Where did I file the thing?
Kate followed me and stood in the doorway, knife in hand. “Abby, what’s going on?”
“I’m hunting for the CD from the safe-deposit box. Have you seen it?”
“I lent it to Steven yesterday. He said he needed a better spreadsheet setup to document the renovation expenses.”
“Great,” I said in exasperation. “But why the CD? I have an updated copy of that program on disk. It’s right here.” I turned the disk carousel, then scratched my head, puzzled. It wasn’t there. “Where is it?”
“Now do you see why I lent him the one from the bank? I couldn’t find that one either. You said they were close to the same thing.”
“They are, but I wanted another look. Steven probably took it to his office.” I picked up the phone and speed-dialed his number.
“What’s happening?” asked Kate. “You’ve got ‘frantic’ written all over you.”
I listened to Steven’s phone ring and his answering machine picked up.
“What have you found out?” she said after I hung up.
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t put this off any longer. “We need to talk.” I took her hand and led her to the kitchen.
I was trembling when we sat down, and stalled by turning over the quilted place mat in front of me several times. My anger had protected me when I spoke with Aunt Caroline and Willis, but this was different. Finally I looked up into Kate’s soft brown eyes, mirrors of my own.
“What’s wrong, Abby? You’re scaring me.”
“I met Feldman yesterday,” I began.
“You did?” Her eyes widened, then lit with excitement. “What did he say? I’m sure he didn’t confess or anything that simple. Is that why you’re upset? Because he won’t admit—”
“He didn’t tell me anything directly, but I overheard him on the telephone. You’ll have a hard time accepting this. I know I did.” I put my hand over hers.
“Tell me,” said Kate, her lips now ringed with white.
I swallowed, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t budge. “It’s Daddy. He lied. He... How do I say this?” I stared at my hand covering hers; then those blasted tears I’d been fighting all day escaped. I swiped them away angrily with the back of my hand.
Kate’s eyes filled, too. “Abby, please. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
“Our parents didn’t die in a plane crash. Our mother was murdered when she tried to find the babies Feldman took from her. Twin girls born to Cloris thirty years ago.”
She scooted her chair back, almost as if she believed that if she distanced herself from me, she wouldn’t have to hear the truth.
She shook her head. “Don’t be silly. I don’t know what you overheard, but I think you misunderstood or —”
“Cloris was our mother,” I said softly.
“No! Please, no!” She covered her mouth, eyes glistening.
“Lies, Kate. We were fed nothing but lies.” I continued on, telling her everything I had learned from Sally Jean, Judge Hayes, Aunt Caroline, and Willis. It helped me detach from my emotions as I explained. When I was finished, Kate sat silently for what seemed an eternity.
Finally she said, “When you found Ben murdered, I had this sense that somehow his murder was connected to us—in some personal way. But I didn’t want it to be true. I thought maybe if we hurried and sold the house, we could escape the past. Funny how you know something before you really know it. That doesn’t make sense, but —”
“We both knew. But I ran toward the truth instead of away from it,” I said.
“Are you turning this information over to Jeff? Please say that’s what you plan to do.”
“Yes, but I want that CD, Kate. I want to hear Daddy’s side. I don’t want to believe he murdered our mother or cooperated with Feldman, even though I’m almost certain that’s what I’ll discover.”
“What about Feldman’s wife? She’s one cold, calculating female. Couldn’t she have murdered Ben?”
I nodded. “Maybe. But the killer knew the routine here, with the roses and all. That means Willis. Lord knows he had motive. His reputation and his law practice were at stake.” I stood.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“That CD is important. I’m heading for Steven’s office. I can never count on him to pick up his messages.”
“But the roads are terrible, and they’ll be in worse condition the farther south you travel.”
“Can I use the 4Runner again?”
Kate stood. “I’ll go with you.”
“You need to stay in case Jeff or Steven calls. Give them my cell number. And if Steven does phone, tell him to bring me that CD.”
“Please be careful. It’s pouring bullfrogs and heifer yearlings, like Daddy used to...” Her voice trailed off and she bit her lower lip.
Steven’s office, located about halfway between Houston and Galveston, occupied the far-west stall of a strip mall off the Gulf Freeway. The water on the feeder road leading into the parking lot sloshed halfway up my tires, and still the muddy skies poured rain.
The office was locked and Steven was nowhere in sight, but the cleaning crew hadn’t left. They were jump-starting their van with cables attached to another vehicle. The same lady who always cleaned Steven’s office recognized me and unlocked his door when I told her what I needed.
The place hadn’t changed. Steven always marked the map on the wall showing his ongoing construction jobs with colored pushpins, but aside from the pin on P Street, he had only one other job going.
I didn’t see any CDs, maybe because papers were strewn all over, along with stacks of blueprints. I checked the drive on the computer. No luck there, either.
But when I moved aside a paper, I spied a floppy disk with a familiar label. My disk. The one I’d looked for in the carousel at home just a short time ago.
So why did Steven need to borrow the CD if he had a disk with an updated program?
Cold fingers of fear gripped my heart and squeezed.
“Shit,” I whispered, tearing out the door.
27
I climbed back in the 4Runner and was back on the freeway heading toward Galveston seconds later. Why had Steven told Kate he needed the CD if the same program on disk had been here in his office all along? Unless he realized the CD contained important information.
Okay. So maybe Steven wanted to help me uncover the truth, and this was his latest attempt at inserting himself back into my life. Somehow he figured out before I did that the CD was the key.
My IQ through most of my so-called investigating had equaled my bra size: meager. But as blind as I’d been, believing for one nanosecond that Steven Bradley had borrowed the CD to help me find Ben’s murderer took the cake, the ice cream, and the hired clown.
Despite his newfound temperance, Steven still took care of Steven. If he wanted that CD, he had a damn good reason, one that didn’t involve helping anyone but himself.
Checking the rearview mirror, I watched the wake of dirty water, knowing I shouldn’t be speeding in this weather. I might pirouette straight into the hereafter on a highway so treacherously close to impassable.
But I didn’t care about my safety. Not anymore. I was dealing with the realization that I had badly misread every person in my life besides Kate. But folks were finished pissing in my boots and telling me it was rainwater.
