Please, help me do this. Slowly, she stepped inside.
The spacious center hallway stood empty, the renters furniture gone with them. Weak winter sunshine through the stained-glass window on the landing cast oblongs of rose and green on the beige stair carpet. The graceful, winding staircase seemed to float upward.
The space was different, but the same. Even without Annabels familiar furnishings, it echoed with her presence, as if at any moment she would sail through the double doors from the front parlor, silvery blond hair floating around her face, arms outstretched in welcome.
A shudder went through Dinah, and she took an involuntary step back.
I know.
She turned. Marc stood in the doorway to the room that had once been his study. Hed exchanged the jacket and tie hed worn the previous day for jeans and a casual ivory sweater. His eyes met hers gravely.
I know, he said again. I feel it, too. Its as if shes going to come through the door at any moment.
Yes. She took a shaky breath, oddly reassured that his memories were doing the same thing to him. I thought it would seem different to me, but it doesnt.
He moved toward her. I thought Id already done all my grieving. His voice roughened. Then I found the grief was waiting here for me.
She nodded slowly. For the moment, the barriers between them didnt exist. Her throat was tight, but she forced the words out.
I havent been in here in ten years. I couldnt. Her voice shook a little. Or maybe I was just a coward.
Marc grasped her shoulder in a brief, comforting touch and then took his hand away quickly, as if she might object.
Youre not a coward, Dinah. Its a natural reaction.
Ironic, that shed just done what shed told Aunt Kate not to do. Still, the confession of her weakness seemed to have eased the tension between them.
What about Court? Is he having trouble with being here?
He shook his head. He doesnt seem affected at all. Its unnerving, somehow.
It would be. She had a foolish urge to comfort Marc. He was only three, after all. He slept through everything. He doesnt have the memories we do.
No. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. Im grateful for that.
Maybe that makes it right that you kept him away from us. She couldnt help the bitterness that traced the words.
His jaw tightened. I thought it was best for him.
Obviously. Unexpected anger welled up in her. Both Marc and Aunt Kate had done what they thought was best, regardless of the consequences. Are you sorry for the pain that caused us? Or do you just not care?
Marc looked as startled as if a piece of furniture had suddenly railed at him. His dark eyes narrowed, and she braced for an attack.
Footsteps clattered down the stairs. They both jerked around toward the stairwell.
Hey, Dad, can I go
The boy stopped at the sight of her, assessing her with a frank, open gaze. She did the same. Tall for thirteenhe had his fathers height, but he hadnt broadened into it yet. He had Marcs dark eyes and hair, too, and for a moment she thought there was nothing of Annabel about him.
Then he trotted down the rest of the steps and came toward her, holding out his hand. I know who you are. He smiled, and it was Annabels smile, reaching out to clutch her heart.
I know who you are, too. Her voice had gotten husky, but she couldnt help that. Welcome home, Court.
Marc still couldnt get over how quickly Dinah had bonded with his son. He finished dusting the desk he and Court had carried from the attic to his study and put his laptop on it. Thats where Dinah and Court were now, happily rummaging through the attics contents to see what should be brought down for their use over the next few weeks.
At some point, hed have to take a turn going through the attic. The thought of what that would entail made him cringe. He hadnt sorted a thing before he left Charleston. Now the reminders of his life with Annabel waited for him.
And, as Dinah had pointed out, he should make the house look furnished if he intended it to show well to prospective buyers. That hadnt occurred to him, and he could see already that Dinah would be invaluable to him. And to Court, apparently.
Court surely couldnt remember her. Hed only been three that summer. Still, Dinah had spent a lot of time with him. Maybe, at some level, Court sensed that they already had a relationship.
He opened his briefcase and stacked files next to the computer. The vacation time hed taken to come here had been well earned, but it was impossible to walk away completely from ongoing cases. Hed have to spend part of each day in touch with the office if he expected to make this work.
His mind kept drifting back to that summer, unrolling images he hadnt looked at in years. Annabel hadnt felt well much of the time, and shed been only too happy to turn Court over to Dinah. Face it, Annabel had been annoyed at being pregnant again, and each symptom had been a fresh excuse to snap at him about it.
He should have been more sympathetic, and he knew that painfully well now. Hed been absorbed in prosecuting a big case and relieved to escape the tension in the house by the need to work late most evenings.
What he hadnt expected was how devoted Dinah became to Court, and how well shed cared for him. Maybe shed loved him so much because shed always been alone, the only child being raised by an elderly aunt, shipped off to boarding school much of the time.
That was one thing hed been determined not to do with Court. The boy had lost his mother, but his father had been a consistent presence in his life. Hed thought that was enough for Court, until the past few months.
Are you stacking those files, or shredding them? Dinahs voice startled him.
He glanced down at the files hed unconsciously twisted in his hands. He put them down, smoothing the manila covers.
I was thinking about something other than what I was doing. Wheres Court? He turned away from the desk, the sight of Dinah bringing an involuntary smile to his lips. You have cobwebs in your hair.
She brushed at the mass of dark curls. He found the boxes of Christmas ornaments, and hes busy going through them. Your attic needs some attention.
Thats just what I was thinking. He crossed to her, reaching out to pull the last wisp of cobweb from her hair. Her curls flowed through his fingers, silky and clinging. I cant close on a sale until I clear the attic.
I guess it has to be done. The shadow in her eyes said she knew how difficult that would be.
Maybe you could help sort things out. There was probably every reason for her to say no to that. There might be some things of Annabels that you would like to keep as a remembrance. Im sorry I didnt think of that sooner. Hed been too preoccupied with his own grief to pay sufficient heed to anyone elses.
She made a gesture that he interpreted as pushing that idea away with both hands. I dont need anything to help me remember Annabel.
Once hed been amused at how Dinah idolized his wife. Now he found himself wondering how healthy that had been.
You might help me choose some things to keep for Court, then, he said smoothly. Court was probably a safe way to approach her. Shed been crazy about him when he was small, and hed certainly returned the favor. I remember him running down the hall full tilt, shouting Dinah, Dinah, Dinah.
You might help me choose some things to keep for Court, then, he said smoothly. Court was probably a safe way to approach her. Shed been crazy about him when he was small, and hed certainly returned the favor. I remember him running down the hall full tilt, shouting Dinah, Dinah, Dinah.
A smile that was probably involuntary curved her lips. I remember him singing Someones in the Kitchen with Dinah. You taught him that to tease me.
They were smiling at each other then, the image clear and bright between them. He leaned forward.
You see, Dinah. We do have something in common.
Her eyes darkened. If anything, too much. She took a breath, as if steadying herself. Court really wants to have Christmas here.
He nodded. He was playing dirty pool, getting at her through Court, but hed do what he had to. Any excuse to keep her in the house might help her remember.
A Charleston Christmas with all the trimmings. He grimaced. Thanks to the Internet, he has a calendar of every event through to First Night. If I try to skip a thing, hell know it.
Blame the tourist bureau for that. Her smile flickered. They wouldnt want to miss a single visitor.
Anyway He reached out, thinking to touch her hand, and then thought better of it. Anyway, will you help me do Christmas, Dinah? For Courts sake?
Aunt Kate had schooled her well. No one could tell from her expression the distaste she must feel, but somehow he knew it, bone deep.
For Courts sake, she said. Then, cautioning, she added, But well have to work around my job.
You have a job? He couldnt help the surprise in his tone.
Of course I have a job. Her voice contained as much of an edge as she probably ever let show. Did you think I sat around all day eating bonbons?
No. Sorry. Hed better not say that hed assumed shed been like Annabel, doing the round of society events and charity work until she married. I am sorry. I guess Im still thinking of you as a schoolgirl.
I havent been that in a long time. She seemed to accept the excuse, but those deep violet eyes were surprisingly hard to read.
Sorry, he said again. So, tell me what you do.
Im a forensic artist. I work for the Charleston Police Department primarily, but sometimes Im called on by neighboring jurisdictions.
He couldnt have been more surprised if shed said she was a lion tamer, but he suspected it wasnt a good idea to show that.
Thats
Surprising? Appalling? Not a suitable job for a well brought up young lady?
Her tone surprised him into a grin. That sounds like what Aunt Kate might say.
Among other things. Her face relaxed. She still has trouble with it. She doesnt think I should be exposed to She stopped suddenly, her smile forgotten on her face.
To violence, he finished for her. Its too late for that, isnt it?
Yes. Much too late. It sounded like an epitaph.
If she let herself think about Marcs intentions for too long, Dinah could feel panic rising inside her. Shed forced herself to hold the subject at bay but now, driving to police headquarters the next day, she took a cautious look.
How could Marc possibly expect to learn anything new after ten years? Did he really think he could find the solution that had eluded the police?
Obviously, he did. In a sense, she could understand his determination. He saw a possible harm to Court in the unanswered questions, and hed do anything for his son.
Ten years ago hed loved his son, of course, but hed been so preoccupied with his work that he hadnt been as available to Court as he should have been. Apparently, after he left Charleston, hed turned his priorities around completely. She had to admire that.
But she wasnt so sure he was right about Court. Knowing more about his mothers life was admirable, but knowing more about his mothers death could only cause pain. She should know. Shed lived with that pain for too long.
What if Marc imagined she knew something about the night Annabel died that shed never told? Everyone else had long since accepted the fact that she hadnt seen or heard anything. The dream was just that, a dream.
But Marc tended not to accept something just because everyone else did. She remembered that about him clearly. It had made him a good prosecutor. She wasnt sure it made him a safe friend.
She pulled into a parking place near the headquarters building on Lockwood Boulevard. Across the street, the black rectangular monument to fallen officers gleamed in the winter sunshine, making her heart clench. She pushed Marc into the back closet of her mind. Shed go inside, find Tracey, and concentrate on some complicated police case instead.
She hurried inside, clipping her identification to the pocket of the blazer she wore with tan slacks. She still smiled at the memory of Detective Tracey Elliott taking one look at her the first time theyd met and telling her not to come to headquarters again looking like a debutante.
At the time, Tracey had resented having a civilian artist foisted off on her by the chief of detectives, whod been influenced in turn by an old friend of Aunt Kates on the city council. Dinah had never regretted using influence to get in the door. She could prove her abilities only if they gave her a chance to try.
Nodding to several detectives whod eventually accepted her, she wove through the maze of desks and file cabinets to where Tracey sat slumped over a thick sheaf of papers.
Good morning.
Tracey shoved one hand through disheveled red curls, her green eyes warming with welcome. Dont tell me its good unless youve got some decent coffee stashed in that bag of yours.
It was a long-standing joke between them. Dinah set her tote bag on the desk and lifted out two foam cups, handing one to Tracey. She sat in the chair at the side of the gray metal desk and opened hers.
Tracey inhaled, seeming to gain energy just from the fragrant aroma. Youre my hero.
Not quite. Just a hardworking forensic artist. Do you have something for me?
She hoped. It had been a longer than usual time between assignments, and even though she didnt have to depend on her income from her work, that occasional paycheck gave her a sense of accomplishment, validating her professional status.
Her relationship with the department was still prickly. Some officers viewed any civilian on their turf with suspicion. The fact that she produced good results with difficult witnesses didnt necessarily change that.
Im not sure. Tracey frowned, shoving a manila folder over to her. We have a witness to a knifing, but shes all over the place. We know she has to have seen something, but shes not admitting it.
Dinah scanned through the file, relieved to have something to think about besides Marc. Is it gang-related?
Could be, but theres something about it that doesnt fit. The victim was a sixteen-year-oldparochial schoolkid, no gang involvement. The witness is her best friend. They were on their way home from a movie and took one shortcut too many.
She nodded, registering the site of the crime. It wasnt an area where shed walk at night, alone or with a friend.
Will the witness talk to me?
Thats the problem. Traceys expression spoke of her frustration. Yesterday she would. Thats why I called you. Today she says no. She knows nothing, saw nothing. And her friend wont be going to any more movies.