One thing I do know, he said. This kid, or rather, the woman she is nowshe deserves to know what happened to her mother.
MARISA ANGELO FELT as if she hadnt taken a breath since she left Baltimore. Cutting the car engine, she stared at the house in front of her. It stood on the fringe of the village of Springville, but still gave the illusion of privacy, hidden as it was behind a hedge of lilac bushes so high that nothing could be seen from the road.
Marisa got out slowly, pushing the strap of her bag onto her shoulder, unable to take her gaze from the house. It was probably like a hundred other farmhouses in this rural area of Pennsylvania; a two-story white frame with black wooden shutters on the windows. But instead of being surrounded by neat flowerbeds, it hid behind overgrown trees, its windows shielded by blinds so that it seemed to sleep.
A shiver slid through her. She was being morbid. She shouldnt let this experience get to her. From the moment the police chief called her, after being unable to reach her father, shed been focused on one thing only: get here. Find out what this place had to do with the disappearance of her mother that had left a hole in her heart nothing seemed to fill. Shed packed a bag, collected the materials she needed for her current set of illustrations, and set off.
Shed been five when her mother left, six when she and her father and grandmother moved to Baltimore. This area ought to be familiar to her, but she seemed to have only fragments of memories that didnt amount to anythingan image of herself jumping rope on a sidewalk, the scary feeling of standing onstage in what must have been an elementary-school program.
Theyd left, theyd never come back, shed forgotten this place, even though her dreams were haunted by the need to know. To understand what happened.
Gradually, over the past few years, when every line of inquiry came up empty, shed thought she was accepting the fact that shed never know. But when the call came, it was as if shed been waiting for it all her life.
She closed the car door and walked toward the house. Blank and shuttered, it looked deserted, but someone must be here. The police chief had said the owner was renovating the place. Seeming to understand her need to see for herself, Chief Byler had agreed to meet her here.
She had one foot on the porch step when she heard the noisea steady series of thuds coming from the rear of the building. Maybe the renovator was still at work.
The yard behind the house proved just as secluded as the front. A stand of pines pressed close, reaching over a fieldstone wall to threaten a garage and a couple of outbuildings that tilted into each other in a dispirited manner. The source of the noise was instantly obvious.
The man, in jeans and a T-shirt, worked steadily, oblivious to her presence. Pick up a short log, set it on a stump, split it with an axe, toss it aside. His movements were smooth, efficient and almost angry in their intensity.
From the top of the stone wall, a large black cat watched with the casual indifference of its kind. He put up a lazy paw to swipe his face, his eyes never leaving the figure.
The contrast between the lean ferocity of the man and the lazy feline grace of the cat had her fingers itching. She pulled the ever-present pad and pencil from her bag, intent on capturing the scene in quick strokes. With a few changes, this might fit into the childrens book she was illustrating. Even if it didnt, she couldnt resist.
The image was nearly complete when the man clutched his side with a grunt, dropping the axe. The cat vanished over the wall. She must have made some move, because the man spun and strode toward her, transferring that angry intensity from the logs to her.
What are you doing? He reached her, grabbing the pad from her hand and giving the drawing an angry glance. What right do you have invading my privacy? Well?
Panic clutched her throat at the angry voice. She forced it back, a millimeter at a time. She would not give in to it.
Im sorry. She found her voice. I didnt mean to intrude. Im afraid I couldnt resist the contrast between your work and your cats laziness. She tried for a smile that felt stiff on her lips.
Not my cat. He handed the pad back to her and made a visible effort to contain himself, strong mouth firming, lashes shielding piercing green eyes for an instant. He yanked a handkerchief from his jeans pocket and wiped away the perspiration that beaded his forehead in spite of the coolness of the October day. He ran the cloth back over short dark brown hair and along his neck. Are you looking for directions, Ms?
Angelo. Marisa Angelo, she said, and saw his face change when he heard the name. This must be the man whod found the suitcase, then, the man whod inherited the house from an uncle, according to the police chief.
Sorry. His voice went softer, rougher. I didnt realize you were coming here. The person you want is Adam Byler, the township police chief. If you head back down the road
Ive already talked to him. Hes meeting me here. Didnt he let you know? She couldnt let him send her away, not when the only clue shed ever had to her mothers disappearance had been found here.
No. The word was so blunt that for a moment she thought hed still send her packing. Then he managed a smile that gentled the harsh lines of his face. Ive been outside most of the day. Not paying any attention to the phone. Im Link Morgan, by the way. Sorry to meet you under such circumstances.
The words were conventional. Could Link Morgan begin to understand what this meant to her? Or was her arrival just an unwelcome interruption to his work?
Chief Byler said that you found my mothers suitcase while you were renovating the house? She made it a question, since he didnt seem very forthcoming.
Right. His jaw tightened. I guess you want to see where?
If its not too much trouble.
He sent a harassed glance toward the lane, as if willing the police car to appear. Fine. He brushed his hands on his jeans. I guess Id better get washed up.
She followed him to the back door. His gait was ever-so-slightly uneven, reminding her of how hed ended his woodcutting. Are you all right?
What do you mean? He turned on her, his lean, strong-featured face forbidding.
I just You looked as if youd hurt yourself when you were cutting wood.
Im fine. Just got a stitch in my side. He held the door for her. This leads into the addition to the house, where Ive been working.
She went up the two steps into the house, steeling herself. No matter how much this affected her, she didnt want to show her pain in front of this stranger.
But it was just a roomlong, running across the width of the farmhouse, with a fieldstone fireplace in the middle of the back wall. The walls were bare to the studs, with broken paneling stacked on the floor.
Ill get washed up. Adam will probably be here by then. He disappeared into a room that must be a kitchen, and she heard the sound of running water.
She set her bag on a rough worktable and looked around. There was nothing to see. Just a virtually empty room, a shell waiting for renovation. If Link Morgan hadnt decided to tear off the old paneling, he wouldnt have found the suitcase. Shed have gone on for maybe the rest of her life knowing nothing more than that her mother had abandoned her.
Morgan came back in, pulling a flannel shirt on over his T-shirt. He was thin, she realized, not just lean. Strongly muscled but underweight, as if hed been sick. Maybe her question about being hurt hadnt been too tactful.
It was there, next to the fireplace. He indicated the spot with a nod. When I saw what was insidewell, I had to call the police.
Delaying his renovation, obviously. I guess youre eager to get the work done so you can enjoy your house.
He shook his head sharply. Im renovating it to sell. I want to get it finished and put it on the market before winter.
His priorities were clear, it seemed.
But so were hers. Shed governed her life by the knowledge that her mother hadnt loved her enough to stay with her. Now she had a hint, the tiniest thread, which seemed to say that might not be true. No matter who it inconvenienced, she wouldnt stop pulling at that thread until she knew the truth.
LINK COULDNT HELP but compare the woman in front of him with the child in the photograph whod taken such a hold on his emotions. The adult Marisa had a slender, delicate build, like the little girl. Her brown hair, a bit darker than the shade in the picture, reached her shoulders, curling slightly.
The eyes in her oval face were those of the child in the picturegolden brown, with a touch of vulnerability that seared him. He couldnt let anyone lean on him, especially not this vulnerable stranger with the familiar eyes.
Is something wrong? She brushed her hair back, flushing slightly. A smudge on my face?
No. It was his turn to feel embarrassed. You just I guess I was comparing you with the photo in the suitcase.
Photo? She was clearly at sea.
Adam didnt tell you? There was a picture of your mother and you in the suitcase. Thats how we were able to identify the owner so quickly. Im surprised Adam didnt mention it.
Maybe he did. I guess I found the news all a bit hard to take in.
You must have dropped everything to get here so quickly. Was it odd, her showing up so fast? He wasnt sure.
Once I heard, I couldnt think of anything else. She rubbed her arms, as if she felt a chill. My work is freelance, so I just packed it up and brought it. I couldnt not come, once I heard.
He considered how that must have felt. That almost sounds as if you were expecting something of the kind.
Of course I wasnt.
There was a hint of something held back in her tone that bothered him.
No getting involved. Stay out of it. But he had to ask. Did your mother know my uncle?
I have no idea. The brown eyes flashed. She clearly resented the implication.
Had he been implying anything? He just wanted to understand this, so he could put it behind him.
Marisa turned away, seeming to glance around the room almost at random, as if searching for something to take them away from an awkward place. It looks as if youre making good progress in here.
I wasnt, but once the police got into the act, the paneling came down pretty fast. Almost instantly he regretted the careless words, because she paled, obviously understanding why the police had gotten involved.
We didnt find anything.
He rushed the words. It didnt help. His hands curled into fists. The whole situation angered him. Talking to this woman was like walking through a minefield, where any step could end up maiming someone.
Relief flooded through him at the sound of a car. Thatll be Adam. He went quickly to the door.
Adam got out of the police car, alone this time, and pulled out the suitcase. So, he was going to show it to her. Well, Marisa had probably as much right to it as anyone.
Adam. He could only hope the relief didnt show in his voice. Ms. Angelo, this is Adam Byler. He made introductions as Adam walked in. Adam, Marisa Angelo. But I guess youve spoken on the phone.
Adam nodded, shaking hands gravely before swinging the suitcase onto the worktable where it had lain the previous day. Link was glad to retreat into the background while Adam went over the circumstances of finding the case and identifying her mother from the photograph.
Yes, Mr. Morgan told me about it. Marisa reached toward the case, her hands hesitant. May I see?
Of course. Weve already run a few tests on it, just to be on the safe side. Adam took a step back, as if giving her space.
Marisa opened the case. The photograph now lay on top, faceup, so that it was the first thing she saw. Link could hear the way her breath choked at the sight. His throat tightened in response.
She picked up the photograph, holding it for a long moment, her fingers caressing the pictured faces. Then she cradled it against her chest.
This is mine. She looked at Adam, as if expecting an argument.
I suppose it is. His voice was gentle. Or maybe more accurately your fathers, but we havent been able to reach him.
He knew Adam well. Maybe that was how he detected the hint of suspicion underlying the words.
Marisa didnt seem to. Dad wont mind if I have the picture. Im sorry you werent able to reach him, but since he retired, he takes off in that RV of his at a moments notice.
Doesnt he have a cell phone? Adam asked the question lightly, as if intent on not alarming her.
He does, but half the time he doesnt check it from one week to the next. She didnt seem to find that odd, which argued that father and daughter werent very close. Ive left a message for him to call me, and Ill let you know as soon as I hear from him.
Thatll be fine. Adam glanced at his watch. Its getting late, and I know this is a lot to take in. If you dont mind staying over in the area tonight, maybe we can meet in my office tomorrow to talk things over.
She looked at him, blinking a little. Tonight? Ill be here longer than that.
Adam seemed taken aback. Thats really not necessary, you know. Well continue to look into the situation, and well let you know if and when we learn anything. Im sure you want to get back to your own life.
In other words, Adam didnt want her here, dogging his every step. Link couldnt agree more.
Marisas shoulders stiffened. She looked very deliberately from him to Adam. I can see why you feel that way, but I have no intention of going anywhere. I intend to stay in Springville until I know why my mothers suitcase was inside the wall of this house.
CHAPTER TWO
MARISA COULD SEE HOW unwelcome that announcement was to both men. With her unfortunate knack for empathy, she could easily put herself in their places.
The police chief was simplest to figure. He clearly wanted a free hand with his investigation, and he didnt want to tell her anything he didnt have to. Not that he suspected herhe could hardly believe that a five-year-old child would be involved in her mothers disappearance.
But her father was another matter. Didnt the police automatically suspect the spouse when a woman disappeared?
Or died. She forced herself to finish that thought.
Ms. Angelo, I hate to see you do that. The police chief sounded as harassed at the thought of her staying as she expected him to. Youll just be kicking your heels around here to no purpose. Its hardly likely that we can find anything else out about what happened after all these years.