Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (36 page)

After reviewing everything, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my abduction and Rose’s murder were connected. But the trick would be to find evidence that confirmed my suspicions.

As I packed up the files, I found a small cassette tape in the bottom of the box. The label read: Interview, Rose Marie Hanson, 10-27-85. Cold dread snaked through me. Could I listen to my mother being interrogated by skeptical detectives without coming unglued? I put the cassette in my pocket and tucked away Marley’s files in the closet.

Ted had a cassette player in his office, and I played the tape. Hearing her voice was surreal. She sounded like me but quieter. I recognized Marley’s voice, and there was another detective too whose whiney high-pitched voice was hard to take. They volleyed questions relentlessly. But she never changed her story. Never stopped pleading with them to find her baby. I cried as I listened to her begging. So young. So scared. So alone. But there was nothing on the tape that gave me any clue who'd taken me. The only thing I learned is that I was named after Rory’s mother. Someday, I’d look for her too.

Kathy Morrissey lived in a cute little bungalow surrounded by a low stone and wrought iron wall. An off-white Lexus sedan sat in the drive, and my heart thrummed when I got out of my car. Asking people about my mother hadn’t made me any friends — so I braced myself for a bad reception from Kathy.

I rang the bell and heard the mumble of a television and heavy footsteps approaching from inside. After a short pause, the door opened, and I was face to face with Kathy Morrissey. Her hair was still red, but the intensity came from a bottle. She smelled of cigarettes and coffee, which didn’t do my stomach any favors. Time hadn’t been kind to her figure and neither was the orange warm-up suit she wore. Probing, dark little eyes stared at me, and her sparse eyebrows formed a vee. "Can I help you?"

"Kathy Morrissey?" She nodded. "Hi, I’m Scotti Fitzgerald, and I believe you knew my mother, Rose Hanson."

Kathy shook her head. "It can’t be."

I pushed back my hair. "I’m told I look a lot like her."

A sweat broke across Kathy’s freckled brow, and she continued to shake her head. She fingered a delicate chain around her neck, but the pendant was tucked beneath her warm-up jacket. She nodded, "You do."

"I’m sorry, to just show up like this. And I didn’t mean to startle you. But I’ve been trying to locate people who knew Rose. Would you mind talking to me for a few minutes?" I smiled brightly and stuck out my pregnant belly. "I’d really appreciate it."

Kathy hesitated, then she shrugged and held open the door. "Okay, sure. Come in."

I stepped into a small room crowded with big, clunky furniture. She fancied heavy wood, dark fabrics and large framed artwork. The dining table was covered with computer parts. An old sweater hung on the back of one of the chairs with some kind of I.D. badge fastened to the front. The TV was tuned in to the Atkinson trial, and I frowned at it. Kathy rushed to turn off the set. "I know, when is this trial going to be over, right?" She waved an arm toward a ruby-colored sectional. "Have a seat." She paused and flicked a look toward the kitchen. "You want coffee or something?"

I sat on the sectional. A full ashtray and half-drunk cup of coffee sat on the coffee table in front of me. "I’m fine, thanks."

Kathy shrugged and sat in a gold velour chair. She studied me. "Now that I’ve got a good look at you, you really do resemble her." She propped pillows behind her back then shrugged. "But it’s been a lifetime since I saw Rose. Everything I know is ancient history."

"I’d appreciate anything at all that you could tell me. I only found out that Rose was my mother recently, so I don’t know that much." I blew out a stuttered breath. "I’ve got so many questions I don’t know where to start. To tell you the truth, I’m a little nervous, so I’ll probably bounce all over the place."

Kathy smiled and confirmed her smoking habit. "No problem, I’ll tell you what I can."

I nodded. "You two were best friends in high school?"

She smirked. "More like we were each other’s only friends. We didn’t exactly run with the popular crowd, if you know what I mean?"

I chuckled. "I guess I take after her in that way. And you were there when Rory died? I imagine that was terrible for her."

Kathy nodded. "She was crushed. Devastated." She pulled a cigarette pack from her pocket and waved it at me. "Do you mind?"

I hunched a shoulder. "It’s your house, right?"

Kathy lit up and sucked in a deep drag. "We worried about Rose. Me and Jen, her sister." She looked at me. "Have you met her yet?"

I nodded. "Yes, we’ve talked a couple times."

She took the ashtray from the coffee table and put it on the arm of her chair, then blew out a smoky breath. "Yeah, she’s a trip." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I, we were both worried Rose might do something."

"Like what?"

Kathy crossed her legs and waggled her foot. "Like hurt herself." She took another deep drag. "We thought after the baby came Rose would come out of it a little but…" she shook her head. "she could barely function. Her spirit was just broken."

I frowned. "So was Rose suicidal?"

Kathy shook her head. "No. Depressed is more like it."

I nodded. "Too depressed to care for the baby?"

Kathy shifted in her seat. "No, that’s the one thing Rose was great at — taking care of the baby. Rose loved that baby so much, we could barely get near it. Half the time she’d insist the baby sleep with her and not in the crib." She pursed her lips. "She was obsessed with the baby."

I frowned. "So, then what do you mean she could barely function? I don’t understand."

Kathy sucked in her lips and looked toward the back of the house. "Hard to explain. She slept all the time. She’d forget that Rory was gone and wanted to call him on the phone. She’d panic if the baby was somewhere she couldn’t see her."

I nodded and smiled. "Aren’t all new mothers like that?" I put my hand on my belly and chuckled. "Mine aren’t even born yet, and I always want a nap, and half the time I don’t know where I am or who I am."

Kathy clenched her teeth into a smile. "Sure, I guess you’re right. But Rose was just…it was like she was wrapped in a cocoon of sadness." She played with the chain around her neck again. "Hard to explain to someone who wasn’t there."

I swallowed hard and clasped my hands in my lap. "What about the night the baby went missing? Do you remember what happened?"

Kathy stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. "I’ll never forget it." She daubed at a dry eye with her hand. "We wanted Rose to go to the movies with us. Get out of that depressing old house. But she wouldn’t budge. Jen and I went without her." She pursed her lips. "Sometimes I think that if we’d stayed, none of it would’ve happened." She looked at me and smiled. "But no one expects something like that is ever going to happen to them, do they?" She shrugged and sighed. "When we got back, the cops were there and Rose was screaming that the baby was stolen. What a nightmare."

"For Rose?"

She stared at the ceiling and shook her head. "For all of us. We loved that baby too. All of us were broken-hearted."

"The police thought Rose lied about the abduction. Did you agree with the police? Think Rose just made up the story?"

Kathy pulled at the sleeves of her jacket. "I didn’t know what to think. Rose wasn’t herself. I just didn’t know."

"Is that why you didn’t go to the police station with Rose? You or Jennifer? Because you thought maybe she made it all up?" I put the back of my hand to my mouth to stifle a sob. "Why she had to face them alone?"

Kathy frowned at me. "You weren’t there. It was so confusing and everything happened so fast. We just came back from a movie, and the cops were taking Rose away, while she was screaming her head off about the baby. One colossal mess. And someone had to stay at the house to tell her dad."

I smiled sadly. "Actually I was there."

Kathy’s cheeks colored. "You were, weren’t you? I didn’t mean to be disrespectful — all this must be blowing your mind." She coughed and cleared her throat. "How’d you find out about Rose, your parents tell you?"

I shook my head. "I never had parents — grew up in foster care."

"You weren’t adopted?"

I shook my head. "Nope. I was found in a church and turned over to Child Services."

"But you were such a cute baby. I’m surprised nobody ever adopted you."

I shifted in my seat. "I guess cute wasn’t enough of a reason." I shrugged. "Lots of foster homes but never anyone who took me home for good."

Kathy shook out her last cigarette and lit up. "Damn weird, if you want my opinion." Then she quickly added, "The kidnappers probably panicked if they dumped you at a church."

"So you do believe I was kidnapped?" She frowned at me. "Because you just said the kidnappers."

Kathy waved her arm. "Yeah. I mean, here you are."

I nodded and held her gaze for a moment. "And, afterwards? How was she? What happened?"

Kathy shrugged, crossed and uncrossed her legs. "It was bad for a while right after you disappeared. They put her in the hospital under sedation the first few days." Kathy shook her head. "She just couldn’t cope. Hysterical."

I nodded. "I can only imagine how tortured she was. First Rory, then the baby."

Kathy grinned and pointed a finger at me. "Exactly, right. It was like she was being tortured." Then she lost her grin and shrugged. "Eventually, Rose came out of it. The cops never found you or whoever took you. She kept after them, but they didn’t give a damn. When she realized they wouldn’t help her, she wrote letters and made phone calls to anybody who might listen. She was so sure she’d find you. You have to give her that — she always believed you were out there, waiting for her to find you."

I nodded tearfully. "And she was right — I was waiting for her to find me."

Kathy studied me. "You’ve got his eyes — Rory. Almost makes me feel like I’m looking at him."

I smiled. "You knew him well? Was he a good man? Did he treat Rose right?"

Kathy fiddled with the chain around her neck and stared at her cup of cold coffee. "He was the best." Her eyes sparkled with unspent tears. "He died too young. They both did."

I smoothed my maternity top and cleared the lump from my throat. "Will you tell me what happened the night of the robbery?"

Kathy bowed her head and fisted her eyes. "Worst night of my life." I said nothing. She sighed loudly. "If I’d just stayed there, Rose would be alive."

I leaned forward. "You can’t blame yourself. I’m sure Rose wouldn’t want that."

Kathy chuckled softly. "You’re right, Rose always saw the good in people. Maybe a little too much."

"What makes you say that?"

Kathy stared at the full ashtray as though it would produce a fresh cigarette. "Rose gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, whether they deserved it or not. And that’s what I think happened that night. Some doper came in looking for money, and Rose tried to talk him out of it, help him? He thinks she’s a pushover and he can get something out of it, and then it went ass backwards."

"Because of the ring?" Kathy shot me a startled look. "It was in the police reports. He took the money from the register and Rose’s ring. The one Rory gave her. You think Rose wouldn’t give it up?"

Kathy bobbed her head. "Exactly! She was so stubborn. All she had to do was let go of it. "

"But how could she? It was all she had of Rory. If somebody wanted my wedding ring, they’d have to cut my hand off to get it."

Kathy scowled. "It was a cheap little ring. Rose acted like it was the crown jewels or something." She jabbed her finger in the air. "Not worth dying over."

That took the wind out of my sails, and I nodded. "Right." Tears pooled in my eyes. "When you found Rose in the alley, was she already gone?"

Kathy shook her head. "No, but barely alive."

I frowned. "But you thought there was a chance, right? Because you moved her thinking you could revive her?"

Kathy looked at me sharply. "Right. I was so shocked, I guess I didn’t even realize that I moved her."

I leaned forward. "Did she say anything? Anything at all?"

Kathy shook her head. "She seemed to know me — recognize me. But she couldn’t talk." She wiped at her eyes and sniffled. "And then she was gone." She stared at the floor and sighed. Then she stood. "I wish there was more I could tell you."

I got to my feet. "Oh, no you told me plenty, and I really appreciate it." I squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

Kathy walked me to the door — her hand at the small of my back. "For all the good it did. But sure, any time."

I turned to her. "I can come see you again? If I have more questions?"

Kathy’s eyes flitted to the door. "Sure."

I scanned the living room. "I guess you don’t still have anything of hers? Any pictures or anything?"

Kathy fingered the chain around her neck again and shook her head. "No. Sorry. And to be honest, I got rid of it years ago." She hugged herself. "Couldn’t bear being reminded of all of it."

I tilted my head and raised my brows. "Not even the happy times?"