Secrets to the Grave

63

“I love a school holiday,” Franny said, pouring the coffee. He made himself at home wherever he was, particularly in Anne’s kitchen. “Thanksgiving, Christmas, Sixth Graders Putting Cherry Bombs Down the Toilets Day.”

The resulting plumbing catastrophe had given the children and teachers of Oak Knoll Elementary an unexpected long weekend.

“I’m glad for the company of another adult,” Anne said. “The mind of a four-year-old can be exhausting to keep up with.”

“They haven’t been dumbed down by society yet at that age,” Franny said, doctoring the coffee with cream and cinnamon. “Everything is possible.”

They went into the family room with its big bank of windows looking out on the backyard. The rain was still coming down. Haley and Wendy were busy with dolls at one end of the room. Franny and Anne each took a big stuffed leather chair near the windows.

“Haley asked me if I would be her mommy until her mommy is done being an angel,” Anne said.

“Oh!” Franny’s eyes filled with tears. “That should be in a children’s book!”

“A children’s book about death?”

“They take it better than we do. What did you tell her?”

“Yes, of course. I’d keep her forever,” Anne admitted wistfully.

“Maybe you will.”

“I can’t think that way. I’m sure she has relatives somewhere. Everyone does, right?”

“That doesn’t mean she should go and live with them,” Franny said. “What if her relatives are toothless rednecks living in travel trailers in one of those fried food states in the middle of the country? Oh! What if they’re carnie people?” he asked, getting carried away with himself, as usual. “Next thing you know Haley’s in a sideshow as the Bearded Baby.”

Anne chuckled, appreciating the distraction that was her friend.

“This is a nice way to spend a rainy afternoon,” she said. “Good company, a hot drink, watching kids play.”

Franny smiled at her until his eyes disappeared.

“What?”

“You’re going to be such a good mom!” he said.

“If Vince and I ever get to sleep together again,” Anne said dryly.

“You’ve been staying with Haley?”

Anne nodded. “She’s having some pretty scary nightmares.”

“You know all about that. Has she named the k-i-l-l-e-r yet?”

“No. She calls him Bad Daddy. She says he was dressed all in black. Vince is going to bring home some kind of photo lineup of men who knew her mother. Maybe she’ll pick one out. But there’s always a chance the killer wore a mask.”

“Don’t you think he tried to k-i-l-l Haley because she could identify him? Why else?”

“Maybe he’s just plain evil,” Anne said. “How about that?”

“Mommy Anne!” Haley called as she came running from the other end of the room. “Look at my dolly Wendy gave me!”

“That’s a really special doll, isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna call her Kitty,” Haley announced, “because I want a kitty.”

“Okay! That’s a good name!”

Anne rolled her eyes at Franny as Haley scampered away. “We’re lobbying heavily for a kitty.”

“She couldn’t be cuter if she was my child,” Franny said.

The front doorbell rang and Anne jumped like she’d been given an electric shock. She could almost feel the blood drain from her face. This was part of her post-crime sentence, to panic at the sound of the doorbell when she wasn’t expecting anyone.

Franny frowned. “I’ll see who it is.”

Anne followed him at a distance to the front of the house, trying to calm herself, to tell herself there was no reason to panic. Peter Crane was sitting in jail. He wouldn’t be on the other side of her door ready to attack her.

No. It wasn’t Peter Crane at the door, but a whole other kind of threat Anne realized as she heard Franny say, “Maureen Upchurch. How’s your nephew? Has he been incarcerated yet?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Unlike some people, I have friends,” Franny said.

Anne moved around him to see Maureen Upchurch and Milo Bordain on her front step.

Because of her aversion to surprise guests and because of Vince’s background with the FBI, she and Vince had taken great pains to keep their address private. But of course Maureen would have access to her address because of Haley. And here she was, looking as put out as always.

“This is a surprise,” Anne said. “What can I do for you ladies?”

“And she uses the term loosely,” Franny whispered behind her. Anne stepped back on his foot.

“It’s just a formality,” Maureen said, “but I insisted to Judge Espinoza that I make the obligatory home visit so my office can retain some kind of record of this situation.”

“A phone call would have been nice,” Anne said.

“The visits are drop-ins for a reason,” Upchurch countered.

“Oh my God!” Franny exclaimed, slapping his cheeks. “I’ll go hide the sex toys!”

Milo Bordain, impeccably turned out in a Burberry plaid raincoat, turned to Maureen Upchurch. “Who is that person?”

Franny stepped around Anne and offered his hand. She didn’t take it. “Francis Goodsell, three-time California Teacher of the Year in the kindergarten division. Love the scarf. Hermès?”

Milo Bordain touched a gloved hand to the scarf wound around the throat of her camel cashmere turtleneck as if she were afraid he might try to strip it from her.

Anne focused on the Child Protective Services supervisor. “And did you tell Judge Espinoza you’d be dropping by unannounced with a third party in tow? Because if you’re such a stickler for the rules, Maureen, I’m pretty sure tagalongs aren’t in the book.”

“That’s my fault,” Bordain said. “Maureen knows how badly I want to see Haley. She was kind enough to invite me along. I hope you don’t mind, Anne.”

“I do mind,” Anne said bluntly.

“But Haley is like a granddaughter to me,” Bordain went on, tearing up. “I’ve lost her mother—”

“Yes, I know,” Anne said, “and I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Bordain. Really, I’m not trying to be difficult. But as Haley’s guardian I’m trying to maintain a certain amount of structure for her. Having people just show up can be overstimulating to a small child, especially to a child who’s already had a sudden traumatic upheaval in her life.”

“But Haley knows me,” Bordain argued, the tears threatening to spill over. “I’ve been worried sick about her! Thinking about how frightened she must have been, wondering what kind of terrible memories must be plaguing her. I would have tried to arrange something with you myself, but I didn’t have any way of contacting you. And I brought her a little gift,” she said, holding up a shoebox-size package wrapped in rainbow paper with a big pink bow.

Anne held fast for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. She saw Milo Bordain as a threat to her custody of Haley, but it was probably smarter to have the woman for a friend than an enemy. And she did know what loss was. Anne knew what a hole her mother’s death had left inside her. Milo Bordain was suffering the loss of a surrogate daughter. That loss was clearly taking a toll on her. Even the most expensive makeup couldn’t conceal the dark circles under her eyes or the deepening lines on her forehead and around her mouth.

Finally she sighed. “Let me go tell Haley you’re here so she isn’t taken by surprise.”

She walked toward the back of the house with Franny right beside her.

“I’m going to the kitchen,” he whispered. “To make a crucifix out of garlic to ward them off.”

Anne went into the family room.

“Haley, sweetheart,” she said, sitting on the ottoman next to the couch where Haley was busy tucking her new doll in bed. “Someone is here to see you.”

Haley’s eyes got big. “Is it my mommy?”

“No, sweetie. It’s Mrs. Bordain. Do you remember her?”

Haley scowled and shook her head.

“Maybe you called her something else. Wendy, did you ever meet Mrs. Bordain at Marissa’s house?”

Wendy, now engrossed in a Brady Bunch rerun on television, shook her head.

“Haley! It’s Auntie Milo!”

Bordain and Maureen Upchurch had invited themselves inside. They came into the family room, a formidable duo—Bordain as tall as a man, Upchurch as big as a house in a black tent for a raincoat.

Haley, already overtired from playing with Wendy, immediately started to cry. Bad Daddy was big and came in black clothes.

Anne picked her up and turned so Haley couldn’t see them.

“Maureen, please take your coat off. The black coat is scaring her.”

“My coat? Why would that scare her?”

Anne glared at her. “Take off the coat.”

Understanding dawned on Milo Bordain’s face.

“The attacker must have worn a black coat,” she said, then snapped at Upchurch. “Take your coat off, Maureen.”

Anne ignored them both, trying to quiet Haley.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Your auntie Milo missed you so much she had to come see you, and she brought you a present.”

The flow of tears stopped, one big one dangling on the edge of her eyelashes. She took a shuddering breath and looked at Milo Bordain.

“Hi, Haley!” Bordain made her voice higher and softer. “How are you?”

“My mommy is an angel now,” Haley said.

“I know, darling. We miss her, don’t we?”

Haley nodded, thumb zeroing in on mouth. She rested her head on Anne’s shoulder.

“She tires easily,” Anne explained. “Have a seat.”

She settled herself on the sofa with Haley on her lap as Milo Bordain chose the ottoman. Anne gave her a point for that—sitting as close as possible instead of choosing a chair six feet away. Upchurch was busy checking the tables for dust and looking with envy at the quality of the furniture.

“Haley,” Bordain said, leaning forward with the gift. “I brought you something special for you to have here at Anne’s house.”

Haley took the present and tugged on the bow.

“We’ll keep that for you to wear in your hair,” Anne said, setting the ribbon aside.

Her bout of tears forgotten, Haley had moved on to the box, dispensing with the rainbow paper in short order.

“It’s a kitty!” she exclaimed, pulling the stuffed toy out of the tissue paper.

“I thought you were probably missing your kitties at your house,” Bordain said. “This is a kitty you can take anywhere.”

Anne felt her heart soften a little more toward Milo Bordain. She had actually put some thought into the gift and had clearly paid attention to Haley’s obsession with cats and kittens.

“What do you say, Haley?” Anne prompted.

“Thank you, Daddy Milo!”

“Auntie Milo,” Anne corrected her.

“It’s all right,” Bordain said. “Haley tells me I should be a boy because I have a boy’s name.”

Haley was through with the adults, off the couch and taking her new treasure to show her friend. “Wendy, look at my kitty! I got a kitty, but it’s not a real one. It just looks like one.”

“That’s cool, Haley!” Wendy said. “Let’s put her with your dolls. What are you going to name her?”

“Scaredy Cat.”

“Scaredy Cat?”

“She’s obsessed with the idea of the daddy,” Anne said.

“That’s Marissa’s fault,” Milo Bordain said with a hint of bitterness. “I told her time and again she should get married and give Haley a father, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Did she bring boyfriends home?” Anne asked.

“Not in any way that was improper. Marissa was a very conscientious mother. But she had a lot of male friends. I always thought it was confusing for Haley. She calls every man in her life Daddy.”

“She has friends with conventional families, a mommy and a daddy,” Anne said. “It’s normal for her to want that too.”

“How is she coping?” Bordain asked. “I’ve been so worried about her.”

“It’s a roller coaster. Children Haley’s age think death is temporary, and they haven’t developed psychologically to a place where they have the tools to think through a grieving process like adults do—and it’s difficult for us. We can only imagine how confusing those feelings are to a child.

“So one minute Haley might be upset that her mother is gone, and the next minute she’s engrossed in a cartoon or talking about becoming a fairy princess. As she grows up and begins to comprehend more, she’ll likely go through different stages of grief at different ages. It’s a long process.”

“And has she said anything about what happened or who attacked them?” Maureen Upchurch asked, planting herself in Vince’s Man Chair.

“She’s having nightmares about a figure all in black,” Anne said. “Bad Daddy. No name. She may never say a name. Her subconscious mind may never let her.”

“Poor little thing,” Bordain said, distressed. “Her whole life has been turned upside down!”

Haley came back with her new toy tucked under her arm. “Where are my real kitties?”

“I had Hernando bring the mother cat and kittens to my house so we can feed them and take care of them,” Bordain said. “They’re living in the barn with the horses and the chickens. You should come visit them sometime soon.”

Haley lit up and turned to Anne. “Can we, Mommy Anne? Can we, please?”

Anne felt sucker punched, and there was nothing she could do but sit here and take it on the chin. Consciously or unconsciously, Milo Bordain had set her up.

“Mommy Anne?” Bordain arched a brow.

“That’s what Haley likes to call me,” Anne explained. “It gives her a little sense of security.”

“That seems completely inappropriate,” Maureen Upchurch said.

“She’s four,” Anne returned. “Let her have that if she wants it.”

Haley, impatient with the grown-ups, hopped up and down. “Can we, please, please, please?”

“I would love it if you would bring Haley out to see them!” Milo Bordain said, recovering from her instant reaction of disapproval. “Haley would so enjoy that. She loves all the animals. Don’t you, sweetheart? We have cattle and horses and sheep and goats and chickens.

“You should bring her,” she said to Anne. “I’ll have Hernando and Maria set up a picnic for us by the reservoir.”

Before Anne could draw breath for an excuse, Haley was right there with the big eyes and hopeful little cherub face.

“Mommy Anne! Can we go? Can we go, pleeeeeeeeeze?”

“We’ll see,” Anne said.

“Uh-oh,” Haley said, looking at her auntie Milo. “That means no.”

“It means we’ll wait and see,” Anne said.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t bring her,” Bordain said, getting irritated.

Franny saved her from the awkward moment, emerging from the kitchen with a tray laden with drinks and cookies, calling, “Tea time for all the kitties! I mean kiddies!”

Anne took the two women on a tour of the house to satisfy Maureen Upchurch’s jealous curiosity, then herded them out the front door with an excuse about nap time and a promise to call Milo Bordain about the possible trip to the ranch.

When she came back into the family room, the girls were tucked side by side on the couch watching a purple dinosaur on television, Haley with her thumb in her mouth and her eyelids at half-mast. Anne dropped down in her leather chair by the window and looked at Franny.

“I didn’t see that coming,” she said. “I should have, but I didn’t.”

“You’re a parent now. You’re officially sleep deprived.”

“How can I compete with a ranch?”

“You can’t, but you’ve got it all over that one in the warm fuzzy love department. The only thing fuzzy about that old tranny cow is her whisker stubble.”

Anne laughed wearily at the terrible remark. “She’s a what?”

Franny rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, Anne Marie. You ruin all my best lines by being tragically un-hip. T-r-a-n-n-y as in t-r-a-n-s-v-e-s-t-i-t-e! If she doesn’t have a set of balls under that skirt, she’s hiding them somewhere.”

“You are just awful.”

“Honestly!” He laughed. “How she hatched that gorgeous son of hers is beyond me.”

“Who’s her son?”

“Darren ‘You deserve a Mercedes’ Bordain! Don’t you watch television? He does all the ads. He’s gorgeous! And so well-dressed.”

“He sounds like the man for you.”

“Of course he’s totally in the closet. He’s so deep in the closet even last year’s fashion can’t see him in there.”

“That could mean he’s straight,” Anne argued.

“You want to spoil all my fantasies.”

“You think every good-looking man is secretly gay.”

“I don’t think Vince is gay.”

“Thank God,” Anne said. She breathed a big sigh. “Oh, Franny ... Please tell me it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“Darling, it’s always five o’clock somewhere,” he said, producing a glass of red wine from behind the lamp on the end table.

Anne took a sip, savored it, swallowed, and sighed. “I love you, Franny.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said. “Everyone does.”