Hard Truth (25 page)
“You never knew about Jason?”
“Danielle told me he’d disappeared. I figured he’d either run away or my mother had killed him. I’m relieved, I guess, to find out she wasn’t responsible for his death.”
“Your mother has changed a lot over the years, Mel. She’s not the same woman you knew.”
Melinda’s jaw tightened but she didn’t reply.
“Look, you’re the only person who knows how you feel. But I think you should know . . .” Lorna hesitated. “I guess you need to hear those things from her, not from me. Maybe someday . . .”
Melinda nodded.
“She’s living in the cottage, you know. Back near the vineyard.”
“She is?” Melinda was obviously surprised at the news.
“My mother let her live there, after Billie got sick. She hasn’t been well for the last three years, Mel.”
“And your mother?”
“We lost her about two months ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” Melinda squeezed Lorna’s hand. “She was such a good person. When we were little, and things were especially bad at home, I used to pretend she was my mother, too. I wish I could have seen her again.”
“I wish you could have, too,” Lorna told her.
“Do you suppose she would want . . .” Melinda pointed in the direction of the cottage.
“I think there’s nothing she’d want more.”
Melinda appeared to be at war with herself. Finally, she said, “Would you mind if I left my car here? Maybe I could just walk over . . .”
“You’re welcome to leave the car for as long as you want. Perhaps on your way back, you’ll stop in, and we can visit a bit more.”
Melinda nodded and set off toward the vineyard, her eyes focused in the direction of the cottage. Lorna watched until she was out of view.
“Phew.” Lorna blew out a long breath.
“ ‘Phew’ what?” Regan came up behind her.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t hear you drive up,” Lorna said.
“You looked like you were in a trance,” Mitch told her.
Lorna nodded. “I guess in a sense I was.”
“Who’s that, walking across the field?” Regan asked.
“That,” Lorna turned to her, “is Melinda Eagan.”
“
The
Melinda Eagan?” Regan gasped. “Alive and well?”
“Alive and well,
the
Melinda Eagan.”
“Where’d she come from?” Mitch frowned. “Where’s she been?”
“I’ll tell you over dinner,” Lorna promised.
“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to wait that long,” Regan told her. “We just stopped by to tell you that Mitch is going to drop me off at the airport in Lancaster, then he’ll be back to help T.J. in the vineyard.”
“That explains the pretty outfit,” Lorna said. “Definitely not field hand attire.”
Regan laughed. “Did I tell you that while I was in Chicago, I placed a personal ad in all the newspapers in and around Sayreville, Illinois? Well, I got a call last night from someone who knew Eddie Kroll. I have an appointment to meet this woman tomorrow morning.” Regan’s eyes were shining. “Wait till you hear this—Eddie was one of three boys convicted of murdering one of their friends . . . he was thirteen at the time, and the youngest of the three. He went through the juvenile system and was released when he turned twenty-one.”
“And then?” Lorna asked.
“And then, apparently, he dropped off the face of the earth. No one has seen or heard from him since.”
“I guess that explains why your father started gathering information about him. He could have been looking into the murder for a book,” Lorna suggested.
“Maybe,” Regan said hesitantly. “Somehow I have the feeling there’s more to it than that. I don’t know why, but something tells me this was more than just another case to him.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it eventually,” Lorna assured her.
“With the help of my special agent.” Regan poked at Mitch.
“Every beautiful woman needs her own computer geek.” Mitch tugged at Regan’s hand. “Come on, I want to see T.J. for a minute.”
“You go on,” Regan told him. “I’ll catch up with you.”
When Mitch was out of range, Regan asked, “So, is this a thing? You and T.J.?”
“It sure feels like a ‘thing.’ ” Lorna grinned.
“Good.” Regan hugged her, then started off to join Mitch. “Good for you.”
Lorna followed her friend toward the vineyard, but paused to watch T.J. working. From where she stood, she could see him struggling with a twisted section of vine. She knew he’d keep at it until the vine was worked free, until all the vines were worked free, and the vineyard was ready for the new plants to be set in next spring. There was such promise in that.
She smiled to herself.
Yeah, good for me . . .
Crave more gripping suspense
from Mariah Stewart?
Turn the page
for a sneak peek at
Dark Truth
coming in November 2005
from Ballantine Books.
P
rologue
February 1989
College of St. Ansel
Stone River, Maryland
Mounds of dirty snow rose from either side of the sidewalk, piled high by the campus maintenance crews after the unexpected storm hit during the students’ return for the second semester. A slick glaze of ice made each step an adventure, but Nina Madden barely noticed. If not for the fact that she’d already slipped several times since she left the student union, she’d have been dancing. As it was, she was dancing on air.
Twenty minutes ago, she’d opened her campus mail box to find the bid letter from the president of Theta Kappa Alpha, the first and only sorority she’d preferenced as the rush season came to a close. In forty minutes, she would walk into the Theta Kappa house and accept their offer of sisterhood. Nina shivered at the thought of it. She had just enough time to stop at her father’s office in the liberal arts building and give him the good news.
Her father, American lit professor Stephen Madden, would likely not be as pleased as Nina was, but that was to be expected. He’d not been keen on her decision to participate in rush, afraid it would take too much time from her studies and result in a lower GPA. Well, she’d just have to prove to him that one could be both brainy and popular. There was no question of her academic ability, and God knew, the Thetas were the most popular sorority at St. Ansel’s. Nina couldn’t believe
they
thought she was one of them.
And then there was the matter of the Theta house. Definitely the best house on campus. Every sister was required to live in that house during her sophomore and junior years, and that suited Nina just fine. It was more than just fine. It was a lifeline. With a stepmother who made Cinderella’s look like a candidate for Mother of the Year, Nina couldn’t wait for the fall semester, when she could move into the house and be out from under Olivia’s scrutiny. It seemed no matter what she did—or didn’t do—she could not please her father’s wife of three years. A little breathing room would be good for everyone, Nina thought. Although Olivia did have her moments, Nina conceded. Hadn’t she defended Nina’s decision to rush?
Probably because she wants me out of the house and out of her hair.
But still, she’d proven to be an ally when Nina had least expected it.
Nina rounded the corner of Celestine Hall, deep in her thoughts, for a moment oblivious to the crowd that was gathering quietly. As she crossed onto the walk that led to Celestine’s front steps, she noticed the police cars that lined the narrow drive. The only time she’d ever seen this many town black-and-whites on campus was right before winter break, when one of the fraternities had had a party where one too many kegs had been tapped, one too many beers served to underage students. The dean had immediately revoked the frat’s charter for three years, and over the holidays, the boys who had been living in the house had to scramble to find living quarters for the second semester. That was about as wild as things got at St. Ansel’s. What was it this time?
Curious but intent on seeing her father and making it to the Theta house on time, she ran up the front steps of the redbrick building. Several of her father’s colleagues stood at the top of the stairs, their arms folded across their chests, their voices low, their expressions somber. Was it her imagination, or was everyone avoiding meeting her eyes?
In her hurried passing, Nina greeted those faculty members she knew but received muted responses in reply. The head of the English department stood at the front door as if guarding it.
“Hello, Father Whelan.” Nina reached past him to grab the door handle and attempted to step past him.
“I’m sorry, Nina.” Father Whelan blocked her way. “I’m afraid no one’s allowed into the building.”
“What’s happened?” She tried to look past him, into the lobby, but she couldn’t see beyond the police officers inside who were crowded around. “What’s going on in there?”
A really bad feeling began to spread through her. For a long minute, she felt as if she were holding her breath. Pushing Father Whelan aside, she ducked into the building, only to be caught inside the door by a young cop who grabbed her by both arms and held her against the wall.
“Let me go.” She struggled against him. “I need to see my father. Something’s wrong. . . .”
In the crowd gathered near the elevator, Nina recognized almost every member of the English department, except her father. Nina spotted her father’s secretary and called out to her.
“Mrs. Owens, what’s happened? Where’s my father?”
“Who is your father?” The police officer shook her gently. “What’s your father’s name?”
“Stephen Madden. Dr. Madden. His office is up there, on the second floor.” She tried to calm herself, tried to stop the feeling of panic that was rising within her.
Whatever was happening here, it wasn’t good, but maybe she could get this nice young cop to help her, to find her father.
“Please, if you would just let me go up to my father’s . . .”
The elevator doors opened, and the crowd fell silent.
Nina’s father stepped into the lobby, his head held high, his spine straight as a rod, his gaze straight ahead and unseeing. He was, as always, tall and handsome, and he wore the brown tweed jacket he’d bought in London the summer before when he’d taught a course on Hawthorne at an English university as part of an exchange program. His prematurely white hair was tucked behind his ears; his beard was neatly trimmed. He walked toward her, his bright blue eyes focused on a spot above the door, his arms held behind his back. A police officer accompanied him on either side, and as he passed Nina, she saw the cuffs that held his hands together.
“Dad?” she said incredulously as soon as she could find her voice.
“Daddy?”
In the murmur of the crowd, she could make out the words
the Stone River rapist.
Nina’s knees went weak, and her lungs felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of them. Her head began to spin, and through the blackness that engulfed her, she felt two strong arms catch her on her way down.
That sensation of spinning toward the floor, that loss of control, would be the last thing she’d remember of the day her father was arrested and charged with raping and murdering four of her fellow students over the past eighteen months.
By Mariah Stewart
(
published by The Random House Publishing Group
)
COLD TRUTH
DEAD END
DEAD CERTAIN
DEAD EVEN
DEAD WRONG
UNTIL DARK
THE PRESIDENT’S DAUGHTER
Hard Truth
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Ballantine Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2005 by Marti Robb
Excerpt from
Dark Truth
by Mariah Stewart copyright © 2005 by Marti Robb
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
B
ALLANTINE
and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book
Dark Truth
by Mariah Stewart. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.
eISBN: 978-0-345-48639-4
v3.0