Unsafe Haven (21 page)

“You mean, when you took over. And took from Mike.” Wendy dropped the vest on the nearest table and crossed her arms over her chest. She advanced a step as Kendall instinctively retreated. “You’ve really settled in, haven’t you? The town. This store.” Her arms extended in an encompassing gesture. “You’ve made new friends, too. Jo and Frank.” Another step forward. Her eyes bore into Kendall’s, her mouth took on a downward turn. “Denn and Luna.”

“What are you getting at, Wendy?” Kendall was in no mood for puzzles and Wendy’s attitude had just zipped past strange and gone all the way to creepy. She spread her hands in impatience. “If you have something to say to me, please say it, and go.”

“Oh, I have something to say, don’t doubt it.” Wendy dropped her arms and her hands balled into fists. “Denn and I were on the verge of something permanent when you came along. I don’t like poachers, Kendall.”

Kendall gaped at her. “Poaching? That’s what this is about? Good grief. Look, Denn’s an adult. He makes his own choices. He never promised you anything except friendship, and you know it, deep down inside. At least be honest with yourself.”

“You want honesty?” Wendy’s demeanor slipped from creepy to menacing. “He
looked
at me. He
saw
me. We’d have breakfast together twice a week, we’d go to lunch often. He talked to me, shared with me.” She inhaled several heavy breaths and her face took on a mottled flush. “Then you got here and ruined it.” Her breathing went choppy and she started to tremble. “Just like you ruined things with my father.”

“Your father? What are you talking about?” Kendall stared at her in complete bewilderment.

Then suddenly she knew. Wendy’s comments, the day Kendall first came to town. Her shock at hearing The Last Outfitter Post had been sold and its previous owner had moved to Fairbanks without a word to anyone.

Oh, my God.

Kendall’s impatience, her ire, instantly evaporated. “Mike Nulty is your father.” She spoke slowly, meeting Wendy’s anger with compassion.

“Yes. He’s my father.” Wendy seemed to deflate, and she slumped against the table. “He came to Staamat, where he met my mother. They had an affair. He left her and returned to Fairbanks. Back to his wife.”

She blinked rapidly, but tears spilled over and slipped down her pale cheeks. “My mother loved him. There was never any question she’d have me. As far as I know, she loves him to this day. She married a local bastard who treated her badly, neglected me, and when she finally divorced him, all we had left was the Four Hills. I don’t think she ever gave up hope Nulty would come back and marry her.”

“But he did come back,” Kendall said quietly.

Wendy nodded. “Yes, he came back. He had some money and built The Post. Ran it for ten years. By then, he and his wife split and the only thing he claimed back in Fairbanks was Cathy, my half-sister. I’ve never met her.” She rubbed her fingers over her eyes. “I didn’t know any of this until about a month before my mother moved back to Beijing. She got tired of waiting for Nulty to claim her.”

“Did Mike ever find out you were . . .” Kendall trailed off, then gestured helplessly.

“Oh, yes. I confronted him with it. I was depressed, alone. Trying to run the Four Hills by myself. He said he already knew. My mother had told him soon after he moved to Staamat. They’d made the choice to keep it a secret because he didn’t want to acknowledge me as a daughter and she would never have gone against his
wishes
.” Wendy spat out the word as if it contained poison.

“Oh, Lord. Wendy . . . I don’t know what to say to you. I’m sorry.” Kendall was at a loss as she tried to imagine Wendy’s pain. A mother, gone, and a father who didn’t want her. How devastated she must have been.

Wendy released a deep sigh. “It wasn’t my happiest hour. But I tried to get to know Nulty, and for a while we did all right together. I’d see him in town and we’d chat. He’d stop by Four Hills once in a while and have breakfast with me. We were friends, and I figured we’d get closer. But then, he told Denn and me he was going to visit the grandkids, see Cathy. He took off and I didn’t know it was the last time I’d ever see him. Until you came to town and told me you’d bought The Post.” Wendy wiped away fresh tears.

“Wendy . . .”

What on earth can I say to her?

Kendall wanted to reach out somehow, but doubted Wendy would accept a gesture from her. She chose her words with care. “Your mother had her reasons for not telling you about your father, just as Mike Nulty had his reasons for . . . well, for what he did. I’m truly, deeply sorry you felt abandoned. But it doesn’t change the fact you’ve made a good life for yourself. You’ve become a successful businesswoman in a tough economy. Those are things to be proud of. You’re well liked in town, respected. You have a lot of friends here.” She hesitated, then gently added, “Including me.”

For almost a full minute, Wendy was silent, as if pondering Kendall’s reassurances. She tilted her head to one side, regarding her somberly. Then a strangely sad smile curved her lips.

She gave a slight shake of her head. “Keep the key. Nulty didn’t know I had it. As for being friends”—she shrugged, still smiling oddly—“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”

Before Kendall could ask what she meant, Wendy pivoted on her bare feet and walked out. The door swung shut behind her.

“You’re getting good at that.” Kendall gave a thumbs-up of approval as Luna finished diapering Grant, then lifted him to her shoulder to snuggle him, one hand supporting his head.

Luna kissed the baby’s satiny cheek. “He’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. They both are.” She watched Kendall bathing Graham, whose placid personality came shining through inasmuch as he’d slept through most of it. “I wish I could give them baths.”

“Well, get used to holding them, and we’ll see,” Jo croaked from the bathroom doorway. She swayed on her feet, pale and trembling, one hand clutching the doorframe.

“Jo, get back in bed,” Kendall admonished.

“God, you’re worse than Frank, ordering me to bed. And he’s doing it by phone half the time,” Jo grumbled. She gazed wistfully at her cherubic offspring. “It’ll be another week before I can get close enough to nurse them.” She perched on the edge of her mattress. Luna handed her a respirator mask and Jo glared at it. “I hate those things.”

“Put it on, or else forfeit the kid.” Kendall lifted Graham from his bathtub and wrapped him in a towel. He slept on, giving an occasional yawn. “You little doll-baby. What a good boy you are.”

“They’ll forget all about me, Kendall,” Jo said mournfully, as she tucked the mask into place.

“Oh, they will not.” Kendall flapped her hand dismissively. “Pet said as long as they’re getting your milk, they won’t forget. It’s not like you haven’t been sick before while you nursed, Jo. It’ll all work out. And lay down before you fall over.”

She slapped a fresh diaper on Graham and swaddled him. She carried him to Jo, who eagerly held out her arms and cuddled him close, cooing to him from behind her mask.

“Did you see the masks Jeffie trimmed down for the babies?” Luna jerked her chin toward the nightstand. A Ziploc bag containing the altered masks sat propped against a bedside lamp. “He’s so talented. He wants to be an engineer. I still don’t know what I want to do when I go to college.”

Luna rocked Grant, slow dancing in place when he fussed and wriggled within the confines of his swaddling. She appealed to Jo and Kendall. “What’s a good career for me?”

“Professional Nuisance, perhaps?” Kendall made a goofy face at her as Jo rasped out a snigger.

“You’ve been hanging around Denn too long.” Luna stuck her tongue out at Kendall and clutched Grant tighter when he flailed his miniscule arm. “Man, he’s strong. Think he’s hungry?”

“Probably. I swear, they’ve yet to eat at the same time. One’s always asleep when the other’s ready to chow down.” Jo stroked Graham’s silky hair. “Can you feed Grant for me?”

Luna’s eyes lit up. “Sure!” She handed the baby off to Kendall.

“Four ounces, Luna. Use the packets in the freezer, first. Jo pumped those last night. You might as well make one up for Graham, too. And don’t get it boiling like last time,” Kendall cautioned.

Luna’s head popped around the bedroom door. “How’d you know about that?”

“Bax sees all, tells all,” Jo intoned. “He’s a blabbermouth. Telephone, telegraph, or tell Bax.” She emitted a hoarse chuckle at her own joke, while Luna offered a puzzled frown.

“What’s a telegraph?”

Kendall shooed her back into the kitchen. “Never mind, just get the bottles ready.” She carried Grant to the bed and sat next to Jo. “If you don’t breathe in his direction, you can take the mask off. Deal?”

With relief, Jo yanked at the mask and handed it to Kendall. “A few cold germs won’t hurt them. As long as they’re my cold germs. Helps to build up their immunities, too.” Jo trailed her fingers over Grant’s sleeping face. “But yeah, no sense in taking chances.”

She laid Graham low on her chest and gently turned his head. Immediately he awoke and began rooting around for her nipple. “See, an oinker.” She stroked his back and he calmed, falling asleep once more. “So, I hear you had a visitor at the store the other day.” Jo sent Kendall a toothsome smile.

“Oh, Lord. It was beyond weird. And how did you hear about it?”

“Wendy caught a ride with Frank when he went to pick Jeffie up. Said her car was on the fritz. Frank didn’t think anything of it.” Jo patted Graham as he emitted a series of baby hiccups. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Jo, I didn’t know what to think. She was barefoot, for one thing. Had a key and kind of broke in.” Kendall nodded when Jo’s jaw dropped. “She really did. She started out threatening me, then ended up telling me all about Mike Nulty and crying.”

“Oh, yeah. With Mike, she never could leave well enough alone. I’m not saying I condone his decision to deny Wendy as his kid. But he made his choice. And he did give Mei child support.”

“Does Wendy know?”

Jo shrugged. “I’m not sure. Mei sure loved him, though. She stood behind his choices, too. It caused a bad rift between Mei and Wendy when she found out. Probably one reason why Mei returned to China. Their relationship has been rocky ever since.”

“Well, Wendy shook me up, I can tell you.” Kendall propped Grant on her shoulder and jiggled him when he started to awaken and fuss. “She accused me of ruining her chances with Denn as well as her father. And I went from anger to feeling sorry for her.”

“Wendy’s been mooning over Denn for years, Kendall. He’s never returned those feelings. Any future she night have dreamed up for the two of them, she did it on her own.”

“I know that, Jo. And I realize most of Wendy’s problems stem from her abandonment issues. Mike, and in a way, Denn. I told her she ought to be proud of her accomplishments, her success in business. I even told her she could count me as a friend. And she said the weirdest thing.”

“What?”

Kendall shook her head, still confused after two days of pondering Wendy’s behavior. “She said as far as friendship was concerned, it wouldn’t be an issue. And the way she said it, I got the feeling she was . . . well, warning me.”

The deadbolt clicked, and Conroy gave himself a mental pat on the back. Though it had been years since he’d tried his hand at picking a lock, he hadn’t lost his touch. He’d practiced during his teens, breaking into his neighbors’ homes for the adrenaline rush he got. Nice to know it hadn’t been a waste of time. He pocketed the tiny tool and eased the door open.

Stale and stuffy, the apartment’s central air unit could use some repair. Conroy loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, briefly wishing he’d packed more casual clothing. But he’d wanted to give the impression of a week scheduled with business meetings and had filled his suitcase accordingly. He rolled up his sleeves and locked the door behind him.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he examined his surroundings, such as they were. A tiny foyer, barely big enough for the coat tree shoved into the corner, opened into a boxy living room. He could see indentations in the oatmeal-colored carpet, where a sofa might have sat. Drapes, pulled tightly against the late-afternoon sunlight, sported a few deep creases and crookedly sewn hems. He found them supremely depressing.

He stepped through an archway into a kitchen roughly half the size of the master bath in his Portland condo. The walls were papered in a hideous pattern of blue and yellow stripes, complete with a border of smiling, cavorting cows.

She left me, for this. Left the luxury I heaped on her. For this!

Conroy’s hands clenched into tight fists and it took every ounce of his waning control to stop himself from punching a hole in the wall. He’d have happily aimed for the nearest grinning bovine, just to satisfy the pounding need for violence.

He seethed as he exited the kitchen and crossed a sad excuse for a hallway into what he could only surmise was a bedroom. More oatmeal carpeting. A dinky closet with a single hanging rod that wouldn’t have held a tenth of his shirt collection. A connecting bathroom with a dingy shower curtain and a chipped porcelain sink.

The mirror’s silver backing had worn in places and grayish speckles dotted the surface. One of the larger spots shaded the utter fury he knew he’d see if he moved an inch to the left and peered into his own eyes.

This time he didn’t resist when the urge to annihilate swept over him. He grasped the shower curtain in both hands, then ripped it from its rusted metal rings and shredded the plastic. He threw it in the tub.

I have to get out of here.
In his haste, he tripped over a cheap floor rug and almost fell through the door.

Deep breaths helped to calm him as he stood in the empty bedroom and forced his fists to relax, silently commanding his body to regain control. Cold logic, rather than hot impulsiveness, would see him through. His goal within reach, he only needed to contain himself a few more days.

Just a few more days.

Another deep breath, which he held for a second, caught him off-guard. He released it, inhaled again, then again.

He could smell her in this room. Her unique perfume lingered, spices and flowers and Victoria, a ghostly trace that hadn’t dissipated when the landlord, or whoever owned this pathetic rental unit, had cleaned. Conroy closed his eyes, savoring the fragrance, almost weeping at its soothing effect. For several minutes, he circled the room and breathed deeply before pausing close to the drapes where the scent seemed strongest.

Had she posed at this window after her bath, drying herself in the sunlight? Was that why the scent of her skin remained after so many months? He clutched a handful of the lined material, brought it to his nose, and inhaled. He flung the drapes aside in a sneezing fit when he took in nothing but dust. Cursing, he strode from the room.

He wiped his face, then pressed his fingers to his temples to stave off the throb of an encroaching headache. Lately, they occurred with increasing frequency, forcing him to rely on medication that dulled his senses and made him drowsy. He couldn’t afford either, not right now.

“I can get past this. And I’ll have her in my arms. I’ll have everything I want, all I need,” Conroy muttered to himself as he exited the apartment, locking the door carefully behind him.

A quick perusal of the immediate area assured him he hadn’t been seen. He strode to his rental car, started the engine, and sighed in relief when the air conditioner kicked in and blew cool air over his perspiring face. He relaxed into his seat and tipped his head back.

He’d taken an enormous chance, coming here, nosing around. But he’d wanted to see for himself the substandard lodgings she’d willingly embraced as a result of her childish rebellion. Consequence always followed impulsive action, and this crumbling apartment complex, located in an older section of Pendleton, proved to Conroy just how impulsive his errant fiancée had become.

I’ll discipline it out of her. When I’m finished, she’ll be the perfect companion.

Conroy smiled as he shifted into gear and drove from the potholed parking lot. Tomorrow, it began. He’d take back what belonged to him.