The Puzzle (26 page)

“Well, I was drinking pretty heavily back then, as you very well know by now I’m sure. You seem to be
well-versed
so far. Plus, I was wallowing in my own regrets and pretty much out of it when Anna came back to give me the devastating news of what she did with our baby. I’m not sure, but I believe that was about the time Martha was gone traveling. But later on, I found out she wasn’t traveling at all. She just needed to get out of town.” He turned in my direction.

“That explains why Martha went sort of crazy when Carl died. I never would have figured out that one at all. Talk about heartbreak! You just never know what goes on right in front of you, even as you’re searching for a way out yourself and trying to get a handle on why things happen the way they do.”

I pushed away from the counter. “I’m determined to dig up the truth and don’t intend to stop until then.”

It wasn’t just because I wanted to know who Stephen’s parents were. There was more to it. What and where were the key and the numbers? My life has been threatened and I need to find out who was the killer.

“Thanks for explaining some of Stephen’s past. It means a lot.”

Jack walked me back to the entrance. “If you hang in there and eventually find out the truth about Stephen, it may not only surprise you, but might change the whole picture. Be careful while you’re traveling down that road, Samantha.”

Why would he say that?

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Be careful.”

I stopped at the door. “By the way, how did you find out about Martha?”

“Why, Barbara of course. She knows more than you think,” he replied, winking.

Chapter 50

Tea For
Who
?

I arranged for Barbara to join me for tea at my shop late in the afternoon when it wasn’t so busy. It was slow and I could still mind the store, while questioning her. I was curious as to why she was so knowledgeable about what went on so long ago, and apparently still had her ear to the ground as to my whereabouts. This woman, who was so demure and quiet on the outside, was teeming with undisclosed personal histories that I wanted access to.

She arrived right on time.

“Hello, Barbara. Glad you could make it. Come on in,” I gestured, escorting her in.

She whirled around in one spot at the center of the shop. “Samantha! How nice! It’s like entering someone’s home. You’ve done a marvelous job in decorating. I love it.”

“Thanks. Coming from you, after being in your home, I take that as a considerable compliment. Come on. Let’s have tea in the back, shall we?” I pointed to the room at the rear of the shop. “I have everything ready for us.”

She settled in easily, after an admiring comment on the view. I didn’t want to waste a minute in getting right to the point. What was the purpose? I hadn’t pulled the wool over anyone’s eyes.

“Jack said you knew Martha left town for about a year when she was much younger.”

“And you’re wondering how I knew?”

Talk about getting straight to the point. I should have been taking lessons from this woman from the beginning. It might have saved me a lot of time running around this town. Somehow, I couldn’t come up with a complete sentence. “Correct.”

She laughed. “Relax, Samantha. Go for it. Ask away.”

“Well, exactly how did you know about Martha’s pregnancy?”

“We crossed paths at the doctor’s office way back when we were still both young and foolish,” Barbara said, laughing. “She, obviously from the scared and frightened look on her face, was pregnant, and I was there trying to get pregnant. I put two and two together…”

“Yeah, I know the drill. And you got four,” I answered, as I bit into a cookie.

“It was easy enough. Carl was the one,” she said, sipping her tea.

“And you? Were you able to get pregnant?” I asked, as I drank some of mine.

“No. Unfortunately, nothing worked. But now that I look back, it was a very strange time. You know how ironic it was to see her get pregnant from a one-night stand? Here I was trying for years and coming up negative every time. I felt life was mocking my efforts and me. It was frustrating. Eventually though, Frank and I came to terms with that fact of life and accepted it.”

I steered the subject back to Martha again. “What about Carl Bently?” I asked. “How did you match the two of them up?”

“Easy. I knew he was married to someone else and, by chance, happened to catch sight of him leaving Martha’s place late one night on my way home as I passed by in my car. Later on I overheard that one liaison got Martha pregnant. Back then married men didn’t leave single women’s apartments at one in the morning if they were just having a cup of tea.”

She had me on that one. “I guess you’re right.”

She stood up to leave. “I’ve got to get back.”

We slowly walked back through the shop.

“So what about when she came back to town? Were you surprised to see her without the baby or did you think you might have possibly been wrong?”

“No. Anna returned home about the same time I was visiting at my parents’ house. One day I overheard her on their phone talking to Martha about an orphanage and that Martha should solve her problem the same way Anna solved hers, because in the end, it was best for the baby. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch the name of the baby.”

“But why didn’t Martha tell Jack the name of the orphanage when she found out he was looking for his son? Don’t you think that would have helped him in some way? Couldn’t you have approached her when you went back to Jack after you found out about his son?”

“I tried to intervene, but by that time Carl had died and Martha shut herself in like a hermit, not speaking to anyone, let alone me. No. It was a dead end. That subject was closed for her and everyone else, I’m afraid to say.” She paused. “Maybe, you should ask her now. She might be more willing to divulge the name, not that it would help much. You see if the baby was dropped off anonymously and with just a note pinned on the clothing, then even they can’t help you because of the privacy laws. You could be anybody falsely claiming that the baby was yours. There would be no tangible proof.”

After locking the door to the shop, I started to clean up, mulling over what she admitted and confirmed. Suddenly, I stopped short and shook my head and began laughing when I suddenly remembered Barbara’s slip of the tongue.

What in the world was
she
doing out at one in the morning?

Chapter 51

Molding Clay

If ever there was a certainty, it was having Clay show up totally unannounced and challenging my sanity and questioning my safety. He always seemed to be two steps ahead of or behind me, always lingering on the sidelines. For some strange reason though, he had given me a wide berth lately conveniently disappearing out of town. I hadn’t heard from him in several days.

It wasn’t that I minded–of course not! It’s just that I took note of his obvious absence, as another day passed by in my store. In any case, I had too much to think about. Mentally, my plate was full.

Physically, I was currently lugging a dresser from one side of the store to the other. It was backbreaking work, but I had convinced myself it would do better in another location. The bell jingled on the door of my shop. I turned expectantly. I swear, he must have extra sensory perception, instinctively knowing just when to show up on my doorstep.

Clay entered, wearing a smile that promptly vanished when he saw what I was doing. “Uh, maybe this is a bad time. I’ll come back later.” He turned to leave.

“Not so fast. Obviously, I could use some help.”

“You seem to be handling it just fine without me.”

“Come on. Get over here. Grab the other end,” I ordered. “It’s not that heavy.”

“Is this what you do all day? Lug this stuff around, back and forth, until it’s time to close?” he complained, as we placed it to my satisfaction at an angle in a corner.

Satisfied with its location, I smiled. “There. That should do it. And no, that’s not what I do all day. I’m usually way too busy embroidering, baking cookies or eating chocolates. You’re very amusing. You sure know how to get on a girl’s good side, don’t you? Do you actually practice those lines in front of a mirror?”

He ignored my snide response. “How have you been, Sam?”

“To be truthful? Pretty busy, running back and forth between work, home, and, recently, listening to numerous confessions.”

He grinned. “This might prove to be an interesting evening after all. How about dinner at that little Italian place at the edge of town? Were you getting ready to leave? If you say yes to my invite, I’ll help you close up. Besides, you’ve snagged my curiosity.”

“Your invitation does sound tempting. I was about to call it a night anyway. Want to get the lights and close those curtains at the front for me?”

Twenty minutes later, once again we sat across from each other at a restaurant. Only this time, we were seated in front of a fireplace with Italian music playing softly in the background. Placed in front of us were steaming plates of spaghetti and meatballs, tossed salad, and glasses of Chianti. The food and atmosphere did the trick. I was finally relaxing for the first time in weeks. I leaned back, staring at my adversary/friend?

Which one was he?

“So, what have you been up to?” he asked, as he took a bite of crusty bread.

“Yeah, like you don’t know already, right?” I challenged, sipping my wine.

“You can’t blame me for trying to play innocent, can you?”

“No, but at least have the decency to act like I’m not an idiot,” I countered, as I dug into my pasta. “By the way, this place was a good choice for dinner. The food is delicious.”

“Now you’re being way too friendly. Watch it. I’m starting to become suspicious.”

I smiled sweetly at him. “I think you’ll know when to be suspicious of my motives. You always seem to be two steps ahead of me anyway. How, I haven’t figured out yet. But mark my words, Clay, I will find out how you do it.”

He grinned right back. “I can’t wait,”

I plunged ahead. “Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries over with, let me ask you some questions.” I took another sip of wine for backup. “Ready?”

“Okay. Go ahead. I’m curious myself now,” he said, then scooped up more pasta.

“You’ve known all along about Barbara, Anna and Jack. Haven’t you?”

He set his fork down on his plate. “Not beating around the bush anymore, are you?”

“No, I’m not. What gives?” I leaned back and waited for his answer.

“Would you believe I learned about them from Martha?”

“I might.”

“I’m going to have to watch my step. You don’t seem to trust me lately, and are so suspicious of my answers. Now, why is that?”

“Because, you haven’t always been up truthful with me in the past. And now, you’re just stalling, attempting to stray from the subject, correct?”

“Okay. Here’s the unvarnished truth. I’ve known for ages about Barbara, Jack and Martha. I mean, in a small town like this, what do you expect? I heard about it from my Aunt Jenny years ago. She had a pretty good idea what was going on with them, and when Stephen started making inquiries about his parents, she put two and two together…”

I held up my hand, “…And got four! Boy, this town sure knows their math.”

He peered at me strangely. “What do numbers have to do with this?”

I was starting to get frustrated by his constant misdirection. “This whole thing revolves around numbers and you know it!”

“I just wanted to know how much you knew before saying anything else on the matter, that’s all. I like to watch my back too, you know.”

I had a strong hunch Clay knew more. “What do you think Stephen found out before he died? I mean, why did he do an about-face and just walk away from Jack? What was so upsetting to him, making him take such drastic action? Jack claimed he was concerned about numbers, thinking it had something to do with his banking.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out that one for quite a while,” admitted Clay. “If I had to speculate, I would say he found something that was so upsetting and contrary to what he thought was his past that he couldn’t handle it”

“But what about Martha?” I asked, finishing my salad. “Do you think she knew? I’m all over the map on this one, especially with all these stories.”

Clay took another sip of wine. “Why, what did she say?”

“That Stephen was on the verge of finding out who his real parents were.”

“Maybe you’ve been concentrating on the wrong subject.”

“No, I think the number references are birthdates. He was researching who his parents were all along. According to Martha, he was obsessed with it.”