No River Too Wide (38 page)

“Why didn’t you take another chance and leave sooner? You helped me leave and nothing happened. Dad never found me. He never came after me. How do you know he would have come after you, or
us,
all those years ago?”

“After you left, not a day passed when your father didn’t remind me that he could find you if he wanted to. He said he had a good idea where you were, and if I tried to leave, he would find us both.”

Harmony looked stricken. “But, Mom, you
did
leave, and he didn’t find us.”

“And I’m still not sure I did the right thing.”

“But you finally got out of there. You found help and you left.”

“In the months right before I ran, something changed in your father’s life. I don’t know what, but I do know
he
was different. He watched me, as always, but he didn’t seem to care as much. It was like he’d moved on to something else in his mind, that he had something new to be angry about or absorbed in that had nothing to do with our home or me. I realized if ever there was a time to go, it had arrived.”

“And that’s really why you’ve stayed here and haven’t moved on? Because you think he lost interest?”

Jan hesitated, but this, too, she thought Harmony should know. “No, I’ve only stayed in Asheville, sweetheart, because more and more I think he’ll never find either of us.”

“Because Moving On was so careful? Because
you’ve
been so careful?”

Jan covered her daughter’s hand and squeezed. “No, Harmony, because I think your father must be dead. That’s the only answer that makes sense.”

Chapter 30

On Sunday morning Davis turned into the driveway exactly when he’d told Harmony he would. He had given twenty-four hours’ notice, and explained he and a date were taking Lottie to the Biltmore Estate for the first day of the annual Christmas celebration. In a gesture of goodwill she’d promised to have the baby’s stroller ready, and he’d told her not to bother. He’d bought one to keep in the car, along with a crib to put in the extra bedroom of his house.

The same house he’d bought to convince Harmony she should marry him. Okay, she was a little bitter. No surprise there.

“I hope this date actually likes kids,” she’d said sweetly, right before he hung up.

When he pulled up she was pushing Lottie in the baby swing dangling from the limb of a century-old maple.

Leaves were falling steadily now, flaunting their extravagant colors like exotic carpets on the farmyard floor. The trunk of the maple sported a heart: “B.R. loves M.R.” Harmony had never asked Rilla when she and Brad had taken the notion to carve something so flagrantly romantic into the old tree. But Harmony wondered if she would ever find a man whose initials she wanted to share with the world.

Davis stepped out, and a young woman in a flowered skirt and lavender sweater joined him. She had shoulder-length dark hair and long, elegant legs and she smiled almost shyly at Harmony before she came to watch the baby in the swing.

“Oh, she’s adorable.”

Harmony stopped pushing the baby and turned to the woman, who was extending her hand.

“I’m Fiona. And you must be Harmony.”

Harmony took the hand that was not, as she had expected, pampered and manicured, but had short unpolished nails and a rough palm. She murmured a polite response.

“Fiona’s a geologist,” Davis said. “With the state.”

“What does a geologist do in Asheville?” Harmony asked.

“I investigate requests for mining permits.”

“Really? Don’t you think they’re already leveling too many mountaintops?”

Fiona smiled, not offended. “I can find ways to deny permits you wouldn’t believe. You and I probably see eye to eye about that.”

“Lottie’s all set?” Davis already had his daughter out of the swing, and the baby was squealing with joy as he lifted her into the air. She recognized her father and was delighted to see him again.

“She slept later than usual, so she’s in a good mood,” Harmony said.

Fiona was beaming at Davis and his daughter. “I have six nieces and nephews under the age of four. Good moods are always appreciated, aren’t they?”

Harmony couldn’t help herself. She liked this woman, and she wanted to take her aside and tell her to run for the hills while she could. Davis Austin was not the guy for her.

Yet just beyond Fiona stood the man Harmony thought she knew so well, the suck-up accountant and son of prissy Gloria Austin, and this Davis was clearly smitten with his baby daughter, making certain he took part in her life whenever he could, even setting up his household so she could eventually be an overnight guest.

“I hope the three of you have a great time,” Harmony said. And while some part of her didn’t want Lottie to have fun with anybody except her, a more substantial part was being truthful.

Someday Lottie would have a stepmother. If she was lucky it would be somebody like Fiona, and when that event happened, Harmony wanted her daughter to be happy about it. Because if necessary, Harmony could be a grown-up.

“We were hoping to be at the estate until midafternoon,” Davis said. “She’ll be okay if you don’t feed her until then?”

“She’s getting most of her calories from other places now, and she likes milk from her sippy cup. She’ll be fine. I packed everything you’ll need.”

Fiona told Harmony how nice it had been to meet her; Davis put the baby and the backpack with supplies in the car, and the three drove off together.

She stood beside the swing for a long moment, watching the car disappear down the driveway as maple leaves swirled around her ankles.

She had hours of baby-free time ahead, and she felt oddly disoriented. On Sunday projects came to a halt at the Reynolds Farm, and only the most necessary chores were done. Rilla had a mom-to-be in the kennel about to whelp a litter of golden doodle puppies, all of whom would hopefully be smarter than Vanilla and more suitable to become service dogs. But Harmony had already checked on the mom and brought her up to the house where Rilla could keep a closer eye on her. And while Harmony often ate meals with the family and helped with preparations, on Sundays she and Lottie ate all their meals in their garage apartment to give the Reynoldses time alone. So there was no bread to knead, no vegetables to clean. She had leftovers for her own dinner, and Lottie’s would be simple to prepare.

She was contemplating how to fill the hours until Lottie came home when her cell phone rang. She answered without looking at the screen.

“This Harmony?”

The voice was unfamiliar, and she was immediately suspicious. “Who’s this?”

“My name’s Bea. I’m a friend of Jan’s.”

Harmony had heard all about the lady trucker who had helped her mother escape from Topeka. She leaned against the tree and closed her eyes. “Did my... Jan give you my number?”

“For emergencies.”

Harmony thought maybe her mother had told her that, although their conversations were usually so quick and quietly spoken she wasn’t surprised she’d forgotten.

The word
emergency
registered. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Honey, I don’t know how you feel about everything that’s happened in your family. I’d really rather talk to your mom.”

“You called her?”

“She’s not answering.”

“Sometimes coverage is spotty because of the mountains.” She tried to remember if her mother had mentioned going anywhere today. Jan had said she wanted to go up to the Goddess House to spend time with Cristy. Maybe she had.

Or maybe...

Harmony imagined her father finally showing up in Asheville. She imagined him finding her mother.

Jan wasn’t picking up phone calls.

Emergency
wasn’t nearly a strong enough word.

“I don’t know where she is or why she’s not answering,” she said, “but I’ll find her and give her your message right away. You just have to tell me what it is. If my father’s on his way here or worse—”

“That’s not it.”

“You’re sure?”

There was a pause, a rather long pause; then Bea said, “Yeah, I am.”

“Is it
about
him?”

Another long pause ensued, and she thought Bea had covered the receiver and was speaking to someone else. Then she came back.

“I didn’t want to do it this way. We didn’t. I don’t know how you really feel about your dad, honey.”

Harmony realized where this was leading. One moment she’d been blind to it, and the next she understood with absolute clarity.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked.

“They found his body last night.”

Harmony could almost feel herself moving away from the tree to stand apart from her body, to turn and watch the tall blonde holding the telephone. That woman’s father was dead, and Harmony knew she must be suffused with relief. Just relief. Not joy, not sorrow.

Blessed relief.

She closed her eyes and waited a moment. Reality shifted, and when she opened her eyes again, she was the woman leaning against the maple.

“How did he die?” Her voice was calm, although inside she felt something unidentifiable, something waiting to erupt.

“Can’t we leave that part for Jan?”

“No, we can’t.”

“We think he was shot, but we can’t say anything for sure yet. We have a friend in the sheriff’s department, and she’ll have more for us later. Whoever did it buried your dad in a shallow grave not far from your old house, on a tract where they’ve been doing some construction. Maybe whoever did it thought that part wasn’t going to be developed. It was wooded, but you know how they take trees down these days.”

Harmony realized she was nodding. Nodding and nodding, and exactly why and at what, she wasn’t sure. “When? Do you know?”

“A while ago. Not recent.”

Her father had been dead, and none of them had known it. All their elaborate precautions to keep Jan safe had been for nothing. Rex Stoddard had been in Topeka when he died, not on the road looking for his wife and daughter.

Then she realized what that could mean.

“How long is
a while?
”

“I guess they’ll do an autopsy, and we’ll know the answer then.”

“But you have some idea, don’t you?”

“I don’t like talking to you about this.”

“Two months? Could it be that long?”

“Might be,” Bea said, as if the words were being dragged from her throat.

“He didn’t come home the night Mom escaped. Was he already dead?”

“We don’t know.”

Harmony thought out loud. “Somebody kills my father about the time my mother disappears. Nobody’s going to think that’s a coincidence. They’re going to be looking for her now, aren’t they?”

“I guess you need to hear all this so you can pass it on to Jan. Seems like there’s more to this than just murder.”

“
Just
murder?”

“Right, like that’s not bad enough. Seems like somebody’s been making off with money from your father’s agency, making bogus claims and raking in the checks. Could have been your dad. At least that’s what they thought before they found his body.”

“You knew about this? About the money? And you didn’t tell Mom?”

“No, it’s been hush-hush. We’re just truckers, hon, with some connections. That’s not something we’d be privy to. But it’s not so hush-hush now that his body’s been found. See, they’ve been trying to find him, quietlike. Probably hoping they could sneak up on him before he squirreled away whatever he’d snatched for good. But now I’m afraid you’re right, and they’ve got to be wondering where your mom fits into this picture.”

“Do they think she killed him?”

“I don’t know what they think. This is all new.”

“Do you want her to leave here? Go somewhere safer like you planned at the beginning? Where she won’t be found? Do you want her to get ready?”

“We can’t do that. Whatever we think, it’s not about rescuing your mom from your father anymore. It’s about murder.”

Of course, Moving On couldn’t be involved in a murder investigation. Harmony realized she wasn’t thinking straight.

Her father was dead.

Someone had stolen money from the agency he had started himself.

About the time her father died her mother had fled into the night, leaving a burning house behind her and no forwarding address. A burning house with an arsenal of guns her father had liked to fondle and sometimes point at his wife.

She couldn’t think about that now. “I’ve got to get to Mom.”

“We can still tell you whatever we learn. There’s no law against that.”

Harmony had the presence of mind to say thank you. She hung up, thumbed through the numbers in her contact list, stabbed the one for Taylor’s cell phone and waited, praying Taylor would answer.

She did. Harmony wasted no time on an explanation.

“Taylor, are you home? Is Mom there?”

“No, I’m in my car, and Jan left the house a little while ago.”

“Where’d she go?”

“She was heading up the mountain to see Cristy. Jan wants to make her a dress for the sheriff’s Christmas ball in Berle. It’s a big deal for Cristy, going back on Sully’s arm, considering that it’s the same sheriff’s department that put her in jail.”

Harmony was only half listening. “When did she leave?”

“A while ago. Maybe forty minutes?”

The Reynolds Farm was closer to the Goddess House than Taylor was. Harmony figured that meant her mother might only be twenty minutes ahead of her on the road up Doggett Mountain.

She owed Taylor an explanation, but first she had to talk to her mother. “I’ll see if I can catch her.”

“It’s a lovely morning to be up there.”

Harmony didn’t tell her it was no longer a lovely morning. Today the police might suspect her mother of murder. She had to find Jan, and they had to make a plan.

* * *

Jan had debated how smart it was to drive up Doggett Mountain alone. The road was narrow and treacherous, and while traveling the snaking turns should be frightening, she had been certain the trip wouldn’t be nearly as bad if she was the one in the driver’s seat.

Now that she was ascending the mountain she wasn’t worried about the road itself. She was worried about being nudged off it to tumble to her death in a fiery explosion, a scenario that hadn’t occurred to her until it was too late to change plans. It would be an unexpected and dramatic finale to a life in which she had largely cowered in the shadows at the mercy of the man she had chosen to love, honor and obey.