A Skeleton in the Closet (Kate Lawrence Mysteries) (23 page)

“I know this one.”

“Really?
Is he another one of your nephews?” Hartford County was studded with what seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of
Strutter’s
Jamaican relatives. Most were the sons and daughters of her equally stunning sisters, who had migrated to the States from the island around the same time she had.

“I wish,” was her sorrowful comment now. “Can you stand to hear about one more drama? If it’s any consolation,” she grinned briefly, “this one’s a beauty.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”I assured her, but privately, I was filled with misgivings. I was up to here in unsolved mysteries, and it was still only June. At this rate, it promised to be a summer to remember, but I wasn’t at all certain I’d want to.

Strutter
smiled her thanks and sighed. “That man’s name is Reginald Dubois. I used to be married to him.”

With difficulty, I kept my mouth from falling open. Tuttle had been
Strutter’s
name when I met her. She had married John Putnam about a year ago, but I had been vaguely aware of a short-lived, previous marriage that had produced her son Charlie.
“Charlie’s father?”
I finally managed to say.

“Technically speaking, although Reggie was never a father in any real sense.”

It’s funny how you take your friends on faith. I had always known about
Strutter’s
son, but I had never given a thought to
who
Charlie’s father might be.
Strutter
had been single when I met her two years before at the law firm where she and I and Margo had all worked. She was such a strong, loving mother, and there were always so many nieces and nephews and cousins around, that her family had seemed complete as it was. Then John had come along.

“Tell me,” I said now.

“I’ll give you the short version,” she promised. “When I first came to the States, I lived in San Diego. I worked as a waitress until I qualified for free tuition at the state university as a California resident. San Diego is a big Navy town, and Reggie was stationed there. We had a whirlwind romance, but I was raised very strictly. The only way he could get me into bed was to marry me.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “He got leave and whisked me down to Tijuana, where he filled me with cheap wine and took me to some storefront specializing in hurry-up weddings for sailors in a hurry to bed their girlfriends. I was so naïve, and so drunk, that I went for it.”

“Big mistake, huh?”
I sympathized.

“Oh, yeah.
Charlie was born nine months later to the day. Reggie and I lived in married housing for the enlisted personnel, and I worked as long as I could see past my belly. But as soon as Charlie was born, Reggie got ugly. He started slapping me around pretty regularly, but the first time he shook the baby …” Her face contorted at the memory. “I left him immediately, of course. I waited for him to report for work, then packed up and moved in with a girlfriend from the restaurant. We took turns taking care of each other’s kids when we weren’t working.”

“Did you report Reggie to the authorities?” I burned with anger on
Strutter’s
behalf.

“No, I didn’t want him to know where I was living; but I did approach the Mexican authorities to get a divorce. Here’s the dramatic part.”

“
Here’s
the dramatic part?” I was almost afraid to listen to any more.

“Turns out that place in Tijuana
was
a sham operation that churned out phony marriage certificates for stupid Americans. Even the ceremony was malarkey, but we spoke so little Spanish, we thought it was the real thing. The only real things about the whole experience were the pesos that changed hands before the ceremony and the baby that arrived nine months later. Otherwise, it was all pure fiction.”

I could feel my eyes as big as saucers as I stared at my friend. “So then what did you do?”

“Since I wasn’t legally connected to Charlie’s father, and I wasn’t about to go after him for child support anyway, I decided to cut my losses and just disappear. I packed up the baby and headed for Connecticut to live with Estella and her husband.” Estella was one of
Strutter’s
two older sisters, who had a son some ten years older than Charlie. “It took me five years, but I put myself through a legal assistant program at Manchester Community College, went to work at BGB, and got a little apartment for me and Charlie.” She shrugged. “End of story.”

BGB was the Hartford law firm at which we had worked side by side before joining forces with Margo to start MACK Realty. “Until you met Margo and me and John came along,” I pointed out, eager to get to the happy ending. I was rewarded with a fond glance.

“Until then,” she agreed warmly. Her gaze returned to the computer screen.
“And now this.”

“It’s an incredible coincidence that he should turn up in Connecticut, I agree, but Dubois is ancient history. He doesn’t know you’re here …
or
does he?”

Strutter
closed her eyes and rubbed her temples slowly. “I didn’t think so, but as you say, it’s an incredible coincidence that he’s here.” She opened her eyes. “What other reason would he have to come all the way across the country? I’m afraid he’s looking for his son.”

“But how would he find Charlie—or you, for that matter?”

“I heard from my girlfriend once or twice after I came east. She said Reggie had been discharged from the Navy but wound up in prison on an armed assault charge very soon after that.
Big surprise, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, he was released, probably quite a few years ago. And if he knows anything about computers, it wouldn’t be hard to trace me, especially with my name all over transaction documents during the past couple of years.”

I had to admit the truth of what she said. “But what makes you think he’s trying to find you and Charlie? What could he want?”

“His wife and child, that’s
what
.” She jumped up from the sofa and paced restlessly to the window. She stared out at Rhett’s pen for a moment,
then
whirled around to face me. “The thing is
,
I know our marriage was never legal, but I’m not sure Reggie knows it. He may very well think we’re still married.” She turned to stare out the window again. “It’s these poison pen letters, Kate. They’re totally connected to that awful corpse flower at
UConn
, which is where Reggie apparently works now. And despite his violent tendencies, he always thought of himself as an upstanding Christian. There’s something about the judgmental, punitive tone of the letters we’ve been getting.”

She made a face at me over her shoulder. “I was raised on fire and brimstone sermons, too, but some of those Old Testament boys are a little over the top for me. I mean, the Bible says you have to stone your mother if she makes clothes out of two different threads. If Reggie knows about me and John and thinks I’m committing adultery, who knows what he’s capable of doing?”

I sipped my cooling coffee and gave it some thought.
Strutter
hadn’t been kidding about the drama, and as far-fetched as her story might seem to an outsider, I knew Charlene Tuttle Putnam as well as I knew anyone. If she had connected these seemingly haphazard dots, they could well be part of a dangerous picture. Besides, this was the best lead yet on our poison pen-pal.

“You’re right. There are too many coincidences and half-connections here to ignore. That stink-flower is supposed to be in full bloom today or tomorrow, according to the newspapers, and a violent man who may think you’re still his wife, even though you never really were, may have it in his mind to punish you for your nonexistent sins. We have to tell John
Harkness
,
and the sooner the better.”

Margo chose this moment to sail through the law barn lobby and down the steps to our office, Rhett Butler adoringly at heel. “Have to tell John
Harkness
what, exactly?” she smiled, looking from one to the other of us. “And how is your poor ankle,
Darlin
’?”

“I’ll survive,” I said tersely. “The question at hand is, will
Strutter
?”

Without missing a beat, Margo flowed elegantly into
Strutter’s
recently vacated seat and folded her hands in her
lap.Rhett
flopped at her feet and panted happily, overwhelmed at being surrounded by his three biggest fans. “I believe I’ve missed
somethin
’ here. Now you just tell your Auntie Margo all about it.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Margo and
Strutter
were on their way to the Wethersfield Police Department to share this latest development with John
Harkness
and his team. To his utter delight, Rhett was permitted to accompany them. As Margo put it, “
Nothin
’ is quite
so
off-
puttin
’ to a would-be attacker as a great, big
ol
’ hound dog.” I doubted that affectionate, docile Rhett would deter any assailant older than a toddler, but it didn’t hurt anything to let her keep her illusion. On their way through the lobby, they warned Jenny to be on the lookout for a strange man hanging around, particularly if he asked for
Strutter
, and to give out absolutely no information about their whereabouts. Jenny went on point like a good setter, and I was confident that we were in good hands.

The morning wore on. Every half hour or so, I got out of my chair and hobbled a few steps just to stretch my cramped muscles. I was pleased to note that my ice-packs-alternated-with-heat-packs regimen of the previous day had brought the swelling down considerably on my ankle, and getting around
was
becoming more manageable. At about eleven o’clock, Margo called to say that she and
Strutter
were on their way to Vista Views. Under the circumstances, she didn’t want
Strutter
there on her own, and I agreed.

John had sent an investigator up to the University to make inquiries about the guard we presumed was Reggie Dubois. For good measure, he was having a patrol car keep an eye on the Law Barn at regular intervals throughout the day, which I was surprisingly glad to hear. Whatever Dubois’s intentions were, I felt certain that he meant
Strutter
—and perhaps all of us—
harm,
and I was grateful for any protection we could get.

By noon, Jenny and I were both hungry. She left me to man the phones while she ran up the street to the diner, locking me for good measure. Within minutes, she was back with two huge, chicken salad sandwiches and side orders of the diner’s delicious
cole
slaw.
“Any suspicious-looking characters lurking about?”
I asked between greedy bites.

“Nope, no one.”
Her tongue snaked out of one side of her mouth to lick off some dressing. “Not even Fat Squirrel is around, since Rhett isn’t here to harass.” She sighed with satisfaction and patted her flat stomach. “If I keep this up, I’m going to gain more weight than
Strutter
by the time her baby arrives. When is she due, by the way?”

I told her that it might very well be a Christmas baby, and she broke into a big grin. “What a Christmas present, huh?” I agreed that it didn’t get much better than that. She scooped up our trash and returned to her post, leaving me to my thoughts.

Thirteen

By five o’clock, I had completely cleaned up the paperwork that had accumulated during my absence and returned all of the pending phone calls. Despite being propped up for most of the day, my ankle had begun to throb again. I was more than ready to call it a day, so I decided to shut things down and visit the water cooler on my way out in order to swallow another pair of
Advils
. Predictably, I had hoisted myself out of my chair and taken a couple of painful steps when the phone rang. Annoyed, I hobbled back and snatched the phone from its cradle. “Kate Lawrence,” I snapped.

“Oh, dear.
I do hope I haven’t called at a bad time,” quavered
Lavinia
Henstock
, and I immediately felt bad. I flopped back into my chair.