Guilt was an uncomfortable bedfellow. Matt hadn’t been able to sleep all night. What was he going to do? The answers were no clearer when the new day got under way.
He glanced at his daughter in the seat beside him. She was more important than anyone else in his life. How could he thrust her into such a terrible situation?
“Why do I have to visit Grandma Trudy, Daddy? She doesn’t like me.” Caitlin kicked her feet back and forth in the seat. She looked cute in the dress she’d worn to church, a pink lacy number Gina had picked out.
“It’s our duty, Caitlin. Duty is important. We don’t always feel like doing it, but some things we have to do anyway.”
“I thought we were going to see Aunt Gina. I get to stay with her, don’t I? I don’t have to stay at Grandma Trudy’s?”
“No, you don’t have to stay there.” He wasn’t keen on leaving her with Gina either. She ’d stayed with him two days, then Blake had sweet-talked her home. She and Blake were likely still fighting, but at least they’d protect Caitlin. He didn’t know another place to leave her where Hannah wouldn’t stumble into seeing her.
Matt drove out County Road 100E to the narrow lane that led to Trudy’s big farmhouse. He parked behind her old car, more rusty than blue these days. A chair with one rocker missing tilted on the porch by the fly-speckled picture window. The porch swing hung crazily at an angle. He ’d fixed it last month, but it looked as though the chain had broken again and she ’d hooked it up on the next link. He should probably replace all of it. The house was a never-ending money pit, but Trudy refused to move into something easier to care for in town. She wasn’t poor by any stretch of the imagination, but she hated to “waste” money on the house.
Ajax woofed in the backseat and pawed at the door handle. “Hold on,” Matt muttered. Glancing at the house as he let the dog out, he wondered if Trudy was home. No light shone through the darkened windows. He hoped the old lady hadn’t fallen or something, though she was active and spry for seventy-two. She belonged to several clubs in town and drove herself every-where in that old beater car.
Ajax beat him and Caitlin to the door. The scent of last year’s roses lingered around the entry. Pressing the doorbell, he listened to it ding on the other side. There was no answer, so he dug out his key and opened the door.
The odor of stale air and dusty carpet greeted him. “Trudy?” he called, pushing past the dog. “Stay here, Caitlin.” He didn’t want his daughter to see anything out of place, and the dog would protect her. Shards of glass from a picture frame crunched under his shoes. The frame lay faceup, the photo ripped from it. He struggled to remember what had been in it, but the memory wouldn’t surface.
Alarm jangled along his nerves when Trudy still didn’t answer his call. He went into the living room. An upended coffee table barred his path to the living room. “Trudy?” he called again.
He heard a soft groan, then saw the movement of a foot barely showing from behind the sofa. Moving it out of the way, he found the older woman on her stomach. He knelt and touched her shoulder. “Trudy?” She groaned again and tried to get up. “Don’t move. I’ll call an ambulance.” He fumbled to get his cell phone off his belt.
“No, no, I’m fine,” she muttered. “Help me up, boy.” Her tone was sharp and peremptory. She got to her hands and feet and shook her head as though to clear it.
He grabbed her arm and helped her to her feet. She was a large woman, nearly six feet tall and normally as straight and erect as a general. And just as used to being obeyed. A goose egg was forming on her forehead, red and oozing with blood. She swayed where she stood, and he helped her to the sofa.
She flinched when he touched her head. “Leave it, Matthew. I’m fine.” She managed a smile. “Decided you’d been neglecting the old lady a bit? A visit twice in one week. Guilt is a wasted emotion. Get over it.”
A strange remark from her when she was such a master at inducing it. “Who did this?”
She waved her hand. Her face was already beginning to regain its color. “Kids looking for drugs, I expect.”
“You didn’t see anyone?”
“Just a noise, and I went to investigate and slipped. Guess I hit my head in the fall.”
He curled his fingers into his palms. “I’ll see what I can find. We need to call in backup.”
“I don’t want a bunch of lawmen running around my house.” She smiled up at him. “Present company excluded, of course.” Her color was coming back. “Quit fussing—I’m fine. I’m not filing a complaint. What have you been up to?”
“Hang on, let me get Caitlin.” He went to the door and called his daughter inside. She had her head down and wouldn’t look at him. “Say hello to your grandmother,” he whispered. “Be nice.”
Her steps dragged, but she went ahead of him into the living room. “Hi, Grandma.”
Trudy’s gaze went to the backpack Caitlin carried. “Are you planning on staying, child?”
“No, she ’s spending a few days with Gina. I didn’t realize she had it with her.” He glanced down at Caitlin. “You can put that back, princess.”
Caitlin smiled and went back outside, and Matt knew she ’d brought it so she could take it out. It was hard being under Trudy’s stern stare—he should know. Still, the woman meant well. She’d taught him discipline, and he was thankful for that.
“Let me take you to the doctor, Trudy. You might need stitches.”
“I’ll put a comfrey compress on it. I’m fine. Why is she staying with Gina?” Trudy asked as soon as the screen door slammed.
He couldn’t tell anyone the full story—especially not Trudy. “I’m going to be working a lot of hours, and it seems easier.” The lie rolled off his tongue too easily, but he wasn’t about to tell Trudy that Caitlin might be Hannah’s daughter. “Want me to fix you some tea?”
She ignored his offer. “Why are you working so many hours? What will you be doing?”
“Searching for the person who killed Moe Honegger.” Her gaze sharpened when he said the name. “Have you thought of any new details? You didn’t mention the other day whether you knew him or not.”
“It’s pretty hard not to. I’ve bought all my flowers and plants at the greenhouse for years.”
“I hear you knew the Schwartzes. At least Hannah’s mom.” Trudy hadn’t attended the funeral, he remembered. But then, why would she go? Their contact had been broken decades ago.
“Again, I frequent the greenhouse. But where did you hear I knew Patricia?”
“Hannah Schwartz told me.”
Her hand stopped its movement, then continued when Ajax whined outside the front door. “You mean Hannah O’Connor. Where ’d you see her?”
“She’s here in town. She and Reece are separated.”
“Have you seen Reece?”
She had a blind spot where Reece was concerned. In her mind he could do no wrong. It wasn’t Matt’s place to spoil her fantasy, though. “He ’s here too. Somewhere around.”
“Maybe he’ll stop and see me. I’ve seen her picture. She looks like a sweet girl.”
“How did you know Patricia?”
“She was at the house to see Irene all the time.”
“What was she like?” Maybe if he understood the dynamics more, he ’d be better able to figure this out.
Trudy touched the swelling goose egg on her forehead. “Pretty. Vivacious. All the boys liked her. But once she met Abe, she wanted no one else.”
“How’d she meet Abe Schwartz?”
“He worked at your grandfather’s lumberyard, and they’d also gone to school together, back before there was a dedicated Amish school. Irene introduced him to Patricia.” She rubbed her head again. “Gina’s so busy. You can leave Caitlin with me.”
“It’s already arranged with Gina. Besides, you said you weren’t up to taking kids anymore.”
“I know my duty.”
It hurt that she cared for Caitlin no more than she’d cared for Matt—out of a loveless sense of du
ty. It was something, but it wasn’t enough.
“We ’ve got the arrangements made, but thanks anyway. Are you sure I can’t run you to the doctor?”
“I’m fine. Don’t be a stranger, Matthew.”
“I won’t.” He left her with a sense of relief. Caitlin was ready to go. She hopped in and fastened her seat belt. He put Ajax in the back of the SUV.
“How long am I staying at Aunt Gina’s?” Caitlin asked.
“Maybe a week.” A lifetime when he craved time with her. He just had to get things sorted out with Reece and Hannah. Find some proof that Caitlin didn’t belong to them.
ALL DAY SUNDAY Hannah moped around the house. She would have liked to attend the Amish service, but no one invited her. Maybe it was better that way. The bishop might have expected her to confess.
On Monday Hannah found herself looking at the picture and beginning to think of the little girl as her own. Dangerous ground. But there was something in the child’s sweet gaze that drew her. If only she could talk to her aunt. She ’d tried to stop by this morning, but no one was home. She ’d been in town five days and still had no leads.
She put the picture on the coffee table when she heard a knock at the door. It was probably Asia. “Don’t eat it,” she told Ajax. The dog grunted. He was pinned in place by four cats lying on top of him anyway. When Matt said he ’d leave the dog with them for protection, she ’d expected trouble, but Ajax was a perfect lamb.
She went to the door just as it rang again, two impatient peals in quick succession. Asia would have called out to her. Peeking through the peep-hole, she saw a woman on the steps. About thirty with long raven hair and eyes as blue as a robin’s egg. The V-neck top she wore showed a long tanned throat swathed in pearls. Her expression revealed just as much irritation as her trigger finger.
Hannah opened the door. The woman’s eyes widened, and her mouth pressed into a thin line. Her gaze traveled from Hannah’s tight bun to her shapeless skirt and flat shoes. “Who are you?” she demanded.
“I’m, um, I’m renting this house. I had the dead bolt locked.”
The woman dismissed her with a jut of her chin. “I need to pick up a few things.” She started past Hannah, who stood her ground. “Excuse me? I need to get past.”
“I think you’d better tell me who you are first.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I’m Matt’s sister-in-law, okay? I left some things in the attic I need. I used to rent this dump.”
Hannah thrust her hand into the pocket of her skirt and withdrew her cell phone. She ’d programmed Matt’s cell number into it.
He answered on the first ring. “Hannah, everything okay?”
“Well, your sister-in-law is here.”
“Vanessa? What’s she want?” He growled the words.
“She says she left some things in the attic and needs them.” Hannah glanced at Vanessa, who stood tapping one high-heeled foot on the porch. She had her arms crossed over her chest.
“Let me talk to her.”
Hannah handed Vanessa the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
The woman heaved a sigh and grabbed the phone. “Matt, it’s not a big deal. I just need my stuff.” She went quiet and listened. “How dare you? There was an Elie Tahari dress in that container. And my favorite pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes.”
Hannah could have sworn there were actually tears in the woman’s eyes. Evidently Vanessa had some hidden pain to react so strongly to the loss of things.
Vanessa handed the cell phone back. “What are you staring at?” she snapped.
Hannah smiled. “You’re very beautiful,” she said.
The hostility faded from Vanessa’s eyes. “Have we met? You look familiar.”
“I don’t think so. But I was married to Reece O’Connor.”
“Ah.” Vanessa nodded. “The Amish girl. I remember now. How is Reece anyway?”
“We ’re separated.”
Vanessa’s lips curved up. “How delicious. That should cause a stir.”
Hannah winced. The woman knew how to place her darts. She said nothing.
“So why are you here? You and Matt having a little fling? If you are, you’re a brave woman to tackle Iceman. Since Analise died, he ’s hardly human.” Vanessa opened her bag and withdrew a slim cigarette. She lit it and blew the smoke Hannah’s way.
The first puff of tobacco stung Hannah’s eyes, and she took a step back. Matt was widowed? “Of course we’re not having a fling. I’m his, um, renter.” She wasn’t about to air her secrets to this woman.
“You’re hardly his type. Look, let me come in and just look around.” Vanessa’s smile was winsome. “Matt might be bluffing about my things.”
“In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him bluff about anything.” Hannah had seen only quick, decisive behavior.
Vanessa put one shapely foot into the doorway. “Please? Just a minute?” Ajax growled low in his throat and took a step toward her. She hastily with-drew her leg. “That dog didn’t like me from day one.”
“I’m sorry, I really can’t let you in without Matt’s permission. You want to call him back and talk about it?”
Vanessa took another draw on her cigarette, then stubbed it out against the door frame. “It’s all spite, you know. He never liked me even when he and Analise were married. They were such bores once the kid came along.” Vanessa shrugged. “I guess I’ll go if you’re not going to let me in. Tell Matt he can take a flying leap.”
Hannah wanted to say there was nothing between her and Matt, but Vanessa’s heels were already clicking along the sidewalk to her car, a cherry-red sports car of some kind. Hannah didn’t know much about cars, but she knew enough to recognize something expensive.
She heard a familiar rumble. A glimpse of that tan truck Reece had been driving made her grab the door and slam it. Stepping to the window, she peered through the curtain. The pickup sat idling beside Vanessa’s car. Vanessa gestured back toward the house, and Reece took a long, slow look. Hannah jerked away from the window. She peeked out again when she heard a door slam. He was striding up the walk.
She ran to the door and threw the dead bolt. Ajax sensed her agitation and shook off the cats. He padded to her side, and a warning growl rumbled from his chest. “Quiet,” she whispered. She peered out the peephole and saw Reece grinning at her.
“I know you’re in there, Hannah,” he said, his voice calm. “Open the door and let’s talk.”
“Go away,” she shouted through the door. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Look, I know you’re mad, honey. I don’t blame you. But we ’ve got our daughter to think about. She needs both of us. We can work this out.”
“I don’t want to be anywhere near you,” she said fiercely. “You don’t have our daughter anyway. It’s a lie.”
He rattled the door. “Let me in, Hannah. I’ve changed. I won’t hurt you.”
“You pushed me down the stairs!” He ’d told her things would be different so many times. She knew better than to believe him.
“It was an accident, Hannah. I think you’re remembering it wrong.” He rattled the door again. “Come on, let’s have some tea and talk. Or we can go out for coffee. You’ll be in public and in no danger.”
Could he be right? She didn’t know what to believe. She could have sworn she ’d felt him shove her. And there was no question that he ’d hit her. Many times. “Where ’s the girl, Reece?” she asked quietly. “Tell me that and maybe I’ll open the door.”
“You’re trying to trick me. We ’re one package. Me and the kid, Hannah. Take us both or neither one. I know what’s best.”
If she’d heard that once, she ’d heard it a million times. She stared at the doorknob. If she could trust him to lead her to the little girl, she would be tempted to open it. Ajax growled again and pushed against her leg. The dog’s warning made her back away. “Go away, Reece. I’m not going to talk to you anymore.” She rushed from the door down the hall to the bath
room, where she shut herself in and clapped her hands over her ears so she couldn’t be tempted to give in.
SIX DAYS AFTER Moe’s murder, Matt still had no leads. He leaned back in his chair at the sheriff ’s department with his hands clasped at the back of his neck. “There doesn’t seem to be a clear link between Moe Honegger’s murder and the Schwartz deaths.”
“Other than they were both poisoned with strychnine,” Blake said. “Come on, that’s a clear connection. Not the most common method of murder.”
“Copycat? It’s well-known about the poison,” Matt suggested. He pulled the computer keyboard toward him and called up a screen. “There has been only one homicide in the past ten years—a spousal murder.”
Blake looked up. “And now Reece is back in town and we have another. That has to mean something. Was he ever suspected at the time of the Schwartz murders?”
Matt’s gaze met his partner’s. “He was a detective at the time of the first murders, so no.”
“And he eloped with the only daughter. You think that ever would have happened if the parents were alive?”
“He was with Hannah when her family was killed.” Though Hannah had said he was late. But late enough to have done the deed?
Blake dropped into a chair. “Think about it. He could have helped Long dispose of the quilts, then rushed to meet her at the bridge while the strych-nine did its work. We know he was in the area, because he met Hannah at the bridge. The house wasn’t far.”
“Frankly, I don’t know why the quilts were taken. They’ve never been sold.” Matt scratched his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. If we could just find those quilts.”
“They might have been taken as a trophy. You know how some killers take something belonging to their victims.”
“Maybe.”
“He was in the area. It wouldn’t have taken long to load the quilts. They could have been in the back of his truck all along while you were searching. You must have suspected something.”
If only he’d been that observant. Matt shook his head. “I didn’t. I noticed how distracted he was, all worried about Hannah. When he ran off with her, I realized it was because he was crazy in love with her.”