An Accidental Woman (48 page)

When Thea slid him a guilty look, Poppy decided against asking the details of that. It didn't matter how Thea had learned that Heather was her birth mother. What mattered was that she didn't seem traumatized by what had happened.

“Heather has a mind of her own, too,” Poppy told the girl. “She wouldn't tell any of us that she'd had a child, because she didn't want to involve you in this. We had to get your name from someone else, because she doesn't know it. She doesn't feel she has a right to, since she gave you up. She knew you had parents who loved you, and she's grateful for that. She came to Lake Henry with nothing of her past except a little backpack with a letter from the law firm that handled the adoption, and this.” She dug the tiny plastic ID bracelet from her bag and held it out over the table.

“I don't think that's appropriate,” the Andersons' lawyer began. It became a moot point when Thea reached across the table and took the bracelet.

Good for you!
Poppy wanted to tell the girl, because if letting her see her own baby bracelet wasn't appropriate, Poppy didn't know what was. Clearly, the lawyer didn't want the bracelet introduced because it was a personal connection that just might get Thea identifying with Heather, which was precisely why Poppy had brought the bracelet along.

Thea studied it closely.

The lawyer went back to his initial argument. “The issue is time. Let's be frank. We all understand that Althea may have to be involved at some point. We simply want to make sure that, prior to that, every safeguard is in place to protect her.”

Susan McDermott reiterated the reasons why speed was needed, and they went back and forth. When it appeared that neither side would budge, Susan suggested that they take a short break.

Frustrated, Poppy wheeled herself down the hall to the ladies' room. She had just emerged from the largest stall and was approaching the sink when Thea slipped into the room and eased the door closed.

Her eyes were large, filled with a curiosity. “Is she beautiful?” she whispered.

Poppy nodded. “She is. Wait.” She washed and dried her hands, then pulled pictures from her bag. They were the ones Griffin had taken with him to Minneapolis. Watching Thea's face as she turned from one to the next was a sight in itself.

“I've seen pictures in the news,” the girl said, “but it isn't the same. She's happy in these.”

“She has a happy life. She's a lovely person, Thea, beautiful inside and out, and she would do absolutely nothing to hurt you. For the record, she doesn't know I'm here.”

“Why did you come?”

“She's my best friend. There were times when I'd have given up after the accident that put me in this chair, but she wouldn't let me do that.”

“What kind of accident?”

“Snowmobile.”

“Was she there when it happened?”

“She came minutes later.”

“You said she didn't know my name. Doesn't she want to?”

Poppy knew Heather well enough to answer. “She wants to, but she knows it's not smart. Letting you go was too painful. Knowing your name would make you real, and then she would want to know more, maybe want to meet you and get to know you. But you have your own life. She won't intrude on that.”

“Does she know my mother died?”

“No.”

Suddenly sounding more her age, Thea said, “I snuck the adoption papers from Mom's drawer right after she died, and, like, I didn't want to
do
anything with them, I just wanted to have them, y'know? I thought my dad would be upset, so I didn't say anything until this week, but I knew he was following the news, and I wanted him to know I was, too.”

“What grade are you in?”

“Ninth. I go to a private school.”

Poppy figured she was young for the grade. “I'll bet you're smart.”

Thea gave a modest shrug. “Is she? Heather? What does she do?”

“You name it. She cooks. She's good with her hands—she knits and sews. She decorates the house.”

“I can't do those things. What's her best school subject?”

“I didn't know her when she was in school, but she uses her computer a lot, and she's kind of the business manager for Micah, so math is definitely a strong suit.”

“Mine, too,” Thea said eagerly, then frowned. “My mom died of cancer. Does Heather have anything like that?”

“No. She gets bad colds, but that's all.”

“Me,
too.
That's so incredible. My dad never gets colds.”

“He seems like a wonderful man.”

“He is. He's so cool. Like letting me come here today. That's why he made the meeting earlier, so I could do it during lunch hour. A lot of parents wouldn't do that. I watched all the stuff about your town. It looks incredible.”

“We're in the middle of a crisis right now. We had an ice storm that may ruin the sugar season.”

“Sugar season?”

“Maple sap, maple sugar, maple syrup.”

Thea singled out the photograph of Heather and Micah. “His business?”

“Hers, too. She's his muse.”

Thea leaned against the sink, seeming to settle in for a while. “Tell me about a day in her life—like, what time she gets up, what she has for breakfast, what she does after that, you know.”

Susan opened the ladies' room door and murmured a discreet, “There's a little concern out here.”

Poppy could have gone on for a while. She felt the same rapport with Thea that she had always felt with Heather. But the girl was fourteen, and the current meeting was supposed to be protecting her from the past. Though Poppy didn't think she needed protecting, she didn't want to create tension between Thea and her father.

“Okay. I'd better start back,” she said, and wheeled out.

* * *

“Are you okay, pumpkin?” he asked in the gentle, soft-spoken way she loved.

She nodded as she came alongside him. “Are you?”

He smiled sadly and waggled a hand. “It's odd hearing about her, different from reading the paper.”

“Does it bother you?” She knew he might be feeling threatened; she had been in enough Internet chat rooms on the subject of adoption to be aware of that. She wouldn't hurt him for the world. “If it does,” she assured him, “I won't ask anything more. I love you. You're my dad.”

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

“But it's kind of exciting, don't you think?” she asked, because the idea of it all was bubbling up inside her. “It's like discovering a long-lost relative—and for you, too, because you're my dad, so in a way, she's related to you, too.”

He looked unsure, worried again.

“I don't think she killed him,” Thea said.

“But he died. I'm sorry you have to think about that.”

“He's been dead so long, he isn't real to me. It could be a movie, like he's a character in someone else's life.” Her mother, on the other hand, was alive and very real.

“Still,” Norman said, “I'd rather your birth parents had gone on to lead happy and healthy lives.”

Thea took his hand. “That's because you're a good person, and because you love me. No one could be a better dad for me than you.”

Drawing in a breath, he threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. Then, with the same let's-go-get-'em look that he used when he was heading off to a meeting of the shareholders of the bank, he cocked his head toward the conference room.

“Would you like to see where I live?” Thea had asked at the end of the meeting, and Poppy couldn't have possibly said no. Thea hadn't asked out of politeness; there was genuine eagerness there. Poppy shared the eagerness. She wanted to see as much as she could, so that she would have answers if Heather asked.

Norman Anderson had a uniformed driver, but he drove a town car rather than a limo. Poppy and Thea sat in back, with Poppy's chair and carry-on in the trunk. The car was no sooner away from the curb, when Norman put an arm back over the seat and said to his daughter, “You're supposed to be going back to school.”

“For a French review, but I'm okay, Dad. I know enough for the test. I really don't need to review, and if I find that I do, I'll call Tiffany. She's smarter than I am.”

Norman gave her a dubious look and turned to Poppy. “That last is questionable. But how do you argue with your daughter on something like this when she's going into the exam with an A average in an honors course?”

That was how Poppy learned that math wasn't Thea's only strong subject. She learned that Thea's school was an international one, when they drove past the stucco complex and Thea stuck her head out the window to exchange enthusiastic waves with a markedly diverse group on the steps. Poppy saw the house where Thea had spent her youngest years,
saw the park where Thea's mother had taken her to play, saw the stores where they had shopped. She saw the club where Norman played golf and Thea played tennis. She saw the movie theater, restaurant, and record store that Thea favored, because Thea was directing the tour. The girl gave Poppy a running narration, as she instructed the driver where to turn.

Poppy decided that if extroversion was inherited, Thea took hers from her birth father, since Heather was more quiet. Poppy might have resented it, if the girl hadn't been so adorable.

Then the car turned in at the gates of the community where Thea and her father lived now, and there was no way Poppy could protest. She had already given up on making the 4:19 flight, and there was time before she had to be at the airport for the 6:30 one.

“I think I need to call my guy,” Poppy said and dug into her bag for the phone.
My guy.
It was so cool to say that. So easy. So normal.

“What's his name?” Thea asked with enthusiasm.

“Griffin. Griffin Hughes.”

Norman glanced back. “Griffin Hughes? Any relation to Piper?”

“His son. Do you know Piper?”

“Our paths have crossed,” he said in a way that suggested a positive force. “I didn't know he had a son living in Lake Henry.”

“Griffin actually lives in New Jersey, but he's been in Lake Henry helping Micah out with sugaring, what with Heather not there and all.” She punched out the number. “The ice storm's been a nightmare. Griffin dropped me at the airport this morning and was heading back to clear more debris from the sugarbush.” Griffin's line began to ring. “Once the fallen limbs are cleared, the tubing can be repaired, and once that's done, sap will start flowing to the sugarhouse again.”

“Hey,” Griffin said.

Poppy grinned, looked down, and lowered her voice for a little privacy. “Hey yourself. Did you hear?”

“Sure did. Congratulations, honey. You did good.”

“It wasn't me,” she said softly. “Is Micah pleased?”

“You bet. He's holding his breath that Cassie can make a deal. She's working on it as we speak. Meantime, Micah's making syrup again.”

“Did the lights come back on?”

“No, and his generator is on the fritz, so he's doing the filtering by hand. He's apt to drop from exhaustion, but at least the sap isn't lost. Are you at the airport?”

Thea touched her elbow and pointed as they pulled in at a low, sprawling house.

“No. I'll take the later plane. The Andersons are giving me the cook's tour of their lives. We've just pulled up at their house. It's even on one level,” she added with a wink for Thea.

“You'll be on the six-thirty then?”

“Uh-huh. Are you sure it isn't too late for you? You were up early.”

“So were you. Are you tired?”

“A little.”

“Did you manage everything okay?”

“Totally. I have to run, Griffin. I'll call again on my way to the airport.”

“Please. I love you.”

She paused for only half a second. “Me, too.” Before he could respond to that, she pushed the end button and dropped the phone in her bag.

Moments later, from the comfort of her wheelchair, Poppy toured Thea's home. She saw the girl's bedroom, which was green, gold, and tasteful, and the adjoining bathroom, which was twice the size of Poppy's. She saw the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, and the den. Thea was the guide here, too, introducing her to a maid and a cook along the way. When the tour was done, they went out to the patio and sat by the pool.

Poppy would have loved to sit silently and enjoy the warm air and summery scents, if there hadn't been so much to say. Thea wanted to know anything and everything about Lake Henry, and Poppy wanted to know about Thea's favorite foods, favorite bands, favorite sports. The cook brought lemonade. Norman was in and out.

When it was time for Poppy to head for the airport, Thea wouldn't hear of it. “We have to take Poppy to the club for dinner,” she begged her father. “It's so nice there.”

“What about your exam?” Norman asked.

“I'll study. I'll study for an hour now, then more when we get back. You can stay over, Poppy, can't you? I heard you tell Griffin that you'd be getting in very late, and why should you do that, when you can just as easily fly out tomorrow morning? We have a gorgeous guest room. Our travel agent can change your reservations. I have to be at school by eight, anyway. We can drop you at the airport, then go on to school.”

“That'll mean a very early morning for you,” Norman cautioned his daughter.

Thea shot him a look of dismay. “It's okay. I can't let Poppy go to the airport alone.” She turned to Poppy. “Will you stay?”

* * *

“There's been a new development on my end,” she told him. “I know that you'd rather I work through Bud Grinelle, but since he's only going to have to check with you, I thought maybe we could bypass the middle man. So I FedExed the package directly to you for delivery tomorrow morning. It contains letters of agreement and affidavits that lay out our case.”

“Which is?” the man asked politely.

Cassie would have done almost anything to avoid full disclosure. Unfortunately, plea bargaining entailed showing the other side how strong one's case was. This maneuver involved risk. If the plea bargain failed and they went to trial, the prosecution would know her case in advance and be fully prepared. But it couldn't be helped. She did have a strong case. Now she had to convince the attorney general of that.

“We found the child,” she said. “We have a signed agreement from her father allowing her to participate in DNA tests. Heather will submit to the tests, also, so we'll be able to prove that she is the child's mother.
We'll be petitioning to have tests done from blood on the clothing Rob DiCenza wore that night. I understand your state police have it. Our lawyer out there—”

“What lawyer?”

“J. C. Beckett,” she said with some satisfaction. It had been a coup getting J. C. to work on the case. He was a renegade who headed his own firm and had a history of courtroom wins. The prosecution detested him. He, on the other hand, loved to tweak the noses of people in power, and since the DiCenzas were the epitome of that, he was willing to work on the case pro bono. “He's writing up the petition. He doesn't see any reason why it won't be granted, since the evidence is already there. It's a win-win proposition. If it turns out the child isn't Rob's, that's the end of it. If it turns out the other way, we have a whole other ball game.”

“I take it you think the child is his.”

“I
know
the child is his. Heather—Lisa—was not with anyone else. No one, out of all those people your guys interviewed after the accident, even remotely suggested that she was. They made lots of other allegations, but never that. Oh, I know. Rob said that it wasn't his baby. But there's been no other man. No one's come forward to claim that child—not back then and not now.”

There was a brief silence. Then he said quietly, “Go on.”

Pleased that he wasn't fobbing her off on Bud Grinelle but was listening to her himself, Cassie grew bolder. “If the paternity issue falls into place, it gives credence to other arguments we've made that the DiCenzas have refuted. And then there's Aidan Greene.”

“Ahh. So it was you nosing around about him?”

“Yes. And we found him. He was Rob's best friend. He was right there through much of what went on in that relationship, and since he never testified under oath, he can't be charged with perjury.”

“He can be charged with giving misleading information in an investigation.”

“He didn't. We have the transcripts to show it. They're in the pack you'll be receiving. You'll see that Aidan answered every question that he was asked. If the investigators didn't ask the right ones, he can't be held liable for that. Actually,” she said, because she sensed that the DiCenzas
had influenced the investigation, “if your guys didn't ask the right questions, I'd like to know if possibly they were instructed not to look too deeply into Rob's side of this.”

“Let's get something straight. These were not ‘my' guys. I wasn't in office then.”

Cassie liked his defensiveness. “Then it might be in your best interest to take your predecessor to task.”

“That's neither here nor there. What's your argument? Spell it out, please. I don't have all day.”

“We contend that Lisa Matlock was impregnated by Rob DiCenza. When she refused to get the abortion that he wanted, he threatened her life and that of the child, and he did it at the party that night. When she got into her car, her only thought was to get away from him. He came out of the dark and jumped in front of the car. She couldn't stop.”

“She left the scene.”

“She had no idea Rob was dead. She was terrified of him. The fact is, sir, that we have a strong case, should this go to a jury. We have a dark night, lots of cars, and a drunk man running between them. We have a poor, powerless young woman taken advantage of by a privileged, politically powerful man who was older than her. We have a relationship with a history of physical abuse, to which doctors from two different clinics will attest. Those papers are in your pack, too. We have a pregnancy, a demand for an abortion, a threat of physical harm, with an independent witness willing to testify to all three. We have an attempt at a cover-up by the family.”

“Hold on. You have nothing of the sort.”

“We may, by the time we're done. Do all those people who said they saw nothing still love Charlie DiCenza? All we need is one disenchanted soul to admit that he was asked to be kind to their boy. Aidan Greene says it; that's in the sworn statement that he gave to me last week, and a copy of that statement is in your pack. But there's more. If this case goes to trial, we'll put people on the stand testifying that Lisa Matlock wasn't the only woman Rob DiCenza beat.”