Deadly Secrets Read online

  Chapter 7

  I woke early on Saturday morning, or maybe I should say that I ended a bad night’s sleep by getting up before the sun. I knew it was a bad idea to walk through the empty rooms last night after Sam went to bed. With the demolition scheduled to start in a few hours, I had spent the better part of the last two days packing up bedrooms and emptying bathrooms. Sam thought it was an adventure, but he had not been the one to pack what must have been close to seventy-five boxes and lug them to storage. I wished I could say that it was my sore and achy muscles that had kept me tossing and turning all night, but that would be a lie. I tried not to lie to others or to myself too often.

  I made my way silently from the downstairs guest quarters to the kitchen to put on a pot of much needed coffee. Sam was a heavy sleeper, but I did not want to wake him this morning. I didn’t want him to see me so upset with red rimmed bloodshot eyes. I needed to get control of myself and the feelings that stormed inside of me. Last night, I had walked the halls of this old house seeing it as it was now for the last time. I was about to change the past and begin to make a new future. The ghosts that lived in this place did not care for the change that was coming, or perhaps the ghost were only memories in my heart that did not care to be eradicated.

  As I stood on the stairs last night, I was assaulted by an air of such thick dread and oppression that I had to sit down. Wave after wave of those emotions crashed over me. I sat stunned looking down into the living room. Though I remembered my grandmother as a loving and kind woman, the only thing that stood on the stairs with me last night had been death, her death at the hands of a killer who had never been found, a killer that still roamed the streets free to harm another. I had always been somewhat afraid that whoever had killed her would return one day to this house to kill again; last night that fear had no longer seemed irrational, or maybe it was simply that for that space in time, I was as irrational as my fear.

  From my perch on the stairs, I could see the door to the guest room and the light that peaked out from under the doorway. Sam slept safely inside that room with a gentle beacon of light to watch over him. As long as Sam was safe and happy, I could deal with anything, but that room had not always been a safe and happy place. No, I remembered a time when that room was well acquainted with death. That Sam now slept alone in that very room caused a shiver to run down my spine, but I forced myself to remember the safety of the light.

  Not long ago in the great scheme of things, Flynn tried to kill himself in that very room. It was with great trepidation that I allowed Sam to talk me into moving us into that room during the renovations. Sam was not yet born when Flynn lived in that room as he battled prostate cancer. Sam would not have existed if Flynn had not lived in that room with death drawing ever nearer as the months dragged into years. And finally when the battle was won, Flynn tried to end the life that we had all battled so hard to save. He did not succeed, and out of that survival came Sam; thank you, God, for the mercy of that miracle.

  The coffee had brewed, and I poured a cup as I sat down at the kitchen table. I sipped the hot bitter brew. I opted to drink it black this morning. I needed the heat and the caffeine to get me going strong. I just needed a few minutes to let my mind settle down and my heart to steady its beat; then I could dress and get ready for my demo crew. I sighed; it was going to be a long day but a good one.

  A few hours later with many cups of coffee sloshing around in my stomach, my wrecking crew, and I were ready to get down to the business of making trash. The dumpster had been dropped off as promised by the city the previous afternoon. It was large and green and screamed to be filled up with the demolished bathroom remains that were about to be ripped from their moorings.

  My mother, bless her heart, was not participating in demo; she was here as a baby sitter and food provider. I really didn’t expect the demo in the two bathrooms to take more than a couple of hours which would put us finishing up right about lunchtime. On the scheduled wrecking crew with me were, Dana Glower, a friend and my former private investigator; my father and Marcus. My thought was to put my dad, Garth, and Marcus in one bathroom, and Dana and I would work in the other. We should be able to get the job done ASAP due to some healthy competition. So I sent the men to what was currently Sam’s bathroom, and Dana and I took our hammers to the master bath.

  The first order of business was to turn off the water to all the fixtures and drain the lines. Once that was accomplished, we unhooked the claw foot tub from its piping so it would be ready for pickup on Monday. Then, we removed the easy items. First, we demolished the existing closet space which involved removing the doors and the old single solid silver bar that was currently in residence there. A quick trip to the dumpster, and we were back.

  Dana looked at me with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Okay, Miranda, when do we get to bust something up?”

  I laughed. It was so in character with Dana’s tough PI image that I could not do anything else. “Just give it another few minutes. We need to get the toilet out and cover the sewer drain; then you can let that hammer fly.”

  “Promises, Promises. Let’s get it done.”

  In short order we had taken out the toilet, and Dana with surprising speed and ferocity had managed to clean out the vanity, cabinetry, and sink that remained in the room. In less than an hour, the room was clear except for the flooring and the claw foot tub.

  “Well, boss, what else?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “No idea. We really just need to clean up I guess. We are not taking up the floor since it is the original wood, and everything looks like it is in good shape. I’ll let Mike Keegan give me an estimate on that too when he comes for the walk through on Wednesday.”

  Dana waggled her eyebrows at me. “So tell me about this Mike. Is he cute?”

  I waggled my brows right back at her. “Honey, cute does not begin to describe that man. Try drop dead gorgeous.”

  “Ohmmmmm, is he single?”

  I smiled knowingly. “Well, he wasn’t wearing a ring, and his mother seemed interested in paring him off, so I’m thinking he is single. Are you fishing for a date?”

  Dana frowned. “My love life sucks a big one, lady, but I was thinking this was a great chance for you. Smart, good looking, can build things. He sounds like a winner to me.”

  I chuckled, “Well, then you go after him, Dana. I am not interested in dating Mike Keegan or anyone one else right now.” My conscience niggled at me. I was not lying exactly. I did not want to date Mike Keegan or most of the other candidates who might present themselves, but there was one man with unforgettable grey eyes whom I might welcome into my life.

  “Miranda, you have to move on at some point. I know how much you suffered in your marriage to Flynn, but you can’t stay single forever; both you and Sam deserve more than that.”

  “I’m not arguing with you about that, Dana, but I’m not settling this time for any man but the right one for me and for Sam.”

  Dana huffed. “Well, how do you plan to meet this man if you never go out on a date with anyone?”

  I weighed my options. I decided the truth was the best option in this case. “Dana, the truth is that I met someone who I think is the right man some time ago, but the timing wasn’t right. Now, I’m just giving myself some time to see if perhaps he will come back into my life.”

  Dana stared at me like I had grown a second head. “Who is he? Why am I just hearing about this now? How long ago did this happen?”

  “Well, he came into my life the first time about ten years ago, and he has popped up every few years since that night.”

  Dana planted her hands on her hips. This was not a good sign for me. “Okay, Miranda, just what do you mean by that! Give me a name and some answers here!”

  I rolled my eyes, “Are you really going to press me about this, Dana?”

  Her answer was a hard stare. “Hell, yes, I am going to bug you about this. This is important. I want to know details
. I can’t believe you’ve never told me any of this before,” she wailed in frustration. “Does anyone else know?”

  I shook my head. She looked disbelieving, “Not even Missy?”

  I sighed, “No, not even Missy knows about this. I didn’t think she would understand, but you might since you know all of my shameful secrets already.”

  Dana came over and gave me a one armed hug, “Oh, honey, the shame at the end of your marriage was not yours; it was all Flynn’s. He was the one using you and Sam. He was the one cheating on you. He was the one cheating on you in your own home,” she declared vehemently.

  “I know all that Dana, but it’s still embarrassing to me. Sometimes I feel that maybe I just wasn’t enough for him.”

  Dana cut me off, “Don’t go there, Miranda. You know that is not the case. You saved that man’s life. You nursed him back from death twice, you gave him your love, and you gave him a child. If he was unhappy, it was on him, not you. You were Florence Freaking Nightingale!”

  I chuckled, “Thanks, Dana. It’s good to know that you’ll always have my back. How about we get back to the work and then get some food?”

  Dana waggled her brows at me, “As good as that sounds, we can’t get back to work till you spill the beans about this mystery man.”

  I grunted, “Fine. I met the man on the night that my grandmother was killed. He was the policeman who came to my house to give me the bad news.”

  Dana was confused, “So you kept seeing him after that night?”

  “No, but he left an impression on me. He was so solid, dependable, kind, and okay I will admit it, handsome. It was several years later before I saw him again, but I thought of him from time to time.”

  Dana tapped her foot impatiently, “Ok, when did you see him again?”

  I laughed, “I only ever see Heath Brandon during the worst moments of my life. Maybe that is why he has been able to make such an impression on me. I see him and the world calms down; I know everything will be all right after all.”

  Dana tapped her foot again, “And?”

  I held up a hand in defense, “Okay. I saw him again at the hospital the night that Flynn tried to commit suicide. He was the detective who came to question me, but instead he was my rock. My burdens lifted just to have him sit with me. I can’t explain it; he just gave me hope for a better future.”

  Dana raised her brow, “A better future with him?”

  I shrugged, “I don’t know, Dana. We have never gotten the chance to explore what could be, but I think there could be so much more than I ever dreamed possible with him.” I stopped and looked at her, “Have you ever felt that way about a man?”

  She got a deer in the headlights look but answered anyway, “Yes, but it’s hard to care for a man who may not care for you.”

  “I agree, but I am not going to settle for anything other than the right one, and I am afraid that Heath Brandon might well be that man.” I shrugged again, “Time will tell.”

  Dana looked as if she might fall over, so I reached out a hand to steady her. “Breathe, Dana. Besides this is a good thing for both of us; now you can stop trying to set me up with any man who happens to be single.”

  Dana managed to nod and shake off her incredulity. “Okay, sure, right. Umm, well, let’s finish cleaning and then go check on the men. They should be done soon too, and you know what that means.”

  “No, what?”

  Dana smacked her hand on her forehead. “Duh! It means eating your mom’s famous shrimp salad while your dad and Marcus grill some wonderful steaks. My stomach can hardly wait!”

  We laughed and made short work of the cleaning. We peeked in down the hall on dad and Marcus, and surely enough they were finishing up too. The room was as empty as the master, save once again for the claw foot tub that was waiting for pick up. I could see that they too had disconnected the tub for easy removal on Monday. “Well done, troops.” I waved my hand to indicate myself and Dana. “We’re headed down to see if we can help mom in the kitchen. Do you want us to go ahead and fire up the BBQ?”

  Marcus looked as if I had mortally wounded him, “Ouch, of course not, Miranda, girl! That’s man’s work, plus we need that time while the coals burn down for male bonding.”

  Dana gave the men a lopsided grin. “You mean beer drinking and bullshitting time.”

  My father chuckled.”You nailed it on the head, Dana, but don’t tell anyone. It’s our secret.”

  We left them laughing about some private male joke and went in search of mom and Sam.

  Sam’s voice led us straight into the kitchen, where Dana made a bee line for my mom’s famous shrimp salad served on toast points. My mom saw her intention and laughed. “Dana, there is no need to hurry, honey; there’s more than enough even with this crew.”

  Dana looked at my mom, “Well, Gail, it’s just cruel to keep me waiting. I, unlike the rest of you, have only gotten to have this wonderful stuff once before. Now I’m a junkie. I need my fix,” she wailed in comedic plea. Was it any wonder we were friends since we shared the same sense of humor?

  Mom could not resist her either, “Honestly, dear, go ahead. I would hate to stand between you and your fix. I might get mowed down.”

  Dana trotted over and gave my mom a one armed hug. “Nawh, Mrs. Gail, I would never mow you down. I like you too much, and besides if I crippled you, then you would never make me any more of this stuff.”

  That got us all laughing. I walked over to Sam to see what he was up to. “Hey, Sammy. What have you been up to?”

  Sam gave me one of his big smiles, “Grandma Gail has got me helping out in the kitchen. She said everyone needs to know his way around the kitchen.”

  I looked at my mother. God Bless her. “She is so right, Sam. All of us need to know how to take care of ourselves and those we love, and besides that goes double for anyone who loves to eat as much as you and I, right?”

  “Right, mom!”

  Dana glanced a little nervously at the toast point in her hand. “So, Sammy Sosa, what exactly have you been helping out with?”

  Sam, even at the young age of five, was wise beyond his years. He waggled his eyebrows at her; again the family trait raised its head. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Dana gave him a saucy look that had brought grown men to their knees in fear and popped the toast in her mouth. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she savored the taste that was beyond magnificent.

  I looked back at Sam, “So what have you been doing?”

  This time he turned those baby blue eyes on me and gave me a lopsided grin, “Just making the lemonade and the tea. Grandma let me juice some real lemons, and you’ll have to guess what else is in there because we used a special secret ingredient.”

  My mom was famous within our family circle for her secret ingredients. So far we had yet to discover any of them conclusively though there was some speculation on a few of them. “Is it finished then?”

  “Yup, sure is, and it’s in the fridge in the big plastic pitcher.”

  Of course, I went to get a glass. “Hey, Miranda, can you pour me a glass too?” asked Dana.

  “Sure thing. Mom, do you want one?”

  “That would be wonderful, dear; be sure to put a lot of ice in it because it’s only been chilling for about 15 minutes.”

  “Okay, Mom. Sam do you want some?”

  He grinned at me again. “No, thanks; I already had some.”

  I reached up and pulled down three tall painted daiquiri glasses to use for our lemonade. After all, it was a festive day, and we were celebrating family and friendship. I grabbed ice out of the freezer and then filled the glasses with lemonade. It smelled like summer sunshine to me. I passed out the glasses and then leaned against the bar while I sipped and watched the people gathered there.

  I heard dad and Marcus coming down the stairs. It seemed that they had finished whatever they were doing and were ready to get grilling. My mouth watered as I thought about eating one of their pe
rfectly cooked rib-eye steaks. I could tell from Dana’s face that she was having similar thoughts.

  Dad was the first to enter the room and made a bee line for my mother. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and then reached around her for a toast point with shrimp salad and immediately popped it in his mouth. “Ummmm, Gail. That is as good as ever. Maybe even better after all that hard work Miranda forced me into.”

  I swatted his arm good naturedly, “Whatever, Dad. If you were working so hard, how was it that Dana and I managed to finish before you when we barely broke a good sweat ourselves?”

  My dad waggled his brows; of course, he did. We all do. “Because, dear, the answer to that is obvious, you and Dana are young and you’ve got spunk. Marcus and I are too old for that much excitement.”

  I heard a snort from behind me. Marcus looked a bit strained. “Speak for yourself, old man, but I’ve still got a few good years in me yet.”

  The banter could go on all day, and it probably would, but my mom ushered the men including Sam outside to get the grill going. I snickered to myself; she must be just as hungry for it as Dana and I, but she was much too proper to let it show the way we did.

  With them out the door, the women took over. “Gail, what should I be doing?” Dana asked knowingly. Dana’s cooking skills were very limited, but we were working on her.

  My mom chuckled, “Dana, why don’t you take a tray out to the men. Go ahead and plate up some of the shrimp salad toasts, and add a couple of beers for the men. Miranda, what do you want to send out for Sam to drink? You know he’ll want to feel like his Grandpa.”

  I rolled my eyes; Sam had been mimicking his Grandpa since he was old enough to walk and talk. I loved it, and so did my dad. “Just grab him a Coke out of the fridge, Dana. I have some in the green glass bottles; that way he can be one of the guys today.”

  When Dana walked out with the tray, I moved closer to my mother. “Mom, I think something is up with Dana.”

  My mom turned to look at me, “Why do you say that, dear?”

  “Well, it was just the way that she was talking while we worked this morning. She wants to set me up and have me dating, but she doesn’t want to date herself.”

  I could tell that my mom was thinking. “Maybe she’s just concerned about you. Could be she knows that she’s in a good place, so dating is not a big deal to her right now?”

  “I considered that, but I confided something to her about why I wasn’t willing to date right now, and she was bowled over and dropped the subject about setting me up right away. Yet, I still get the feeling that something is going on with her.”

  My mom sighed, “Sometimes as hard as it is, baby, you just have to sit back and wait. Dana might not want to talk about whatever is bothering her right now, but the time will come when she does. You just have to be there for her when she needs you.”

  “I know, mom, but that’s so hard to do.”

  My mom smiled. “I know, dear. I’ve had plenty of experience with the waiting game, but that’s love and friendship. No one ever said it was easy, especially not when it’s most important.”

  “Mom, how did you get to be so wise?”

  “Lots of tears and lots of years, Jellybean. Let’s finish up in here and go out and join the party.”