The Stranger's Sin Page 2
Doing his best to pretend he didn’t have a baby in his arms, Chase held up a photo of a man kneeling beside a large, dead animal. “Can anybody tell me what this is?”
The hand of a freckled-faced boy sitting in the front row shot up. He was no older than ten, the youngest person in the room. Before Chase could acknowledge him, the boy asked, “Are you a policeman?”
“Not exactly,” he said just as Toby covered his badge with a chubby hand. “Think of me as policing the woods and waters. I help hunters, fishermen and outdoor enthusiasts enjoy our state’s resources responsibly.”
Chase repositioned Toby and asked again, “Now does anybody have a guess about this animal?”
“It’s a mountain lion,” answered a man wearing hiking clothing and a sunburn.
“That’s right,” Chase said. “A big one, too. Probably somewhere in the two-hundred-pound range. So now you’re probably wondering about the title of my talk.”
Toby squirmed, obviously still out of sorts from being awakened so abruptly. The baby almost never napped in the early evening but had fallen asleep on the drive over. His routine was seriously messed up.
“This photo made the rounds on the Internet a while back, with the text claiming the animal had been hit by a truck in a number of locations, including right here in Pennsylvania.”
Toby whimpered, and Chase bounced the baby the way he’d seen mothers calm their fussy children. Unfortunately motion wasn’t usually the key to soothing Toby. The baby was the ultimate outdoors enthusiast. Take him outside and he instantly quieted.
Louise crossed her arms over her chest, her lips flatlining.
“But there are no mountain lions in Pennsylvania and haven’t been since the late 1800s,” Chase said just as Toby let out a lusty wail. He bounced the baby some more, with no success. “This big cat was killed in northern Arizona.”
The volume of Toby’s cries increased. The freckled-faced boy in the front row covered his ears.
“Over the years, people have claimed mountain lions are roaming our hills.” Chase spoke louder to be heard above Toby’s cries. “But then some Pennsylvanians also claim to have seen Sasquatch.”
Nobody laughed.
Louise straightened from where she’d been leaning against the wall, marched over to Chase and held out her arms. “I’ll take him.”
Chase’s grip on the baby tightened, but he couldn’t continue the presentation over Toby’s howls. “Sorry about this. He’ll calm down if you take him outside.”
He had a moment’s doubt before handing the baby over, but the librarian’s entire body softened when she took him. She headed for the door, whispering soothing words, and Chase relaxed.
The freckled boy’s hand raised, bringing Chase’s attention back to the group. “Do you bring your baby on patrol, too?”
Considering its inauspicious beginning, the talk went over well. Chase showed the group photos of black bears, coyotes, red foxes and bobcats. The young boy was particularly interested in what Chase had to say about timber rattlers and copperheads, which was basically “Poison—stay away.”
The talk finally over, Chase picked up the baby carrier and went in search of Toby and the librarian. He found them on the sidewalk outside the library, with Louise balancing the baby on her hip as she pointed out the things around them in a soft, pleasant voice.
Sky. Tree. Grass. Bench.
“We just finished up,” Chase said as he walked toward them. “Thanks for watching Toby for me, Louise.”
The librarian’s demeanor instantly changed, her whole body turning rigid and uncompromising. She handed Toby over, but not before Chase saw her press a quick, furtive kiss to the back of the baby’s head.
“What were you thinking bringing a baby with you?” she demanded.
He was thinking he needed to talk his retired father into carrying a cell phone. Then he could have reminded him of his promise to babysit.
“My dad and I got our signals crossed.” Chase should have mentioned the talk when he got home from work, but figured whatever errand his father needed to run wouldn’t take long. He’d figured wrong.
“Your dad?” Her voice had a hard, suspicious edge. “Isn’t he a widower?”
How had she known that? Tourism had arrived in Indigo Springs years before Chase’s parents bought the vacation home where Chase now lived with his father. While Indigo Springs still had a small-town feel, it wasn’t so insular that residents automatically knew everyone else’s business.
“Yes, he is.” Chase bent to lower Toby into the carrier and started buckling him in, making sure the straps went over the baby’s shoulders and between his legs. “My mother died nine months ago.”
“I was sorry to hear about that,” she mumbled, then added in a clearer voice, “So if your father’s watching Toby for you, that must mean Mandy’s still out of town.”
Chase looked up at her sharply at the mention of Toby’s mother. “How do you know Mandy?”
“She was a regular at the library. She mentioned once she was living with a wildlife conservation officer. That’s how I got the idea to ask you to speak.”
Chase turned back to Toby and finished buckling the gurgling baby into the carrier. He squashed an impulse to demand Louise immediately tell him what she knew about Mandy. Picking up the carrier by its sturdy plastic handle, he forced himself to sound casual.
“Were you and Mandy friends?”
“Oh, no,” the librarian said. “She just came in here to read her magazines—People, Vogue, Cosmo. Never touched Parents magazine or American Baby, though she had this little one and told one of the other librarians she was pregnant. She had a miscarriage, didn’t she?”
Chase kept his expression stoic, determined that Louise not guess she’d hit on a sore spot. “Yeah, she did.”
“Wasn’t that about three weeks ago?” Louise didn’t wait for confirmation, suggesting she’d been downwind from some serious gossip. “I heard she left town right after. Where did she go anyway?”
That was the million-dollar question.
“Nowhere in particular,” he said carefully. “She just needed to get away.”
“From her baby?” Louise arched a skeptical eyebrow. “When will she be back?”
Chase nearly told her to mind her own business, but she clearly liked to gossip. Since she was bound to give her co-workers a cry-by-cry account of tonight’s bring-a-baby-to-work fiasco, it would be best not to alienate her.
“Soon,” he said.
“I certainly hope so,” she said. “A baby needs his mother.”
In Toby’s case, Chase disagreed.
Toby uttered some gibberish, awarding Chase with one of his priceless grins.
“Thanks again for having me,” he told Louise, “but I need to get this happy little guy home so I can get him to bed on time.”
He felt like a politician on the campaign trail, putting the best possible spin on a situation after getting called for a misstep. Damage control, the politicians called it.
He headed for his Jeep before she could ask another question. He’d been facing more and more of them lately, most dealing with whether he and his father were equipped to handle a baby.
It was only a matter of time before somebody guessed that Chase didn’t have a clue where Mandy had gone.
Or whether she was ever coming back.
THE GLOW OF THE microwave brightened the dark side of the kitchen; Chase hadn’t bothered to turn on a light. He waited for the shrill beep, then opened the microwave door, noting the time on the digital display.
Eleven fifty-six, a good three hours since he’d put Toby down for the night and at least an hour since Chase had turned out his own bedside light.
He’d switched it back on again a few minutes ago.
He removed the mug from the microwave, his eyes drifting to the whiteboard affixed to the side of the refrigerator. It was too dark to read the lines his father had scribbled in black marker but he knew them by heart.
The mystery of where his early-to-bed father had gone paled only in comparison to Mandy’s disappearing act.
Chase heard the mechanical sound of the garage door raising, signaling that he’d soon find out the answer to at least one of the puzzles.
“Hi, Dad,” he said when his father walked into the kitchen a few moments later.
His father’s body jerked, then relaxed. A tall man with a full head of gray hair, he’d nearly shattered when his wife died but lately Chase had seen signs that he was coming back to life. Not only had he gone out tonight, but he’d taken care with his appearance, wearing a new-looking short-sleeved polo shirt with his favorite khakis.
“I didn’t see you there.” Charlie Bradford carried his shoes in one hand, as though afraid the click of his heels on the hardwood would wake up the household. “I thought you’d be asleep.”
Chase held up his mug. “I’m trying Mom’s remedy.”
“Ah, warm milk,” his father said.
Chase brought the mug to his lips, blew on the liquid and took a sip. The thick, chalky taste filled his mouth, and he made a face. “Ugh. As terrible as ever.”
His father chuckled softly. “I never could stand the stuff. Always thought it was better to talk about what’s keeping you up.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Asked the man drinking warm milk in the middle of summer,” his father quipped.
Chase set the mug down on the kitchen counter. “It’s Toby.”
“Is he all right?” his father asked sharply.
“He’s fine,” Chase assured him, “but I’ve been thinking about that message Mandy left on my cell phone.”
Chase had received the voice mail a few days after he discovered her “miscarriage” was a convenient way to explain away a pregnancy that had never been, not that he’d shared that embarrassing tidbit with his father or anyone else.
He’d met Mandy Smith at the tail end of a year he’d been in Harrisburg attending training school to become a Pennsylvania Game Commission employee. After his March graduation, he’d been assigned a territory that included Indigo Springs. Weeks later, she’d phoned to tell him their single night together had resulted in pregnancy.
What else could he do but invite her to live with him? Had the pregnancy progressed, he would have asked her to marry him. It would have been the right thing to do. Instead he’d been played for a fool.
In the voice mail Mandy had rambled on about leaving Toby, but explained that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother.
“I don’t think she’s coming back for him,” Chase said.
“That could be,” his father said. “That girl wasn’t much of a mother.”
His father should know. During the two months Mandy had lived with them in Indigo Springs, his dad had spent more time with Toby than Mandy had.
Chase drew in a breath, then put into words the conclusion he’d reached while lying in bed. “I need to contact the Department of Public Welfare.”
“No! That’s a terrible idea,” his father cried. “Where’s this coming from? Did something happen tonight?”
“Yes and no,” Chase said. “It’s just that the librarian who set up my speech asked a lot of questions.”
His father put a hand to his head and groaned, then sank into a chair beside Chase. “I forgot about your speech.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“You don’t usually need me on your day off, but I still should have remembered.” He grimaced. “You had to take Toby with you, didn’t you?”
“I tried some of the neighbors but nobody could watch him,” Chase said.
“How was he?”
“Noisy. The librarian took him outside for me, then she quizzed me about Mandy. Turns out Mandy used to come into the library to read magazines.”
“I’m sorry,” his father said, but still didn’t offer an explanation for where he’d been. Odd. His father had to know Chase wanted him to get out of the house and go somewhere besides the river with his fishing pole.
“Where were you anyway?” Chase asked finally.
“Nowhere special.” His father added hurriedly, “Why would some librarian asking questions about Toby make you think you have to go to DPW?”
Chase opted not to repeat the question he’d asked his strangely secretive father. “Because she’s not the only one. Mandy’s been gone for almost three weeks. Sooner or later, someone will figure out we don’t have legal custody.”
“We won’t have legal custody if you go to DPW, either,” his father pointed out. “The agency would.”
“Yeah,” Chase said, “but it’s the right thing to do.”
“The right thing to do,” his father muttered, running a hand over his lower face. “You’re just like your mother. She was always going on about right and wrong, as though it was easy to see the difference.”
“It is easy,” Chase said.
“Not true. What if DPW takes Toby away from us? Think about it, Chase. You work long, unpredictable hours, and I’m sixty-seven years old. Toby’s a normal, healthy baby. Do you know how many couples out there are looking to adopt a baby like him?”
“Toby’s not up for adoption, Dad. I’m thinking we could ask to be his foster parents. He’s lived with us for two months. It wouldn’t make sense to move him.”
His father’s head shook vehemently. “It’s too much of a risk. There’s no way you can know for sure that DPW wouldn’t take Toby away from us.”
That possibility was what had driven Chase to the kitchen in search of the warm milk he couldn’t drink. If Louise Wiesneski were a social worker instead of a librarian, Chase doubted she’d let Toby continue to live with him and his father. She clearly didn’t think much of his parenting ability.
“I know you want to do the right thing, but look at it this way,” his father continued. “The right thing for Toby is to stay with us.”
“We can’t just keep him indefinitely, Dad,” Chase said. “Sooner or later, I need to go to the authorities.”
“Then make it later. Three weeks is too soon to be sure she isn’t coming back.”
“It’s getting there.”
“Okay, then let’s say she isn’t coming back. Mandy told you she didn’t have any family, right? That means she left Toby for you to raise. So find her and get her to give you custody.”
After his father went to sleep, Chase sat at the kitchen table, his hands cradling the now-cooled milk, trying to figure out what to do.
Find her, his father had advised.
The directive wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been. He’d made a couple of stabs at it already, but he had no credit-card information to trace or phone numbers to track down. He’d checked his phone bills and Mandy hadn’t made any long-distance calls while she was living with him. He’d even taken a short trip to Harrisburg, but the employees of the bar where they’d met claimed not to know her. The clerk at the hotel where she’d rented a room said she’d paid in cash.
Looking back on it, Mandy had been closemouthed about her past and Chase hadn’t spent much time getting her to open up. He’d been too busy trying to get along with her.
So how could he go about finding a woman he didn’t know anything about?
CHAPTER THREE
INDIGO SPRINGS TURNED OUT to be a picturesque town in the Pocono Mountains, with charming stone buildings lining a hilly main street that provided stunning views of the surrounding area.
The lush green of the valley mingled with the majesty of the mountains and the blue backdrop of the sky. Kelly would have felt as if she’d been transported to the pages of a storybook if she hadn’t been searching for the only person who could keep her out of prison.
The clerk behind the counter at the busy ice-cream shop shook her head and tried to give the color sketch Kelly had done of Amanda back to her.
“Are you sure she’s not at least a little familiar?” Kelly shifted her heavy backpack, repeating the
same question she’d used on the string of clerks and receptionists in the stores along the town’s main street. “It’s not a perfect likeness.”
“I’ll be glad to look at it again.” The clerk had a matronly figure and a round, pleasant face, with big eyes that narrowed when she concentrated. After a few moments, she muttered, “Come to think of it, something about her does seem familiar.”
Kelly’s heart gave a hopeful leap. Finally, after hours of frustration, this could be the break she’d been waiting for. She held her breath as though even the simple act of exhaling might ruin the clerk’s concentration. Time seemed to lengthen, and the swirl of conversation dimmed, taking a back seat to the drama.
“I’ve got it!” the clerk said decisively. Her gaze lifted. “She looks like you.”
The air left Kelly’s lungs, the hope that her long shot was about to pay off fading along with it. This wasn’t the first time today Kelly had experienced the same swing of emotions. A half dozen other people had also pointed out the resemblance. Kelly was beginning to understand how the eyewitness had mistakenly picked her out of a photo lineup.
“It’s not me.” Kelly took back the sketch. “But thanks for looking at it.”
“Well, I hope you find her,” the clerk said kindly. “Do you mind me asking why you’re searching for her?”
“I have something of hers,” Kelly said. Before she could expand on her answer, the door banged open, admitting a noisy, laughing family of four.
“I want chocolate chip.” The smaller of the two children, a thin, dark-haired girl of about three years old, skipped up to the counter, flashing an adorable smile. Her mother immediately followed, placing hands on the girl’s shoulders to hold her back.
“You have to wait your turn, sweetie,” she said.
“Why?” the girl asked, eyes big and wide.
As the mother explained, the clerk laughed, then told Kelly, “We’ve been really busy this week with the Fourth of July weekend coming up. Can I get you something?”
Why not? Kelly thought, and ordered a bowl of fudge ripple ice cream. She found a table at the back of the store, shrugged off the backpack and sat down, digging into the ice cream with a plastic spoon while people laughed and talked all around her.