Different Paths (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-eight

“I’ve never heard of DES.”

Neither had Queenie.

“And poor Tricia. No wonder she looks so miserable and worn out all the time.”

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “Come on, Queenie. We have some investigating to do.”

The Indian Valley Public Library was just down the street. I drove there, hoping I’d make it before it closed. I pulled into the parking lot with fifteen minutes to spare.

“Be right back, Queens.”

She looked out the passenger window, showing her complete lack of interest in whatever I was doing if it didn’t include her.

The librarian looked irritated as I signed up for a computer. She obviously was ready to close down the machines and head out for the day. I promised I wouldn’t be long.

Once I was logged on I punched in “DES,” not knowing what to expect. I got hundreds of hits, and clicked on a main one—DESaction.org. It was a gold mine.

DES, or diethylstilbestrol, however the hell you pronounced
that
, was an estrogen supplement given to pregnant women from the 30s to the 70s, with the belief that it prevented miscarriages and premature deliveries. It was finally taken off the market when it became clear that not only didn’t it work, but it caused terrible health problems, namely a higher rate of breast cancer in the users, and a high risk of a rare cervical cancer in the babies whose mothers took the drug.

If you were a DES daughter and didn’t know your mother took the drug you weren’t getting the special testing necessary to find the cancer. Apparently, the usual exam we women all have to live through once a year isn’t good enough. And if you hadn’t gotten the test and were diagnosed only when symptoms began you didn’t have much chance of overcoming the disease.

The timeline made sense. Tricia’s mother would’ve been pregnant during the 60s, years the drug was heavily in use. And Tricia’s mother herself died of breast cancer.

Katherine had to be worried, too, that she might get the disease. I wondered if she’d gotten the special exam, or had started now that Tricia was ill.

“We need to close this terminal down now, ma’am.” The librarian hovered over my shoulder.

“All right. I’m done.”

I could look up more at home.

I climbed into my truck and stroked Queenie’s head while I considered what to do. The first step was obvious. I drove down the block and stopped at the police department.

The same officer was at the desk. “Back so soon?”

“Yeah. Willard still here?”

“I think so. Let me check.” He called on the intercom, then buzzed me through. “You just caught him.”

“Thanks.”

I found Willard in the big room with Meadows, who was sitting at a large-screened computer, studying fingerprints. Willard held his briefcase in one hand and his keys in the other. “Make it quick. I’ve got a date with my wife.”

I dove right in, telling him what I’d discovered.

“DES?” His forehead furrowed. “You ever hear of that, Meadows?”

Meadows shook his head.

“Think about it,” I said. “David’s obviously getting desperate. He’s looking for alternative medicine for Tricia. Takes Carla’s truck, which had drugs. Goes to Dr. Peterson, who also has drugs, and she won’t help him, so he…he kills her. Tries at the gym. It all fits.”

“And the church? The milk truck?”

“I don’t know. He’s just mad, I guess. But he’s on steroids. He’s prime for going into rages.” I looked at Meadows. “You match his prints yet?”

“I haven’t had that much time since you left. I’m working on it.”

“I know, I know. Sorry.”

Willard looked thoughtful. “It does make sense, Stella. Maybe you have caught the guy, after all.”

He clapped Meadows on the shoulder. “Meadows is on it. We should know this afternoon.”

“Well. Good.” I hoped for everyone’s sake he was right.

Chapter Thirty-nine

“Up for one more stop, Queenie?”

She blinked at me, ever the patient companion.

I turned the truck onto Telford Pike and in fifteen minutes found myself in Kulpsville. Slowing when I neared the church, I saw Katherine’s car and pulled in.

All of the doors were open, so I walked in and tapped on the door to her office. She called for me to come in.

“Stella! What a nice surprise!”

She might not think so later.

I glanced at the computer, where she was sitting, hands perched on the keyboard. “Got a minute?”

She took her hands away and turned to face me. “Of course. Have a seat. I’m just putting the final touches on my sermon for tomorrow. Want it to be extra good, being the first one and all.” She smiled, but looked a little anxious at the thought.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering what I was going to say and why I was actually there. What would it help? I finally said, “I’m sorry to hear about Tricia.”

She frowned. “Tricia? What about her? She already called to say they made it home to Lancaster.”

“I mean, about her being sick. I didn’t know.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Sick? Tricia’s not sick. At least, she wasn’t when she left this morning.”

I went cold. Did she really not know? “I mean about her…cancer.”

Katherine’s face went white, then blotchy red. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tricia doesn’t have cancer.”

I swallowed. Was I wrong? Was Snake completely off-the-mark? “I heard…someone at the gym told me she was…that she has it.”

“At the gym?” She snorted. “You mean one of David’s body building buddies?”

I nodded.

“I wouldn’t exactly take what they said to heart.” She gave a crooked smile. “Why would they know and not me? Her sister?”

“I don’t know.” And I couldn’t explain it. As soon as Nick was sick, his entire extended family knew, as well as his neighbors and everyone in my neck of the woods. And now his family wouldn’t leave him alone.

“I guess I got bad information. I just…I was in town and wanted to say I’m sorry that I didn’t know.” I stood up. “I’ll go. Sorry to disturb you.”

Her face had gone hard. Well, hard for her, anyway. Even in that state it was kind. “You never disturb me. You’re always welcome. And thank you for thinking of me.”

“Sure.”

She made a move to rise, but I waved her down. “I can see myself out. Thanks.”

I didn’t quite run, but by the time I reached my truck, the front door of the church hadn’t even shut.

Chapter Forty

I sat in my truck, staring at the church and thinking about sisters who don’t tell each other their secrets. And how bad communication could destroy a relationship. I sighed, knowing there was something I should do, but not wanting
at all
to do it.

“Think Carla’s at home, Queenie?”

Queenie angled her eyes toward me.

“I know. She probably doesn’t want to see me.”

I didn’t exactly want to see her, either, but I had to try.

We drove to her place, only to find it dark and empty, except for Concord, who did his usual whining behind the door.

The next stop was the veterinary practice. I’d forgotten this would be her first day back at work since the car-jacking.

“She’s out on a call,” the receptionist told me. “Doylestown.”

Ugh. “Know when she’ll be back?”

“Not for hours, I would think. She has another appointment after this one. Want me to give her a call?”

“No. I need to see her. I’ll catch her later.”

“She’s popular today.” The receptionist smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“That new boyfriend of hers was in here, too, looking for her.”

“Oh, yeah? What did he want?”

She gave a short laugh. “I didn’t exactly ask.”

Of course not. But why didn’t he just call her? Unless she’d left her phone off again.

Back in the truck. My foot was starting to hurt.

“If it’s David, it’s not Bryan, right?”

Queenie looked uncertain.

“Yeah, I don’t know, either. But still…”

I drove to the Home Depot. Scanning the vehicles in the parking lot, I couldn’t find Bryan’s Tundra. I even went to the side, where employees usually park. I found an empty spot, and took it.

“I’ll be right back, Queenie.”

The customer service girl, who didn’t look like the kind to be hauling heavy tools, said Bryan wouldn’t be in until later that afternoon.

And he was out looking for Carla.

For the first time I found myself wishing I had a cell phone.

I raced home and maneuvered my way to the garage. My driveway was beginning to look like a parking lot. Lucy’s Civic, Randy’s Caddy, Nick’s Ranger…and Miranda’s Lexus, parked around the back.

Oh, God.

I stormed into the house, ignoring the eyes that bored into me as soon as I got in the door. Nick’s computer was still on the kitchen table, plugged into my phone jack again. I took it out and dialed Carla’s number.

“What do you want, Stella? I’m busy.”

“Hey. Carla. Are you alone?”

“No, I’m not alone. What do you think? I’ve got two farmers accompanying me on a herd check.”

“Okay.”

“Why?”

“Um, did Bryan find you?”

“Stella, I’m working. He’s working. It’s real life now. Not like the past several days.”

“He’s looking for you.”

“And you know that because…?”

“Your receptionist told me.”

A pause. “I’m not even going to ask why you were talking to her about Bryan. Can I get back to work now?”

“I just—”

But she’d hung up.

I went to the fridge and pulled out another pop, drinking half of it before I’d even shut the door.

“A new kind of air conditioning?” Nick stood in the doorway.

I shut the fridge. “What’s your sister doing here?”

He gave a tight-lipped smile. “She wants to get to know you better.”

“Uh-huh.” I took another swig. “She convince you to go back to Virginia yet?”

“Stella.”

I finished off the Pepsi and tossed the can into recycling. “Okay. Fine.” I went into the living room where Miranda sat on the sofa.

“If you’re staying, you can have the second bedroom on the right upstairs. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

And I went back outside.

Lucy was coming toward the house. “Thought with this big crowd I’d make some sloppy joes for lunch. Sound good?”

“Whatever.” I kept walking, past the barn, through the paddock, past the manure lagoon. Out to the back pasture, where the mother-to-be corner was empty. I sat on the grass, my back against the single tree, and stared at the line of houses bordering the fence.

I heard footsteps, and Queenie shoved her head onto my lap, licking my face.

I pushed my forehead against hers. “Oh, Queenie. Maybe we’re better off just the two of us, huh? We sell the farm, become millionaires, and travel the world without worrying about anybody else.”

She slumped down onto my lap.

“Yeah. Sounds awful, doesn’t it?”

We sat there for a while, me picking burrs out of her fur and thinking about Nick, and Miranda, and women who don’t tell their own sisters that they’re dying, until my stomach began to growl. Queenie looked up at me.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

The rest were gathered around the kitchen table, where Lucy was saying grace. An empty chair sat between Nick and Randy, and I took it.

“Randy has a black eye,” Tess said, when the prayer was over.

“Tess!” Lucy looked horrified. “We don’t need to—”

“Miranda wants to know what he did.”

Miranda gasped, and her face bloomed red.

Randy’s face was about the same color, and he put a hand to his forehead.

Nick grabbed my knee under the table, and I knew he was trying not to laugh.

“What?” Tess looked at her mom, who was sitting with her mouth open.

“It’s just, we don’t…”

“I got in a fight.” Randy dropped his hand. “I was stupid, I lost my temper, and…” He pointed at his eye. “That’s what happened.”

Miranda grimaced.

“But,” Randy said, “you should see the other guy.”

I let out a laugh, and Randy looked sideways at me. And grinned.

Tess’ eyebrows crinkled. “What?”

Randy shook his head. “Nothing. But it was dumb. I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve just…”

We all waited.

“I don’t know. But something else.”

I glanced at Miranda, who avoided my eyes. I guessed we should “something else,” too, before things got any worse.

Lucy looked closer at Randy’s face. “Did you go to the doctor?”

“Nah. He would’ve just told me to ice it, anyway.”

“Who’s your doctor?”

“Dr. Peterson.”

I sucked in my breath. “Rachel’s dad?”

He looked confused. “Who?”

“Never mind.”

I met Lucy’s eyes, and dropped the subject.

We finished lunch without any more touchy conversation, everyone full after Lucy’s quick make-in-the-pan chocolate cake.

Zach looked at Randy. “You ready?”

“Sure. Thanks for lunch, Lucy.”

I watched as Randy scooted his chair in. “Where are you off to? Simeon?” His calf.

“Nah. We’re going to…to the pool.”

I raised my eyebrows. “To swim?”

“Yeah. I figured I’d better. And it’ll feel good on my eye, anyway.”

“Good plan.”

“We’re off, too,” Lucy said. “If you wouldn’t mind cleaning up the kitchen. Lenny and I told Tess we’d take her to see the new Disney movie, and there’s a matinee at two. I’ll be back for milking.”

I looked at Nick, and he nodded.

“We’ll do milking tonight,” I said. “Why don’t you folks take the rest of the day.”

“Again?”

“We’ve got extra help.” I had to swallow a laugh on that one.

“If you’re sure.”

“Yup. Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re very welcome.” She left, taking Tess with her.

“Hey, Stella?” Zach was back. “Can you give us a jump? Randy’s car won’t start.”

Nick stood. “I’ll do it.”

“But—”

And he was gone. Miranda still sat at the table, looking at her half-empty plate.

I opened the dishwasher and began putting silverware into it. Miranda’s chair soon scraped back, and she started to bus the rest of the plates.

“What’s the problem with the kid’s—Randy’s—doctor?”

“What?”

“I saw the look you gave Lucy when he mentioned it. Dr. Peterson, was it?”

I looked at her. “His daughter was murdered this week. She was
my
doctor.”

“But that’s awful.”

“Yes. It is.”

Nick came back into the kitchen. “I’m going to follow the guys to the welding shop.” Zach’s dad’s place.

“Why?”

“The Caddy doesn’t sound so good. I want to make sure they get there.”

“Can I come?” Miranda.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

And he was gone again. The ass.

We didn’t talk anymore, and the kitchen was soon clean. I got the dishwasher going and turned to lean against the counter.

“So why are you here, Miranda?”

Her mouth twitched. “Why do you think?”

“To convince Nick to come home.”

“Like I could. You think he’ll listen to me?”

“So why else?”

She crossed her arms. Uncrossed them. “Because Mom made me.”

A flash of anger went through me. “To check up on him?”

“No! No. She wanted…” She ran her fingers through her hair, then flung her hands to the sides. “I’m supposed to see where you’re living and…and…”

“
Get to know me
?”

Her lips twisted into a sort of smile. “Yeah.”

“Who does she think she is?”

She gave a little laugh. “She thinks she’s my mother.”

I looked out the window. “Well, I guess we’ll see how it goes.”

“I guess.”

“I’m going to work.”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. It’s my work.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You want to come?”

She glanced down at her clothes. “Should I change?”

Just like Missy.

“Yes. I’ll meet you out in the heifer barn.”

“Okay.”

Queenie didn’t greet me at the door, so I figured she must’ve gone with Nick. I walked to the heifer barn, which was mostly empty this time of day. Empty of cows, but full of shit. And the shovel was gone.

Another trip, to the big barn to get that shovel and tape a new bag over my cast. I also grabbed an extra pitchfork for Miranda.

Back in the heifer barn I began scraping the dirty straw toward the conveyer belt that would transport it to the manure lagoon. It might be a new barn, but the heifers made the new barn just as dirty as the old one.

I stopped to take a breather, wiping sweat from my forehead, when I heard the door open.

“Got a pitchfork here for you, Miranda.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

I looked up at the sound of a man’s voice. Alan Hershberger.

“Hey.”

He smiled, and I figured he mustn’t have talked with Katherine since I’d hit her with the bad news. “Hey, yourself. Working on your own today?”

My stomach tightened, and I looked behind him. “How about you? You alone, or did you bring the rest for another tour?”

“I’m alone. Looking for Trevor, actually. He took off this morning and I don’t know where he went. He won’t answer his phone.”

He sighed and looked around the barn, hands in his pockets. “Stinks in here, doesn’t it?”

“Well, it is a barn.” I waited. “Look, Alan, Trevor’s not here. Why would he be?”

“I don’t know. He liked the tour the other day.”

Right. And Miranda would soon sprout wings and fly on back to Virginia.

“He said something about maybe doing some work here. Checking in to see if you needed someone.”

My incredulous reply was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. I scooted past Alan to pick up the extension, leaning the shovel against the wall.

“Royalcrest Farm.”

“Stella? It’s Willard.”

“You have news?”

“Well, sort of. Do you happen to know if the Hershbergers have a cell phone?”

I glanced at Alan, and he was looking at the shovel I’d brought from the barn. “I don’t know. Why?”

“We got a match on the fingerprints, so we need Alan and his son to come in so we can eliminate them and get David back here. Nobody’s answering their home phone.”

I swallowed. “So I was right.”

“It appears so.”

I looked at Alan, sorry for what he was about to go through. I spoke into the phone. “Well, I don’t know about a cell phone, but Alan’s standing right beside me. You can talk to him.”

“He’s there?”

“Looking for Trevor. Here.” I held out the phone. “It’s Detective Willard. He needs to talk to you.”

“Who?”

“A cop.”

“Not about Trevor?” He grabbed the phone, a panicked parent, and I got my shovel and went back to cleaning, keeping one ear on Alan’s side of the conversation. I didn’t turn my back.

Alan soon hung up, his face a mask of surprise. “Seems I need to go to the police department. Get my fingerprints taken. I mean, he says I don’t have to, he can’t require me to, but…”

“Did he say what for?”

He looked even more shell-shocked. “To eliminate me as a suspect in the murder of Dr. Peterson.”

I did my best to look surprised. “What? Why?”

“I…I don’t know why. Or how they even got anything to check. I haven’t gone to the doctor since we’ve been here. And even if we had, my fingerprints aren’t in any database anywhere that they could match them.” He scrunched up his eyes. “And they want
Trevor
to come in, too.”

“Well,” I said. “That’s weird.”

“Yeah.” He had pulled out a cell phone—so he
did
have one—and was holding it up to his ear.

“Trevor, wherever you are, I need you to call me. Please.” He hung up.

“Who’s here?” Miranda stepped in the door and stopped short at the sight of Alan.

Alan glanced out at the driveway. “I thought…” He held out his hand. “Alan Hershberger.”

She hesitated, then took his hand. “Miranda Hathaway. Nick’s sister.”

“Nick?”

Miranda looked at me.

I sighed. “My boyfriend.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you…” He stopped.

“Yeah. All right.”

“I’ll be going then. Thanks.”

“Good luck.”

He gave a last little wave and headed out.

“What’s his problem?” Miranda watched as Alan got in his car and left.

“No problem.” Well, actually… “He’s just trying to find his son.”

Miranda looked at the barn, hands on her hips. “You don’t really expect me to clean this.”

“No, not really.”

She frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.”

It took a moment, but she got it. She snatched the pitchfork from the wall. “I can shovel crap as well as anybody.”