Shadow of Suspicion (Haunted by the Past) (19 page)

“It’s no trouble. You’re family after
all.” Trish swept ahead of them. Her soft fluffy slippers barely made a sound
as she walked. She led them into a large living room where a fire blazed in the
old stone fireplace. It lit the room with a warm, cosy glow.

Callie fell in love with the space
instantly. The thick carpet cushioned her feet with a velvety caress. She
couldn’t blame Trish for worrying about it. Who wouldn’t! She scrunched her
toes into the thick, luxurious weave. It was heaven. She sighed blissfully.

“Please, sit down. No need to stand
on ceremony here.” Trish perched herself on the end of an easy chair. Callie
and Jason sank down onto the sofa opposite her.

Trish folded her hands in her lap. “Now,
what did you come all the way here to ask me about?” She gazed at them expectantly.

Jason glanced at Callie, then back at
Trish. “We were at Sandra’s earlier.” He cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“Callie had the chance to look through some old family photos and she was
particularly interested in a certain family member she saw in one of the
pictures.”

Callie almost choked. She had to
admire the way Jason phrased the events. He made it sound as if Sandra had
allowed Callie access to the family album. It was incredibly clever.

“Didn’t Sandra fill you in?” Trish
frowned, clearly puzzled.

“She grew upset when I asked her
about it.” Callie decided to follow Jason’s lead and be as evasive as possible.
She couldn’t be sure that Trish would open up if she knew Sandra was dead set
against Callie knowing anything about Sophie. “I didn’t want to push further,
since it obviously caused my mother pain. I was too worried to ask Uncle Max,
in case it upset him too. Jason suggested you might be able to appease my
curiosity instead.”

“Goodness, I’m intrigued. Who are you
talking about?” Trish clasped her hands together, her face slightly flushed.

Callie drew in a deep breath and
prayed for the best. “The picture was of a little girl. Sandra did tell me that
it was her younger sister, Sophie. Do you know anything about her?”

Trish gasped and her hands flew up to
cover her mouth. Evidently Callie had shocked yet another person. It would seem
she was getting to be an expert on that.

“Oh, my goodness. I never thought to
hear that name again. Nobody in the family ever talks about her.” Trish stared
at them, her face a mixture of shock and sadness. “I should have realised who
you meant as soon as you said Sandra grew upset. She was very close to Sophie.”

“Please, can you tell me what
happened to Sophie? I have to know,” Callie pleaded.

“Yes, I know what happened.” Trish
hesitated. “I’m not sure even I can put words to this. Are you sure you really
want to know?”

“I have to.” Callie jerked as Jason
covered her hands with one of his large, warm palms. He pried her fingers apart
and she suddenly realised she’d been clutching her hands together so tightly
that she’d practically cut off her circulation. Trish glanced at their hands,
one brow raised.

“I can see this means a lot to you.”
She wiped away a tear as it slid down her cheek. “It would seem Sophie still
has the power to capture a heart, even from a photograph.” Trish climbed to her
feet with a heavy sigh. “This is not an easy story to tell. I’m going to need a
brandy if I’m to get through the recounting of it. I’ll fetch you both one as
well. Believe me, you’re going to need it.”

Callie glanced nervously at Jason.
“What do you suppose could be so awful that Trish thinks we need a brandy to
hear it?”

Jason smiled grimly, his face
strained. “A child died. No matter how it happened, that’s always a tragedy.”

He released her hand with one final
squeeze. Callie resisted the urge to snatch his warm palm back to hers and
cling on for dear life. She was being foolish. She was a strong, independent
woman who could cope with anything. So, why did she feel so lost without his
skin touching hers?

Callie fiddled with the edge of her
sleeve. Nerves clawed at her insides. Now that she was here, Callie wasn’t sure
she wanted to hear what Trish had to say. A sense of doom settled over her
shoulders and Sophie’s sweet young face sprang into her mind so vividly that it
left her shaken.

“Here we go.” Trish sauntered back
into the room, balancing three glasses of brandy in her hands. She set two down
in front of Callie and Jason, taking the third back to her own seat.

Jason pushed his glass away. “If you
don’t mind, I’ll give it a miss. I’m driving.”

“Of course, how silly of me. Just
leave it, dear.” Trish waved her hand airily and settled down into the cushions
on her chair. She crossed her legs. “Now, about Sophie. Where do I begin?” She
licked her lips and regarded Callie with her head cocked to one side. “I guess
the first thing is to tell you that I wasn’t around when Sophie was born. She
came as a late surprise to your grandparents. I didn’t know her until later,
when Max and I became a couple. She was about three, I think, at the time.”

Callie picked up her brandy glass and
twisted it in her fingers. “It must have been quite a shock to them. I mean,
they had to be in their forties or something, right?”

“I think Rebecca was thirty nine when
Sophie was born, if my mental arithmetic is right.” Trish scrunched up her nose
and her brow furrowed. “Oh well, I was never very good with maths, but I think
that’s about right. You are correct when you say it was a shock. They hadn’t
planned on further kids after they had Sandra.”

“Didn’t they want Sophie?” Callie
stared into her glass, watching the firelight sparkle in the amber liquid. She
couldn’t imagine anyone not loving the beautiful child she’d been privileged
enough to meet, but this was the Fullers.

“I don’t think they did, to be
honest. Rebecca never had much energy for a young, enthusiastic child. Sophie
arrived too late in life for them.” Trish sat forward. “Sandra was the one who
cared for Sophie. They were very close. Inseparable. In some ways, Sandra was
more of a mother to Sophie than Rebecca was.”

Callie’s heart twisted in her chest
and her fingers tightened around the brandy glass in her hand. She diverted her
gaze to a painting that graced the opposite wall, afraid her feelings would
show in her eyes.

She squelched down the needle of
jealousy that burned deep inside. She didn’t want to feel that way about a girl
that was long dead, but she did. It wasn’t right. The child she’d seen was
sweet and loving. Sophie obviously wanted to help her and that made her guilt
that much worse.

“Is something wrong, dear. You seem a
little peaky all of a sudden. Perhaps a sip of brandy would help?” Callie could
hear the concern in Trish’s voice, but she had no desire to spill her
disgraceful thoughts. What could she say to explain her strange reaction to
Trish’s words?

“It’s only natural that you’d feel a
bit jealous.” The soft words came from beside her. She turned to stare at Jason
with absolute horror. Her mouth hung open. How had he known? Had it showed in
her expression that much?

“I…..It’s not that.” She sounded like
a complete moron. He’d rumbled her and she was just making things worse. “It
was just a stupid, split second. I don’t know why it even came up.” She stared
at the floor, too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t feel bad about it.” He gently
grasped her face with his warm hand and forced her gaze to his. He smiled,
understanding reflected in his deep brown eyes. “I always felt like that about
my brother, even after he died. He received all my mother’s love and adoration.
Nobody else could compete. Even if he’d been the most incredible guy on the
planet, I’d still have been madly jealous. It’s normal.”

He released her face with a slight
caress across her cheek. Callie’s heart constricted and flipped over. His words
danced in her brain. She clasped a hand to her chest and tears filled her eyes.

“I didn’t know you had a brother. It
must have been awful to lose him. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“I hope we’re not bringing back
painful memories, dear.” Trish dabbed at her teary eyes with a tissue.

Jason shrugged and dropped his gaze
to the floor. “It was a long time ago now. I only mention it because I know how
Callie feels. I loved my brother, despite his faults, but he was the apple of
my mother’s eye. She lived for him. The rest of us barely existed in her life
and there were times I hated him for it.”

Callie rubbed his arm. She tried to
offer him some of the comfort he’d so generously given to her. He covered her
hand and squeezed her fingers gently. His throat worked hard and she realised
how difficult it must have been to share what he had with them. Her heart filled
with gratitude that he would do so to make her feel better.

“It must be hard to hear that your
mother gave her love so freely to her younger sister, and not to you.” Jason
stared deeply into her eyes. His complete understanding of her simply amazed
her. “Am I wrong?”

“No. I couldn’t have said it better
in my own words.” Callie’s vision blurred and her voice broke. “It’s hard to
hear that Sandra was capable of being a mother……….just not to me. I had thought
she had no mothering instinct, but it seems I was wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, dear.”
Trish reached a hand towards Callie. “It’s the last thing I would want to do.”

“It’s fine. It isn’t your fault. I
came here for the truth and am grateful you’re telling it to me.” Callie smiled
reassuringly. “Please continue with the story.”

“If you’re sure?” Trish sounded
doubtful.

“I am.” Callie refused to stop now.
She had to know everything, even if it hurt like hell. At least she had Jason
to help her through it.

“Okay.” Trish sighed and bowed her
head slightly. She bit her lip and frowned. “Now where was I?”

“You were saying how Sandra was more
of a mother to Sophie than Rebecca,” Jason reminded her.

Callie faced Trish once more, keeping
her hand on Jason’s arm. She wasn’t sure which one of them needed the comfort
more, but she couldn’t let the contact go. She was relieved when he didn’t pull
away from her. Instead, he drew her hand back into his and laced his fingers
through hers.

“Oh, yes. Well, as I was saying, I
met Max when Sophie was about three years old. She was a sweet girl, always
singing and dancing around the room. A little ray of sunshine is how Sandra
always described her.” Trish paused and threw back a large gulp of brandy. She
swallowed and grimaced, a slight shudder wracking through her thin frame.

“She was five when she died. I can
still remember that dreadful day.” Her eyes glazed over as if she’d travelled
back in time and could see it all before her. “It was summer. Rebecca had
arranged the annual family picnic at the nature reserve they own. It was a
tradition at the time. I couldn’t attend because I was stuck at work, but I
waved them all off at the start of the day. I can still recall Sophie wearing
the new dress that Rebecca had just bought for her. Beautiful it was, with
small flowers all over it.”

Callie’s heart leapt. She knew the
dress Trish spoke of. She’d seen it on Sophie every time the child had visited
her. For some reason, it made her intensely sad.

“Sandra was pregnant with you at the
time. I think she had about two months left to go.” Trish’s voice softened, her
face wracked with grief. “Max was distraught when he came home that night. He
cried like a child in my arms. I’d never seen him like that before.”

“What happened?” Callie whispered,
her limbs shaking from the intense pain she could feel emanating from Trish.

Trish jerked and glanced up at
Callie, as if only just remembering she was there. “According to Max, Sophie
had spent a great deal of the afternoon begging to go exploring round the
nature reserve. Rebecca was too tired and of course Sandra was rather large by
this time, so she wasn’t able to take the child either. Sophie wandered off by
herself when no one was watching.”

Trish gulped another dose of brandy.
She gripped the glass in her hand tightly and swallowed hard. “By the time they
found her, she was dead. There is a large pond, more like a mini lake really,
on the property. Nobody knows what happened for sure, but somehow Sophie fell
in and drowned.”

Callie gasped and covered her mouth
with one hand. Her heart filled with grief at the loss of such a young, vibrant
life. Her mind filled with the image of the child that she’d seen on so many
occasions. The small face, so full of love. Tears slipped down her cheeks and
splashed onto her lap.

Callie swallowed a large gulp of
brandy and let the burning liquid warm her suddenly cold insides. She pressed
her wrist to her mouth, her throat thick with emotions.

“Sandra never got over it. She blamed
herself for not taking the child when she’d asked. I think she felt that she
personally had failed to keep Sophie safe.” Trish sucked in a breath and
snapped her fingers. “Maybe that’s why she decided not to keep you, Callie.
Perhaps she thought she’d let down one child and couldn’t bear to take
responsibility for another one.”

Callie jerked and her heart skipped
several beats. “Do you think so?”

“I think Trish is right. It would
make sense.” Jason rubbed the sensitive skin on her wrist. She shivered.
“Sandra does care about you. I’ve seen it. She just seems to work hard to ignore
it.”

“She was eaten up with grief and pain
over Sophie, when she gave birth to you,” Trish explained. “She couldn’t have
been thinking straight. I think things became mixed up in her mind. I mean, why
else would she tell her entire family that you were stillborn?”

Callie gasped and her jaw dropped.
“What?”

Trish jerked as if she’d been struck.
“I thought you knew.” Her hand fluttered to her chest. “Oh dear. Have I put my
foot in it?”

Callie shook her head, sure she had
to have heard wrong. “Everyone thought I was dead?”

“Yes, dear. Your mother said you were
stillborn. There is even a grave for you at the cemetery in the church in town.
Didn’t anyone tell you?”

Callie’s world spun. She stared
sightlessly before her. She could vaguely feel Jason rubbing her back and
calling her name. A sharp odour stung her nose and she coughed. Callie clamped
a hand over her face.

“I didn’t realise you’d brought that
with you.” She glared at Jason and the bottle of smelling salts he insisted on
wafting at her.

“Just a precaution. It’s a good thing
I did, judging by your complexion.” He grinned and shoved them in her hand.
“Two more deep breaths should do it.”

Callie sighed and cautiously did as
he’d instructed. She really hated the sharp scent, but she had to admit that it
did clear her head.

“I’m so sorry.” Trish stood beside
her, wringing her hands. Callie hadn’t even been aware of the woman leaving her
seat. “I thought you knew. I should never have sprung that on you.”

“It’s not your fault.” Callie set
down her brandy glass and reached out to squeeze Trish’s hand. “I can’t believe
she did that. Why would she do something so awful?”

“I don’t know. It was a dreadful
shock to the whole family when they found out that you were still alive. It’s
the reason Mitch is so angry with you. There were several massive arguments
after you turned up. Rebecca nearly had a fit.” Trish patted Callie’s hand.
“You were dead as far as everyone was concerned, then suddenly Mitch hears
about you at the garage and comes home asking us if Sandra had ever had a
child. It put the cat among the pigeons, I can tell you.”

“Just a minute,” Callie frowned and
clutched her head, “it makes no sense. I thought Uncle Max knew I’d been
adopted, didn’t he?” The conversation she’d had with him ran through her head.
He’d told her he’d seen her before Sandra had given her away. It had meant so
much to her when he’d said it that she’d never forget the words.

“I beg your pardon?” Trish stared at
Callie, the expression frozen on her face as if someone had plunged her into a
deep freeze with no warning.

“When he came to see me, Uncle Max
mentioned that he’d been there when Sandra handed me over to be adopted.”
Callie glanced at Jason. She begged him with her eyes to help her out of the
awkward position she’d just landed herself in. He shrugged, clearly unsure what
to say.

Trish frowned. “He knew? Why in the
world wouldn’t he tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m the one who’s
put my foot in it now.” Callie bit her lip and wished she could transport
herself somewhere else.