Heart of Lies (28 page)

“You don’t remember me, do you?” There was bittersweet regret in Laura’s voice. She sounded more resigned than sad. She smiled through her tears, and two dimples appeared in her cheeks. She reached out and tenderly tucked Maddie’s hair behind her ear. “It’s a miracle that Tom found you.”

Maddie didn’t doubt her sincerity but wondered how deep was Laura’s desire to find her sister. They looked nothing alike.

“How can you be sure I’m your sister?”

Laura’s eyes continually searched her face with wonder.

“Because you look exactly the same, just all grown up.” Laura reached toward her hair, then paused, her hand arrested in the air. “May I?”

Maddie nodded and Laura brushed aside her hair. She gently touched the end of Maddie’s right eyebrow.

“That very faint scar at the end of your brow,” Laura said.
There was no way Laura could have seen it. She had to have known it was there.

“What about it?”

“Do you recall how you got it?”

“No.”

“You fell aboard the ship and hit your head on a cleat. There was blood all over. Ma was frantic. Surely you remember.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t even remember ever being on a ship.”

“We sailed from Ireland with our parents. Is there nothing you recall? Our parents?” Laura appeared to be trying to come to terms with the truth.

“No. I’m sorry.” Maddie truly was sorry that Laura was so convinced.

Finally Laura relaxed a little and settled back against the settee. “Tell me all about your life. Tom wired that he would leave the details to you.”

“My life?” Maddie dropped her gaze to their linked hands. Laura’s were soft and dove white, her nails clean and evenly shaped. She wore a simple gold wedding band, but her pearl drop earrings were worth a small fortune. She appeared perfectly comfortable in her fine teal silk gown, unlike Maddie, who felt like a complete imposter in her new finery.

She tried to imagine her ragged nails as smooth and even as Laura’s, her skin pale and soft, and a closet full of lovely silk gowns, and again heard Dexter’s voice in her head.

Be what she wants. Play your cards right and you’ll be set for life.

Impossible. It’s impossible to hurt this woman, Dexter. I won’t. I can’t.

In that instant Maddie realized Tom was right. She was changing. Maddie Grande, the old Maddie, would have passed herself off as the long-lost Megan. The old Maddie Grande would play on Laura’s weakness and take advantage of this grand home and guileless family.

Tell me all about your life,
Laura had said. Maddie refused to hurt this kind, caring stranger.

“I’m so sorry. I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” Maddie was on the verge of panic. “Tom’s wrong. Mr. Abbott, that is. He’s been wrong from the start. I’m not your sister. I’m so sorry we’ve done this. If you could just get Tom, I mean Mr. Abbott, we’ll be on our way.”

She knew she was breaking the woman’s heart, but to let things go any farther would be beyond cruel.

Maddie tried to stand but Laura’s hands tightened around hers. When Laura spoke again there was a strength of will and authority in her tone that Maddie would never have suspected the woman possessed.

“Megan — or Maddie, if you like — please listen.” The sparkle disappeared from Laura’s eyes, her smile faded. She lowered her voice, glanced toward the hall. “I’ve known Tom Abbott and of his reputation for years. He would
never
bring you here on a whim. He wouldn’t do that to me, nor to you. If you aren’t comfortable talking about your past yet, I completely understand. Your life may not have been … perfect …” Laura stumbled and stopped.

“Perfect?”
If only you knew how far from perfect,
Maddie thought.

“But neither was mine,” Laura said, “as you can imagine.”

Seeing Laura McCormick surrounded by a wealth of the finest things money could buy, Maddie found that hard to believe.

“No, I can’t imagine,” she said.

“I’ll never forget the day we were separated.” Laura’s gaze took on that faraway quality again, as if she could see into the past. “I prayed you were spared my fate, but I’m not fool enough to believe it.”

Spared? The day we were separated?

Images from Maddie’s nightmare flashed through her mind. The long narrow hallway lined with gas lamps. The screams.

Laura’s fingers tightened around Maddie’s. “What is it? You’re as white as a sheet.”

“It’s nothing,” Maddie whispered.

“It’s something. Tell me.”

“I’ve had a nightmare. The same one over and over for as long as I can remember.”

“Go on,” Laura nodded. There was such sincerity in her touch, such hope and understanding in her gaze, that Maddie was moved enough to continue.

Slowly she began to relate the dream, the race through the streets of New Orleans, the gangly man, the tall double doors. A crimson-lined hallway. She took a deep breath and shuddered, picturing it as she spoke.

“A faceless girl is constantly tugging me along behind her, demanding I keep up. I know I must. I know that if I don’t, I’ll anger the man. I wake up so terrified.”

Laura was weeping again. Not the way most women cry, not the way Maddie did, turning red-faced and blotchy. Laura McCormick managed to look beautiful even as slow, perfectly timed tears streamed down her cheeks.

And through her tears, Laura smiled triumphantly. “I was certain the moment I saw you, surely you must believe it too. I’m
not
crazy.”

“I never thought you were crazy,” Maddie began.

“Oh, I saw it on your face. But I know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are my sister. The man in your nightmare is our uncle, Timothy. He and his wife took us in after Ma and Da died, but they had two boys of their own and little to spare. Not enough for all of us anyway. He came home one night and told our aunt that he’d found a home for you and me. A grand place where we’d have everything we could ever desire.”

“But —”

“It wasn’t a grand place, you see. It was a brothel,” Laura whispered. She fell silent while the full import of what she said sank in.

Maddie shook her head no. “I’ve never been in a brothel. That much I know. I may have done many terrible things in my life, but I never whored.”

The minute the words were spoken Maddie saw how deeply
she’d wounded Laura. Haunted shadows dimmed the sparkle in the woman’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Maddie said. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Laura assured her. “I know what I was, as does nearly everyone in this town. I was a prostitute from the age of eleven. It’s something I can put behind me, but I’ll never forget. I’m not proud of my past, but I’ve come to terms with it. I survived and that’s what’s important.”

Maddie could only gape. “But … you married a
preacher.”

“I married a kind and loving man full of forgiveness, understanding, and unconditional love. A man who practices what he preaches. If only there were more on earth like him.” She smiled a small, secret smile. “Oh, not that I didn’t try to convince him to walk away, but Brand isn’t one to give up. But that’s a story for another time.”

Maddie sat in stunned silence while Laura continued.

“The morning our uncle took us away, I tugged you along behind me. He said we were going to a new home where we’d have plenty to eat and fine clothing, but he delivered us to a brothel in the French Quarter. We were taken inside together, led upstairs. When we reached the second-floor hallway, a man came toward us. I had no idea what would happen next. He tried to pull you away from me.

“I had promised Mama I would keep us together. I swore to her on her deathbed that I’d watch over you. But the stranger carried you away.” She closed her eyes, remembering. “He had a mane of thick, curly white hair stuffed beneath an odd crumpled hat. His hair was wild, and very, very long. When he hoisted you over one shoulder, you fought like a wild cat. I was helpless. All I could do was start—”

“Screaming,” Maddie finished. “You screamed and screamed.”

Laura nodded slowly. “You did too. He carried you down the hall, and I was taken into a room where I was, indeed, given a fine
new dress. My cheeks were powdered and my lips rouged. I never saw you again.”

“I’ll never forget the sound of those screams,” Maddie whispered. “I’ve dreamed that scene over and over nearly every night of my life.”

She tried to equate Laura’s lovely face with the one missing from her nightmare. After hearing Laura tell her nightmare in detail, Maddie realized it all had to be true. Yet it was almost too much to comprehend. She didn’t remember their parents, her uncle, or being sold to a brothel.

“He had a mane of thick, curly white hair stuffed beneath an odd, crumpled hat. His hair was wild, and very, very long … He hoisted you over one shoulder.”

A chill had run down Maddie’s spine when Laura described Dexter perfectly. One of the two men that Maddie couldn’t identify in her nightmare had been Dexter. Her mentor. The man she looked up to. The man she considered her father.

Laura whispered, “Please forgive me, Megan. I couldn’t save you.” She looked at her hands. “I couldn’t even save myself.”

If Dexter had taken her from the brothel, there was one and only one reasonable explanation as to why she couldn’t connect the scene in her nightmare to her life with the tribe. She still refused to believe.

“How did you come by the name Maddie?” Laura wanted to know. “That was our aunt’s name too.”

Before Maddie could admit she didn’t know, she nearly jumped out of her skin when Janie McCormick suddenly slid the pocket doors open without warning and burst into the room. The girl curtsied prettily and announced, “Tea is now being served in the dining room.”

She held out the hem of her plaid taffeta dress and made another low bow and then rushed over and draped her arms around Laura’s neck.

“What’s wrong, Laura?”

“Nothing at all, dear. I’m just so happy to see Miss Grande.” Laura patted her cheeks with her handkerchief and then fluffed her hair.

Brand appeared in the doorway, took one look at his wife, and steered Janie toward the door.

“Sorry, ladies. Don’t hurry. Join us whenever you’re ready.”

“Why don’t we join them?” Laura suggested, taking a deep breath. “I’m in the mood for a good strong cup of tea right now and I’m sure you are too.” She studied Maddie carefully. “In fact, you look very pale. Have you had anything since breakfast?”

Maddie was still too stunned to move or to think. There was so much more she needed to know, so much to tell Laura, before all of this was settled. How would food ever pass the lump in her throat?

But Laura was already on her feet. “Come, Maddie. The children have worked hard preparing treats for this afternoon. We’ll have all the time in the world to talk now, won’t we?”

Maddie tried to smile but failed miserably as she followed Laura out of the sitting room and across the hall.

A
s much as Tom enjoyed talking with the affable Reverend McCormick, he was preoccupied with how Maddie was faring in the next room. When the two women suddenly appeared in the doorway, he took one look at her face and knew: not very well.

Her freckles stood out in copper relief against her pale skin; her eyes were huge and more green than brown. Laura McCormick was in the process of tucking a hankie into her sleeve, her own eyes still bright with tears. Unlike Maddie, Laura glowed with happiness.

Tom and Brand both stood as the women entered. Tom saw Laura nod to Brand and exchange a smile. Brand’s relief was measurable.

So, it’s true.
The usual elation Tom experienced after he solved a case was missing. Maddie was Megan Lane, Laura’s long-lost sister.

Looking dazed, Maddie paused near the expansive dining table covered by what seemed an acre of lace and silver. A crystal compote heaped with fruits and flowers adorned the center of the table. The children were excited and ready to begin serving the adults.

Tom pulled out the chair next to him, but Maddie appeared too distracted to move as the children and Brand McCormick bantered back and forth. When she finally met Tom’s gaze, her tremulous smile of relief upon seeing him warmed his heart. She wasn’t willing to accept his love, but apparently she valued his companionship.

As Maddie rounded the table to sit beside him, Janie McCormick chattered on about how she and her brother had made all the food from Laura’s special collection of boardinghouse recipes.

When Maddie turned his way, Tom leaned closer and whispered, “Are you all right?”

She nodded but couldn’t speak. Seated at the end of the table, Laura began to pour tea from a sterling teapot. Sam, wearing his Sunday best, walked around the table carrying a small silver plate. He presented it to Tom.

“Would you like some?” he offered. “We made three kinds, so don’t take too many of these or you’ll be too full for the rest.”

“Sam,” Brand laughed, “our guests can take as many as they like.”

“Still, Papa. You said we can’t hog all the cookies, so they shouldn’t either.”

Tom took two sugar cookies for himself and one for Maddie. He set a cup of dark, steaming tea in front of her before he accepted one for himself.

“Anything else? Sugar?” he asked her.

She gave the slightest shake of her head, then picked up a teaspoon and absently began stirring the tea. Before she set the spoon down, she studied the delicate pattern on the tip of the handle.

Tom had already noticed the silver pattern. The lines were simple and clean, not ornate in the least. Imprinted on the end of the handle was a single shamrock inside a circular ring.

Tom looked up and noticed that Brand and Laura were watching Maddie closely. Laura had paused with her hand resting on the handle of the sterling teapot.

“Maddie,” Laura gently urged. “What is it?”

Maddie blinked, looking around as if she had no notion of where she was.

“It’s nothing, really,” she said at last.

“Please, tell me,” Laura urged.

Maddie stared at the spoon handle, then at Laura.

“This is very pretty.” She lifted the spoon. “But looking at it makes me feel as if … as if …” She shrugged, unable to put her feelings into words.