Iris Avenue (6 page)

After her shower, Hannah went to the computer and looked up the contact information for Sam’s former MIT roommate, Alan Davidson. They had stayed in close contact, and Alan visited them every summer. He had an engineering degree and was the founding partner of a company that designed prosthetic devices–a career inspired by his college roommate. Sam had said he was going to Boston on business, and Alan lived outside of Boston, so it wasn’t exactly a wild guess.

He answered on the second ring.

“I’ve been expecting your call,” he said.

“Is he staying with you?” Hannah asked.

“Yep,” Alan said.

“Is he with you now?”

“Nope,” Alan said. “But I’m in a meeting. Can I call you later?”

“Sure,” Hannah said, and disconnected the call.

About an hour later Alan called her back.

“Okay,” he said. “Since you called me first I’m not breaking any friendship codes or anything.”

“Heaven forbid,” Hannah said. “Too bad my husband’s not as concerned about his marriage vows.”

“You knew how he was when you married him,” Alan said. “I warned you myself.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“He did come up here to work for one of his war machine clients, which I think is kind of ironic, considering how poorly they protected him in the Gulf.”

“I’m well aware of your political beliefs,” Hannah said. “I’ve heard you two argue about them enough.”

“He finished that job a few days ago and now he’s taking some time off.”

“What’s the mood?” Hannah asked. “Prince of Darkness or Superhero?”

“A little of both. He’s seeing his counselor every day, so that’s positive, right?”

“No, that’s great, really. Thanks for looking after him. Do you think he’s planning to come home anytime soon?”

“Yes, I do. I think he’s doing this so he can come home.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t want to betray his confidence, but I can say that he wants to make certain improvements before he comes home, and he’s working hard to make those improvements, so that when he does come home, things will be better.”

“You suck at keeping a secret. Does this mean he intends to be walking when he comes home?”

“Possibly.”

“You know I don’t care about that.”

“But he does, Hannah. That’s the thing. He needs to do it for himself.”

“But he’s tried this before; it’s so painful for him.”

“The types of prosthesis we use now are a hundred times better, Hannah. Plus he’s had all this time for his knees to heal and build up muscle tissue. You’ll be amazed at what we can do now, and how comfortable these are for him. We’re working with the manufacturer to make a special cleat attachment that will keep him from slipping on the snow and ice.”

Alan’s voice became excited, as it always did when he talked about his work.

“We have ones with snowshoe attachments. We have skis he can use. I’ve got clients with less limb structure than Sam who run track, and they compete against fully limbed runners.”

“I’m sure it’s all great, Alan, and I appreciate you helping Sam. I just don’t think our marriage can survive another setback.”

“I honestly think it will be okay this time. I plan to come down with him and make any adjustments that need to be made. I won’t let him fail.”

“Listen, you can move in with us if you want. I need all the help I can get.”

“That bad, huh?” Alan asked her. “How are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice faltering. “Not good.”

“Can I give you some advice?”

“For all the good it will do,” she said, sniffing.

“Listen to me. You have to take care of yourself. You have to do whatever it is you need to do to be healthy, strong, and happy, and let Sam do this thing he needs to do. Then when you get back together, which I have no doubt you will, you’ll both be strong, healthy, and happy, together.”

“Can you cross-stitch that on a pillow for me?”

“I mean it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Davidson. You are, like, the best guidance counselor, like, ever.”

“Give those dogs a big hug for me.”

“I will.”

Hannah hung up and looked down at her tummy.

“Are you hungry?” she asked the unconfirmed baby. “What would you like to eat?”

She listened intently, and could only hear the tick of the clock on the kitchen wall, the wind whistling around the house, and the whoosh of the gas furnace coming on.

“Pretzels? I love pretzels too!” she told her tummy. “Whattaya say we keep ‘em down this time?”

Scott found Mandy working at the Rose and Thorn. She was laughing when he walked in but her face fell when she saw him. There were only a couple of customers sitting at the bar, so Scott and Mandy sat down in a booth near the door (as far away from Patrick as possible) and Scott handed Mandy the print-out of the driver’s licenses. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“This looks real bad, I know,” she said. “Are you gonna arrest me?”

“Just tell me what happened,” Scott said. “If I can help you, I will.”

“I should’ve left town,” she said. “As soon as I knew Margie had the letters.”

“Was Miranda Wilson Tommy’s mother?”

Mandy nodded.

“Was she involved with drugs?”

“She was a crackhead.”

“Was he mistreated?”

“She didn’t hurt him, she just didn’t pay any attention to him. I’d hear him cryin’ from next door; it’d go on for hours. One day I went over to the house, walked past all of them sittin’ around, high outta their minds, picked him up, and took him home with me. She didn’t care.”

“How did you meet her?”

“She showed up with them losers my husband was hanging out with, bunch of drug addicts. They got this big idea they was gonna make meth, said it was easy money. They went through the first batch instead of selling it.”

“Was the baby in the house with the lab?”

“No, I took him outta there before that started; I didn’t want no part of it. Miranda didn’t care about nothin’ but the crack pipe and the meth. Our neighbor, Consuela, let us stay in her apartment; she would’ve reported Miranda to social services but she employed illegals in her business and didn’t want them to get sent back to Mexico.”

For once Scott was glad for the loud Irish folk music Patrick liked to play, because it gave Mandy and him some privacy.

“Tell me what happened, step by step.”

“Dallas dealt some drugs to an undercover cop and got arrested. He told them he would testify against some big-time dealer to get out of it. They let him go and he didn’t last two days. I knew when he didn’t come home that night he was dead. That was Saturday night. Early Sunday morning we heard gun shots and then an explosion. It knocked the pictures off Consuela’s walls.”

The words were pouring out of Mandy like it felt good to have them out. Scott stayed silent and waited for her to continue.

“I knew the cops would put Tommy in foster care. Miranda was a foster kid, and she told me how awful people treated her. When the police got there I told ‘em it was Melissa Wright who died. It just come outta my mouth before I knowed what I was sayin’.”

“They believed you?”

“They must’ve. The man wrote down everything I said and asked me to come in later and sign something.”

“But you didn’t go.”

“After the police and firemen left I broke into Miranda’s car. She’d left her dang purse in there. I knew it was a sign I was doin’ the right thing. I had her car, her ID and her baby. Consuela lent me some money and promised to keep in touch in case someone came snooping around asking questions.”

“Why did you come up here?”

“My mama died when I was little and my aunt raised me up in Markleysburg. I was fourteen when I run off to Florida with Dallas. After the explosion I thought I’d come back up here and she’d take us in. We got clear up there before I found out she was dead. We didn’t have nowhere else to go. The car broke down on the four-lane north a here and the state police called Curtis to tow it to Rose Hill.”

“And Ian and Delia took you in.”

“You know their little boy died when he was younger. Their daughter had gone to California and they let me and Tommy stay in her room and work at the bar until I could pay for the car repairs. After awhile I got to like it here and thought why not stay?”

“No better cover than living with the chief of police.”

“These people been nothin’ but good to me all these years, Scott. In my heart I know I done the right thing by Tommy.”

“So Consuela sent you the letters addressed to Melissa?”

“I paid her back the money I borrowed and kept in touch with her. I guess Miranda’s birth mother started looking for her. She’s got some disease and is gonna die soon, so she wants to see Tommy.”

“What’re you going do about that?”

“Tommy doesn’t know none of this; now Margie’s dead nobody knows about it but you, me, and Consuela.”

“Margie sent a letter to Ed before she died but he said he never received it.”

“Lucky me,” she said.

Out of the corner of his eye Scott could see that Patrick was about to yell at Mandy to get back to work, so he gave Patrick a pointed look and shook his head one quick shake. Patrick looked irritated but left them alone.

“I guess you gotta do something,” Mandy said.

“You broke the law,” Scott said.

“He would’ve died in that explosion,” Mandy said. “We both would have. Or she might’ve sold him to somebody to pay for drugs. I saved that baby’s life, Scott. That’s gotta count for something.”

“You assumed someone’s identity and kidnapped a child, Mandy. I know you had good intentions but if Miranda’s mother discovers what you did she could have you arrested and take custody of Tommy.”

“She gave Miranda up for adoption when she was just a baby,” Mandy said. “Maybe she wouldn’t know the difference.”

“I guess there’s a slim chance you could talk to her mother, tell her what happened, and maybe come to some agreement with her.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“I think it’s unlikely,” Scott said. “But she has a right to know her grandson before she dies.”

“If I took him and ran away, would you hunt us down?”

“Running away’s not going to solve anything,” Scott said. “She found you here, didn’t she?”

“I could go back to being Melissa,” Mandy said.

“Except the Social Security office would wonder why a dead person was suddenly earning wages.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Mandy said.

“Are you using Miranda’s Social Security number now?”

“I ain’t never filed a tax return,” Mandy said. “I get paid in cash and I pay in cash.”

Scott wished he didn’t know Mandy was employed illegally by the Fitzpatrick family. Since Theo Eldridge was murdered, Scott had discovered the more he found out about what went on in Rose Hill the less he wanted to know.

“Did you use Miranda’s ID to get a driver’s license here?”

“You might as well lock me up for that, too,” Mandy said. “I needed it to get his birth certificate so I could sign him up for school.”

Scott reflected that Mandy had been fortunate to land in a small town where everyone took her at face value and trusted what she said was the truth. After the Fitzpatricks took her under their wing she was as good as one of their family.

“Tommy had to get a Social Security card to work at the paper,” she said. “I think that’s how she done found us.”

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he said. “This is a mess.”

“I know it,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“I need more time to think this through,” Scott said. “Meanwhile, you tell Ed about it. Between me and Ed, we’ll help you figure out what’s the best thing to do.”

“He’s not gonna wanna have anything to do with me,” Mandy said. “You know him. He’s big on the truth tellin’.”

“He cares about you and he’ll help you,” Scott said. “Thank you for being honest with me, Mandy. Promise me you won’t run off and do anything stupid.”

“Where would I go?” she shrugged. “As far as the world’s concerned I’m dead.”

Scott stood up as the two customers left.

“You must think being a waitress means making the customers wait,” Patrick called from behind the bar. “I guess what I really need in here is a worktress.”

“Put a cork in it,” Mandy said. “I’m coming.”

Maggie Fitzpatrick put down the book she was reading after realizing that even though she’d been going through the motions of reading for several pages, her thoughts were elsewhere. The sun had gone down behind the hills on the other side of the Little Bear River, so she turned on lights as she went down the long hallway of her apartment, which was on the second floor of the building she owned that housed her bookstore.