Seven
KATE WAS SHOWING a house to a couple whose only concern was whether or not their antique dining table would fit.
“It belonged to my grandmother,” the husband explained.
She said she knew the perfect house for them and could show it to them that afternoon. They were delighted.
This morning she and Jack and Sara had been quiet. They were all thinking about what had happened since Janet Beeson had been murdered. While Kate and Jack went to work, Sara was to finish writing the report. They were going to meet for lunch, read what Sara had written, then she would email it to Sheriff Flynn.
And that would be the end of it. They strongly agreed on that.
When Kate left the house she’d been showing, Jack was leaning against her car. He opened the door for her to get in the passenger seat and she did. “Please tell me nothing bad has happened.”
“Everybody is safe and alive.” He pulled into the street. “We’re still meeting Sara for lunch but I thought that first we could run this through a wash.”
Jack took care of all vehicles, from the lawn mower to the two cars to his truck.
“So what is it you want to talk to me about?”
Jack gave a half smile. “You’re beginning to know me too well.”
He went to a car wash on Sunrise, drove onto the ramps, then turned to her. The loudly gushing water made the inside of the car seem very private.
“This morning I wouldn’t let Gil near a saw or a nail gun. If you plugged it in, I kept him away from it. Even so, he fell down four rungs of a ladder.”
“Is he okay?”
“Bloody shins but he’ll live.”
She could tell that he had something serious to say so she waited in silence.
“On the phone, Gil told Tayla that he had to watch Quinn every minute. I thought it was because he was a kid. But today when I asked him how his son was, I saw fear in Gil’s eyes. Deep, gut-level fear.”
Kate felt her heart do a leap. This summer Gil had often brought his son over to play in the pool. The nine-year-old boy was smart, funny, and happy. And he adored his big bear of a father. Kate had helped Quinn put on a surprise birthday party for Gil at Sara’s house. They’d bought a cake at the local bakery, and Jack had helped the child order a new hand plane from a specialty store in Vermont. At the party, it had been heartwarming to see the way Gil and his son hugged. It was as though their strength came from each other.
One time, Kate asked about Quinn’s mother, but Jack just said, “She’s out of the picture,” then walked away.
“Quinn is Gil’s life,” she said softly.
Jack was looking at the big yellow brushes going around the car. “Ten years ago, Gil went on vacation to California and he met her in a bar.” He didn’t bother to explain that he was talking about Quinn’s mother. “It was a one-nighter, but he did give her his email address. He didn’t hear from her until Quinn was three months old. Gil flew back, ready to move to California and help raise his son.”
Jack hesitated. “But the woman was using. Gil had a DNA test done and it was positive, so he knew Quinn was his. He gave her every dollar he’d saved over the years and he brought the baby home. He’s not seen or heard from her since. If Gil is this afraid, then it’s my guess that she’s reentered the picture.”
He paused a moment and Kate waited. “Last night I was thinking about Janet Beeson. She seemed to want to help everyone. What if Quinn’s mother showed up here with a sob story? Women tend to believe whoever cries.”
When Kate made no reply, Jack said, “No argument on that sexist statement?”
“Tears are usually a sign of pain. We notice, we care. Have you ever seen the woman?”
“Never. And no photos.”
Kate put her head back against the seat. “Was there any paperwork between her and Gil?”
“None, and she is his biological mother. That carries a lot of weight.”
“All this is speculation,” Kate said. “We don’t know that any of this is true, and we certainly have no way to connect Quinn’s mother to Janet Be
eson.”