Something Borrowed, Something Bleu (15 page)

“Hi!” The little girl
who answered had a voice so soft and high I had to strain to hear it.
“Hello there. Is your mommy home?”
“Emily, give me that.” The adult’s voice was kind. I waited until it came on the line. “Hello?”
“Hi. Krista?”
She laughed. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry about that. Emily’s new thing is to talk on the phone all the time—whether there’s anyone on the other end or not. She called Australia last week. How are you?”
“Um, I’m fine, thank you.”
Sudden silence, and then, “Who is this?” She’d obviously mistaken me for someone else.
“My name’s Sophie Mae Reynolds. I’m calling you from Spring Creek, Colorado.”
“I see. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve just learned that you were present when a girl named Gwen Miller fell into the Cache la Poudre River eighteen years ago.”
A sudden intake of breath was her only response.
“I wanted to ask you a few questions about that night, if I could.”
“Who are you again?” The friendliness had vanished.
“Like I said, my name is Sophie Mae. Bobby Lee Watson was my brother.” I took a deep breath and plunged on. “He killed himself not long after that incident, and he left a note that indicates his … decision … might have had something to do with what happened that night.”
“Well, I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“That he left a note?”
“No, that Gwen’s death had anything to do with your brother’s.”
Disappointment settled into my bones. Yet another false trail. Nonetheless, I kept trudging along it.
“Can you tell me if Bobby Lee was there that night?”
“Listen, I don’t know how you found out my name—it wasn’t in the papers and my family protected me from the rest of the media—but dredging up all that old pain isn’t going to do anyone any good.”
I sighed. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to tell me that. But can you tell me whether Bobby Lee was there that night?”
“No. He wasn’t.”
“Is that what you told the reporter?”
“I didn’t talk to any reporters,” she said quickly.
Liar.
“But you knew him?”
“To talk to, casually. We went to school together, but he was a year ahead of me. He went out to Rancho Sueńo for a while, with that girlfriend of his, but then he pretty much stopped showing up.”
“Can I ask why you went out there? You weren’t exactly a runaway.”
“No, I had a happy home life.”
“Was it the drugs?”
Her laugh was sharp. “No.”
Lots of negative answers, none of them helpful.
“Then why?” I pushed.
Her answer was almost a whisper. “Because Gwen Miller was my best friend, and she loved the place.”
“I’m so sorry.” And I was.
But I’d already come this far. “What about Tabby and Joe?”
“What about them?” Something in her voice. A sharpness. Fear.
Instinct made me ask, “Were they there?”
“Why would you ask that?”
I continued to fly through the conversation by the seat of my pants. “Joe was killed a couple of days ago.”
Krista Madden hung up on me.
I helloed at the phone a couple of times to make sure then stared at it in disbelief. Joe’s death had certainly triggered a reaction. Interesting. I hadn’t had a chance to ask her why her story about what had happened had changed at the hospital. Or whether she’d lied to her dad, the sheriff’s deputy, about the death of her best friend.
But Krista hanging up on me extinguished my sympathy. I punched in the numbers again.
No one answered. When the answering machine came on, I hung up and punched them in again.
“What?” on the fourth ring, abrupt as all get out.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“And I’m not going to. I don’t have to answer any of your questions. Stop calling me.”
“Maybe I should check with your father. The Sheriff.”
Krista barked a laugh in my ear. “Good luck with that.”
She had a point. However, I could hear the fear thrumming through the telephone connection. If she wasn’t afraid of her father, who was she afraid of?”
“Did the Dunners threaten you?”
“Please, stop,” she said.
“I met them today, and neither of them seemed that scary to me.” I was fishing.
“Then you weren’t paying attention, Sophie Mae Reynolds. Because Ray Dunner was scary then, and he’s scary now. I have to go. Don’t call me back. I mean it.”
“Wait!” I listened for the click. There wasn’t one.
“Okay, listen,” I said. “I understand that you’re afraid, and that you don’t know me from Eve. But you knew my brother, and he’s dead. And so is the girl who you say was your best friend. I think you lied to your dad and everyone else about what happened, even though I don’t understand why. All I ask is please,
please
, isn’t there anything you can tell me?”
Krista’s silence drew out so long I wondered whether she really had hung up on me again. Then she said, “Ask yourself how Joe and Tabby Bines managed to get the land for that dairy of theirs.”
And then she did hang up.
What on earth?
And why was Krista so scared of Ray Dunner? Not just now, but for at least eighteen years.

_____

My face must have been a picture of pure puzzlement when I walked out to the patio, because everyone immediately asked what was wrong.
“Nothing,” I said. “At least nothing new.” I told them who I’d been talking to and what she’d said. That led to having to catch Meghan and Kelly up on what Barr and I had done all day. The one thing I left out was Krista’s parting comment. I wanted to talk to Barr about it first, before involving my parents. After all, it might be nothing, and I found myself oddly protective of them.
“Where’s Erin?” I asked when I had finished.
Meghan’s brow furrowed. “She says she’s not feeling well. Went to bed.”
“You’re kidding.” Erin never went to bed when she was sick. Instead she’d lie on the sofa and expect everyone to wait on her, hand and foot.
Never mind that I’d taught her to do that …
“I know,” my housemate said. “Maybe she doesn’t feel comfortable whining in someone else’s house.”
My mother snorted, then held up a finger. “I’ll be right back.”
Watching her retreat into the house, I said to my father, “I think she’s relieved to have Krista Madden confirm Bobby Lee wasn’t out at the Dunners’ when Gwen Miller fell in the river.”
“Of course she is. It also confirms that she was right about Bobby Lee staying away from the place after we talked to him.”
I turned my head and looked at him.
He smiled. “And I’m glad to hear it, too.”
I put my elbows on the table and sunk my chin into my hands. “Then what the heck does the letter mean?” Frustration raised my voice.
“You’ll find out,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”
Kelly laughed. Beside me, Barr made a noise. “Maybe you shouldn’t encourage her so much.”
“And why not?”
My father and my fiancé exchanged amused glances. Once again I thought about how much they had in common—though I began to wonder whether that was a good thing or not.
Anna Belle returned bearing a platter of halved tomatoes that had been slow roasted with a sprinkle of sugar and a dash of olive oil. Chunks of cheese and finely minced basil, chives, and oregano topped off the rounds. The aroma was heavenly.
I reached for one as soon as she set them down. “Mmm. Is this the cheese I brought home?”
“It is. The flavor is quite subtle for a bleu.”
“It’s delicious,” Meghan said, helping herself to another.
Kelly said, “I thought bleu cheese was bleu cheese.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Or yes, it is, but there are lots of different kinds. Tabby calls this one Poudre Bleu.” I toasted him with one of the tomatoes. “Gorgonzola is a bleu and so are Stilton and Roquefort. They’re named after the location of the caves in which they’re aged, like Burgundy and Champagne are named after the region where the grapes grow.”
“Huh. That’s actually interesting.”
“Kelly!” Meghan said, giving him a light slap on the arm.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and looked like he meant it.
I laughed. “Don’t worry. Erin just comes right out and tells me I’m weird.”
Meghan looked unhappy at the mention of her daughter’s name.
“I want to know more about the caves,” Dad said. “I know all bleus have some kind of penicillin in them, which is what causes the blue streaks to form, but why caves?”
“From what Tabby told me, it’s all about the temperature and humidity that the mold thrives in. What’s wrong, Kelly?”
“Mold?” he asked, a look of disgust on his face.
“Yep, you just ate mold. That’s what gives bleu cheeses their distinctive flavors. And Dad’s right—it’s penicillin mold. The antibiotic wasn’t discovered on bread, but in cheese.”
“Well,” he said. “If it cures pneumonia it can’t be all bad.” He took another off the platter, holding it carefully over the brightly colored paper napkins Anna Belle had provided. “And I do love the flavor.”
The rest of dinner consisted of thick pork chops that had been sitting in salt and orange juice brine all day, then stuffed with wild rice, almonds, and dried apples, baby potatoes roasted in their jackets and slathered with cultured butter, and fresh green beans that Anna Belle had picked that afternoon. We ended with homemade vanilla ice cream, barely visible under a heap of late-season strawberries.
Despite the surfeit of food, I remembered to have a little bit of everything and to savor every bite. At the end of the meal Dad had the temerity to bring out a cheese course: Saga bleu cheese, walnuts, and dark ruby port served in my grandmother’s tiny liqueur glasses. Everyone, even Barr, groaned when they saw more food come to the table. Oh, but we all had a few bites, a few sips, and the meal was all the better for the finishing touch.
After dinner Anna Belle went to her den to do a little work, but Dad asked if we wanted to watch a movie together.
“Big doings in Spring Creek.” I immediately regretted the words when I saw the stricken look on his face.
“Of course you want to go out, have some fun!” he said. “We’ve gotten to be such homebodies that your mother and I just don’t think about that. I’m sorry.”
Luckily, Barr was standing right next to me when Dad went into his guilt-ridden diatribe, and stopped him in his tracks. “Please, Calvin, we enjoy spending time with you, we really do. It’s why I’m here in the first place. Can Anna Belle join us for the movie?”
I nodded my agreement with Barr, and Dad looked relieved. “I’ll check,” he said and went to roust my mother out of her workaholism to join us for some quiet entertainment.
“I’m going to go up and see if Erin’s awake,” I said to Meghan. “If she is, I’m dragging her cranky butt down here to join us.”
My friend looked worried. “She said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“And? Was she sick? Temperature, headache, throwing up, bleeding?”
She barely managed not to smile. “Well, go ahead and check. But don’t make her come down if she doesn’t want to.”
“Deal,” I went upstairs, leaving the movie selection to the others.

Erin’s eyes were tightly
closed, and the book she’d been reading had fallen open on her lap, still in her hands. Her breathing was deep, if a bit forced. When I looked closely, I saw the book was upside down. I stood by the bed for a minute, listening and watching and waiting.
Her eye cracked open the tiniest bit, checking to see if I was still there.
“Faker,” I said.
The eye clamped shut, and she turned on her side with a murmur.
Uh huh. Nice try.
I flopped down on the bed beside her and put my face up close to hers. It didn’t take long. Both eyes popped open, and she sat up.
“God, Sophie Mae!”
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” I sat up, too.
“I am now.” A whine on the edge of her words.
“Oh, you were before. Now c’mon, Bug. Tell me what the heck is going on.”
“Nothing.”
“Horse poo. Something’s up, and I’ve got to tell you, I’m getting pretty sick of wondering why you’re so ticked off all the time. Your mom, too. Even Kelly thinks you’re mad at him.”
Unhappiness rose behind her eyes. “I’m not mad.”
I inclined my head and waited.
“Not really,” she said.
“You’ve been acting funny since before we got here. Back in Cadyville.”
She picked at the bedspread with a ragged fingernail.
“About the time that all the construction started on the house.”
Erin chewed gently on her lower lip. When she finally looked up, her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”
My heart melted. “Oh, Bug.” I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay. I bet all the changes lately have thrown you for a loop.” Pulling back, I held her gaze. “We never really talked to you much about Barr moving in after we’re married.”
“But I’m happy about it!” she insisted through her tears.
“I know. But wanting to be happy about something is one thing. Actually seeing all the changes happening around you is different.” I was thinking out loud. “Your home is a mess, and now someone else will be living there. We’re trying to keep things the same in many ways, but it’ll be different in some ways, too.”
Erin’s shoulders slumped, and she whispered, “It’s kind of scary.”
I wanted to wrap this child up and keep her safe forever. But I couldn’t. Erin was an only child, and while Meghan and I didn’t exactly spoil her, she was still the center of attention a lot of the time. Barr was going to encroach on that, as might Kelly. No wonder she was taking some of her angst out on him.
“It is a little scary. For me, too.”
Her eyes widened, and one big drop fell onto her cheek. “Really?”
“Sure. Change is always scary. It’s just that the longer you live, the more you get used to it. Nothing ever stays the same, but after a while you get so that you believe in your own ability to deal with whatever happens.”
Erin looked thoughtful. “So the more weird stuff you get in life, the better you are at coping?”
I laughed. “Something like that. You’ve had some stuff happen already, right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”
For example, a degenerate gambler of a father who nearly got her killed, a wacky grandmother who should have been in jail, a newly discovered relative, and a hyper intelligence that made her a little too aware of what was going on around her sometimes.
“Like you finding dead bodies all the time?” she asked.
“Ha ha.” That, too. “And it all turned out okay, right?”
She nodded.
“This will, too. I know you like Barr. We can’t be sure exactly what it’ll be like for us all to live together, but I bet it’ll be fun.”
The smile that ventured onto her face sent a bolt of relief through me. Our old Erin was on her way back.
“Will you come downstairs and watch a movie with us? Everyone wants you to.”
“They do?” Her words were so tentative it made my heart ache.
“Yes. We do. Anna Belle thinks you’re the slickest thing since sliced bread, your mom and I miss you, and Barr and Dad think you’re pretty special, too. And Kelly?”
Her chin jerked up, and I saw another issue which had been bothering her. “Kelly adores you.” I leaned in. “You know what else?”
She feigned disinterest, putting her bookmark in her upside down book. “What?”
“No one, not Kelly, not anyone, is ever going to come between you and your mom.”
She paused.
“Deep down, you know that, right?”
The eyes that met my gaze then were clear and bright. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
“Okay then. Let’s go see what movie they picked for us to watch and get you some dinner.”
She slid off the bed. “Okay. Sophie Mae?”
I put my hand on her shoulder and hugged her against my side. “Yeah?”
“Thanks. For, you know, getting it and not hating me for being so mean to you. I didn’t mean, I mean, I didn’t want—”
“Silly Bug, I couldn’t hate you.”
She hugged me back.
“But don’t you ever do that to me again,” I said with fake menace.
Her laughter tumbled down the stairwell as we went to join the others.