When they’d made plans to visit Corinne’s brother, Everett, up near Albany, the weather had been the least of their worries. Now, if they were to arrive in one piece, they’d have to take it slow and easy. Mary thought of all those broken windows Charlie had spent most of yesterday boarding up.
It could have been worse,
she thought.
What if it had been raining?
‘Are you saying it was on purpose, that Wade made
sure
there’d be nothing to trace it back to Robert?’ Judging from her chance encounter with Wade Jewett on the street, Mary wouldn’t have put it past him.
Charlie took it a step further. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if old Wade himself was the culprit. God knows his feet are big enough.’
‘With a mean streak to match.’ Mary peered out her window at a wet smear of green, all that was visible of the valley below. Just a few more miles and they’d be at the junction for the interstate, where the going would be a little easier.
Still, she wondered if the trip had been such a good idea. It wasn’t just her growing anxiety about the situation; it was all this time alone with Charlie. She’d have had to be blind not to see that he was in love with her. And utterly self-deluded not to realize she was on the same rocky road to ruin. With one minor difference: In all these years she’d never really fallen
out
of love with her ex-husband.
‘Either way,’ Charlie said, ‘Wade’s nothing more than a hired gun. And I don’t see much likelihood of Robert getting arrested. Which again begs the question, What is he so afraid of our finding out?’
‘Maybe Everett will be able to shed some light on it,’ Mary said with more optimism than she felt. ‘He’s the eldest. He’d remember more than Jordy.’
‘Assuming this has anything to do with Corinne. There could be some other body buried out in the north forty that we don’t even know about,’ Charlie speculated aloud. He glanced at her, quick to add, ‘Just a figure of speech, of course. More likely it has to do with some moneymaking scheme of his—kickbacks, bribery, you name it. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out there was an account in the Cayman Islands with Robert’s name on it.’
‘So you think this is a waste of time?’
He hesitated before replying. ‘Speaking as a newsman, no. I think any lead, however slim, is worth following up on. As your lover, though, I’m just shameless enough to admit that any excuse to be with you has merits on that basis alone.’
Mary lightly socked his shoulder. ‘You really
are
shameless.’
‘Want me to prove it? I could pull over until this rain lets up. I’m sure we could find a way to entertain ourselves in the meantime.’ He flashed her a devilish grin.
Secretly Mary would have liked nothing more. Since the night at the cabin she’d thought of little else. Why is it, she wondered, that your own bed is never as warm after you’ve been in your lover’s? Simon had called last night from Seattle, and she’d found she couldn’t wait to get off the phone. The whole time she’d been thinking about Charlie. His habit of delivering a line utterly straight-faced, so it was a moment or two before you realized he was joking. How he looked first thing in the morning: the hair that after all these years still stuck up in a cowlick, his stubbled chin now peppered with gray. Even how he liked his eggs: sunny-side up.
When she started to make the bed, he’d gently pushed her away, saying, ‘No, leave it.’ And she’d understood from his tone that he hadn’t wanted this evidence of their lovemaking to be so quickly erased. That little gesture alone had touched her more than any words.
‘Never mind the free show we’d be putting on for anyone who might happen along,’ she replied with mock primness. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was just past eleven. ‘Besides, Ev and his wife are expecting us for lunch.’
Charlie winked. ‘In that case we’ll just have to let the sun come out on its own … without any help from us.’
Forty minutes later they were pulling into the driveway of a neat two-story Cape Cod in a brand-new development just north of Albany. Everett’s wife, a youthful dark-haired woman far too slim to have just given birth, greeted them at the door with a newborn infant nestled in the crook of her arm.
‘Oh, you poor things, you must be half drowned,’ she declared, hustling them inside as quickly as they could peel off their slickers. ‘Come on in, make yourselves comfortable.
I’ll tell Ev you’re here. He’s down in the basement with his birdhouses.’
‘Birdhouses?’ Mary looked up from the sodden shoes she was tugging off.
The younger woman laughed, shaking her head in fond exasperation. ‘Didn’t Nora tell you? It’s his hobby. Ev makes birdhouses and sells them at a local craft shop.’ She stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Cathy, by the way. I feel funny introducing myself. Ev’s told me so much about you it’s like I already know you.’ She turned to smile at Charlie. ‘And you must be Mary’s husband.’
The heat that flooded her cheeks made Mary forget the dampness of her hair and clothes. She was on the verge of correcting Cathy when Charlie shook her hand, replying simply, ‘Charlie Jeffers, nice to meet you. And who’s this pretty young lady?’ He leaned forward to peer at the baby swaddled in pink.
Cathy followed his gaze, wearing the smitten look of any new mother. ‘Cory. Short for Corinne.’
Mary started in surprise, and was grateful when Charlie slipped an arm about her shoulders. A moment later they stepped into the toy-scattered living room to find themselves knee-deep in the Lundquists’ three older children, ranging in age from seven to two. Charlie immediately knelt down to help the middle child, a pretty dark-haired girl, untangle a lamp cord from the wheel of her Fisher-Price grocery cart. Watching him, Mary was struck by his easy manner with the girl. What would it have been like had they raised Noelle together? Would their daughter’s life have turned out differently? Would she herself have been a better mother? The thought brought a faint, bittersweet ache.
Moments later Cathy returned with Everett in tow. He was big and squarely built, like Jordy, but with their father’s dark red hair and long, somewhat mournful face. In truth, Ev was anything but mournful. It merely took strangers a while to realize that what they’d mistaken for dour was really just Scandinavian imperturbability.
He greeted them warmly nonetheless. ‘Mary
…
Charlie … good to see you. Good of you to come all this way, too, especially in this weather.’ He turned to peer out the window, where the downpour had tapered off to a steady drizzle. ‘Before you go, Charlie, I could use a hand hauling the ladder up the basement stairs. There’s a leak in the roof over the laundry porch I want to have a look at.’
‘Be happy to do more than that,’ Charlie was quick to volunteer. ‘If you’ve got some tar and a brush, between the two of us we could patch it up in no time.’
Ev nodded. ‘If it’s dry enough by then, I just may take you up on that offer, Charlie.’
They retired to the kitchen, where between dodging toys and bribing the children with graham crackers Cathy managed to get lunch on the table. Mary held the baby while Ev’s wife put out bowls of hearty-looking soup and a loaf of crusty bread, an enormous Niçoise salad, and dishes of homemade pickles. Clearly Cathy Lundquist was a woman after her mother-in-law’s heart.
As for Mary, she gazed in wonder at the infant asleep in her arms—the baby named after her best friend. Little Cory even looked a bit like her namesake, the same blond hair and upturned nose, the same dimple just north of her chin. If Corinne had had a daughter, she couldn’t have looked more like this child.
She thought of Noelle, how at times she’d despaired of them ever being close. Now suddenly, she saw it in a whole new light.
Were still in the fight at least. And where there’s life, there’s hope…
Over lunch, which was as delicious as it looked, they talked about Ev’s thriving career as an engineering consultant and his minor avocation as a maker of birdhouses. How he and Cathy had met: at a trade show, back when Cathy had held the unlikely title of regional vice-president for a tool and die manufacturer. And what a joy their children were, terrible twos, tantrums, two
AM
feedings and all.
When the kids were down for their naps, the adults retired to the living room, where Mary and Charlie at last got down to the real reason for their visit. They brought Ev and Cathy up to date on Noelle’s situation as well as their suspicions concerning Robert. Mary was careful to avoid airing her suspicion that Corinne might have been murdered, and was pleasantly surprised when she found Ev as open on the subject of his sister as Jordy had been closed.
‘I wish I could be more help.’ Seated on the sofa with his large work-worn hands folded in his lap, Ev shook his head. ‘Truth is I don’t remember much—I was away at college then—except that toward the end Corinne and Robert didn’t seem to be getting along. She was pretty miserable, in fact.’ Absently he plucked free a tiny sock stuck to the throw cushion at his elbow and smoothed it between his large blunt fingers. ‘The last time I saw her alive, though, I remember like it was yesterday. It was Saturday night and I was home for the weekend. She and her boyfriend had gone to the movies. They must’ve had a real blowout because she came home upset. I mean
really
upset, like … like someone had died. ‘Course I didn’t know then that she was …’ He paused, chewing his lip.
‘Pregnant,’ Cathy, nursing her newborn in the rocking chair by the fireplace, spoke gently. ‘It’s okay, Ev. You can say it. They don’t paint a scarlet letter on your chest these days.’
‘So you didn’t find out until afterward?’ Charlie, gazing thoughtfully at the bookcase lined with family photos, turned to look at Ev.
‘That’s right.’ Corinne’s brother shook his head regretfully. ‘I wish she
had
come to me, though. I’d have … well, I’m not sure
what
I would have done, but she wouldn’t have had to suffer all alone, that’s for sure.’
‘Do you think she told Robert?’ Mary wondered aloud. ‘I mean, he
was
the father.’
‘Most likely, though I wouldn’t swear to it.’ Ev wore a troubled look. ‘I can only tell you that whatever they’d been arguing about, it was serious. Corinne looked like something the cat had dragged in. Her face was all swollen and red as if she’d been beat up. At first I thought he’d hurt her in some way. I almost wish he had. If that’d been the case, believe me, Robert Van Doren would be the one pushing up daisies, not my sister.’ His face darkened. ‘But it was only because she’d been crying so hard.’
‘Did she say what the fight was about?’ Charlie’s eyes narrowed, his blunt tone that of the seasoned newsman Mary had only recently come to know and respect.
‘No, except……’ Ev dropped his voice as if he didn’t want the children to hear. ‘I remember her saying, over and over, “He’ll never forgive this.”’
So he
had
known. ‘Meaning Robert,’ Mary assumed aloud.
‘I thought so at the time,’ Ev said. ‘Looking back, though, I wonder if it was Dad she was most afraid of. It would’ve been a bitter pill for him to swallow. But he’d have come around in time, I’m sure of it. He wasn’t a bad man … just hard.’
Mary thought of something else. ‘Do you know if she was seeing someone else at the time?’ she asked.
Ev looked startled. ‘Someone Robert didn’t know about?’ He didn’t have to add that if Robert
had
known such a thing the guy would’ve been beaten to a pulp.
‘That’s right,’ she said.
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Any-thing’s possible, I suppose. Like I said, I wasn’t around much. But I don’t think so. What makes you ask?’
‘Something in her diary. She mentioned getting a ride home from a party—a boy who was referred to only as J.’
Ev sat back, rubbing his chin. ‘The only one I know with that initial is my brother Jordy. And he was barely fourteen at the time, not even old enough to drive.’
‘Well, whoever he was, they were probably just friends.’
Despite her words Mary remained unconvinced. There was no real evidence that Corinne had been sneaking around behind Robert’s back, yet Mary had a gut feeling they were missing something here—a key element without which none of the rest of it made sense. With a sigh she rose to her feet. ‘Ev … Cathy. We’ve kept you long enough. Lunch was delicious, and you’ve been more of a help than you know.’
‘Offer’s still open to give you a hand with that roof,’ Charlie said with a glance out the window. The rain had stopped, and Mary could see a rainbow glimmering faintly in the rapidly clearing sky.
‘Thanks, Charlie, but I’d better wait … give the shingles a chance to dry out.’
‘Let me give you a hand with the ladder at least.’
Ev shook his head. ‘I’ll get to it later. To tell the truth, I’m suddenly feeling a little tired. All that talk about the past.’ He lapsed into a pensive silence, then brightened suddenly. ‘If you’ll wait right here, though, I have something for you.’
He disappeared into the next room, and she could hear the clomping of his boots on the basement stairs. A minute later he reappeared carrying a beautifully crafted birdhouse fashioned from birch. ‘It’s for the two of you,’ he said. ‘Just nail it to a pole, and come spring you’ll have hours of home entertainment.’
Mary felt herself flush, but Charlie seemed unfazed. He reached to accept it with a graciousness she found as touching as the gift itself. ‘Why, thank you, Ev. I know just the spot for it.’
For a blissful moment Mary indulged in the fantasy that come next spring, she would be around to see the birds build their nest, to watch as their babies learned to fly. Then, just like the rainbow evaporating from the sky, the fantasy ended, and reality set in: She would be long gone by then. The knowledge left her with an ache that remained with her throughout the long drive back to Burns Lake.
If Mary’s sister had had any say in the matter, the orange-crowned warbler would be the first to take up residence in Charlie’s new birdhouse. The referendum on the proposed Sandy Creek development was scheduled for a vote in just three weeks’ time, and Trish Quinn was putting good use to every minute of it. She’d mobilized a small army of volunteers to distribute flyers door to door. A rally that took place in front of town hall ended in a crowd of supporters trooping back to her store for coffee and dessert. Professor Lars Thorsen, a renowned ornithologist who’d written a book on the subject, had been invited to lecture. The result was a town far more divided in its loyalties than anyone would have imagined. Contrary to popular belief, it appeared that not everyone in Burns Lake depended on Van Doren & Sons for his or her livelihood.