Love at First Sight (13 page)

Vandermullen shook his head. “The truth is, I realized it was over. I couldn’t keep trying to protect her. Liz was on her own. Just the way she wanted it.”

“Then you didn’t hear about the murder until the next morning?” Jack pressed.

“No, not until the police called,” he said, then seemed to mull over his thoughts for a moment. “I’m quite a bit older than Liz was. Maybe that was the problem.”

“Or maybe it was losing the baby,” Karen suggested, surprising them all, she noticed.

“Our daughter, Joanna?” Vandermullen exclaimed.

So he hadn’t known that Denny was the baby’s father? Or he did and wasn’t admitting it? But it answered one question. There
had
been a baby at least. And it could have been Denny’s.

“Why on earth would you want to know about the baby?” Vandermullen asked, sounding upset. “It’s been more than sixteen years.” He downed the rest of his drink and got up to pour himself another. “It was a tragic loss for us. Liz was devastated since she was unable to have other children.”

“It was a home birth?” Karen asked.

Again Vandermullen looked surprised. “Why are you asking about this now? I thought you were trying to solve her murder.”

Karen shrugged. “I’m sorry, I just know that the
baby was on Liz’s mind. She’d mentioned the girl would be sixteen now. If she’d lived,” Karen said, making it up as she went from what Jack had told her and what she and Denny suspected.

“Why would Liz mention the baby to
you?
” Vandermullen asked, appearing shocked by that revelation.

“I assume because of the girl’s birthday this month and maybe because Joanna Kay is buried here in Missoula,” Karen said, noticing that she was making both Vandermullen—and Jack—uncomfortable.

“She told you a lot about…our daughter,” Vandermullen said as he sat down again and took a drink. “Yes, it was a home birth. It’s what Liz wanted. She was deathly afraid of hospitals.”

“The baby died?” Jack asked.

Vandermullen nodded. “She was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck.”

“How horrible,” Karen said sympathetically. “How was it that the baby was born here and not in Columbia Falls?”

Vandermullen’s gaze locked on hers. “This was Liz’s hometown. She wanted her baby to be born here. Sentimental, I guess.”

“Probably the same reason she wanted your daughter buried here,” Jack said, putting down his glass as he got to his feet. “We really should be going. Thank you for your candor.”

Karen stood, wondering if the temperature in the room had dropped or if it was just her imagination.

“Anything to help you find Liz’s killer,” the doctor said, walking them to the door.

A
S THEY DROVE AWAY
, Jack looked over at Karen. “Good work,” he said. “Although you did make me a little nervous.” More than a little nervous. She’d upset Vandermullen. With one woman already dead, Jack didn’t like Karen upsetting the suspects.

Not that she wasn’t already in danger. He just couldn’t help feeling protective when it came to her.

Karen didn’t answer. She seemed deep in thought. Probably thinking the same thing he was. About Denny’s baby. How tragic for his friend. If only Liz had kept it to herself. What had she hoped to gain by telling him about Joanna
now?
It seemed so cruel. And it made Jack wonder if Liz
had
been in her right mind.

Not that he’d liked Vandermullen. Nor been sympathetic to the man’s plight. But maybe it did give them a little insight into Liz in the hours before her death.

Maybe Vandermullen had been right to worry about his ex-wife. Her behavior was definitely bizarre. Telling Denny about a baby that had been dead for sixteen years. Hooking up with a complete stranger through a personal ad. Having a “relationship” with a man she knew nothing about—not even his name.

“He’s lying,” Karen said as Jack turned on Greenough.

“What?” he asked, swiveling his gaze to her.

“He’s lying. Liz didn’t hate hospitals. She worked as a candy striper in high school and wanted to be a nurse. I remember because it seemed at odds with a girl who ran with bikers and didn’t show much interest in school. She used to borrow my notes in biology after skipping the class most mornings. I’d forgotten about that.” Karen looked over at him. “Does that sound like some
one who was afraid of hospitals and wanted to take the chance of having her baby anywhere but in a hospital?”

He stared at her.

“If Vandermullen lied about that, then who says he didn’t lie about the baby being born dead?” she demanded.

“For what possible reason?”

“I know it’s been sixteen years, but he didn’t seem upset enough over losing the only child the two of them would ever have,” she said. “Maybe he knew the baby wasn’t his. He was a doctor, for crying out loud. He could probably count up to nine months. Maybe he talked Liz into giving the baby up for adoption but to save face, let everyone believe it had died. Couldn’t a man in his position fake a birth—and death—certificate?”

Her logic still scared him, but unfortunately often made a strange kind of warped sense. It fit Vandermullen. The kind of guy who’d only want his own kid with his own genes. Probably why they’d never adopted a child.

“You think Liz would go along with giving up her baby like that?” Jack asked.

Karen shrugged. “If she loved Vandermullen and knew he wouldn’t accept her daughter for his own, yes. But she was bound to regret it. Maybe that’s why she went to Denny with the truth. She wanted his help to find her daughter and make amends. She’d just divorced Vandermullen. It all ties together.”

Jack had to admit it did tie up pretty nicely. Maybe a little too nicely. “Why did she go to the cemetery, then, if she knew there was no baby buried there?”

Karen bit her lower lip in obvious contemplation.
“Because, if I’m right, then the grave has been her only connection with her daughter for sixteen years.”

Like a blade of ice, her words pierced his heart. He couldn’t shake that image of Liz Jones beside her daughter’s grave.

“Even if you’re right, we have no way to prove it,” he said, always the cop. “Liz is dead and Vandermullen is sticking to a completely different story.”

“There has to be a way,” Karen said, her voice full of determination. “The answer is in that grave.”

He looked over at her. “Don’t even say it.”

“Jack, you know if I’m right, Vandermullen would never let us have the grave opened and any proof we might have been able to find probably died with Liz.”

He stared at her. She couldn’t seriously be considering— He swerved to keep the car on the road. Boy, had his first impression of this woman been off.

“Grave robbing is a felony, Karen, and I’m a cop.” A cop on suspension, but still a cop.

“Then I’ll do it myself,” she said.

He glanced over at her again. “I can’t let you do that.” But he could tell by the look in her eyes that stopping her would be a whole other matter.

“Would you take me by my shop?” she asked sweetly. Too sweetly.

But how could he deny her such a simple request? He waited while she went into the back for a few minutes. She returned dressed in all black, carrying a bag that clunked suspiciously of tools.

“Karen—”

“Haven’t you ever done something that you know is wrong, but you did it for the right reason?” she asked.

Oh, yeah.

Clouds scudded across the moon, dropping a cloak of darkness over the cemetery. Only a twinkling of stars lit the night sky. A breeze stirred the new buds on the deciduous trees and whispered in the tall evergreens as Jack boosted her over the six-foot-high chain-link fence that surrounded the silent graveyard.

Karen dropped onto the grass on the other side with a soft thud, then stood back as he tossed over the bag of tools. She couldn’t help shivering at the sight of all the gravestones that glowed white as skeletons even in the darkness.

She watched Jack scale the fence and drop effortlessly beside her. He looked at her, his gaze questioning. It wasn’t too late to turn back.

She shook her head slowly and glanced past him to the rows and rows of headstones. The mere thought of
digging up the grave filled her with trepidation, but she believed in her heart that the answer to Liz’s death was in this cemetery, buried in that baby’s grave.

Just thinking about the baby unnerved her. What if she was wrong? What if the baby really had died and Vandermullen was telling the truth?

No. He’d lied about Liz’s fear of hospitals. He could have lied about the baby. Liz wouldn’t have been looking for her child unless she believed Joanna Kay was alive.

Karen and Jack stood in silence for a long moment. As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she could make out the long line of railroad cars just across the road. On the other side of the cemetery, car lights flashed high on the hillside where Interstate 90 cut across the state.

I
N THOSE FEW MOMENTS
, Jack had time to contemplate the strange turn his life had taken since meeting his Girl Next Door. The irony of it didn’t escape him.

His job was in serious jeopardy, he’d just interviewed a suspect in a case he wasn’t supposed to be near, he’d lied about getting married and now he was standing in the cemetery in the middle of the night with a shovel.

He wondered if Karen had any idea what kind of effect she had on men. Or if he was just the lucky one.

Of course he’d argued that grave digging was illegal. That the thing to do was wait and try to get a court order to have the body exhumed. That grave robbing probably wouldn’t be good for her after her accident.

But even as he’d offered excellent arguments, he could see he wasn’t making a dent in her reasoning.

“You left out that it is probably morally wrong and will make for very bad karma,” she said when he’d finished, obviously not in the least dissuaded.

“Follow me,” Jack whispered and picked up the tool bag. Denny had said the grave was on Hope, one of the narrow roads that wove through the dark cemetery.

Jack led the way through the maze of white headstones, expanses of dark grass and winding roads with names like Charity. Faith. And finally, Hope.

Following Denny’s directions, he moved through the graves with Karen close behind. The moon broke free of the clouds. He stopped to get his bearings, feeling the steady thump of his heart inside his chest. God, he didn’t want to do this.

But as he looked over at Karen he knew she was going to do it—with or without his help. And one way or another this would end any more speculation about why Liz Jones Vandermullen had come back to Missoula. And for him, it would answer a lot of questions about Liz herself.

Jack knew that if Liz really had been searching for her daughter, it was possible that’s what had gotten her killed. It would definitely change Jack’s approach to finding her killer—and keeping Karen safe.

But if Liz and Denny’s daughter was in this small grave… Well, then he’d have to accept that Dr. Carl Vandermullen was telling the truth and that Liz had been killed by some stranger she’d picked up in the personals column.

As Jack neared the spot where Denny had said he’d find Joanna Kay Vandermullen’s grave, he saw some
thing even more unnerving. A shovel. It lay next to a gravestone ahead of them. It looked as if there were fresh dirt on the shovel.

As he and Karen stepped closer, Jack saw that someone had been digging up one of the graves. He knew before the moon cast its eerie light on the stone that it was Joanna Kay’s grave.

The headstone was small and simple. Just the baby’s name and date of birth and death. Jack felt a sliver of ice wedge itself in his chest. Someone else wanted to see what was buried here.

He glanced around, seeing no one, hearing nothing but silence. Not even a breeze whispered through the cemetery. Not even the rustle of a squirrel or a dried leaf. Nothing moved.

Jack looked over at Karen. She seemed paler in the moonlight, her freckles in stark contrast, her eyes wide and fearful. But her look was determined, even more convinced that they were on to something. It certainly seemed she was right.

He put down the bag of tools and pulled out a shovel. Slowly he began to dig where the last grave robber had left off.

T
HE TIME PASSED
in a blur of moonlight and darkness. Earth spilled from Karen’s shovel in hypnotic repetition. They hadn’t spoken, just worked, neither wanting to talk about what they were doing or why. She suspected, he feared, like her, they would find a small body in the grave. She didn’t want to think what that would do to Denny. He wanted so desperately to believe his daughter was alive.

She’d tried to lose herself in the labor, avoiding thoughts of what they were digging up. Jack had argued she shouldn’t shovel, but she’d won him over by assuring him she needed something to do.

She tried not to think at all, but thoughts scudded by like the clouds overhead. Mostly she thought of Jack, her heart welling with her love for him. Funny, but while she couldn’t remember falling in love, she knew she had, and obviously at first sight. Why else would she have agreed to marry him the way she had?

How odd to fall so desperately in love when so much was going on in her life. For so long, she’d lived a rather uneventful life. Now, according to Jack, not only had she fallen in love and gotten married, she’d become a witness in a murder case, been almost killed in a hit-and-run and was now helping solve a sixteen-year-old mystery.

This was so unlike her. She hardly recognized herself. But, she had to admit, she was happier than she’d ever been. And Jack Adams was the reason. Being with him was definitely exciting in more ways than one.

Jack struck something with his shovel. He froze, his gaze coming to her.

She held her breath as he began to clear the dirt from around the small coffin so he could get the crowbar under the lid. She closed her eyes in a silent prayer, then opened them as she heard the sharp crack of the seal breaking.

“Hand me the flashlight,” Jack whispered.

She did and watched the sphere of gold light fall across the tiny coffin. Jack seemed to brace himself, his gaze touching hers gently, then he lifted the lid slowly and shone the light inside.

He let out a curse.

She gasped, her hand going to her mouth. At first all she saw was a baby dressed in white. Then the light fell on the baby’s face and she realized it was nothing more than a doll.

She felt tears rush to her eyes, unable to hold them back. No baby. Joanna Kay Vandermullen wasn’t here. She bit her lip to hold back the avalanche of emotion as she looked down at Jack. Her heart surged with hope that the girl was alive.

He stood for a long moment, the flashlight hanging from his fingertips, his arm at his side, the circle of light glowing on the bottom of the grave. He didn’t seem ready to climb from the hole. She wondered if he felt as sick inside as she did. He looked weak with relief and disgust. Someone had buried a doll in a baby’s coffin. Someone had pretended that Joanna Kay had died at birth.

That someone had to be Dr. and Mrs. Carl Vandermullen. Did that mean that Liz
had
been searching for her baby? Is that what had gotten her killed? Had she found the mystery man she’d advertised for?

Or was Joanna Kay dead—just not buried here?

Jack clicked off the flashlight and climbed out of the hole. The moon disappeared behind a cloud, dropping a veil of darkness over them. Only a little light seemed to leak out over the mountains to the east.

They had to get out of here. Before the groundskeeper caught them. They had to tell Denny what they’d found. Joanna Kay could be alive.

Jack stuffed the tools into the bag. He picked up the
bag then froze, his body alert. Karen heard it, too. The unmistakable sound of a footfall. The faint rustle of clothing. Just yards away, the clink of something brushing against one of the tombstones. Someone was out there. Hiding. Watching them.