“Yeah, I guess.” She dredged up a smile. “I guess you’re a better judge of people than I am.”
He glanced toward the town hall. The light in Chief Edwards’ office was still burning.
“Anything I can do to help?”
She exhaled slowly. “No. I’m just disappointed.”
“Did Edwards ever find out anything about the anonymous note you got? I mean, besides that there weren’t any prints on it?”
She considered telling him about the other notes and about Roy, but she decided that was between Edwards and his officer. If the chief of police wanted to discuss his department’s disciplinary matters with the mayor, that was his business.
“No, they still haven’t found out anything on that note.”
“And you haven’t heard anything more from whoever sent it to you?”
“No,” she answered truthfully. “I don’t think I’m any closer to figuring out who that was than when I got it in the first place.”
“I hope you’re being careful. Sometimes you find out more than you really want to when you’re digging up the past.”
“What do you mean?” Annie studied his face. Was this friendly advice or something more?
“Just that there are some real weirdos out there. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Sometimes it’s best to keep out of things.”
Mind your own business.
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Only that I worry about you.” He gave her a puzzled smile. “Is that a bad thing?”
“I’m a big girl, Ian. I can take care of myself just fine without your help.”
She stalked back into the banquet room and left him standing there staring after her.
When she came in, Alice smiled at her from behind the punch bowl.
“Where’ve you been? And where’d the police force go?”
“I think I’d better have some of that punch.” Annie picked up the cup Alice had just filled. “I need to cool off.”
“What’s going on?”
“Do I look feeble?”
Alice snickered. “What?”
“Helpless?”
“Annie—”
“Incompetent?”
“What are you talking about? I’d say you’ve had too much punch already, except the only thing in it is pineapple juice, sherbet, and ginger ale.”
“And where have you been, Annie?” Stella came up to the table with a covered casserole dish in both hands. “You missed Pastor Wallace’s presentation.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I did. Was he surprised?”
“He pretended well at least.”
Alice chuckled. “It’s nearly impossible to keep a secret around here.”
“I had to take care of some business with Chief Edwards,” Annie explained.
Stella lifted one silver eyebrow as she set the dish on the table. “About this Susan Morris still?”
“Sort of. It was another dead end.” Better to leave Roy and his adolescent antics out of the conversation for now. “I just wish I knew more about what she was feeling, what she was going through, right before she died.”
“Whatever it was,” Stella said, “she’s at peace now, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, well, I only wish I could be.” Annie sighed. “I just know there’s something more here than I’ve found out so far. But even talking to her fiancé hasn’t really gotten me anywhere.”
Stella pursed her lips and almost imperceptibly turned up her nose. “Archer Prescott.”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
“Self-absorbed, if you ask me.”
Annie bit her tongue. She wasn’t in the mood for Stella’s prickliness tonight.
“Why do you say that?” Alice asked.
“Because he is.”
“Maybe he’s changed since you saw him last. How long has it been?” Annie managed a bit of a smile. “Maybe he’s grown up a little after this long.”
Stella didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know why he’s got that whole company by himself, anyway. I always thought his brothers knew more about the business than he did, but I guess Jason thought otherwise.”
“Jason?”
“Jason Prescott was a friend of mine and my husband’s. He and his three boys—Archer, Scott, and Donny—ran the company until he died. But he left the business to Archer. Something about Scott and Donny needing to make it on their own, I think. You never could tell with Jason.”
“Well, Archer Prescott seems to have done well.” Annie set out a few clean cups. “These days, just about everybody owns something made by JFP.”
“Yes, it’s grown some since it was just a regional company. I guess a lot of men throw themselves into their work after a tragedy. But I heard he’s married now. I don’t know anything about her, but they have two or three children, I believe.”
“Yes, he mentioned he had a wife,” Annie said. “I’m glad.”
“He has his brothers, too, but I don’t think they’re close. Not after their father passed on.” Stella smiled fondly. “I always liked Scott and Donny. They were such polite boys.”
Alice glanced at Annie. “What about Archer?”
“He’s been very polite when I’ve talked to him,” Annie said.
“Too polite, if you ask me.” Stella shook her head. “I always told my husband he was just too polite. There’s something sneaky about people who are too polite.”
Annie couldn’t help laughing. Leave it to Stella to remember something like that after more than twenty years.
Their conversation was interrupted by a tap on the microphone. Pastor Wallace smiled from behind the podium.
“If I may have your attention once more, I’d like to ask God’s blessing on this delicious-smelling food before it gets cold.”
There was a brief bit of shuffling as heads were bowed and eyes were closed, and then there was quiet. Pastor Wallace’s rich voice rolled over the room, speaking words of thanksgiving and blessing and love that were balm to Annie’s roiling emotions. When the amen was spoken and echoed by those around her, Annie lifted her head and caught Ian, at the next table, looking her way.
He quickly averted his eyes, but she could see the uncertainty in them. Hurt, too, if she was honest. He hadn’t deserved being snapped at.
Annie went over to him. “I’m sorry, Ian. I was pretty short with you a few minutes ago.”
“I didn’t mean to say anything to upset you. Forgive me?”
She shook her head. “No, forgive me. It’s been, uh … an interesting evening. But, no, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’ve just let all this business with Susan and everything else get to me more than it should. That’s no excuse to take it out on you.”
“I think you’ll feel a lot better with some of this great food in you. I know I will.” He stood up, offering her his arm and a warm smile along with his forgiveness.
“Um, Ian—I really need to make a quick call. Will you wait for me just a minute? I promise I won’t be long.”
He looked puzzled but agreeable. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”
She hurried into the deserted hallway and punched a telephone number into her cell phone.
“Stony Point Police.”
“Chief Edwards? This is Annie Dawson. I’ve decided I don’t want to press charges. If you’ll just take care of things with Roy, I’d appreciate it very much.”
“OK, Mrs. Dawson, if you’re sure. You have every right—”
“I have every right to remember I need a little grace myself sometimes. I don’t see any reason to drag all this out any longer, do you?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll take it from here.”
Annie exhaled, feeling the tension inside her suddenly dissipate. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
She hung up the phone, put it back into her purse, and then returned to the banquet room. Ian smiled as she approached him. She took his arm, and they got in line to be served.
16
Annie picked up the letters that lay on the floor in the entryway. As she did every morning these days, she made sure there weren’t any unaddressed envelopes in the stack. Since Roy’s confession at last night’s banquet, only the first note was unaccounted for, and that one still troubled her.
Who had sent it? Why had he—or she—stopped after the first one? And what connection did this person have with Susan?
As she went through her daily chores, Annie asked herself those questions again and again. Again and again she kept coming back to Sandy Maxwell. She was Susan’s cousin. She was the only tie to Susan in Stony Point. There had to be something she knew, something she wasn’t saying, about Susan.
Where had Sandy been living at the time of Susan’s death? She had never said anything about that, or about how she had found out that Susan had drowned. Had she searched for Susan as Annie had done? If so, what else did she know?
Annie put away the vacuum cleaner and picked up the telephone.
“A Stitch in Time. This is Mary Beth. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Mary Beth. It’s Annie.”
“Oh!” Mary Beth’s voice dropped conspiratorially. “He’s here. I was about to call you.”
“Tom Maxwell?”
“His other job canceled on him, so he came by to finish up the cabinets today.”
“That’s perfect. I really need to talk to Sandy for a little while, and I don’t want him finding me there again. Not after what happened on Tuesday.”
“What happened on Tuesday?”
Annie laughed unsteadily. “After the meeting was over, I ran into him outside the hardware store. He told me straight out to stay away.”
“Or what?”
“He didn’t exactly say what he’d do, but judging by his tone of voice and the look in his eyes, it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“No.”
“Annie!”
“He has every right in the world to ask me to stay off his property, doesn’t he?”
“Then maybe you should do just that.”
“It’ll be OK. As long as he’s at your shop, I can talk to Sandy for a few minutes. I just need to ask her a few more questions; then I won’t go back.”
Mary Beth exhaled heavily. “Do you have your phone with you? It is charged up?”
“I’m good to go. You just make sure to give me a call if he leaves there.”
“Will do. Be careful.”
Annie hung up the phone and got herself cleaned up. After she had checked her cell phone one last time, she drove over to Sandy Maxwell’s.
It was a beautiful day out, even if it was on the colder side of crisp. Hoping Sandy would be out in her garden, Annie didn’t go up to the front door. Instead, she walked past the old oak where the swing had been and around the side of the house.
Sandy was spreading pine needles over one of her immaculate flower beds, mulching them before the real winter weather set in. She looked up when she heard the crunch of Annie’s steps in the brown grass.
“Annie.” She leaned her rake against the wall. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to drop in on you again, Sandy, but I need to talk to you.”
Sandy dusted off her hands and gestured to the wrought-iron chairs on the back porch. “I don’t know what there is to talk about. I didn’t really know Susan, and I can’t tell you anything about her.”
She sat down and so did Annie.
“Is there any reason why you wouldn’t want me to find out about her?”
Annie studied her face, awaiting her answer. Susan would probably look like her now if she were still alive. It was hard to tell. Those teen years were so long ago. But there was something about her that made Annie remember. It was more a feeling than anything tangible.
“Why would you think that?”
Sandy didn’t answer right away, and when she did, her voice contained a little thread of uncertainty.
“I don’t know.”
Somehow Annie couldn’t see Sandy doing anything that would harm or threaten anyone. There was something gentle and easily hurt about her. She had seen the same thing in Susan all those years ago.
“I didn’t tell you before, but someone left an anonymous note at my house a while ago. It was made up of letters cut from a newspaper pasted on a piece of blank paper. It said, ‘Forget about Susan and mind your own business.’ Who would have left me something like that?”
Sandy shook her head. “It wasn’t me. I don’t even drive.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything. But I don’t know anyone else with a connection to Susan here in Stony Point. You don’t think your husband would have left something like that, do you?”
“No, of course not. Why would he? Susan was dead before I even met him.”
“You said earlier that you knew Susan had drowned.”
“Yes.”
“When did you find out?”
Sandy shrugged. “I don’t know. Several years ago, I guess. I don’t exactly remember when.”
“How did you find out?”
“Someone—someone told me. Why are you asking me all this? I tell you, I didn’t leave you any note.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything.” Annie put her hand over Sandy’s. “I just want to know what’s going on, and why someone doesn’t want me looking into Susan’s past.”
Sandy shrugged again, this time with a ghost of a smile. “Maybe whoever it was didn’t want you wasting your time on a memory.”
Annie sighed. “You really can’t tell me anything else about Susan?”
“I really can’t.” Sandy looked out over the backyard, and there was a little quaver in her voice. “But thank you for caring about her enough to try to find out more.”
They were both silent for another moment and then Annie stood up.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you again. I’d still like us to be friends, though. I mean, if you ever feel like company.”
Sandy stood, too, and walked with her toward the front of the house. “I’m sure we both have plenty to keep us busy. Anyway, I’m fine here on my own.”
They were at the big oak now, and Annie gave it one last fond look.
“I’ve always liked this tree. Oaks are so reliable.”
“They say this one was planted when they built the house,” Sandy said, “so I guess it’s pretty old.”
Annie put her hand on one of the weathered strips of wood that had once been a ladder up into the tree limbs, and from what she remembered from her girlhood, nearly into the sky.
“I always loved playing up there.”
Sandy looked up into the swaying branches. “Almost like playing in the clouds.”
Annie looked at her, and Sandy’s eyes widened. Then she laughed softly. “All kids pretend that, don’t they?”
“The only one ever I knew was Susan,” Annie said.
Sandy shrugged, still half smiling. “Then that’s where I must have gotten it from. That first time my dad brought me here, when she and I were very young.”
Annie looked at her, studying her face, the nuances of her expression, the touch of uncertainty in her wide blue eyes. She couldn’t possibly be—
“I have a lot to do.” Sandy ducked her dark head. “Thanks for coming by, but I do need to go.”
Before Annie could find her voice, Sandy had scurried into the house and shut the door.
Playing in the clouds.
Once again, Annie looked up into the tree and then toward the silent house.
“Susan?”
****
She had found her. She had found Susan.
Annie knew it now without a doubt, and without a doubt Susan knew that Annie knew. It was almost surreal to think that, all this time, Susan had lived right here in Stony Point, pretending to be Sandy Maxwell. And still she was pretending.
“Why?” Annie asked again, hardly seeing the road as she drove back to Grey Gables. “What are you hiding from? And what am I supposed to do next?”
As soon as she got home, she saw the light on her answering machine flashing. Absently, she pushed the button. “Hey, Annie, it’s Alice. You won’t believe who I saw in the Gas N Go a little while ago. Archer Prescott! I’m sure it was him. Call me.”
Annie froze where she stood, her car keys still clutched in her hand. Archer Prescott was in Stony Point. Why would a man like Prescott come here?
Annie knew why. It wasn’t a
what
that Susan was hiding from. It was a
who
.
She shook her head. If Susan didn’t want to marry him, why hadn’t she just left? Why the elaborate deception?
It didn’t matter. Whatever her reasons, she wanted everyone, including Prescott, to think she was dead, and Annie had led him right to her. At the very least, she could let Susan know he was in town.
She got into her car and hurried back out to the old Morris house. It wasn’t likely that Susan would appreciate what she had done, stirring up the past, bringing her back to whatever had made her want to disappear, but Annie couldn’t let that stop her now. She had to talk to Susan, and she had to talk to her right away. If she was wrong about Prescott, then she was wrong. The worst that could happen is that Susan would order her off her property and tell her to never come back. But if Prescott
was
the one Susan was hiding from, the one she
had
been hiding from for almost twenty years …
Annie racked her brain as she walked up to the door, the question still haunting her.
Why? Why had Susan wanted to disappear? And why would Prescott still want to find her?
Almost as soon as she knocked, the front door swung open. Susan stared at her, saying nothing, and her face was pale and blank. Had she been crying?
“I’m sorry to keep dropping in on you.” Annie moved closer to the door, hoping she could have a few minutes with Susan before Prescott showed up. “I have something I need to tell you, and it can’t wait. I hope I haven’t ruined everything, but—”
“You’d better come in.”
Susan stepped back into the house, and Annie crossed the threshold.
“Look, I know—”
The door clicked shut behind her, and she turned, startled to see a man standing there.
“I wasn’t expecting to meet you here, Annie.”
He was tall, and even in his 50s, lithe and powerfully built. His blond hair was salted with gray, especially at the temples, and his hands—
His hands were large, neatly groomed and manicured, the fingers circled with gold and jewels that spoke of wealth and status. Despite the smile on the man’s face, those hands were somehow menacing. Perhaps it was their size and strength that frightened her. Perhaps it was that they held a wooden baseball bat.
“You’re Archer Prescott.”
She knew his voice from their telephone conversations. Even without that, she knew it was Prescott. She knew now what she had done.
She turned to Susan. “Sandy, I—”
“Uh, uh, uh.” Prescott’s smile grew slightly broader. “We ought to be honest with each other now, shouldn’t we, Annie? You’ve already let the cat out of the bag anyway. I’d say it’s time for some straight talk, isn’t it, Susan?”
“Please.” Susan cringed away from him, her voice hardly more than a whimper. “Please, please.”
Annie went to her, sheltering her in her arms. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know—”
Prescott gestured with the bat. “I think the two of you ought to sit down on the couch in there where I can keep an eye on you. Susan and I were about to have a nice little chat.”
He grinned again, and the determined coolness in his china-blue eyes made Annie cling closer to her terrified friend.
Again, he gestured. “Go on, now. Before I see to things here, I have some questions I want answered. Things I’ve wondered about for a good number of years now. Things only my darling Susan can tell me.”
Pulling Annie with her, Susan stumbled toward the little sitting room where the two of them had talked on Annie’s first visit. The room was still warm and bright, and a welcoming fire crackled in the hearth, but Annie couldn’t help feeling cold. Susan was trembling against her.
Prescott sneered at them both.
“That’s some friend you have there, Susan. She was so eager to meddle in your business, she told me all about her research and meeting your ‘Cousin Sandy.’ ”
Susan glanced at Annie and then dropped her eyes. There was bewildered hurt in those eyes, and beyond that, hopeless fear.
Annie squeezed both of her hands. “I didn’t know. I didn’t put it all together until just today. Why did you—?”
“You should have thought harder, Annie.” Prescott slid one hand along the smooth wood of the bat. “I told you myself how long I searched for Susan after she supposedly drowned. I had teams of people looking, and they kept on looking for weeks afterward. Even years after that, I had people keeping their eyes open. Just in case. It’s the kind of man I am. I know things, and what I don’t know, I find out. I have people. Resources. I don’t leave things to chance. When I first met Susan all those years ago, I had her checked out. Her family, her friends. I knew everything about her, and them. Did you think this ‘Cousin Sandy’ story was going to fool me?”
“Please,” Susan begged. “Can’t you just leave us all alone? I wasn’t going to say anything. It’s been twenty years now. If I was going to say anything, I would have already.”
“You shouldn’t have dyed your hair, Susan. Natural blondes are too hard to come by.” Prescott shook his head. “You’re still not bad to look at though, for your age and all, but not when you cry. I told you years ago, you shouldn’t ever cry. It spoils your looks. But it doesn’t much matter now, does it?”
He stepped back, leaning slightly so he could look out the front windows, obviously making sure no other unexpected company had shown up, and Susan made a slight sobbing noise.
“What did I tell you about spoiling your looks, Susan?”
Prescott tipped her chin up to him, and Susan shrank back, her eyes wide with fear. Her shaky breath was suddenly silent.
Annie steeled herself. “What do you want?”
A slow grin spread once again across Prescott’s face. “Closure. Isn’t that what everybody wants? I just want to make sure it’s final this time.” He still had one finger on Susan’s chin, making her keep her eyes on him. “You didn’t think you could really leave me, did you, darling? Nobody leaves Archer Prescott. Don’t you remember?”
“Please, Archer. I had to. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”