Secrets to the Grave

99

After the bright sunshine, the interior of the barn was so dark, it took Anne a moment to adjust her eyes.

The barn was cool and smelled of fresh hay and horses. Haley let go her hand and ran halfway down the center aisle then turned right. Anne followed. A door stood open to a feed room. A wide sliding door opened out onto a patch of shaded grass where two tiger-striped kittens were taking turns pouncing on a string of orange twine.

Haley dropped down on her knees in the grass and snatched at one end of the string. The kittens bounced into the air in surprise, dashed away, then came back in stalking mode.

Haley squealed and giggled in delight at the antics of the kittens. Anne stood in the doorway watching her, so happy to see her happy. She deserved to have some time to think nothing but little girl thoughts about kittens in the grass.

“Mommy Anne! Come and play with my kitties!”

Anne got down on the grass beside her and paid careful attention while Haley showed her what to do with the twine to make the kittens pounce on it.

“This one is Scat,” she said. “And the one with the white paws is Mittens.”

Scat bounced up on his toes with his back arched and his tail straight up in the air, then turned and dashed back into the barn. Haley ran after him, running smack into Milo Bordain’s legs.

She looked up at the tall woman whose face and hair seemed stark white against the black backdrop of the dark barn.

“Oops!” Anne said, laughing.

But Haley didn’t laugh, and Milo didn’t laugh.

Haley took a step back and then another, her eyes on Milo Bordain.

“Haley?” Anne said, puzzled by the expression on her face.

Bordain leaned over. “Haley? What’s the matter? You remember me. Auntie Milo.”

Haley’s lower lip began to tremble and tears welled in her eyes.

“B-b-b-bad,” she stammered.

“You didn’t mean to run into your auntie Milo,” Anne said. “It was an accident.”

“B-b-b-b-ad,” she said again. “Bad Daddy. Bad Daddy!”

It took a second for Anne to understand, but then the pieces snapped into place. Swallowed by the black background, with just her face standing out, Milo Bordain must have reminded her of the man who had attacked her mother. Darren Bordain was a prime suspect. He was the spitting image of his mother.

“Bad Daddy! Bad Daddy!”

Milo frowned sharply as Haley began to wail and shriek, only succeeding in making herself look more menacing.

“Haley!” she snapped. “Stop that!”

Before Anne could react, she took the girl by the upper arms and gave her a shake.

“Haley! Stop it! Stop it right now!”

Anne bolted forward and scooped Haley into her arms, ignoring the pain of her own injuries as she pulled the little girl tight against her. She wanted to knock Milo Bordain on her ass.

“Don’t frighten her more!” Anne snapped.

“She knows me, for heaven’s sake!” Bordain snapped back. “She’s being ridiculous!”

“She’s four!” Anne shot back.

Haley cried harder.

“What have you been putting in her head?”

“Nothing!”

“Cal Dixon and your husband are trying to frame my son—”

“That’s absurd! They’re trying to get to the truth—whatever it might be.”

“Darren did not kill Marissa.”

Anne walked away from her and the argument, cradling Haley’s head against her shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

Haley cried and twisted in her arms. “No!!”

“Maybe we should just go,” Anne said. She turned back toward Milo Bordain. “We should just go. This isn’t a good day for anyone. We can come back another day.”

“No!” Milo said, instantly contrite. “No, please don’t go. I’m so sorry I lost my temper. I’m just beside myself with everything that’s gone on this week.

“Don’t go. I have a picnic lunch all ready,” she said. “We’ll go down by the reservoir. Haley, don’t you want to go for a ride in the golf cart?”

Haley looked up at her. They were out of the shadows of the barn now. The apparition that had frightened her was gone, replaced by a person she had known her whole life.

“Should we go for a ride in the golf cart?” Bordain said, forcing a smile.

Still unhappy and out of sorts, the little girl put her head back down on Anne’s shoulder and murmured, “Mommy Anne ...”

The muscles in Milo Bordain’s square jaw tightened against her annoyance at Haley’s name for Anne.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Anne said. “Do you want to go for a ride and have a picnic?”

“The cart is right over here,” Bordain said, leading the way.

The golf cart, like everything else to do with Milo Bordain, was decked out elaborately, made to look like a Mercedes-Benz with the big logo on the front.

Anne got in and tried to set Haley on the middle of the front seat, but Haley crawled back into her lap and started to suck her thumb.

We should have gone, Anne thought. To hell with Milo Bordain’s feelings. Haley’s feelings were all that mattered. And yet, she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell the woman to turn the golf cart around and go back.

They drove through the field bordered by white fences and shaded by big trees. Shaggy red cattle watched them pass with only mild interest.

The reservoir—a grand name for a man-made pond the purpose of which was firefighting—shone like a blue jewel under the clear sky. Milo had sent her minions out earlier to make a picnic spot ready complete with a table and a red-and-white-checked tablecloth. A large wicker picnic basket sat on one end of the table with baguettes sticking up out of it and red and green grapes spilling over the side.

“You went to a lot of trouble,” Anne said.

“Oh, no, not at all. Nothing is too much trouble to make a nice event. All it takes is organization.”

And cheap hired help, Anne thought. She pointed at the table and leaned down to Haley. “Look, Haley, isn’t this special?”

Haley was unimpressed. She nudged a toe against the dash of the fancy golf cart and whined around the thumb in her mouth. “Mommy Anne ...”

“You really shouldn’t let her call you that,” Bordain said, irritated.

“If it makes her feel more secure,” Anne said, “there’s no harm in it.”

“You’re not her mother.”

“I know that. Haley knows that.”

“You’re not going to be either.”

Anne bit her tongue again, remembering what Vince had said at breakfast. Milo Bordain believed her son was Haley’s father. No one had told her differently.

“Haley knows her mommy is an angel in heaven. Isn’t that right, Haley?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Milo muttered half under her breath.

We should have gone home, Anne thought again. This was a mistake. Why subject Haley—and herself—to this unpleasant woman? Just to be polite? Just to keep the peace? Her tolerance for this kind of social posturing was almost nil, and yet here she was.

Now they were stuck out in a field with Milo Bordain, and Anne realized, well away from the ranch buildings. Well away from the deputy who had brought them out here. A vague sense of unease stirred inside.

We should have gone home ...