Deadly Secrets

  Chapter 12

  Dana and Missy had either watched from the window and had seen Heath depart, or they had listened for the sound of the door as it clicked shut. I knew this because I had barely laid my head against the frame when here they came to gossip and plunder.

  Missy stirred her Bellini which she had already started to drink, and Dana stood and looked at me through eyes wide with shock and a bit of hurt. I sighed and pulled myself up to face them. I held up a hand to halt their questions even though they had yet to be voiced. I could read the questions as clear as day in their eyes and in their body language. They wanted to know, “Who was that man? How long had we been seeing each other?” And most importantly, I suspect, “Why had I kept him a secret from my two best friends?”

  I led the way back into the kitchen and pulled the trays of snacks out of the refrigerator and set them on the table. I grabbed crackers, added them to the spread, and poured myself a Bellini as Dana and Missy both already had their drinks in hand. Then I sat back down at the table, pushed back the hair that was falling in my face, and looked at them. In a voice that I barely recognized as mine, I managed to whisper, “That was Heath Brandon.”

  Dana gasped, “Oh, my GOD!”

  Missy was more eloquent than Dana. “You were right, Miranda; he is totally a hunk. How could you keep him a secret from us?”

  I shook my head, “I didn’t.”

  I felt the punch of two unhappy gazes. Dana’s voice was the one to challenge me, no surprise there what with her direct manner and sassy attitude. “Oh come on, Miranda! Save that bullshit for someone who didn’t see the two of you practically having sex on the living room sofa!”

  I groaned, and my face flushed; with an all too vivid reminder of just what Heath and I had been doing mere moments ago. I drew in a deep shaky breath and tried again to explain. “That’s not what I meant.” I paused to collect myself, took a fortifying drink, and forged on. “You see I was rather surprised to see Heath as I’ve not seen him in years. Not since shortly after Sam was born.”

  Missy set her glass down with a thud. “Then what the hell was going on in there? Are you telling me that you went from a friendly how have you been to jumping his bones on a first, or rather not even a first date?”

  If it was possible, I turned an even darker shade of crimson. I was ashamed of my behavior when I looked at the facts. However, when I looked at the feelings, I couldn’t find any fault in myself or in Heath for our hasty actions. “Yes, that’s exactly what I am saying. I was going upstairs to grab a shower before you two showed up when the doorbell rang. I started to ignore it, but the bell just kept pealing, so I answered it, and there was Heath.”

  Dana’s voice butted into my story, “So did he grab you then and just start kissing you?”

  I rolled my eyes; leave it to Dana the detective to dig for facts, “No, he did not; that would have been ungentlemanly. I invited him in, got us a drink, and we sat down on the sofa for a friendly chat. It seems that he’d heard about my fiasco on the Fourth, and he came by to see how I’m doing and to see if all the rumors were true.”

  Missy raised a finger to halt my blabbering. “Since he’s a police detective, wouldn’t he have already had all the facts he needed?”

  I considered her question and then thought back to what Heath had said to me. “I’m not sure that he’s a cop anymore, Missy. When he was talking to me, he said he was a cop long enough to know how to get the lowdown.”

  Dana picked up on that and ran with it. “So he was basically saying that he wasn’t a cop anymore. What’s he doing then?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know. That was kind of where we started making out.”

  Missy rubbed her hands together, all eagerness to hear the details. “Okay, we are at the good part, so what happened? Is he a good kisser? Are you seeing him again?”

  I chuckled in spite of myself; it had been a long time since the three of us had discussed romance and men. Missy was happily settled, Dana was on a dating moratorium, and I had given up on men as a species for my own mental health. “Well, let me say, girls, that I am out of practice with romance, but Heath rocked my world with just a few kisses. Hell, I didn’t even hear the door when the two of you came in.”

  Dana and Missy looked at each other and shared a private joke moment. I glanced from one smiling face to the other in confusion, “What gives?”

  Missy turned her amused stare on me and giggled, “Miranda, you’ve got it bad. Not only did you not hear us come in, but we were having a rather loud and racy conversation about needing to get drunk tonight and get laid.”

  If possible, my face burned even brighter, I was sure that my embarrassment would give me lasting sunburn at this rate. “Oh, well. As I said, Heath is quite a good kisser and his hands……” My voice trailed off, and Missy and Dana leaned forward trying to encourage me to continue.

  Dana slapped her hand down on the table top. “Come on, ‘Randa! Don’t leave me hanging like this. You know, I don’t have any romance or sex to report, and I haven’t for some time now! Throw me a bone, for lands sakes!!

  I shook my head. “Okay, Okay! You know me; both of you know me. You know what I went through with Flynn. You know that I have focused my life on Sam and building the two of us a home, but Heath makes me want to include him in our lives. Not just because I’m attracted to him, but because he matters to me.” I rested my head in my hands and whispered in a low voice, “He has always mattered to me.”

  Dana and Missy looked at each other and then looked at me. Both reached out and took one of my hands so that we sat there at my kitchen table together hands linked in a circle of friendship that had been forged over the years through pain, grief, and joy.

  We had no secrets from each other. I was an only child to my parents, but I knew in my heart that Missy and Dana were my sisters. As I basked in their friendship and understanding, I wondered if I could find the strength to love a man as the woman I had become. I had loved, and that had been a disaster, but that had also been the love of a girl for a boy. Could I now find the courage to love a man? The idea was frightening because I suspected that to love as a woman could be more soul shattering and perhaps would be something I could never recover from. Flynn had left me disillusioned, and the rose colored glasses of youth had been cast aside. However, I sensed in my heart that Heath could do far more damage but also bring far more joy.

  I smiled weakly, “How about we talk about something else?”

  Dana looked uncomfortable. “Okay, Miranda, how about we talk about what I know you have been dying to ask me?”

  I tried for a look of innocence. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Dana. I always love talking to you, but there is nothing pressing right now.”

  Dana snorted. “Cut the crap! I know that you know about my case.”

  Though it went against the grain with me, I continued to play dumb. “What case, Dana? I thought you were working on a missing person case right now.”

  I could see she was getting irritated. “You do realize, Miranda, that a Private Investigator can investigate more than one case at a time, don’t you?”

  That did it. I couldn’t look any more naïve. “Come on, Dana, of course, I know that! I’m giving you a hard time because it took you long enough to come to me with this!”

  Dana had the grace to look embarrassed. “What was I supposed to do? Your mom and Marcus hired me! There is such a thing as confidentiality.”

  I shared a meaningful glance with Missy. “I understand that, Dana. How about we call a truce and work together. After all, if I am involved in something, it would follow that I would know the most about the situation.”

  Dana snorted. “There is so much illogic in that logic that I am awestruck. However, I do think some information sharing is in order. Well, I know I have some information that I want to share, and it sounds like you know some things that I might not.”

  I grinned, “You bet your bottom dollar
I do! You go first.”

  “All right, you two already know how I got this job. And believe me, if my friend wasn’t in danger, I would never have taken this case. I mean, come on, there are no leads to anything.”

  Missy and I smiled at her to show our confidence in her abilities.”I know you found something, Dana; you’re just too good a detective to be left in the dark for long,” Missy answered.

  “That is true, and the only reason I have anything to report is my tenacity. What I found was in the paper work from the police reports. The records stated that a white film had been found outside the house in a footprint off to the side of the walkway. At the time, the police did not feel that it was significant in the case. I mean it could have been any print. Of course, they cast a mold, but they did nothing but collect the mysterious white film.”

  “What information could you have gotten from some white residue that the police never analyzed?” I asked.

  Dana settled back in her chair basking in her triumph. “Well, if the residue had been anything else, it would have been a fool’s errand. However, I have a contact at the police station who let me in to look through the evidence. When we came to the bag with the powder, we opened it to see if it had any special odors. It seemed familiar to us both, so we did a simple test. You’ll never guess what it was.”

  Missy and I were on the edge of our seats. “Come on, Dana, spill it,” Missy begged.

  “Okay, ten years is long enough to wait for an answer. It was heroine. Testing for heroine is simple now. We used a basic test kit, and it came back positive. I’m thinking that changes the importance of that footprint. As far as I can see, Mrs. Grace did not have any dealing with people who frequented heroine dens.”

  I was shocked and momentarily speechless. “So you think the print definitely belongs to her killer.”

  “Yep. No doubt about it in my mind. And here is part two of my discovery. The footprint that they discounted was an imprint of a woman’s shoe - size 7.”

  “Wow, that is something, Dana. You just narrowed our killer down to a woman involved in the drug trade. That is more that the police have been able to do in ten years. Maybe what we learned can help you even more. Though in light of the woman thing, part of our information is probably no good.”

  “Well, tell me what you’ve got, and we can go from there.”

  I nodded, “Okay. First, it occurred to both Missy and me when we were talking about the night of the murder that I had no idea where Flynn was that night. He was supposed to be out with the boys, but he did not come home before I left for the hospital. He never called me to see why I wasn’t home which leads me to believe that he was not home at all that night.”

  Dana pulled out her notebook and made a few notes. “I’ll look into it, Miranda. You know as well as I do after preparing for the divorce hearing that he might have been with a woman that night…all night.”

  “I know that, Dana, and I understand, but given the circumstance I want all loose ends tied up in a nice, neat bow.”

  “I can’t say as I blame you, Miranda. Okay, tell me what else you found out.”

  Missy looked confused. “There’s more, Miranda?”

  I grinned sheepishly, “Yeah, I am sorry this is the first you both are hearing of this, but things have been crazy. When I went to see Mike about starting the renovations, he asked me if I could give him the name of the company who had worked on the electrical and plumbing for Nana. Of course, I said yes. Well, I just learned a few days ago from Mike that the company does not exist anymore. Both the partners are dead.”

  Dana stopped me there to ask a question. “So is something wrong with the house?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think anything is wrong with it. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me explain. Strange occurrence number one: Richard Clements disappeared aboard his cabin cruiser four months after working on my Grandmother’s house. Strange occurrence number two: His partner, Seamus Dean was killed in a fatal car accident 6 months later.”

  Dana was scribbling away in her notebook again. “That is strange. Let me get my head around this…as strange as it sounds, you believe their deaths are tied to their work on this house.”

  “Yes. It makes a strange sort of sense to me. If I am in danger because of Grandma Hannigan’s murder, then the only common link between us other than blood is this house.”

  Dana tapped her pen against her pad. “That does follow when you look at it from a certain point of view. Did you learn anything about these men’s office space?”

  “I sure did. Mike found out that Dean’s surviving brother sold the building and its contents to an international firm specializing in equities.”

  Dana frowned. I looked at Missy and saw her unhappy expression too. “Okay, someone please tell me what the two of you realize that I don’t!”

  Missy looked at me then. “It’s not a revelation or anything, Miranda; but usually when Mitchell mentions equity firms, it is in a bad way.”

  “Huh? I am still in the dark here.”

  Dana leaned forward as if she planned to confide a secret. “What she means is that the equities market is often the politically correct term for businesses that have shady dealings.”

  I gasped. “Like drugs?”

  Dana nodded. “Yes, like drugs, guns, mercenaries, and other black-market merchandise. This could be a tie to that footprint. I’ll check it out, but for now I want you to forget about it and leave the detective work to me.”

  “Why?”

  Dana sighed exhausted from explaining the details I was sure, “Because if the killer is tied to the accidents of those two men and this company, then they have no problem killing people who stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

  “Oh, well, then you have my word, but, Dana, what about your nose?”

  Later that night as I settled into my bed in a house that was far too silent with Sam away from home, I had to wonder at my decision to skim over the facts about Heath with my friends. Had that been a wise decision? I shrugged my shoulder, had anything about this night with Heath Brandon been sane, or had I finally gone around the loony bend?

  I sighed out my frustration and sank lower into my covers. Surely what I needed was a sound night’s sleep, and in the morning, things would look better or at least less complicated than they did at present.

  I reached out and switched off my bedside lamp. The room was plunged instantly into darkness. The sheets and bedding covered me and created a cocoon of warmth and security. With a whispered prayer of thanks and an entreaty for the safety of family and friends, I ended my day and slipped into slumber.

  I had no idea if the dreams came right away or later into the night. All I know is that the dreams came with a sudden ferocity that matched the storm that I relived. My belly was heavy with child and a storm raged outside of my living room window. The house was dark except for a small lamp that burned near the sofa. I sat there in the shadows of the feeble light as I watched the storm rage outside the window.

  The thunder boomed and shook the house with its recoil. My heart thudded in my chest; I loved nights like this. The lightening ripped through the sky as if to pierce the hearts of those who refused to respect the power of the storm, the power of God.

  I shivered, not from the cold or from fear, but from the power and the excitement that coursed through my veins. This was a powerful storm, a powerful storm created by a powerful God, a God who loved me despite the mess that I had made of my life. I rubbed a hand over my distended belly, and a smile warmed my lips. A God who had given me a miracle when I believed my spirit was tainted and broken.

  A burst of lightening flashed in the sky again and temporarily illuminated the room. On nights like tonight, I felt closest to God. Many would say that my words were sacrilegious, but tonight my living room was my chapel. As I sat there and watched the storm’s wrath, I worshiped God’s power, His majesty, and His ability to love those who broke His hea
rt. My human heart could not love like His nor could I forgive like Him.

  The rumbled of thunder shook the house, and I felt the vibrations fill my body as well. Then with no warning, pain sliced through me. I doubled over and grabbed my belly. I breathed through the pain just as I had been taught; thankfully the pain was short lived. Over the last week, I had experienced birthing pain, but I knew instinctively that this pain was different. I was in labor; tonight, Sam would be born.

  I picked up the phone; I had to call someone to help me. Flynn was out tonight with friends, so I was alone here. Should I call Flynn or just dial my parents? I wanted my mother with me, but I knew I needed to give Flynn the chance to be here with me despite his disinterest in being a father. I dialed his cell, but it went straight to voicemail. I left him a brief message that cut straight to the point. “Flynn, I’m having contractions. I need some help, please call me.”

  I hung up and waited. My heart skipped a beat. I began to be nervous as I weathered the contractions alone, but I tried to reassure myself as the minutes ticked by. Surely Flynn would check his messages. He knew that I was due any day now. He would call. He would come. He would not leave me alone in this, would he? My heart skipped another beat. I swallowed the metallic taste of fear in my throat that told me; I already knew the truth. The truth was that Flynn had left me long ago; I was alone.

  When the pains increased, I gave up hope that Flynn would change his mind about our marriage, about our family, and called my parents. No one was home, so I left a desperate message on their machine, “Mom! Dad! I’m in labor, and I’m alone. I need you, please come, please call!” I hung up the phone and laid my head in my hand and prayed, “Oh, Lord, please send me someone to hold me, to love me, to help me.”

  When no help came, I called 911. An operator came over the live and asked, “911, what is your emergency?”

  A contraction hit me, and I groaned into the phone. I breathed through it and managed to answer in a voice that was cloaked in pain, “I’m in labor; I need help.”

  “Ma’am, are you there alone? Is anyone with you?”

  “No one else is here. I tried to reach my husband and my parents, but I couldn’t get anyone.”

  “Okay, ma’am, don’t panic. I’m dispatching an ambulance to your location right now. Stay on the line with me.”

  I doubled over in pain again. “All right,” I gasped.

  “Ma’am, are you experiencing contractions?”

  I laughed without mirth. “Yes, I would definitely say so, operator.”

  “How far apart are they?”

  “They are coming about ever three and a half minutes right now.” I answered with the little strength that I had left.

  “Are the contractions getting stronger, ma’am?”

  I nodded though I knew she could not see me. “Yes, they are much worse now than they were earlier.”

  “Okay, ma’am, the ambulance is only a few minutes away from your location. Just hang in there. We’ll get you to the hospital in plenty of time.”

  Though I doubted her words, her confident tone helped to ease my panic. Her voice kept me anchored. Even though I was alone in the house, I was not alone in these moments. I chuckled, “Believe me, I’m hanging. I don’t even think I can get to the door unless I crawled.”

  “No need for that, ma’am, at least not yet, but the paramedics will need to be able to get inside. Do you think you can get to the door to unlock it?”

  “The door is unlocked. I unlocked it earlier when the pain was not so bad. Could you tell the paramedics to come right in? I don’t think I can meet them at the door.” I admitted.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll relay the message. Hold on for me.” The line went silent for a moment, and then the operator came back on the line. “No need to worry, dear; they’ll come right in. In fact, they are pulling up right now.”

  A knock sounded on the front door. It opened to reveal two male EMTs who proceeded to enter the house. I had never been so glad to see anyone until I saw the man who came in behind them. He wore an EMT jacket also, but I knew his face. I smiled and told the operator, “They’re here. I’m in good hands now. Thank you.”

  “Good luck, ma’am.” And then the line went dead. I dropped the phone unconcerned about where it landed. One of the EMTs rushed over to me and began to assess my vital signs. My eyes remained glued to familiar kind eyes as I remarked in a breathless voice, “Well, well, Officer Brandon, we have got to stop meeting like this.”

  He took my hand as I was wheeled by him on the emergency gurney and walked with me to the ambulance parked at the curb. He leaned close to my ear and whispered for my hearing only, “You may be right, Miranda, but it’s still good to see you.”

  The ride to the hospital was short, but it seemed interminable. Wave after wave of contractions assaulted my body. The pain was more than I believed that I could bear, but through it all, Heath held onto my hand. His steady voice gave me confidence and helped to calm my fears.

  When we arrived at the hospital, I was wheeled into the ER and quickly admitted to the maternity ward of the hospital. The obstetrician on call that night was Dr. Cooper. He was a member of the practice that I had visited which was both a positive and comforting omen for me. The EMTs left me in charge of the hospital staff, but Heath Brandon still held fast to my hand. The staff assumed that he was my husband, and neither of us corrected that erroneous assumption.

  We were alone in the room now as we waited for nature to do the work to bring my son into the world. I turned my head so that I could look at Heath. I was sure that I looked worse for the wear to say the least, but Heath looked as wonderful as he always had. His hair was still short and dark. His skin bore evidence of a tan that said he had spent time out of doors recently, and his eyes were the same arresting shade of bluish grey. I smiled weakly, “I’m sorry about all this.”

  He smiled displaying a flash of straight, white teeth, “Not your fault. We seem to run into each other at the worst possible times.”

  I nodded feebly. “I know, but the worst times in my life are the times that I need you the most Heath.” I drew a breath for courage and continued in a voice that wobbled with emotion. “Thank you for staying with me. Most men wouldn’t, especially since I am in labor.”

  Heath gazed at me with a strange gleam in his eyes, “I’m not most men, Miranda. I thought you might have noticed that by now.”

  I sighed in longing. “I did notice Heath. I have noticed and remembered everything about you. It just didn’t seem like a good time to mention it to you.”

  Heath shrugged his massive shoulders. “No time like the present,” he remarked.

  I shook my head, “You mean the present where I’m still married to a man that I don’t love, a man who does not love me or the child that I am carrying.” Hysteria bubbled up and overflowed from me in slightly crazed laughter, “That sounds right to you?”

  It was Heath’s turn to sigh. He squeezed my hand, “It sounds complicated, Miranda, but anytime with you seems like the right time to me.”

  And as I relived Sam’s birth in my dreams, it was still Heath Brandon, who stayed with me as I gave birth to my son. I knew with certainty that was the way that Providence had always intended it to be. Heath held my hand and helped me to breathe and push when the time came. He held me in his embrace as I looked upon my child for the first time, and Heath held us both as the doctor laid Sam in my arms. I looked from Sam’s small red, wrinkled face to Heath’s strong bronze countenance; my heart clenched and shifted. In those brief moments, Heath Brandon had taken my heart, and Sam owned my soul. Yet, somehow, I was at peace with that, and then my dreams floated into nothingness. I dreamed no more.