The Stranger's Sin Page 8
Teresa had been all that stood in the way of having to take Toby along on the trip to Allentown.
“Thanks, Aunt Teresa.” Chase wasn’t sure when he’d started calling her Aunt Teresa; he only knew it felt right. His mother, after all, had once told him Teresa was the sister she never had. “You’re sure he won’t be too much trouble?”
“Of course he won’t. I’m just glad my boss gave us a three-day weekend so I can help you out.” Teresa sounded sincere but looked as if he’d rousted her from bed. Her feet were bare and she wore pink pajamas dotted with tiny white hearts. “Will you be gone all day?”
“Afraid so. I’m working this afternoon and evening but this morning we’re headed to a craft show. We have a lead on Mandy. It might not pan out, but it’s worth a shot.”
“We?”
“I’m going with a woman who showed up in town looking for Mandy.”
“Oh, yes. Your father told me about her,” she said, the revelation a bit of a surprise. His father must be in more frequent contact with Teresa than he thought.
“It’s unbelievable you still haven’t heard from Mandy.” Teresa’s jaw tightened. She sounded as though she might start waving a finger at any moment. “Once you find her, you bring her to me. I’ll see to it that she signs those custody papers.”
It felt good to have her on his side. “I just might do that.”
She unbuckled Toby from the carrier and lifted him into her arms. He grinned sleepily at her before shutting his eyes. Figures. Toby had worn out Chase and Toby was the one taking a nap. She smoothed the little boy’s hair back from his forehead, causing it to stick up in tufts.
“Speaking of my dad,” Chase said, “can I ask you something?”
She nodded but there was nothing nonchalant about the gesture. The faint rumblings Chase had been getting that all wasn’t right with his father grew louder.
“Have you noticed how strange he’s been acting?” he asked.
He could swear her entire body tensed.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“He’s been coming home late and half the time I don’t know where he’s been. I don’t even know if he went on this fishing trip with one of his buddies or if he’s alone. Did he tell you anything?”
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “You know your father. It’s hard to have a serious conversation with him.”
“Yeah,” Chase said. When his father didn’t want to talk about something, he turned it into a joke. He’d been joking a lot lately. “It’s worse now with Mom gone. I know how much he misses her.”
“We all miss her,” Teresa said.
“Not like he does,” Chase said. “Come to think of it, that’s probably it.”
“What is?”
“Why he keeps going off by himself.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I didn’t put it together before. They were married for forty years. He’s not going to forget about her in nine months. Hell, I wouldn’t want him to.”
She said nothing, not that he expected her to. He kissed her on the forehead, then planted a second kiss on the sleeping baby boy’s head.
“With it being the Fourth of July weekend, I might not get off work until really late tonight,” he warned.
“If you need me to keep Toby overnight, just let me know,” she said. “I have a crib set up in the guest room for my grandchildren.”
“You’re the best,” he told her. “My mom sure had good taste in friends.”
“And don’t you forget it,” she quipped, her eyes twinkling, the remark reminding him of his father.
He was smiling when he left the house, the memory of his mother burning brighter, as it always did after he spent time with Teresa.
He pulled his Jeep to the curb in front of the B and B a short time later, wondering whether his mother would have liked Kelly. Probably. His mom had always advocated giving another person the benefit of doubt.
In Kelly’s case, he was still trying to figure out if that was wise.
She’d duped him once with the story about the necklace. Her assertion that Mandy had stolen from her was more credible but still problematic. It was rare for a victim of a crime to hunt for the perpetrator and rarer still for the victim to chase the criminal across state lines.
Caution had spurred him to get the check run on her name. His friend in the police department had called back early this morning, confirming a Kelly Delaney did indeed live in Schenectady, New York, and worked as an elementary-school teacher.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected the trace to reveal. Of course Kelly had given him her real name and hometown. Why wouldn’t she? And what other reason could she have for searching for Mandy if it wasn’t money?
As it had the night his father went to the emergency room, his gut told him to trust her even as his brain cautioned him to be wary. His hormones overrode both as Kelly skipped down the wide front steps of the B and B and approached the pickup.
In a V-neck tank top, blue-jean shorts that skimmed her pretty knees and sandals, she should have looked unremarkable. But a warm breeze played with her silky brown hair and the sun shone on her healthy complexion, causing her to come alive.
He was so caught up in looking at her that she yanked open the door and slung her backpack into the backseat before he could get out of the Jeep.
“Hi,” she said brightly, settling into the passenger seat. “Tough morning?”
“How did you know?”
“You don’t strike me as somebody who’s usually late, not that I’m complaining. I know how kids can slow you down.”
“You have kids?” The possibility that she was married hadn’t occurred to him before now.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Twenty-two of them.”
“What?” he sputtered.
“I’m a teacher,” she said with a laugh, confirming what he already knew. “I think of all my students as my kids.”
Chase waited for a break in traffic that had grown heavier thanks to the Fourth of July holiday and pulled into the street, suddenly awash in curiosity about her. “It sounds like you enjoy teaching.”
“I love it.” She pronounced each of the three words distinctly, lending them more weight. “I love kids, period. Their innocence. Their joy. Their eagerness to learn. I feel energized when I’m around them, I guess because I’m seeing the world through their eyes.”
“I feel that way around Toby.” He was constantly amazed at how quickly the child had taken up space in his heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I love going to work—especially because I’m not a salesman anymore—but sometimes I’d rather stay home and play with him.”
“Perfectly understandable,” she said. “But what did you mean about being a salesman?”
“I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, so I majored in business in college,” he said. “My first job was selling office equipment.”
“How did you become a forest ranger?”
“I did a cold call one day at the Pennsylvania Game Commission office. A notice was posted on the bulletin board about a need for wildlife conservation officers so I decided to apply. The rest is history.”
The hour’s drive to Allentown passed swiftly, with his vague suspicions about Kelly slowly fading as the conversation flowed. He talked about the challenges of maintaining a home office and patrolling an area of three-hundred-and-fifty square miles, and she entertained him with stories about her students.
“One little boy was the ring bearer at his uncle’s wedding,” she said. “He brought a plastic ring to school and asked one of the girls to marry him. When she said no, he started to sob. After I dried his tears, he asked if I would marry him.”
“What did you say?”
“That if I was still single, we could talk about it again when he had grown up.”
“I think I’m jealous.” Chase meant the comment to be tongue in cheek. He slanted her a look. Their eyes met and held, and something infinitesimal changed between them. He realized he’d
just admitted he was attracted to her. Unless he was mistaken, she felt the same.
She broke their charged gaze and launched into another story, as if nothing had happened. He vowed to see that it didn’t. He definitely was not in the market to get involved with anyone so soon after Mandy.
A collection of tents appeared before long, signaling that they’d arrived at the craft show.
They found a parking spot in a grassy field, then walked through the makeshift lot to the area where the craftsmen had set up, with Chase being careful not to get too close to her. The temperature was still moderate, but the air was humid.
A lady selling handcrafted soap that looked and smelled like chocolate told them the jewelry makers were set up at the far end of the fair. She described Helene Heffinger as a small bleached blonde with a big attitude.
En route they passed a cornucopia of crafts for sale, from custom-designed tote bags to whimsical pincushions to hand-stitched doll clothing. If somebody could dream it up, a crafter was hawking it.
Now that Chase was attuned to Kelly, he noticed little things about her. The delicacy of her profile. The way her hair rustled in the warm breeze. The eagerness in her step as they approached the jewelry section.
The only bleached blonde wore a bright red top, a flowing white skirt and red high-top tennis shoes. She perched on a tall stool above backdrops of black velvet displaying her creations. Deep lines bracketed her eyes and mouth, labeling her a smoker.
Kelly made a beeline for her and reached her first, pulling the photo they’d brought along of Mandy from her purse. She sounded almost breathless when she asked, “Are you Helene Heffinger?”
The woman peered at her above small wire-rimmed glasses as though deciding whether Kelly was worthy of an answer. Definitely not a born saleswoman, Chase thought. “Yeah,” the woman intoned.
Kelly hurriedly introduced herself and Chase, then held out the photo. “We’re looking for a woman who might be one of your customers.”
“What did she do?” Heffinger demanded.
“Do?” Kelly seemed taken aback by the confrontational question. “She didn’t do anything.”
“Is she a missing person then?”
“Well, no.” Kelly said.
“Then she must owe you money,” Heffinger said. “Why else would you be looking for her?”
“It has nothing to do with money,” Kelly interjected, the lie pouring off her like water over a fall. She gazed directly at the jewelry-maker, her eyes clear, her voice earnest. If Chase had been on the receiving end of that denial, he would have believed her. “I’m not the one who needs to find her. Chase is. I’m helping him.”
Heffinger’s gaze shifted to Chase, who was prompted into replying, “She’s an ex-girlfriend.”
“She left her baby with him,” Kelly added while Chase was deciding how much detail tell Heffinger. “His name is Toby, and he’s only a year old.”
Chase might not have shared his story so baldly, but had to admit the strategy paid off. Heffinger definitely seemed interested. “So you think something might have happened to her?”
“Yes! We’re worried about her,” Kelly said, another lie spilling easily from her lips. “We just want to make sure she’s all right.”
“Why come to me?” Heffinger asked.
“We thought you might keep a mailing list of your customers. We’re not sure where she lived before she moved in with Chase. If we had an address, we could check with neighbors to see if she reached out to them.”
Heffinger extended a hand, wordlessly asking for a second look at the sketch. “What’s her name?”
“Mandy Smith,” Kelly answered. “But she might be going by Amanda. She might even be using a different last name.”
Chase remained silent, watching Kelly in action, his doubts about her resurrecting. She was now telling the truth, but seemed no less sincere than she had when she lied.
“Why do you think she’s one of my customers?” Heffinger asked.
Kelly produced the necklace. “This was hers.”
Heffinger fingered the jewelry, turning the necklace over and scowling at the broken clasp before handing it back. “I guarantee my work. She should have brought it back for a refund.”
“Then you do remember her?” Kelly asked, audible hope in her voice.
“A woman didn’t buy this from me. A man did. I remember because he gave me a drawing of a necklace and talked me into making something that looked like it.”
Chase figured he’d kept silent long enough. “How long ago was this?”
“At least a year and a half,” Heffinger said. “Maybe more.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“What do I look like? An elephant?” She huffed. “Like I said, lots of people buy jewelry from me.”
“Do you keep copies of your receipts?”
“’Course I do.” Heffinger sounded affronted. “But I only take cash.”
“So there’s no way to know who bought this necklace from you,” Chase finished.
“Not unless I wrote down his name and phone number on the receipt so I could call and tell him when the necklace was finished.”
That sounded like a distinct possibility to Chase. He dug in the pocket of his khaki shorts and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my cell number and e-mail address. If you come across that phone number, would you contact us?”
“I can’t promise nothing,” she said, but took the card. “It’d take a while to go through my records.”
“One more thing,” Chase said, continuing before Heffinger could get even testier. “Could you help me pick out a piece of jewelry for my babysitter?”
Heffinger suggested a bracelet of colored stones that cost well more than Chase wanted to spend, but to increase the chances that she’d contact them he took her recommendation.
“It’d mean a lot if you checked your records, Ms. Heffinger,” Kelly said after Chase paid for the bracelet. “If we can find that man, maybe we can find Mandy. Like I said, we just want to make sure she’s okay.”
Kelly sounded earnest, the way she had when she told her original story about wanting to return the broken necklace and then again when relating how Mandy had stolen her ATM card.
Since she’d easily twisted the truth to bend Helene Heffinger to her will, the question remained whether Chase could believe anything she said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
KELLY TRIED NOT TO GET discouraged as she and Chase walked away from Helene Heffinger. The jeweler had said she’d check her records, not that she wouldn’t help. But the reality was that, even if Heffinger had information about the man who’d bought the necklace on file, it might not help them find Mandy.
In retrospect, Kelly acknowledged that the lead had been a long shot. She’d been emotionally and physically spent after talking to the bartender at the Blue Haven and had let herself hope that Heffinger would recognize Mandy and provide her new address. A pipe dream.
She wished now that she’d spent the latter part of yesterday searching for fresh clues instead of succumbing to exhaustion. So far she was getting nowhere while her preliminary hearing got closer with each passing day.
“You’re a very good liar,” Chase said.
Her step faltered, her defenses going up like a brick wall. She’d felt so comfortable with Chase during the drive to the craft fair that she’d let herself forget he was in law enforcement.
She’d let herself become attracted to him.
Who was she trying to fool? One of the reasons she’d asked him to team up with her had been that she was already attracted to him. Far too much.
“I only said what I did to get Ms. Heffinger to help us,” she explained. “She wouldn’t have helped if I told her Mandy owed me money.”
He stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts, not looking at her as they weaved through the burgeoning crowd. Most of the women they passed, and quite a few of the men, gave him second looks. She thought it was mostly because they could tell f
rom his carriage he was a man of substance.
Fear that he’d discover her true motives wasn’t paramount in her mind, she realized. She was afraid of him thinking poorly of her. It was a hell of a thing, but there it was.
“It made more sense to tell her why you were looking for Mandy,” Kelly continued. “Your story’s more sympathetic.”
He said nothing. The easy camaraderie of the morning had vanished as completely as the smoke from a barbecue grill.
A half dozen food vendors had set up around a flat, grassy area populated with portable tables and chairs. “I need to get to work as soon as we get back so how about an early lunch?” Chase said as they approached the area. “I’ll buy.”
“That’s not necessary,” Kelly said.
“I thought you were short on cash.” The inflection in his voice hinted he no longer believed that was the case, doubt she’d brought on herself. He was both right and wrong. Mandy hadn’t been the one to clean her out her savings account, but the money Kelly had withdrawn was disappearing fast.
“I am a little short,” she said.
“Then I’ll treat.”
After they ordered, she followed him to a table where he set down their tray of food. The silence between them was so pronounced, the popping of their soda tops sounded like gunfire. He bit into his cheeseburger, but she ignored her chicken sandwich, still chewing on her lie.
The lie that had slipped from her as easily as air from her lungs. The lie that met with his disapproval. But couldn’t he see that all lies weren’t the same, that there were times when lying was necessary? At one period in her life, she’d viewed them as survival tools.
“Lying isn’t always wrong, you know,” she said.
He set down his burger on his paper plate and looked her full in the face for the first time since they’d left Helene Heffinger. “How so?”
She fidgeted, picked up her soda can, put it down without taking a drink. How could she make him understand? “What would you say if a woman asked if her jeans made her look fat?”
He folded his hands over his chest, the line of his mouth as uncompromising as his posture. “If she’s asking, she already knows they make her look fat.”