The Woman Most Wanted Page 8

  “My dad didn’t have a home to go back to, that he knew of. He fostered out of the system at eighteen and joined the army because he had no money or real opportunities. It was a good choice for him. He said he’d not planned on marrying until he met my mom.”

  “And they met here? How?”

  Her dad had told the story, mentioning the store’s name, but not the town and state. She should have asked. Back then, though, as a little girl, she’d just enjoyed hearing her mom and dad’s story, and assumed the store was in Phoenix.

  “My dad was working security at Little’s, and one night someone tried to steal my mom’s purse. He stopped them. She was so shaken up, he drove her home.”

  “What was your mother’s maiden name.”

  “Smith.”

  Gloria snorted. “Not sure how much that helps. We do have some Smiths. I can make a few calls if you want, but I don’t remember a Melanie Smith. How old was she?”

  “She’d have been sixty this year.”

  “I’m sixty-five. I don’t remember a Melanie Smith following me in school, either.”

  “Is your memory that good?” Heather queried.

  “No, but Sarasota Falls was that small fifty years ago.”

  Heather laughed. “I’m from Phoenix. This town is amazingly small to me now.”

  “Well,” Gloria soothed, “you’ve only been here less than a week. It will grow on you. Why don’t you go in the living room and tell the fellas that supper is ready.” She pointed to the doorway and then turned back to the stove. Heather obediently stood and went down a hallway loaded with photos and a few awards. She stopped and looked at them. For Albert, they all had to do with policing. For Gloria, they all had to do with county fairs and bee competitions.

  Heather hadn’t even known that bees and honey were a country fair event. Her memory of the State Fair in Phoenix was of rides, games and crowds. Her mother hadn’t liked crowds, so they’d only gone once.

  Heather rounded a corner to the most beautiful living room she’d ever seen. A giant black-and-beige rock fireplace took up one wall. The front window, even bigger than the fireplace, had its curtains drawn and the view was spectacular. The bright orange sun sat low in the sky, highlighting the plateau of clouds forming a narrow shelf below it. The front double doors were open so the porch, complete with rocking chairs and potted plants, could be seen. There was also a grouping of chairs as well as a television set, which was turned on to the news.

  Both men listened intently to the journalist. Heather cleared her throat. “Gloria says to tell you supper is ready.”

  “Good.” Albert pushed himself up. “The news is depressing me.”

  Chief Riley’s expression was a mixture of anger and sorrow.

  “Son,” Albert said, “the only thing you can do is help make the world a better place, take care of Sarasota Falls. Keep telling yourself that you’re part of the solution and putting on that badge becomes a whole lot easier.” He left the room and a few seconds later Heather heard Gloria say, “I hope you’re hungry.”

  Chief Riley stood, turned off the television and waited for Heather to lead the way. Quietly she did, thinking about the shrewd advice she’d received from her best friend in Phoenix. “You need to sue,” Sabrina had said, yesterday morning when Heather had called her. “It was harassment. False arrest, even.”

  Sabrina was always a bit of a drama queen.

  Truth was, if Chief Riley felt the same heartbreak, about losing his best friend, as Heather felt about losing her parents, then she was willing to cut him some slack.

  Come to think of it, Heather couldn’t imagine life without her best friend, Sabrina, who thought Heather was rash for packing up and moving a whole state away just to find family that may not exist.

  Albert set the pot of chili in the center of the table. Heather sat down next to Gloria and Tom took a seat beside her. The other night, she’d somewhat shared a meal with him, too. It hadn’t gone well and she’d left with an upset stomach. Maybe chili wasn’t such a good idea.

  “You’re smiling,” Chief Riley observed.

  “Just had a funny thought.”

  “Care to share?”

  Heather grinned. “It’s about chili, and I don’t know you well enough.”

  “We’ll have to remedy that,” Albert said. “I love cracks about chili.”

  Heather shook her head, very aware she was sitting so close to the current chief of police that their elbows bumped.

  Albert bowed his head and was halfway through a prayer before Heather bowed her head, too, and thought, Get me through this meal without revealing too much.

  After the “Amen,” Albert stood, ladled a decent helping of chili into her bowl and then Chief Riley’s. The cornbread plate was passed around, and after everyone had the chance to take a few bites, Gloria said, “So, Tom, how’s work?”

  Tom looked at Heather. “Lately, we’ve been busy.”

  “Always something to do when you’re shorthanded and the chief of police.” Gloria’s eyes twinkled as she looked from Heather to Tom. “I’m sure you knew that Heather’s here looking for family.”

  He turned to stare at her. His eyes were unblinking and his expression was a bit accusing. “No, she didn’t mention that the times I spoke with her.”

  “You didn’t ask nicely,” Heather said.

  Albert barked a laugh, and even Gloria smiled. Chief Riley, however, didn’t change his expression. Then he asked, “And your family is...?”

  “Haven’t found them yet.”

  “Their names were William and Melanie Graves,” Gloria said. “What Heather knows is that William, Bill, that is, used to work for Little’s Grocery Store.”

  “There’s got to be a connection—” Tom began.

  Gloria interrupted, “Did you tell all this to Father Joe?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to. By the time I realized he was someone who might be able to help, he got called away and—” she gave Chief Riley a look, then changed direction “—and, he hasn’t returned my call.”

  “When did you call him?” Gloria asked.

  “Yesterday,” Heather admitted. “But really, it was Sunday.”

  Gloria and Albert exchanged a long look, then Gloria said, “Joe’s usually pretty good about getting back to people. But he’s dealing with Lucille Calloway’s death. They were quite close.”

  Even as Gloria said the words, her husband was slowly shaking his head.

  “Did Joe say anything to you when he picked you up from the police station?” Tom finished the last of his chili, put the spoon down and turned to look her straight in the eyes. “I realize we keep dancing around how much you look like Rachel. Father Joe’s been here forever, counseled half the town. He knows secrets that could keep you up half the night.”

  Tom had everyone’s attention, but no one added anything until Gloria snorted. “Joe might know a few secrets, but in Sarasota Falls most secrets are opened just as soon as they’re wrapped. If Bill Graves worked at Little’s Grocery Store, we’ll find someone who knew him.”

  “We’ll?” Albert queried.

  “Yes, we’ll.”

  Albert nodded, finished the last of his chili and asked Heather, “You weren’t born here, though?”

  “No, my birth certificate says Phoenix.”

  “How old are you?” Albert asked.

  “I’m twenty-seven.”

  “So, we’re looking for people who were here possibly thirty years ago.” Albert nodded.

  “How old was your dad?” Gloria asked.

  “He’d just turned seventy-two.”

  “Quite a bit older.”

  “Career army. When he retired, he came here, married my mother and moved with her to Phoenix.”

  “Why did they move?
”

  “They said it was because I was on the way and he got a good job offer.”

  “I’ll talk with the manager over at Little’s,” Tom said. “Your dad should be easy to trace, and we’ll see who else worked there at the time.”

  “I agree,” Heather said. “He might also be a bit of a dead end if he doesn’t have family for me to find.”

  Gloria didn’t hesitate. “But finding out about him will lead to information about your mother, and eventually, maybe more family.”

  Chief Riley stood, picking up his bowl and spoon before heading to the sink. “And what do you intend to do if and when you figure out your connection to Sarasota Falls and possibly meet family?”

  “I’m not sure,” Heather admitted. “I just know that I’ve always wondered about my family. Call it an itch I need to scratch.” She took her last bite of chili, amazed that she’d finished the entire bowl, but definitely feeling its weight in her stomach. At least she hoped it was the chili and not a combination of guilt and worry.

  It was now or never. “Are you finally one hundred percent sure I’m not Rachel Ramsey?”

  Last time she’d asked, his face had been grim. This time, he looked resigned. “Yes, I’m one hundred percent certain.”

  “My best friend, Sabrina, said I should sue you for all you put me through Saturday.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first to try.”

  “I want to go with you when you talk to the store manager. There are a few details I’ve not shared.”

  Chief Riley turned, leaned against the sink and folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t seem surprised. Both Gloria and Albert leaned back, too, clearly interested.

  She hadn’t lied, not really, but that didn’t keep her from feeling a moment’s guilt at what she was about to say.

  “My parents were Bill and Melanie Graves. I have tons of documentation to prove it, however, after they died, I found their safe-deposit box, and the identification inside didn’t correspond to those names.”

  Surprisingly, it felt good to tell someone. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to do it without Gloria sitting there. Chief Riley no longer looked resigned. He looked intrigued.

  At her information, not her.

  “The photos on the drivers’ licenses were my parents, but the names weren’t.” Heather looked at Gloria. “You said a Melanie Smith wasn’t a few years behind you in school. What about a Sarah Lewis?”

  “Oh, my,” Gloria said. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in years.”

  * * *

  TOM HAD BEEN a cop for more than a decade. He’d once arrested his best friend, he’d chased meth dealers out of town, he’d had to tell Mayor Goodman that his daughter was a serial shoplifter and he’d helped solve a murder that had a year later become a true-crime television special.

  Tom hadn’t been too impressed by the cop who’d portrayed him: too pretty.

  He’d even arrived at his partner’s side in time to hear his last words: tell my wife and children I love them.

  But never before had he been handed so many twists and turns in a case.

  “What do you mean that she’s a name you haven’t heard in a long time? Could she have something to do with Rachel Ramsey? Know where Rachel is, maybe?”

  Gloria gave him a dirty look.

  Albert said, “Tom, let her talk.”

  “Sarah Lewis was four years behind me in school.” Gloria settled back in her wheelchair, making herself comfortable, and Tom knew they were in for a long story. “Her sister, Debbie, however, was just one year behind me. You know her stepfather, Tom. He’s Taylor Jacoby.”

  “Oh,” Heather interjected, “I’ve met him. Father Joe introduced me when I went to retrieve my car.” She shot Tom a look that almost made him squirm. “After someone had it towed.”

  “Honest mistake,” he responded.

  “Sarah and Debbie Lewis were raised by Taylor, almost as if they were his. Half the time even the teachers called them by the last name of Jacoby.”

  “So?” Tom asked. “Sarah and Debbie are Tammi’s daughters from a first marriage. I didn’t know she’d been married before.”

  “Yes, her husband died fairly young. The girls were probably three and five when Taylor married their mother.”

  “Anything unusual about the marriage or their home situation?” Tom asked.

  “Nothing unusual except Sarah was really shy. I can remember overhearing one of the teachers say that Sarah never needed to say anything because Debbie said it for her.”

  A talkative woman named Debbie...

  Talkative.

  “Debbie Lewis couldn’t be Debbie Stilwater? She’s not married to my lieutenant, is she?”

  Albert was nodding. “We went to their wedding.”

  “Do you have photos?” Tom asked. “Maybe Heather’s mom would be in them. She was in the wedding, right?”

  Gloria shook her head. “She’d left home already. She married some guy in the air force and lived overseas. Debbie said she couldn’t make it back.”

  “My dad was in the army, not the air force,” Heather said, looking anxious.

  “I need to talk to Debbie Stilwater, then.”

  Tom took out his cell phone and punched a number. After Lucas answered, Tom said, “Your wife still visiting her sister in Tucson?”

  “Yes, she’ll be home tomorrow. Why?”

  “Heather has a few questions for her. I don’t want to go into it now, but I’ll fill you in later. Let me call you back.”

  Tom disconnected and turned to Heather. “I can get you her phone number, or you can wait and talk to her in person on Tuesday.”

  She thought a moment and then said, “I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

  “In the meantime,” Gloria offered, “I can send Albert over to my younger sister’s. She’ll have the yearbooks that have Sarah’s photo in them.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Heather and Tom sat on the living-room couch looking at the high-school yearbook photos of Sarah Lewis.

  “It’s my mom,” Heather breathed.

  “We suspected that,” Tom responded.

  “I know, but seeing her, so young.”

  “I don’t remember her at all,” Tom said.

  “Well,” Albert had said, “she left when you were still in grade school. No reason for her to cross your radar.”

  “The Jacobys are well respected in town,” Tom told Heather. “They never cause trouble. Only time I’ve had to deal with them is when someone tries to break in to the auto repair shop, or occasionally, I’ve had to work on nonpayment issues or his dealing with some irate customer. Taylor’s always had right on his side.”

  Heather touched the yearbook that showed Sarah Lewis during her senior year of high school. “Look at the long red hair,” she murmured. “She always kept it short while I was growing up. Said it was easier. What a funny half smile. It’s as if she had a secret.”

  “All teenage girls have secrets,” Tom said.

  Heather gave a half smile very similar to the one in the yearbook. “Apparently, my mother even had secrets early on.”

  “Gloria’s sister said she remembered Sarah,” Albert told them. “Said she was the quietest girl in school.”

  “I wonder why.”

  “Were you quiet?” Tom asked.

  Heather shook her head. “I wasn’t the rowdiest, but definitely not the quietest. I had my gang of friends. We held our own.” She closed the final yearbook and handed it to Gloria. “Thank you so much for thinking of this. I feel connected to my mother in a way I never expected.”

  “So what are you going to do next?” Gloria asked.

  “I don’t know,” Heather admitted. “I need to think this through. I can’t head over to Taylor Jacoby’s
place and speak to...” Her voice broke. “Is this Tammi still alive?”

  “Oh, yes,” Gloria said. “She is very much alive.”

  “Then she might very well be my grandmother.”

  Tom didn’t know what to do. The urge to comfort Heather had him reaching his arm around her. Wasn’t hard since he sat right next to her on the couch. On the other hand, just forty-eight hours ago, he’d been taking her to jail, convinced she’d helped kill his partner. Even as his arm moved to circle her shoulder, he withdrew. Now was not the time.

  “As much as I’d love to meet my grandmother,” Heather continued, “I can’t just knock on their door out of the blue. What if they don’t know about me? Worse, what if they don’t know about my mother?”

  The room fell silent.

  “I don’t want to be the one to tell them,” Heather whispered.

  “I’ll go with you,” Tom said, “and help explain all this.”

  She stiffened. Not the response he expected.

  “I overreacted on Saturday,” he told her in a low, sincere voice. “I’ve been looking for Rachel for years. Seeing you felt like time was going both backward and forward at lightning speed, and I had to act. Had to.

  “I wish I were wired different, I wish I didn’t make mistakes, but I do. I’m sorry my mistake involved you.”

  For a moment, he thought it wouldn’t be enough. Then, she gave a slight nod. “Okay.”

  And maybe it was, for now.

  The dark evening sky blanketed them when they walked out of the Turner place. He promised that he’d go to Little’s Grocery Store and ferret out some information. She agreed that he could go alone, since she’d already struck out there. He also promised he’d talk to Lieutenant Stilwater and then come get her tomorrow night so they could pay a visit to Debbie Stilwater, née Lewis. And last, he’d promised not to do any other questioning without her that was related to the case.

  As he drove back to town, Tom couldn’t decide if he was looking forward to tomorrow because he’d be one step closer to finding out more about Rachel Ramsey, or because he’d be helping Heather Graves.

  Who wasn’t Rachel Ramsey.