Best-Kept Secrets

Susan Thomas gripped the back of a chair.

“Mom?”

“How on earth would I know them?” she asked faintly.

“Sorry. I stated that badly. I didn’t mean to imply that you knew them personally. We’re canvassing everyone who’s lived in Fools Point for a long time, trying to get some idea of who the woman and child could be.”

Amy had risen to go to her mother, but Susan waved her back and sank heavily onto the chair.

“Maybe you’d better come back later, Chief,” Amy said quickly. “Mom hasn’t been feeling well and—”

Her mother shook her head. “I’m fine, dear. It’s just such a shocking thing. Very upsetting.”

“Yes,” Hepplewhite agreed.

Amy perched on the edge of her chair, watching her mother closely.

Susan managed a wavery smile. “How can I help you, John?”

“I figure you and Cornelius probably know everybody in town.”

Her mother rallied. “I would hope so. Corny’s been delivering mail for over fifty years now.”

Hepplewhite smiled, catching Amy off guard once again. She hadn’t realized the chief was so much younger than he looked. With that shock of white hair and the lines bracketing his eyes, she’d originally thought him close to fifty. Now she revised her estimate down a good ten to fifteen years—maybe more. He was a nice-looking man with a lived-in face.

“Since I’ve only been in town three years, I have to rely on natives like you for information. We’d like to identify the woman and her child as quickly as possible.”

Amy knew the chief didn’t miss the way her mother’s fingers tightened on the edge of the tabletop. But Susan Thomas managed a sad smile. “Of course. Their poor family. How can I help?”

“We’re looking for anyone who might have been pregnant and suddenly went missing. Or someone who had an infant and disappeared.”

Susan shook her head. “I’m afraid Fools Point has seen the birth of a lot of babies over the years, but I can’t think of anyone who disappeared.”

Amy straightened in her chair. The chief glanced at her and she worked to keep her expression as blank as possible while apprehension crawled up her spine.

Her mother was lying.

“Do you know of anyone, Amy?” he asked calmly, obviously not aware of her mother’s perfidy.

“No.” She thought quickly, wanting to divert his attention from her mother. “Not precisely. But back when I was in high school several women disappeared, including a girl who graduated the year before I did. Remember, Mom? The police were looking for a serial rapist, I think. Most of the victims were from Frederick County, but one of the girls that lived out at Hearts Keep—Gabriella, I think it was, also disappeared about that same time.”

Hepplewhite shook his head. “I reviewed those cases and that one in particular when I took over as police chief. None of the missing women was known to be pregnant.”

“Well, as to that I wouldn’t be so sure. As I remember it, Gabriella was running with a pretty wild group at the time,” Susan rallied to argue.

“Something to keep in mind, but I’m thinking we need to go back further than that,” Hepplewhite said. “Based on the decomposition and the things I observed at the site, my guess is that those bodies were in that root cellar a lot longer than ten years.”

Because she was so attuned to her mother, Amy caught the shudder that seemed to run through her body.

“Long enough to have been a runaway slave or something? I think the Perry house might have been part of the underground railway way back around the time of the Civil War.”

“They aren’t that old.”

“How can you tell?” Amy asked.

“The clothing wasn’t that old, for one thing. The medical examiner will make the actual determination. There are forensic tests that will give us a good idea when the mother and child died, and hopefully what they died of. With any luck, we can also get DNA samples, but we’ll need something to compare them with.”

Amy saw her mother close her eyes as if she were in pain. “Mom?”

“Sorry, dear.” Susan’s eyes fluttered open. “I just keep thinking of the poor relatives.”

She was lying again. Amy was sure of it. Her mother’s hand trembled where it rested against the table. Amy became all bristling concern.

“Mom, I think you should go upstairs and lie down.”

“Yes, perhaps I should at that.”

That response scared Amy more than anything else. What was going on?

Hepplewhite’s expression became concerned. “Can I do anything to help?”

“No, no. I’ll be fine. I just find it distressing to think of that poor woman and her child down there all this time. Was she…Do you think she was—” her mother swallowed hard “—murdered?”

Hepplewhite looked chagrined. “It’s too early to say, Mrs. Thomas. I can tell you that I didn’t see any obvious signs of trauma. I had a preliminary glance around before the truck slipped gears and Lee and I had to scramble for our lives, but forensics isn’t really my field.”

“Is that what happened with the truck?” Amy demanded, still trying to divert his attention from her mother. “It slipped out of gear?”

“It’s one theory,” he confirmed. “Did you see anyone around the truck before it began moving?”

“Your officer asked us that yesterday. The answer is still no. We’d just gotten there. The truck was behind us.”

“Yes. You were almost directly in its path,” he said neutrally.

“That’s right. Jake threw us to the ground just in time.” She saw her mother shudder. Apparently so did Chief Hepplewhite.

“I’m sorry again.”

Susan put a hand to her chest. “You have a job to do. I understand, John. But I think…I wonder if you’d excuse me? I’m not feeling well right now.”

“Mom?” Amy was on her feet instantly, but her mother waved her off.

“I just need to go up and rest for a few moments. If you’ll both excuse me.”

“I am sorry,” Hepplewhite apologized sincerely. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not your fault.” Susan patted his arm. “I seem to have a weak stomach for this sort of thing. I promise, if I think of anything that would help, I’ll let you know. Please stay and finish your iced tea.”

Amy stared uncertainly after her mother, torn between a desire to go after her and the need to stay with their uninvited guest and get some answers of her own.