Twisted Paths (20 page)

Nearly fifteen minutes later, once the wardrobe decisions had been made, Mary and Clarissa climbed down the stairs towards the kitchen. “Something smells good,” Clarissa said, lifting her nose into the air and taking a deep sniff.

“It smells like blueberry muffins,” Mary said, “but that’s impossible. Only…”

“What’s impossible?” Stanley asked, coming to the bottom of the stairs. “That old folks like us could get up early enough to surprise a couple of sleepy heads with muffins?”

Mary gave Stanley a big hug. “Welcome home,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I’d still be on our honeymoon iffen I had any say in the matter,” he grumbled.

“Now Stanley,” Rosie called from the kitchen. “You know you were just as excited to come home.”

Rosie came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the towel tucked into her waistband and enveloped Mary in a hug. “We heard about your newest family member and couldn’t wait to meet her.”

Clarissa had stopped several steps above them, not quite sure what she should do. When Mary held her hand up to her, she eagerly took it and came down the last few steps.

“Clarissa, I want you to meet two of my dearest friends,” Mary said. “This is Mr…”

“Poppa Stanley,” Stanley interrupted. “That’s what all my grandkids call me.  You just call me Poppa Stanley.”

“And I’m your Nanna Rosie,” Rosie said, coming forward and hugging the little girl. “We are so happy to meet you. We already love you.”

Clarissa looked over at Mary. “I have more grandparents?” she asked, her eyes wide in wonder.

“I suppose you do,” she replied with a wide smile. “And you’ll meet more of your grandparents next week.”

“How do you feel about blueberry muffins for breakfast?” Rosie asked.

“I feel very good about them,” Clarissa answered, taking Rosie’s hand and allowing her to lead her to the kitchen table. “Are you a good cooker?”

“She’s the best cooker in the world,” Stanley said with an indulgent smile. Then he turned to Mary and whispered, “How are things here?”

“Well, Gary Copper escaped from custody and we’ve had a couple of visits,” Mary replied. “He was even bold enough to walk up to Clarissa at school.  So, we’ve increased police security and we’re being cautious.”

Then she smiled at him. “Which reminds me, I need to change the password on my door lock.  It seems just anyone can let themselves in.”

Stanley laughed. “Not just anyone,” he said. “Poppa and Nanna Wagner.”

“Am I smelling muffins?” Ian asked as he half-stumbled down the stairs.

“Is that foreigner still here?” Stanley asked loudly.

Ian grinned. “Is that old man who stole my best girl here?”

“She chose the better man,” Stanley replied.

Coming into the living room, Ian gave Stanley a hug. “Aye, that she did,” he said. “Welcome back. And how was your honeymoon?”

“I ain’t gonna kiss and tell, young man,” Stanley said. “Suffice it to say, I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“Oh, Stanley, just stop it,” Rosie said from the kitchen.

Ian walked over to her and gave her a hug. “Darling, are you sure you made the right decision?” he asked, snatching a muffin from the plate she was carrying. “You can still run away with me.”

“Ian, I’m sorry, but Stanley completely stole my heart,” she replied. “I’m afraid I’ll have to turn you down.”

He took a bite of the muffin. “Rosie, my heart,” he said, his mouth full. “Do you, perhaps, have a sister?”

She giggled. “Oh, Ian.”

At that moment Bradley walked into the house.  He smelled the warm muffins and felt the love in the room. Rosie was bent over Clarissa, offering her another muffin. Stanley and Mary were laughing at something Ian had said and Ian was teasing Stanley.  This was his family.  These were the people who were going to help him raise his daughter. This was the security and love he’d longed for all of his life.

Clarissa looked over at Mary. “Am I going to have a sister?” she asked.

There was silence in the room for a moment. Mary turned and saw Bradley standing near the door and her face flushed.  He immediately remembered the vision of her in his dream, pregnant and glowing. The perfect Madonna.  He walked over to Mary and took her in his arms, kissing her tenderly. “Maybe someday, Clarissa,” he said, still looking into Mary’s eyes. “Maybe someday you will have a sister and a brother too.”

“Well, you two can make smoochie faces with each other,” Stanley growled. “I’m getting some muffins afore they’re cold.”

Clarissa laughed. “Smoochie faces? That’s funny Poppa Stanley.”

“Poppa Stanley?” Bradley asked, one eyebrow raised.

“We’re just one big happy family,” Mary replied with a smile.

Bradley leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Yes. Yes we are.”

Chapter Forty-five

An hour later, the house was much quieter. Bradley had driven Clarissa to school and Rosie and Stanley had gone home so Mary and Ian could get some work done.

Bradley had brought Faith Foley’s background check with him that morning and now Mary and Ian were finally getting around to reading it.

“I know it all revolves around Faith,” Mary said, pulling up a chair at the table. “I just can’t quite put my finger on what.”

“Well, this ought to help,” Ian said, lifting the multi-paged report up and dividing it into two piles. “I’ll take the front half and you take the back half.”

 They both began to study the report, carefully inching their way down each sheet, looking for pertinent information.

“This is odd,” Ian remarked.

“What?” Mary asked.

“The boarding school in Switzerland,” Ian said. “It’s a grand school, but it was generally known as a place where, um, larger girls could go and become a more acceptable size.”

“Well, that’s odd because all of the photos of Faith show her to be extremely thin,” Mary said. “Is there another reason she would be sent there?”

“Well, maybe to learn how to be sympathetic to girls who weren’t the perfect size 2,” Ian suggested. “And, for a generally good liberal arts education.”

“Okay, that could be the ultimate therapy,” Mary said. “Go to a school with a bunch of girls like your sister and become friends. Perhaps make amends for the mean things you did to her by being nice to others.”

Ian shrugged and looked back down at the report. “Could be,” he murmured, his focus back on the page.

“Her grades were really good,” he commented. “And this isn’t an easy school.”

“That’s odd, because her G.P.A. in Freeport was really bad,” Mary said. “She wasn’t the scholar in the family.”

“Well, tragedy changes people,” he said.

They continued to read. “She went to Stanford after Switzerland,” Mary said. “She got a B.S. in Psychology and then got her Law Degree.  Sounds like the good grades continued.

“Wait, did you say a B.S. in Psychology?” Ian asked.

Mary nodded. “Why?”

“Stanford’s Psychology Department has done a tremendous amount of research on using hypnosis,” he said. “I worked with some people from Stanford when I learned how to hypnotize subjects for my research.  They really are top of their game.”

“Hypnosis. Really?” Mary asked. “Could someone be hypnotized to kill themselves?”

“Depends on the subject and the suggestion that was given,” Ian said. “It’s generally easier to have someone follow a hypnotic suggestion if they are in sympathy with the request.”

“If someone made you feel that you might have been responsible for another’s death, would that be sympathetic enough?” Mary asked.

“Aye, that would work,” Ian said. “So Faith is avenging her sister’s death.”

“You would think that’s the case,” Mary said. “But that doesn’t make sense with what we saw. Hope’s death was an accident, she was playing…”

Mary stopped for a moment, stared into space and then quickly turned to Ian. “Do you still have the police report about Hope’s death?”

Ian nodded and rustled through the pile of folders, finally pulling out the correct one. He handed it to Mary.  Quickly flipping it open, she scanned the report looking for the coroner’s report.

“This is it,” she said. “This is what’s wrong with the whole thing.”

“What?” Ian asked.

“The Coroner lists Hope’s weight at 116,” Mary said. “From the photos we have of Hope, there was no way she was 116 pounds.”

“Could be a typo,” Ian said.

Mary nodded. “Yes, or it could be something entirely different.  Let’s go to the nursing home and find out.”

Chapter Forty-six

True to her word, Katie Brennan planned on spending the entire day in her house working on projects.  She had locked both the front and back door and was starting to clean out the hallway closet when there was a sharp rap on the front door.

“I’m not home,” she muttered to herself, ignoring the knock and sorting through the stacks of magazines stored in boxes.

The knock repeated, more urgently this time.

“I’m not…,” she paused.

What if one of the kids had been hurt and they hadn’t been able to get a hold of her? What if the police were outside her door? What if the house next door was on fire?

She scrambled to her feet and hurried to the front door.  Peering through the peephole, she saw Faith Foley standing on her porch.

“How odd,” she thought aloud. “I haven’t seen Faith in years.”

She opened the door.

“Oh, Katie, I’m so sorry to bother you,” Faith said quickly. “I’ve been speaking with your friends, Mary and Ian, and they told me about the suicides.  I mean, I guess the murders.”

Katie nodded. “Yes, it’s pretty weird, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s weird and scary,” Faith agreed. “And they said you and I were the only two left in the yearbook photo. I am so sorry I dragged you into this, I had no idea…”

“Well, of course you didn’t,” Katie said. “How could you even imagine that so many years later someone would be avenging Hope’s death.”

Faith hung her head and pulled out a tissue. “It’s just like it was yesterday,” she said quietly into her tissue. “I can still remember her in such detail.”

“Oh, Faith, I’m so sorry,” Katie said. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like to lose someone you love so much.”

Faith lifted her head and dabbed around her eyes. “It’s just…,” she began and then she took a shuddering breath. “Every year, on the anniversary of her death, I have a private memorial service for her. But this year, I hate to admit that I’m afraid to be alone.”

“Well, I understand that,” Katie said. “Mary said that whoever did this would be looking at either you or me.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Faith lifted her head and smiled. “Exactly, we’re the only people we can trust,” she exclaimed. “That’s why I’m here.”

Confused, Katie shook her head. “Why?”

“Because I need you to come with me to the memorial service,” she explained. “I can trust you and I really need to do this for Hope.”

Stepping back, Katie hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “Mary was pretty adamant about me staying home.”

“But, if someone was actually looking for you, wouldn’t they come to your home first?” Faith reasoned. “And if someone was looking for me, they’d come to my office or my house.”

“Yes, that makes sense.”

“So, we can go back to my old house,” Faith said. “I still have a key.  We could have a quick memorial service in Hope’s bedroom.  It would mean so much to me. Please, Katie, I can’t take no for an answer.”

“I don’t know…” Katie stammered.

“Please, Katie, I don’t want to be out there alone,” she said.

Finally, Katie agreed. “Okay, just let me call Mary and tell her what we’re doing.”

“Why don’t you get ready and I call Mary,” Faith suggested. “Then we can get going faster.”

“Okay,” Katie said, opening the door and inviting Faith in. “Just have a seat in the living room and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Katie ran upstairs to change from sweats into jeans, a nicer blouse and shoes.  She grabbed her cell phone and was about to stuff it in her purse, when she decided to send a quick text to Mary.
“Sorry, don’t be mad.  But Faith was pretty insistent.  No one will think to look for us at her old house.”

She pressed “send” and started to place the phone in the pocket of her purse, but stopped, shook her head, and instead slipped it into the pocket of her jeans.  Then she hurried downstairs.

“I’ll drive,” Faith said. “That way it will look like you’re still home.”

“Great idea,” Katie agreed. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Forty-seven

Mary and Ian hurried down the hall of the nursing home and found Gloria Foley sitting in a chair, looking out the window once again. “Gloria, it’s so good to see you again,” Mary said with false brightness. “Ian and I just wanted to stop by and thank you for all of your help.”

Gloria turned to Mary, her face showing her obvious confusion. “I’m sorry, have we met?” she asked.

“Why yes we have,” Mary said, sitting down across from her. “We spent some time with you earlier this week discussing your beautiful daughter.”

Gloria smiled. “You knew Faith?” she asked.

Mary nodded. “Yes, I met her a couple of times. Do you miss her?”

Gloria nodded. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” she said sadly. “Of course, I’m not supposed to speak about it.  You know, it’s a secret.”

“I know,” Mary said. “And I must say your family has done an admirable job of hiding things.”

Gloria nodded and smiled brightly. “Well, of course, we knew no one would believe that Faith would kill herself,” she explained. “She was too popular. Too well-loved.”

“And if the police investigated, they would learn the truth,” Mary said, encouraging Gloria.

“Yes,” Gloria replied, “it was bad enough that she was dead, but to learn that she had been taunting her sister.  Encouraging Hope to kill herself. Well, her name would have been ruined.”

Ian pulled up a seat next to both of them. “So, Faith set up the noose and was standing on the chair when Hope came into the room,” he said, nodding in understanding. “She laughed at Hope and told her she should just end it.”

“Yes, and then Hope slammed out of the room and that stupid short in the electric panel caused the fan to start to spin,” Gloria said, “causing the cord to tighten around Faith’s neck.”