Poppy’s heart was racing. Had Daddy known?
Something told her he had not known before, but he found out, or he wouldn’t have hidden this diary in his sock drawer.
In that moment, Poppy understood her mother’s words.
I want to die.
Everything was coming undone and she couldn’t do this again on her own.
“
Johnny... I need Johnny.”
She staggered down the hall, back into the living room where she picked up the diary. She dropped onto the sofa then reached for the phone. Twice she tried to dial the number but dropped the receiver both times before the call could go through. By the time she was successful, she was also in tears.
It began to ring.
The room was spinning.
She put her head between her knees to keep from passing out.
One ring, then the second, then
thank you God
her brother’s voice.
“
Hello, Poppy?”
Her fingers tightened around the receiver. “Johnny, I need you.” She wanted to scream, but it hurt too much to breathe.
Panic was in his voice now. “Poppy? What’s wrong? What’s happening, honey?”
“
Come home. Just come home.”
The diary fell out of her hands. She dropped the phone as the room began to spin and then all of a sudden, her world turned black.
Chapter Twelve
The medical examiner’s office was in a gray two-story building circa 1920. With the pair of gargoyles perched on either end of the building, it looked more like something out of a horror film than it did a municipal building, but certainly suited the location of a morgue.
John was filled with a huge sense of dread as he followed Mike Amblin into the building. He didn’t want to see his father like this, but he had to. No more hiding from the truth.
Amblin flashed his badge as they passed a security guard then crossed the lobby toward a bank of elevators. When they got in and started down, John’s nerves began to fire.
“
Why are morgues always in the basement of a building?”
“
It probably has to do with the availability of space and the amount of refrigeration needed,” Mike said.
It made sense, but didn’t make John feel any better. It felt like a trip down to hell and when the elevator doors finally opened, he shuddered.
The cold day in hell had just arrived.
“
You okay?” Mike asked.
“
Let’s get this over with.”
“
This way,” Mike said, leading him through a wide hallway to the double doors at the far end. “I called ahead to let them know we’re coming.”
“
Thanks again for helping me through this,” John said.
Mike stopped short of the doors. “It’s part of the job. Are you ready?”
John nodded then straightened his shoulders as he followed Amblin into a long, cold room with gray floors and gray walls. He shuddered again. Stainless steel tables were lined up in a row like candles on a birthday cake. The lab equipment looked impressive – far beyond the capabilities of a man who drove trucks for a living. But it was the scents of formaldehyde and an overpowering smell of commercial cleanser that was the slap in the face he needed to focus.
When a tiny bald-headed man slid off a high stool, separating himself from the microscope he’d been using, John stopped. Moments later, Mike introduced them.
“
Doctor Wheeden, this is John Sadler.”
“
Yes, yes, Detective. Nice to meet you, Mr. Sadler. I have the body ready,” then he gave John a nervous glance. “Sorry, it’s your father. I’m sorry. I don’t do well with the living. At any rate, he’s here.”
The doctor scurried to the back wall to the bank of drawers where the bodies were kept and opened door number six. The tray rolled out quietly and efficiently with a sheet-covered body on the rack.
It was offensive to John that his father had been filed like a sheaf of papers, then shifted the anger to where it belonged – at the foot of the man who’d put him here and not those who were tending his murder case.
Mike lifted the sheet off of Jessup Sadler’s face and folded it back across the broad expanse of his chest.
“
When you’re done, we’ll be waiting outside the doors.”
The sight of his father’s face was like a fist to the gut. How could a big, vital man like Jessup Sadler be reduced to a mound of cold gray flesh? He kept staring at the body and trying to find his father, but he wasn’t there.
His hands were shaking, touching first his father’s face, then his shoulder, delaying the inevitable. Finally, he reached for the sheet and lifted it all the way up, needing to see the extent of the wounds - and they were obvious.
Jessup had been shot twice in the belly and once in the leg. The moment John saw the location of the wounds, he felt sick.
God damn it. Gut shot. He’d bet a year of his life that his father was still alive when he’d hit the water.
John’s voice was shaking, both in shock and rage. “Who did this Dad? Rise up like Lazarus and talk to me.”
But there would be no miracles in this morgue - just an acceptance of the cold hard fact that his father was dead.
Tears welled. “I’m sorry. We’ll make it right, no matter how long it takes.”
He pulled the sheet back over the body, pausing to smooth down a wild hair in Jessup’s eyebrow before he let it settle over his father’s head and face.
Mike and the M.E. were only steps away as he exited. He went straight for Wheeden.
“
Doc, I have a question. Was my father still alive when he hit the water?”
Wheeden answered in a calm, matter of fact manner. “There was water in his lungs, which indicated he was still breathing.”
John’s fingers curled into fists. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
The M.E. hastened to add. “His wounds were mortal, though. He would not have survived them, regardless.”
John’s voice was shaking. “That’s not why I asked. My father was deathly afraid of water. He couldn’t swim. So when he hit the water, he knew exactly what was going to happen, regardless of the wounds.”
It was a shocking revelation that only added another layer of tragedy to the murder, but before anyone could comment, John’s cell phone began to ring.
He glanced at Caller ID as he answered.
“
Hello Poppy.”
“
Johnny, I need you.”
He could hear her crying. “Poppy! What’s wrong? What’s happening, honey?”
“
Come home. Just come home.”
When the line went dead, he panicked. “I’ve got to go. Something’s wrong at home.”
Immediately, Mike Amblin moved into cop mode. He didn’t like to think she might be in trouble again, but the possibility existed. “What’s happening?”
“
I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
“
I’m going with you,” Mike said, and ran to catch up. “Someone murdered your father and until we know who it was, we have no way of knowing how far-reaching the reason can be.”
That scared John even more. By the time they cleared the building, they were both running.
“
Follow me. I’ll get us there fast,” Mike said.
John jumped into his truck.
As soon as Mike started up his car, he hit the lights and siren.
John was on his bumper all the way through Caulfield. He kept imagining one bad scenario after another, and was in a full-blown panic by the time they crossed the bridge over the Little Man.
****
Mike notified Kenny what was happening on the way over. When they drove up, he was relieved there no other cars in front of the house. The fact that the front door was not standing ajar was also a good sign, but not enough to stop the adrenaline rush as he slammed the brakes on his car and slid to a halt in front of the house. Her brother was right behind him.
John had the key in his hand, shouting Poppy’s name as he ran. When they entered, they saw Poppy’s body lying on the floor.
John panicked. “Poppy! Poppy! Can you hear me, honey?”
“
I’ll get a wet cloth,” Mike said as John lifted her onto the sofa.
“
The bathroom is down-“
“
I know where it is,” Mike said, and bolted down the hall.
It occurred to John then that there might be more to Poppy’s statement about the cop being kind to her than he’d imagined, then forgot about it when she moaned. She was coming to.
“
Poppy? Honey... it’s me, Johnny. I’m here, sister. I’m here.”
Mike came back carrying a cold wet washcloth. “The bathroom mirror is broken,” he said, and handed the cloth to John.
“
What the hell?”
Mike shrugged.
She moaned again, shifting John’s focus. “So you know where the bathroom is.”
Mike realized what his familiarity with the place implied, but he was defensive enough on Poppy’s behalf to answer in his cop voice, which was just shy of pissed.
“
The first time I met your sister was when my partner and I came to notify her of your father’s death. She fainted. The second time I was here was after I found her on the bridge over the Little Man. She’d tried to walk home in the rain from The Depot and collapsed. She was so goddamned cold she couldn’t feel her feet. The third time I was here was to fingerprint her as a means of print elimination after we located your family car. This makes the fourth time. To my regret, all the visits have been a series of tragedies. Put the cloth on her forehead.”
John blinked. Message received. He did as he was told. Within moments, she began coming around.
****
Poppy jerked. Something wet was on her face.
“
It’s okay, honey. It’s me, Johnny.”
Panic subsided when she heard his voice, then she tried to sit up.
“
What happened?”
John sighed. “You tell me, sister. You called me crying and told me to come home.”
Everything came flooding back. “Oh my God, you won’t believe-” She realized they were not alone. “Why is he here?”
“
We were together at the morgue,” John said. “He got me here faster.”
“
Did someone hurt you?” Mike asked.
Poppy’s gaze swept across the detective’s face as she realized why he’d come. “Ever my knight in shining armor, aren’t you?” Then she shook her head slowly. “Not like you mean.”
Poppy tugged at John’s hand, pulling him down beside her. “I found Mama’s diary.”
Mike held up a hand. “Whoa. I think this is my cue to leave you two alone to talk.”
“
No. Wait,” Poppy said. “It may have nothing to do with Daddy’s death, but secrets can rot a family from the inside out, especially one like this. Please stay.”
Mike sat.
John saw the book on the floor near his feet and picked it up.
“
Is this it?”
Poppy nodded.
“
So what’s the big secret?” he asked, flipping idly through the pages.
Poppy felt sick. Once these words were said aloud, there would be no going back.
“
The diary was written during Mama’s senior year in high school. I didn’t think it amounted to much until I got to the entries she wrote after Christmas break. Without going into a lot of repetitive detail, the bottom line is that Mama had a boyfriend from the north side of Caulfield. They hid their relationship, and you know why. No one from the north side dates anyone from Coal Town.”
“
That’s for sure,” John said.
“
So according to the diary, they got serious. They were having sex and she was head over heels in love with him, then the night of the senior prom he dumped her. A few weeks later she finds out she’s pregnant, but by then he’s off to college and out of the picture. The last entry was about her father going to demand the boy’s family pay for her expenses and she was threatening to jump off the bridge over the Little Man if he did.”
John put his arm around Poppy and hugged her. “Honey, that’s tough to hear, but it’s not the end of the world.”
Poppy glanced at Mike. There was sympathy in his gaze, but something more that gave her the guts to continue.
“
Actually, it’s the end of mine.”
“
What the hell are you talking about?” John asked.
“
I was born seven months after that entry.”
John jerked as if she’d just slapped him. “Oh my God. Oh honey.” Then he reached for her, pulling her close. “It doesn’t matter. Not a damn bit of it. You’re still you and I’m still me. We’re all that’s left of our family and nothing is going to change that.”
Mike frowned. “I’m slow. Help me, here.”
Poppy leaned back in her brother’s arms. It was somewhat easier to say leaning on someone else’s strength.
“
Daddy was years older than Mama. When he and Mama married, he was a widower and his son, my brother Johnny, was eight. She did not go to school with him. He was born and raised in Coal Town. He could not, in any way, be my father. I think he came across Mama’s diary while looking for something she probably wanted him to bring to the hospital, read it and hid it. I found it beneath his socks in his dresser. I don’t know if this has anything to do with what happened to him, but I won’t hold back anything that might find his killer.”