Daughter of Ashes

TEN

‘The full truth of this odd matter is what the world has long been looking for, and public curiosity is sure to welcome.’

Robert Louis Stevenson, The Master of Ballantrae, 1889

Our Song seemed to be in a state of perpetual makeover; we were living through a real-life episode of HGTV. One day it was Love It, Or List It. The next, House Crashers or Flip or Flop. I expected Jonathan and Drew, the Property Brothers, to pop out of the woodwork at any moment with another problem that required our urgent attention, and that of our checkbook.

Using sledge hammers, the wall between the kitchen and the living room had come down in a loud and spectacularly pleasing way, opening up the downstairs to space and light. Dwight Heberling assigned his son to clean up the debris in preparation for the new framing while he took a pair of workers up on the roof and got them going on a more careful demolition of the chimney.

Just when I thought we had everything under control, the water pump stopped working. Dwight pulled the pump out of the well, swore, pointed out a jumper wire some idiot had installed across one set of contacts at the pressure switch, and pronounced the pump D.O.A. A new pump was ordered, but while we waited for it to be delivered via Fedex overnight, we had no water to drink, do the dishes with or flush the toilets. Dwight and his workers improvised, drawing fresh water out of the creek to mix the mortar and clean their tools. Meanwhile, Paul fetched a bucket of water, set it next to the downstairs toilet and we followed island rules: If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.

That’s why I found myself at the Acme supermarket early that morning pushing a grocery cart full of bottled water through the checkout line. I’d heaved the last plastic jug onto the conveyor belt when somebody called my name. Caitlyn Dymond was pushing a similar cart loaded with boxes of juice, granola bars and fruit rollups. She steered the cart into line behind me. ‘Kids in day camp,’ she explained, plopping a super-sized box of goldfish crackers on the conveyor belt just behind the plastic bar that separated her groceries from my water jugs.

‘Been there, done that, Caitlyn, and I remember it well.’ I eyed the piles of snack foods in her basket and asked, ‘Just how many kids do you have?’

‘Three. Two boys and a girl, but the boys are going through a growth spurt right now. They’re eating me out of house and home. Speaking of houses,’ she continued, dumping a twelve-pack of potato chips in assorted flavors on the belt. ‘Any news on Baby Ella?’

I shook my head. ‘Sheriff Hubbard said it might be a while.’

Caitlyn’s face fell. ‘Oh. I thought maybe by now…’

‘Sorry, no.’

‘Has the investigation held up the renovations on your house?’ she continued.

I shook my head. ‘Not really. The sheriff sent a crime-scene technician to have another look at the smoke shelf in case any clues to the child’s identity had been left behind but they didn’t find anything, so Dwight’s crew has been able to move forward.

‘They’ve finished knocking down the wall between the kitchen and living-room areas,’ I told her as I swiped my credit card through the checkout machine and signed the tiny screen as the automated voice instructed. ‘You wouldn’t believe how much bigger the place looks. Dwight tells me he plans to finish with the fireplace tomorrow. Sadly, the whole thing needs to come down, but he thinks he can save some of the interior brick and use it when he rebuilds.’

While I bagged my purchases and transferred the water jugs from the conveyor belt back into my cart, Caitlyn finished checking out. ‘Before I forget! Don’t plan anything for the fifth of July.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s the annual Barfield and Williams picnic. Kendall throws one every year for the agency’s clients and other local big wigs. I just mailed the invitations today.’

I frowned. ‘I think I have to pedicure the cat.’

Caitlyn chuckled at my lame attempt at humor. ‘Oh, you’ll definitely want to cancel that. Every mover and shaker in the county will be there, Hannah. Food, music, fireworks. It’s actually quite fun.’

‘Fran Lawson mentioned something about a picnic the other day while we were mucking about in the courthouse basement,’ I said, softening my tone. We parked our carts near the customer service desk while I told Caitlyn about the discovery in the courthouse storage room and what our plans were for the records. ‘You have to attend the picnic, I suppose, since you work with Kendall and all,’ I continued, ‘but I certainly don’t have to go. I’m not sure I could stand to look at the woman after the way she screwed us over.’

‘Don’t come for her, Hannah, come for me. It’ll look bad for me if my clients don’t show. Besides, there’ll be door prizes.’

‘I’m not sure it’s worth it to give up a whole day on the off chance of winning a travel alarm.’

Caitlyn laughed. ‘Prepare yourself for a surprise, then. Last year, Kendall gave everyone at the party a flat-screen TV.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ I stared at the agent for a moment, dumbfounded. ‘So that’s where all her commission money goes?’

‘You’d think, but no. Kendall was rolling in dough even before she started selling real estate. You know MB and T?’

‘The bank?’

Caitlyn nodded. ‘I always thought the “B” stood for “bank,” but no. It stands for Barfield, Kendall’s grandfather.’

I whistled.

Caitlyn grinned. ‘Exactly. After granddad sold to Bank of America in the mid-eighties, he bought into real estate big-time and rode the housing bubble into the stratosphere.’

‘Dwight Heberling married well, then?’

‘You know about that, huh?’

‘Dwight mentioned it,’ I said. ‘I wonder what happened?’

Caitlyn puffed air out through her lips. ‘Poor Dwight. I think they were married for about two and a half minutes. Kendall was on the rebound after Dan Frye dumped her. He was captain of the football team. Dwight followed Kendall around like a lost puppy all through high school. Nearly passed out when she asked him to take her to the senior prom. The rest is…’ She paused. ‘Well, not exactly history, but Dwight junior ensued. Kendall stuck it out for a few years, then dumped both her husband and the baby so she could go off to college. Dwight was granted full custody, so Kendall spent a good bit of time gallivanting until Daddy had a heart attack and called his little girl home. She’s been running the family business ever since.’

‘Did Kendall ever remarry?’

‘Just a series of affairs,’ Caitlyn sniffed.

‘How about Dwight?’ I asked as we pushed our carts through the automatic doors, out of the air conditioning and into the warm summer sun.

‘He did. Almost immediately. To a girl as sweet as her name: Grace.’

‘I don’t think I’ve met her.’

‘Unless you’ve visited the local humane society, probably not. She volunteers there on spay and neuter days, otherwise…’ Caitlyn shrugged. ‘Grace was a stay-at-home mom. Dwight couldn’t have done better choosing a stepmom for his son. Grace loves that boy like he’s her own, but then she’s been raising him since he was a toddler.’

‘I don’t suppose the Heberlings will be at the party?’

‘Should be. Kendall bends over backwards to show everyone what super-duper friends she is with wife number two. Grace is too much of a lady to say anything against Kendall, but I know it drives her bonkers whenever Kendall calls the house on the pretense of asking for a recipe or something. Early on in the marriage, Kendall would telephone and ask to speak with Dwight. “Oh, Dwight,”’ Caitlyn simpered in imitation of Kendall. ‘“My hot water heater’s on the fritz. Could you pop over for a moment and have a look at it, pleeeeze?” She ruined Grace’s birthday party one year by calling Dwight repeatedly, claiming she had a stalker. Grace finally put her foot down,’ Caitlyn chuckled. ‘Poor Kendall has to hire her own handymen now.’

I looked both ways and eased my shopping cart into the crosswalk. Caitlyn followed close behind. When we reached my car I popped the trunk and said, ‘What does one wear to this shindig? My party clothes are still back in my closet in Annapolis.’

‘You’ve got two weeks to get it together,’ Caitlyn grinned. ‘Slacks with a colorful top would be good. Me? I’m wearing a sundress.’

I closed the trunk over the last jug of bottled water, turned to Caitlyn and said, ‘Well, you’ve convinced me that my mythical cat can wait. Food, fun, fireworks. Sign us up.’

‘And if we’re lucky,’ Caitlyn said with a cheerful wave, ‘all the fireworks might not be confined to the sky.’