River's Edge (19 page)

H
ave you seen this autopsy report?”

McCormick’s question cut into Cade’s thoughts as he studied Carson Graham’s phone records. “No. Anything we didn’t know?”

McCormick came in and dropped the report on his desk. “You might want to take a look at it.”

Cade glanced down at the long report. It would take him a while to read it.

“Look under General Health History. The part about her uterus.”

Cade scanned the pages until he found that section. “What’s a bicornuate uterus?”

McCormick sat down. “I looked it up. It’s when the uterus is split in two parts, and there’s a wall between them. It causes a woman to miscarry early in her pregnancies, which is obviously why Lisa was never able to have a baby. Read on.”

Cade looked back down at the report. Keith Parker, the medical examiner, had made a notation. “Subject’s IVF procedures were misinformed and suggest malpractice.”

Cade froze. “Malpractice? Why?”

“I don’t know, but I thought it was worth following up on.”

“I’ll call Keith.” He dialed the number and waited as the call was routed to the medical examiner. “Yeah, Keith, this is Cade from Cape Refuge.”

The ME sounded rushed, busy. “Yeah, Cade. What can I do for you?”

“Listen, I was just looking over your report on Lisa Jackson, and I wanted to ask you about something. You mentioned that Lisa had a bicornuate uterus.”

He was quiet for a moment, and Cade pictured him fumbling through her file. Finally, he spoke. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely. I saw it myself.”

“You mentioned that her IVF procedures suggested malpractice. What did you mean by that?”

“I mean that any doctor who performed an in vitro procedure on a woman with a bicornuate uterus was either stupid or a fraud. Her problem was not in conceiving. She simply couldn’t carry a baby for very long.”

Cade tried to follow what this meant. “So is it possible her fertility doctor didn’t know this?”

“Hardly. It’s a birth defect. He would have seen it in a hysterogram, which is one of the earliest tests he would have done on her. He also would have seen it in any laparoscopy. And he would have done those in the first two IVF procedures when he harvested the eggs. No way he didn’t see it.”

Cade locked eyes with McCormick across his desk and changed the phone to his other ear. This couldn’t be right. Had Sims lied to her?

“Keith, can this be corrected?”

“Sometimes it can.”

“Then why wouldn’t the doctor have done that?”

The ME hesitated. “The only reason I can think of is that there’s more money in stringing her along. Three procedures would cost over thirty thousand dollars, and that doesn’t even add
in all the other treatments he’d tried on her over the years. He had a long-term money bag there, and much of it didn’t have to go through insurance companies. It was cash out of pocket.”

Cade felt sick. Could someone really be that manipulative? That evil? To drag someone’s hopes and dreams through such trials just for a buck?

When Cade hung up, he told McCormick what Keith had said. “I think it’s time to interview Sims again.”

McCormick agreed. “You think he had anything to do with her death?”

Cade drew in a long breath. “I wouldn’t rule anything out. But even if he didn’t, he could be lying to all his patients. He has no business practicing medicine. And because of Lisa’s murder, he’s going to be exposed.”

“Looks like we have
two
major crimes to investigate,” McCormick said.

Cade nodded. “I think I need to call the DA.”

S
adie didn’t like the distant, restless look she saw in her mother’s eyes as night began to fall. So many times she had anticipated Sheila seeing Hanover House for the first time, with its garden of color lining the front of the house and the big, luscious ferns spilling onto the porch. It looked like something from one of those foggy dreams of heaven, a picture of hope. The reality of a home.

But Sheila didn’t catch that vision. Even when they showed her the room Sadie had worked so hard to fix up for her, Sheila’s gaze strayed to the window, as if she scoped out her escape.

“I know it’s all really stressful to you, Mom. Being in a strange place and having so much expected of you. But it’s going to be all right. You’ll get comfortable in a few days. Caleb will get to know you.”

“I don’t see why he has to go to bed so early. He was down before dark.”

“It gets dark pretty late this time of year. He’s little. He needs his sleep.”

“You used to stay up till after midnight,” Sheila said. “It never hurt you any.”

Sadie didn’t want to tell her that many of the choices Sheila had made about her childhood had hurt her. “He’s got a routine. It’s good for him.”

Sheila turned to look at her. “What does he call her?”

“Who?”

“Morgan. Does he call her
Mama?”

“Usually he calls her
Mo.
I guess it’s his shortened version of Morgan. Sometimes
Mo-mo.”

“It sounds awfully close to Mama.” Sheila’s voice sounded hollow, and in it Sadie heard the waver of fear.

“It doesn’t matter what he calls her. It matters that he’s happy. It’s good that there are people like Morgan and Jonathan, Mom. They can love without expecting anything in return.”

Sheila gave her a faint smile. “It’s just that it makes the rest of us look bad. I don’t need any help with that.” She turned from the mirror and sat down on the bed. “I’m easily replaced, you know.”

Sadie’s heart broke at the words. “How can you say that? You haven’t been replaced.”

Sheila’s eyes rimmed with tears. “I’ve always been a problem to the people around me. Even when I was a little kid, and my mama was going through her string of men, I was always in the way. They farmed me out to everybody they knew. Aunts and uncles and neighbors and foster homes. Nothing—nobody—was ever really mine.”

Sadie sat down next to her. “I’m yours, Mom. I always will be. And so will Caleb.”

“But can you see why I don’t want to be here? I’m in the way again, in a place that’s not mine, trying to fit back into my own family. The people here only know me as an ex-con, a drug addict, a terrible mother. How can they see me as anything else, when that’s what I am?”

“Mom, Morgan and Jonathan think everyone is worthwhile. Take Gus Hampton, for instance. He’s been in prison most of his adult life for everything from armed robbery to drug trafficking. They took him in here and helped him change his life. Now he has a good job, and next Saturday he’s marrying Karen. You met her downstairs. The one with the baby. Karen has been in and out of prison, too. She came here pregnant, fearing for her baby’s life if she stayed with her violent boyfriend. But Morgan and Jonathan gave them both that new start, showed them what a real home and family are supposed to look like. They’ve loved them like family. And Felitia, she was in prison too, before she came here. Same story. Drug addictions. She’s clean now and doing really well. If you let them, Morgan and Jonathan will help you start a new life. Think of it, Mom. They helped me start over when things were really bad.”

Sheila brought her tear-filled eyes to Sadie’s face. “You’re different, baby. More confident. More mature. You sure didn’t get that from me.” She pulled Sadie into a hug.

Finally, she let her go, and her gaze strayed back to the window. “Go for a walk with me, Sadie. Show me this island paradise you’ve been writing me about.”

Sadie couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do more.

B
en Jackson’s mistress is a business owner somewhere on this island.” Clara Montgomery wiped her oiled cloth over the antique dresser she had gotten at the Methodist church bazaar, and looked up at Blair. “You mark my word, she’s someone we all know.”

Blair had come by to pick Clara’s brain about the mystery woman, since Clara was the biggest gossip in town. It seemed that everyone in town had heard the rumors, but no one had a name. “Come on, Clara. You know everything that goes on in this town. Don’t you even have some idea?”

“It’s a well-kept secret, that’s all I know. I gleaned as much as I could from the hints I’ve gotten from people all over the island.” She got finished wiping the wood and turned to an iron headboard propped against the wall. “Did you see this, Blair? It’s lovely, isn’t it? It would look so pretty in your bedroom. Especially if you were to get married. That brass one you have right now is a little too feminine for a macho man like Cade, don’t you think?”

Blair gasped. She didn’t know whether to deny the rumor about a wedding with Cade or ask how the woman knew about her bedroom furnishings. “Clara, Cade and I are not engaged!”

“Just a matter of time, dear. Just a matter of time.”

Blair decided to get out of there before Clara “gleaned” anything more. She said a hurried goodbye and rushed out to her car.

For a moment, she sat behind the wheel, letting Clara’s words sink in. Was this confirmation that Carson’s prediction was real? Could Blair really count on a wedding?

If so, why weren’t things moving faster? Why wasn’t there a commitment? Why hadn’t Cade ever uttered a word about love or marriage?

Was she simply being an idiot to put any stock at all in Carson’s or Clara’s assumptions?

As she pulled out of the parking lot of the Trash to Treasures Antique Shop, she glanced across the street to Carson Graham’s house, with its huge, faded Palm Reading sign. The dirt parking lot seemed full of cars. She wondered if his visitors were media or people lined up waiting for readings.

Then she saw the front door open, and Carson stepped out with Vince Barr. What was he doing there? Digging up more dirt for his new television career? Manufacturing more lies?

She decided to ask him herself, so she pulled across the street. Carson went back in, and Vince crossed the parking lot to his car. Blair pulled in front of him and rolled her window down.

“Anything going on I should know about, Vince?”

He grinned. “Don’t you wish?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to learn from the professionals. Don’t tell me you were just getting your palm read.”

He leaned into her window. “Carson’s the man of the day. Everybody wants a piece of him. You’ll have to stand in line.”

“Oh, I’m not that interested in Carson. I’m more interested in Ben Jackson’s alleged mistress.”

“Have you got a name?” His question suggested he didn’t.

She decided to play that game. “Maybe.”

He grinned. “Did Sam Sullivan finally spill it?”

Blair shifted her car into park. Sam Sullivan? How did he figure into this? “I don’t reveal my sources. You know that.”

Vince straightened up and peered down at her. “I should have listened to him when he came to me three weeks ago, wanting me to do a story on the affair to blow Ben out of the campaign.”

Blair almost caught her breath. So Sam Sullivan was behind the rumors. No wonder no one knew the woman’s name. There probably
wasn’t
a woman. He’d probably made the whole thing up just to ruin Ben’s chances in the campaign.

“I told him I wasn’t interested in local politics,” Vince went on. “The
Observer
is a national publication. It didn’t pique my interest until Lisa turned up missing. Come on, Blair. You got a name, tell me who it is.”

“I don’t have a name, Vince. I don’t even know if I believe there was an affair. Her name would have come out by now if there really was someone.”

“Then why are you wasting my time?”

She had expected as much. She watched him get into his car, and she turned hers around before he could pull out.

Cade needed to hear about this. If Sam Sullivan had anything to do with these rumors, then maybe he wrote the letters—and if Sam wrote the letters, maybe he’d been involved in the murder.

She found Cade in a briefing session with McCormick and some of his men. He looked happy to see her when she came in, and he took her into his office.

“I found out some things that might be of interest to you,” she said, taking the chair across from his desk. “It’s about the alleged mistress. I’ve been digging around town, trying to find out who she is. No one knows, Cade. No one. Wouldn’t you think
someone
would know something if Ben were having an affair?”

“What are you getting at?”

“I’m thinking that maybe it really is all a hoax. But who’s behind it? Cade, do you know whose name kept coming up as I was questioning people about this rumor?”

“Who?”

“Sam Sullivan. He told Vince Barr about the affair even before Lisa went missing, hoping to derail Ben’s chances in the campaign. Maybe he also sent the letters.”

Cade sat back hard and stared at her for a moment. “So what I need to do is get a sample of Sam’s handwriting and compare it to the letters.”

“Just what I was thinking. Do you think he just did this to make Ben look bad during the election? Or could he have had something to do with the murder?”

Cade leaned his head back on his chair and stared up at the ceiling.

“Just what you need, huh? Another suspect.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Anything I can do?”

He leaned on his desk, rubbing his face until it was red. Looking at her over his fingertips, he said, “There might be.”

“What?”

“Tell me about Jonathan and Morgan. Have they been seeing Dr. Sims?”

The shift in subject surprised her. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“And what has he told them?”

Disappointed that he wasn’t going to enlist more of her help in the investigation of Sam and the letters, she sighed. “Well, he’s told Morgan that she has a problem producing eggs. They’re considering their options.”

“Has he suggested any big procedures?”

Blair didn’t really know if she should be sharing this. “He suggested in vitro. I think Morgan’s considering it.”

“I thought so.” Cade got up, went around his desk, and closed the door. He bent over her chair, inches from her face. “Blair, I think Sims is a fraud. I need Morgan and Jonathan to help me prove it.”

“A fraud? What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want her to get a second opinion. Have those tests done again.”

“Why?”

He sat on the edge of his desk. “Blair, this is off the record. You can’t repeat it to anyone, and you sure can’t write about it.”

Off the record. Again. She considered objecting, but figured silence was a small price to pay if this involved Morgan. “Okay, I won’t. Cade, what is it?”

“Lisa’s autopsy showed that she had what’s called a bicornuate uterus. It’s a condition she had since birth, and it kept her from being able to carry a child. Yet Sims never told her what her real problem was, and the IVF procedures wouldn’t have helped. He lied to her for years, when surgery might have helped her, and he milked a lot of money out of them in the process.”

Blair caught her breath and slowly got to her feet. “Do you think he’s been lying to Morgan?”

“The procedures are expensive, Blair. He deals with desperate people who are willing to do whatever it takes to have a baby.”

She felt her scars burning, tears stinging her eyes. Had he given Morgan false hope? Had he preyed on her greatest fears?

“So…what? Do you think he’s the killer?”

Cade drew in a deep breath. “I’ve got a medical fraud milking desperate people out of their money; I’ve got a mayoral candidate who may be stirring up scandals behind the scenes; and I’ve got a supposed psychic with inside information. Three con artists, and a husband with a weak alibi and a pair of dirty shoes. One of them could be the killer. But I don’t know which one.”