Heaven Is High (28 page)

Binnie was shaking her head again. Her hand had found Martin's once more.

Barbara brought out the birth certificate next and handed it to Binnie. “That's what immigration demanded, and I can produce it for them. I also have Anaia's marriage license, and the number on Lawrence Thurston's passport. Your mother and your father, Binnie.” She put the marriage license on the table.

Barbara tapped the birth certificate. “Binnie, listen to me. That document means no one can deport you to anywhere. Period. It means that you are a citizen of the United States of America.”

She watched a range of emotions sweep over Binnie's face: more shock, bewilderment, disbelief redoubled … Martin's hand must have tightened on hers, and she winced and turned to him, but his gaze was locked on Barbara, his jaw was clenched so hard a ridge had formed that looked as solid as rock.

“Barbara, is that the law? Is that a fact?” he whispered, as if his voice had failed.

“It is the law. She has an American father and that confers citizenship on her.”

Abruptly Martin rose. “I'm going to make some coffee,” he said. “Binnie, want to come with me?”

She jumped up and they walked out together. Barbara leaned back and closed her eyes. They needed private time, time for one of their silent discussions. Time to comprehend what she had just told them.

She had told Binnie that the woman she knew in her soul was her mother was instead her mother's sister. Binnie would never believe it, could not believe it. But could she accept having others believe it? Would she see it as renouncing her own mother, denying her? How heavy a burden of guilt was she, Barbara, laying on that young woman?

She was quite suddenly plunged into her own guilt-ridden past. When her mother died of cancer, she had denied, rejected her death, had abandoned her father to his grief and had fled, unable to accept the guilt she had felt over doing nothing for her mother. She could have been, should have been with her more, been more of a comfort to her, more of a companion, more loving, more … just more, she thought wearily. And she had failed. It didn't help at all to know there had been nothing anyone could do, the cancer was master, not to be defeated. She could have, should have tried.

When she opened her eyes, she brought out the other papers she had, the newspaper account of the piracy and the death of all those aboard the freighter, the account of the will Augustus Santos had left, and the handwritten will Anaia had included.

The minutes stretched out without a sound from anywhere else in the house. Barbara got up and went to the window to gaze at the back of the property, thinking of the peacefulness of the walnut grove, yearning to be out there under the trees, remembering Frank's words in his house over by the river. He had told her for the first time about his sleepless nights after that death that changed them both for all time. He had come out to the river, he had said that night, and the susurrous whisper of wind in the fir trees had done what sleeping pills had failed to do. He had been able to sleep again. He, like her, had been able to find peace under the trees.

She was still at the window when she heard them coming back, Martin carrying a tray with the coffee and cups.

“There's a little more,” she said, returning to the table. “A few more things for you to read, if you will.” She motioned toward the copies and accepted coffee gratefully when Martin handed her a filled cup.

When they looked at her again after reading everything, Martin said in a wondering voice, “She's an American citizen and an heiress?”

“Well, she'll get something now. You should understand that when the shipping business stops dealing in marijuana, profits probably will plummet. So there may be little return there in the near future, but eventually, yes, Binnie will be an heiress. But not soon. Anaia is a very strong, very vibrant woman who, I suspect, will live many, many years. Let me tell you more about her and what she's been doing all these years.”

She had to make Binnie accept it now, here, not have that look of confusion and denial in the morning at the immigration office. She told them about Anaia's years teaching in remote jungle villages, her plans for the estate with schools for adults and for children, the foundation she planned to establish, the multitude of friends she had and the love and protection they had given her.

When she paused, Martin said, “Barbara, there's more, isn't there? Something you've not told us yet.”

She passed her cup across the table for a refill. “There's a little more. Until it's established that Binnie is Anaia's daughter, in the event of Anaia's death Julius will still get the whole estate. Remember, no one knows about Binnie, and he might fight having her recognized.”

“How can you prevent that?” Martin demanded. “He's there, apparently with enough money to send someone here to try to get Binnie deported and to plant a bug in the restaurant.”

“I gave the authorities a written statement accusing him of kidnapping me, assault, conspiracy to have me killed,” she said slowly. “He will be investigated, arrested, and sentenced to a long time in jail.” Binnie's hand had flown to her mouth as Barbara said this and the look of terror had returned to her face.

Martin's gaze had fixed on her cheek as she spoke and she nodded. “You obviously escaped,” he said. “How?”

“Anaia's compatriot, Robert, and Anaia both have many friends there. They rescued me.”

Martin's close scrutiny was still focused on her face and she shook her head slightly. Whatever he had been about to say went unspoken. Binnie turned to Martin with a questioning look. He took her hand. “So until all that happens,” he said, “we will all have to be careful. Is that the message? If Santos killed his own brother and was trying to kill Anaia Thurston, Binnie is still in his way. And so are you. Be careful seems to say a little less than what it means.”

“You've got it,” Barbara said. “Santos apparently has others in the area who will be watching for you, Binnie. Establishing that you are Anaia's child may take a little time or may happen almost immediately, but we'll have to be careful. We can't know when word will get back to Santos and he'll be forced to accept it and the threat will end. This afternoon, after I leave here, Bailey and I will put our heads together and figure out the best plan to get you both to a hearing tomorrow morning. That's the time they granted, one week. We're due there at nine in the morning. I want Bailey to pick you up and he'll have instructions for you about how to go on from there. We should allow at least an hour and a half to get to town, but he may want more time in the morning. Will that be a problem?”

Binnie looked terrified again and Barbara said to her, “I don't expect any trouble with the immigration people. It's just that the wheels of bureaucracy turn very slowly. I have more than enough to satisfy them, but they may have to confirm it before they give their stamp of approval. We'll have a good plan in place later today. I just got home last night and there hasn't been enough time to do it sooner. I wish there had been.”

“The time in the morning isn't a problem,” Martin said. “Whatever Bailey tells us to do, we'll be ready.”

Barbara opened the shopping bag and brought out the raincoat. “Binnie, I want you to wear this, with the hood up. It's a little too big, but that's good. Will you do that?”

She nodded. She still looked stunned, disbelieving.

Barbara reached across the table to take her hand. “Binnie, Anaia is a lovely, caring woman who has devoted her life to others. She is one of the bravest people I've ever met, and she is overjoyed to have found her daughter. She and Shala were extremely close, and she feels that close to you already. She plans to come to you as soon as she is free of the legalities of her situation, Julius is dealt with, and she is actually mistress of the Santos plantation without fear. She will need to apply for a passport, of course, and it all may take time. She is eager for you to go to Belize, see where she and Shala lived, share memories with you, tell you about growing up with Shala, how close they were, tell you about your grandmother. They used to go into the jungle, the three of them, and find orchids. Both girls adored her, and Anaia said that her father did, too, that something in him died when she died. Anaia thought she had lost everyone she ever loved, her mother, her sister, her child. She wept when I told her about you. She wept for you and for Shala, and now she will do everything in her power to make sure you are safe, that you share the Santos fortune, the estate, and the joy she finds in it. She loves you, Binnie. She loves you very much.”

She paused, then said, “Binnie, you will never stop loving Shala as your mother. That's a given. She was your mother in all ways and would have died to protect you. Anaia understands that and would do nothing to try to take her place. She just wants another place in your heart. She wants to be a mother to you exactly the way Shala was if you can let her do that.”

Tears filled Binnie's eyes, and this time she could not contain them. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she mouthed the words “Thank you.”

Barbara began to gather up all the papers on the table. “I have to make copies of everything, but after this is over, the photographs, all of it will be yours.” She turned to Martin. “Anything else?”

He shook his head. As she pulled on her jacket, he said, “I'll walk out with you. Be right back, honey,” he said to Binnie.

At her car door, he touched her cheek gently, “There's a lot more. I know that. Binnie will be all right. Like you said, it's a shock, but she'll be fine. You've given her a mother. It's as if you've restored Shala to her. Barbara, I hope someday you'll tell me the rest of it.”

“Take care of her, Martin. Let her talk as much as she needs to. Bailey will be in touch later.”

He embraced her, then kissed her cheek. “You saved the lives of two people today. We'll never forget that. You take care, Barbara. Take care.”

As she pulled onto the highway after leaving, Barbara heard in her head once more the phrase “Heaven is high…” But now the emperor was not far away, she thought then. The emperor was in Eugene, waiting for her.

25

Driving back to Eugene, Barbara began a list of must-do items for the next hour and a half. It was two thirty already, she thought with a groan as her list expanded. Kinko's to make copies. Buy manila envelopes and folders. Something to eat. Some decent coffee to take to the motel, and a bottle of wine, she added with emphasis. Sort and arrange the documents into separate folders and envelopes. Plan for the morning.

She groaned again. Mist was forming in the forests, daffodils were fading, forsythia was finished and tulips appearing, spring had advanced, and she could already smell rain that was due later. She wanted to be in the woods with water still dripping from the dense upper story long after the rain ended. She wanted to go for a walk in the woods, her own clean, quiet woods. She shook her head impatiently, and kids want Santa Claus right now.

An umbrella, she decided. She had good enough clothes in the motel for the federal building and its fifties-style offices, but she shouldn't show up dripping, and her poncho and raincoat were at home, out of reach.

She kept seeing the image of Binnie's small hand in Martin's huge one, how he had held an umbrella over her the first time they had shown up at her house. Binnie was so small and next to him she appeared even smaller. The first nebulous outline of an idea came with the image of them leaving her house that first day.

By the time she finished her chores, it was a quarter past four and Bailey was in the rear booth of the restaurant looking sour. A booth filled with laughing teens was in the one closest to his.

She drew near and said, “Let's go to my room and talk. I'll go on over and see you there.” She paused, then said, “Will you order a sandwich for me and bring it? Ham and cheese or something.”

Back at the motel she unloaded her things and, before she took off her jacket, she found the coffee she had picked up and started a pot. It made only two or three cups at a time, but it had to do, no matter how many times she had to fill it again.

Minutes later Bailey knocked on her door. He had his duffel bag over his shoulder and was carrying a small bag that he handed to her. After looking with disfavor at the bed where she had strewn her own things, he edged around the small table to take a chair and put his duffel bag on the floor by it.

“Some beer in there,” she said, pointing to the groceries on the bed. She unwrapped the sandwich. “Coffee coming along in a minute.” She took a bite from the sandwich and went back to the coffeemaker to will it to finish.

Bailey got a beer from the six-pack. “I have pictures of five of the stakeouts. And my photo lab guy is getting tired of rush orders. He's got other work to do, he wants me to tell you. Also, another print of Binnie.” He put an envelope on the table. “How'd she take the idea of a new mama?”

She scowled at him. “She's in shock. She'll be okay. I've been thinking of tomorrow morning. I bet those guys don't have a picture of her, just a general description, and God only knows how good that is, or how they got even that much. She told me no one had ever taken her picture, no one but Martin, until I did. But those guys will know what Martin looks like and he's unmistakable. They can't miss him. I don't want Martin and Binnie seen together tomorrow at the federal building.” She poured coffee, finished the sandwich, and sat in the chair opposite him at the table.

“I took her a raincoat, but I also bought an umbrella for her, and one for me. Let's think about doing it this way. Have Martin go in through the main entrance and stand just inside the door as if he's waiting for her to show up. Check his watch from time to time, act anxious.”

Bailey snorted. “Won't have to put on much of an act. Go on.”