tone, little girl.”

  “Dad, I haven’t been a little girl for over twenty years.”

  He put down his spoon. “I called her. Okay? It’s not that big of a town anyway. She’d already heard.”

  “So it was Donna that Mom was going to see?”

  For an instant he looked confused, unsure of himself. “What? Yes, I think it was.”

  Michelle felt a wrenching pain in her chest. She rose, made a mindless excuse, and left the house. Outside, she phoned the only person she had ever allowed herself to really trust.

  Sean King had just landed at Washington Dulles.

  “I need you,” she said, after filling him in on what had happened.

  Sean went in search of a flight to Nashville.

  CHAPTER 32

  YOU COULD’VE KILLED YOURSELF,” snapped Quarry as he sat across from Willa back in her “cell.”

  “I’m a prisoner here and prisoners have to try and escape,” she said right back to him. “It’s their job. Like everybody knows that.”

  Quarry drummed his long, thick fingers on the tabletop. He’d confiscated Willa’s lock-picking tools and removed all the canned food too. He’d also had Daryl and Carlos install additional security on the door.

  “Who’s Diane?” Willa asked.

  “A lady,” Quarry said gruffly.

  “That I already know. Why is she here?”

  “None of your business.”

  He rose to leave.

  “Thank you, by the way.”

  Quarry turned looking surprised. “For what?”

  “You saved my life. But for you, I’d be at the bottom of that mountain.”

  “You’re welcome. But don’t try anything like that again.”

  “Can I see Diane again?”

  “Maybe.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you know? It’s a pretty simple request.”

  “Why do you ask so many questions when I’m not answering any of them?” Quarry said, evidently both frustrated and intrigued by the girl’s tenacity.

  “Because I keep hoping that sometime you will start answering them,” she said brightly.

  “You’re not like any little girl I ever met before. I take that back. You do remind me of somebody.”

  “Who?”

  “Just somebody.”

  He locked the door behind him and slid the thick board into place on the outside of the room. Even if Willa somehow managed to pick the lock once more, she would not be able to swing open the door.

  As he walked along he pulled the pieces of paper out of his pocket. These papers were the reason he had flown here today. He reached the door and knocked.

  Diane’s tremulous voice said, “Who is it?”

  “I need to talk to you,” he called through the door. “Are you decent? Cleaned up after your little trip outside?”

  “Yes.”

  He unlocked the door and walked in.

  Like Willa’s they’d set the space up with a cot, small table, a lantern, portable toilet, water and soap for bathing, canned food and water, and some clothes. Diane had exchanged the dirty clothes she had been wearing when trying to escape with another pair of slacks and a white blouse.

  Quarry closed the door behind him. “I just talked to Willa.”

  “Please don’t hurt her for what she did.”

  “I’m not planning on hurting her.” He added in a grim tone, “Unless you two pull something like that again. There’s no way out of here even if you do get out of the mine.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He sat down at the table and held up the pieces of paper. “This is why.” He nodded to the only other chair in the room. “You want to sit down?”

  “I want to go home.”

  “You need to look at this.”

  Gathering her courage, Wohl moved forward slightly. “If I do will you let me go?” Her voice was pleading, her eyes filling with tears. It was as though she desperately wanted to hear something from him that would allow for her eventual freedom.

  “Well, I’m not going to keep you here much longer, that’s for sure.”

  “Why did you bring me here? And Willa?”

  “I needed you both,” Quarry said simply. “None of what I need to do was gonna happen without you.” He held up the papers. “I sent the blood I took from you in to a place that ran a bunch of tests on it. DNA tests. I could’ve just done a swab from inside your cheek but my reading on the subject made me believe working with the blood was just as good if not better. I didn’t want any mistakes.”

  “DNA?”

  “Yeah. Like fingerprints, only better. They use it all the time to get folks off Death Row that’re innocent.”

  “I’ve committed no crimes.”

  “Never said you did.” He looked at the pieces of paper, silently reading off the results again. “But you did give birth to a little girl twelve years ago. Gave birth but then you gave her up. Did you enjoy seeing her again today?”

  The blood drained from Diane’s face. “What are you talking about?”

  “Willa is your daughter. Willa Dutton she’s called now. She just celebrated her twelfth birthday. Her mom’s name is Pam Dutton. Her adoptive mom, I mean. I had Mrs. Dutton’s blood checked too just in case yours didn’t match. But it did. And so did Willa’s. You are, without no doubt at all, her ma.”

  “That’s impossible,” she said dully, her voice barely able to form the words.

  “You got pregnant, had the baby, and then the Duttons adopted it.” He waved the papers in the air. “DNA don’t lie, lady.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she said, her voice low, but panicky.

  “I got my reasons.” He stood. “Would you like to see your daughter again?”

  Wohl put a hand against the tabletop to steady herself. “What?” she gasped.

  “I know you two just got acquainted, but I thought you might want to see her again now that you know.”

  She glanced at the papers. “I don’t believe you.”

  He handed the pages across to her. “I had them put it in language folks like me could understand. The top batch test is Willa’s. The one under that is yours. Read the result line.”

  She took the papers and read them slowly. “Ninety-nine point nine percent match for mother and child,” she said dully.

  She threw the papers down and screamed, “Who are you!”

  “It’s a long story and not one I’m willing to share with you. Do you want to see the girl or not?”

  Wohl was already shaking her head, whipping it back and forth.

  Quarry looked down at her with a curious mixture of sympathy and disgust. “You coulda kept the child. Guess I kind of understand why you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I agree with it. Children are precious. Got to hang on to’em. I learned that lesson the hard damn way.”

  Wohl straightened up. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you have no right to judge me.”

  “If I were the judgmental type, maybe you’d already be dead.”

  This remark caused Wohl to drop to he
r knees, curl into a tight ball, and start sobbing.

  Quarry bent down, picked up the DNA reports where she’d dropped them, and stood there watching her. “Last chance to see the girl,” he finally said.

  A minute passed. Finally, Wohl said, “Does… does she have to see me?”

  “Ma’am, you two already met.”

  “But I didn’t know she was my daughter,” Wohl shot back. Then she added calmly, “I didn’t know… I was her mother.”

  “Okay, I can see that.”

  Diane had a sudden thought. “Oh my God, does she know I’m her mother?”

  “No. I saw no reason to tell her.’Cause you’re not the one who raised the girl.”

  “Do you know this Pam Dutton?”

  “Never met her.”

  “But do you know if she’s been good to Willa?”

  “You telling me you didn’t know the woman before you gave your daughter to her?”

  “It wasn’t that way. I really didn’t have a choice.”

  “Everyone has a choice.”

  “So can I see her without her seeing me?”

  “I got a way. If you’re willing.”

  Wohl rose on unsteady legs. “I’d like to see her.” Somehow this admission came out as a guilty confession.

  “Give me a couple minutes.”

  Diane rushed forward and clutched at his arm. “You’re not going to do anything that will hurt her?”

  Quarry slowly removed the woman’s fingers from his sleeve. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Five minutes later he returned and held the door open for her. She looked at it fearfully, as though if she walked through it she would never be coming back.

  Sensing this Quarry said, “I give you my word, I’ll take you to see the girl and then I’ll bring you back here.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we’ll just have to see. Can’t promise you any more than that.”

  CHAPTER 33

  QUARRY REMOVED the board from metal hooks driven deep into the wall, opened the door, and motioned Wohl inside.

  “Where is she?”

  He pointed to his left. “Over there.”

  Wohl spun around and stared at a small lump under the blanket on a cot against one wall. Quarry lifted off the blanket. Underneath Willa lay there, sleeping.

  Wohl crept closer. “What if she wakes up?”

  “I gave her something to knock her out. Good hour or so. She looks like you,” said Quarry quietly. “In the nose, the chin. You can’t see her eyes, but they’re the same color as yours.”

  Wohl involuntarily nodded. She could see the resemblance too. “Willa Dutton. That’s a pretty name.”

  “You didn’t name her?”

  “No. I knew I was giving her up so I didn’t… I mean I couldn’t.”

  Wohl stroked the girl’s dark hair. She looked back at Quarry. “You’re not going to hurt her.”

  “She’s not the one at fault here. Neither are you, really.”

  “But you said before—”

  “There are degrees of guilt.”

  “So who…”

  “Did you want to give her up?”

  “I said I didn’t have a choice.”

  “And like I told you before, folks always have a choice.”

  “Can I hold her?”

  “Go on.”

  Wohl put her arms around Willa’s shoulders. She touched her face, nestled her cheek against the girl’s, and finally gave her a kiss on the forehead.

  “What do you remember about the adoption?”

  “Not much. I was only twenty.”

  “And the daddy?”

  “None of your business.”

  “So you just gave her up?”

  “Yes.” She gazed at him. “I had no money. I was still in college. I couldn’t care for her.”

  “So they took her off your hands. And your life turned out okay,” said Quarry. “You finished college, got a good job. Married, but then got divorced. Never had any more children.”

  “How do you know all this about me?”

  “I’m not a real smart man. But I work hard. And I needed to know about you. So I did.”

  “And what are you doing all this for?”

  “None of your business.”

  Wohl turned back to Willa when the girl started moaning a little bit.

  “Is she waking up?” she asked fearfully.

  “Just dreaming in her sleep. But let’s head on back.”

  After returning to her room Wohl said, “How much longer will I be kept here?”

  “If I had an answer to that I’d give it to you, but I don’t.”

  “And Willa?”

  “The same.”

  “You said Pam was her adopted mother’s name?”

  “That’s right.”

  “She must be terribly worried.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Quarry.

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s dead.”