Come Back To Me (33 page)

She hadn’t said anything yet. As far as the sheriff in Park City was concerned, this was a case of domestic violence, pure and simple. Even Cara’s physician had given a statement to the police attesting to the cause of the bruises and the recent injuries she’d sustained. The cause was Micah.

His uncle had been the reason he’d gotten into the business in the first place. Frederick owned a chain of furniture stores. He imported much of his merchandise from overseas. His import business, his stores and warehouses were the perfect cover. The additional money allowed him to support his family and his widowed mother in style. His mother had encouraged him to form a partnership with his uncle. She’d always doted on her younger brother and she’d hoped Frederick would have a stabilizing influence on him. Unfortunately that hadn’t been the case.

Cara’s mother entered the waiting room. “She says she’ll see you, but please keep your visit short.”

“Thank you.”

Cara was propped up in bed, her face pale, her auburn curls tucked behind her ears. The greenish-yellow color of resolving bruises wrapped around her graceful neck and extended down her arms.

Even here, in this sterile colorless hospital setting, even pregnant and wearing a shapeless hospital gown, she was quite possibly the loveliest woman he had ever seen.

From the moment he’d met her, he’d understood Micah’s attraction to her. Frederick was happily married. He and his wife had two daughters and she’d given birth to a son just six weeks ago. He was devoted to his wife, but never the less, he could imagine keeping Cara for himself, maybe set her up in Cabo or Puerto Vallarta, Mazatlan, possibly. Just so he could have her once in a great while.
Once in a great while
. It was tempting. She was tempting. If nothing else, it might make for a good compromise. Might keep her quiet.

He set the flowers down on her bedside table.

“Cara,” he said, taking her hand, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Frederick.”

“Had I known, I might have been able to help.”

“I doubt it,” she replied. “Micah could be quite single-minded.”

“Yes.”

“Please sit with me for a few moments.”

Frederick pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. He cleared his throat. “I think you should know that all of Micah’s assets are in my name but . . .”

Cara held up a hand. “I assumed as much. It’s all right. I don’t want anything of Micah’s.”

“Let me finish,” Frederick said. “It’s my responsibility to see that you and your child, Micah’s child, are taken care of. You’ll be provided for.”

“There’s no need,” said Cara. She was blunt. “This isn’t Micah’s baby. There’s no need for you to provide for me.”

Frederick prided himself on his control, but he couldn’t hide the shock he felt at hearing her words. He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. What the hell? She’d cheated on Micah? Was she suicidal?”

“Then that’s why he . . . ?”

“No.” Cara said. “Micah didn’t know. He thought this was his child. Micah came after me because I was leaving him. I planned to leave with my mother. He wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t give me a divorce.”

“Whose? Whose child? Whose? Jerry’s? This is Jerry’s child.”

Cara didn’t deny it. She looked directly into Frederick’s eyes. He saw tears on her long lashes. “Yes,” she said. “This is Jerry’s child.”

“Micah . . . ? He killed Jerry, didn’t he?”

“I believe so,” said Cara. “But if he did it wasn’t because of me. He didn’t know anything about our affair. If he killed Jerry, it was because of you.”

Frederick’s mouth fell open. “Me?”

“Before he disappeared, Jerry told me Micah had ordered him to kill you, to kill you and your family. Micah paid him . . .” Cara fought for control. Her bottom lip trembled. “Micah gave him a lot of money to do it. Right before Micah left for Los Angeles Jerry told him he wouldn’t do it. He tried to give the money back.”

“But you said Micah called you from the airport when Jerry didn’t arrive, that you picked him up.”

“I lied. God help me, I lied. I was afraid of what Micah would do to me if I told the police the truth. He did call from the airport, but he didn’t ask me to pick him up. Micah didn’t come home at all that night. When he showed up in the morning he climbed straight into the shower. His clothes were in a paper bag and he burned them in the fireplace. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t tell you. Micah was out of control.” She wiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “You’re the only other person who knows.”

Frederick sat back in his chair, stunned. Unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable, but it was the only thing that made sense. He’d always found Jerry’s disappearance suspicious.

Could Micah have killed the man because he screwed his wife?

Frederick dismissed the thought instantly. Micah would have killed Cara first; then he’d have gone after Jerry.

“Why? Why would he ask Jerry to do something like that?”

“I don’t know.” Cara reached for his hand. “I don’t know. But Jerry gave me the money. He told me to use it to get away from Micah. I think he knew what might happen to him.”

“How did Micah get home that morning?”

“I don’t know that either, but someone must have brought him home.”

“Where’s the money?”

“Under the deck, in the back of the house,” said Cara. “Down the steps and to the right is a crawl space. There’s a screen. Pull it off. The money’s in a plastic bag just to the right of the opening. I didn’t touch it. Jerry told me to hide it so I hid it.”

“Why didn’t you use it to get away from Micah?”

Cara looked at him, her hazel eyes enormous. “Do you really think I would have been able to get away from Micah? Hide from Micah? A pregnant woman? Where would I go? I don’t even have a passport.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s blood money. I didn’t want it. I don’t want anything from you. I just want to go home.”

∗    ∗    ∗

Frederick returned to his hotel room and he made a phone call. He’d sweated through his shirt, so he took a shower and changed into fresh clothes. Then he ordered room service and he waited. At midnight the phone rang.

“I’ve got it.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred thousand and a note.”

“A note?”

“Yeah, your address written in Welsh’s handwriting on Welsh’s fancy stationary. What do you want me to do with it?”

“Pack it up and deliver it to my mother. Tonight. Send someone you trust.”

“Will do.”

“Did you find anything else?”

“Not a thing.”

“Nothing that might tell us who helped Micah with that little job?”

“No.”

“Brian, Cara Welsh is going home with her mother. I don’t want anyone interfering. Make sure everyone understands she’s off limits.”

“Got it.”

June 1979

T
he baby scooted across the polished wood floor, heading straight for the stairs. Cara reached him before he could get into trouble. She swung him up onto her hip.

“You would head right for the stairs, you little munchkin. I need to get the gate from the car.”

Jeremy grinned at her; rubbing his tongue along the edges of his two bottom teeth.

He was a big, handsome baby, with dark brown curly hair, bright blue eyes and a ready smile. He was pretty, but no one would mistake her son for a girl. He was all boy, physically precocious, already crawling at seven months. Over the past week he’d been trying to pull himself up on furniture. Cara smiled. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was walking in another six weeks, and then she would never be able to take her eyes off him.

“He’s a handful,” said her mother, reaching for the baby. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely,” said Cara. “This is what I want. Besides, you and Phil are only two hours away. Don’t worry, Mom, you’ll see plenty of him.”

Her mother brushed her lips over Jeremy’s soft head. “It has been nice having you and the baby around. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, but this is exactly what I want.”

“When do your classes start?”

“Two weeks.”

“Are you sure you can handle this? You’ll be working as a teaching assistant at the same time you’re trying to study, and you’ll have this little guy to take care of. It’s an awful lot of responsibility.”

“Piece of cake, Mom. Piece of cake.”

“Yes.” Her mother bounced the baby up and down on her hip. “I guess you’re right.”

They didn’t talk much about it, but it was always there, what had happened in Utah nine months before. Cara didn’t have words enough to thank her mom for what she’d done for her. For everything she’d done.

Her mother had lied to the police without hesitation. It was just one lie, one little lie, but that lie had been critically important. She said she’d seen Cara get the gun from Micah’s desk. It had been imperative to remove any niggling doubt in the minds of the police or Micah’s nephew about what had actually happened. If there was any question about premeditation, it could have proved fatal for all of them.

“So how does Iowa City look to you?” asked Phil, entering the front door, a big box in his arms.

“Perfect,” said Cara. “Incredibly, indescribably, wonderfully, amazingly, perfectly perfect.”

“Do I hear someone talking about me?”

“Will!” Cara leaped past Phil and landed in her friend’s arms.

Will stumbled back a few paces to steady himself, laughing at Cara’s antics as she practically climbed on top of him.

“And to think, I wasn’t sure of my reception.”

“How did you know?” Cara asked, disentangling herself, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“A little bird told me.” Will glanced over at Louise. “Will he let me hold him?”

“Jeremy? He loves guys, especially tall guys. Go for it.”

Jeremy stared up at Will from the safety of his grandmother’s hip. He stuck two fingers in his mouth.

“He’s teething,” said Louise.

Will squared his shoulders. “Well, let’s give this a try. It’s been a while since I did my pediatric rotation.”

Jeremy went right into his arms.

Cara said, “This is your Uncle Will. He’s a funny guy. He’ll play cars with you. He likes cars.” Cara retrieved a big red fire engine and a yellow pickup truck from the toy box she’d shoved into the living room. Jeremy wiggled in Will’s arms.

“I guess that’s my cue to sit on the floor,” said Will.

“I guess it is.” Cara sat down with them, leaning her head against Will’s shoulder for just a moment. “I’m glad to see you,” she said. “I really am. Right now I have to finish unpacking, but don’t go anywhere. We have a lot of catching up to do. Okay?”

Jeremy thrust the fire engine onto Will’s lap. He laughed. “I suspect we firemen will be busy for a while.”

∗    ∗    ∗

Summer flew by and turned into fall while Cara compiled research for her Master’s thesis. She finally gave in to temptation and returned to painting. Because she no longer possessed the fine dexterity in her fingers she’d once had, she was forced to explore new avenues, new media and different techniques. If anything, her abstracts became more experimental, increasingly adventurous. The colors she used were bolder now, more assertive.

By October, she was ready for her first showing. Her job as a teaching assistant kept her very busy, as did her son, but because of Jeremy, Cara was easily recognized by students and professors alike. Her son was such a flirt that Cara had no shortage of female students willing to babysit.

Will helped out too, and Jeremy adored him. Cara treasured his friendship, but more and more she’d noticed Will watching her, and she was becoming increasingly concerned that he wanted more than a friendship. She knew she’d have to speak with him soon. She loved spending time with him, but their relationship would never be anything other than a close friendship. Cara had known true love with James yet she’d run from him. She didn’t expect to find it again.

She and Will never spoke of James. Cara didn’t ask a single question about him, because she preferred not to know what he was doing or who he was seeing. She refused to allow herself to dream of what might have been. There was only now, and now she was happy. She loved her son more than life itself. She had plenty to occupy her time—school and work and painting. She and her mother had grown very close, something Cara could never have imagined, and she’d begun to think of Phil as a father. He’d certainly become a grandfather to Jeremy in every sense of the word.

When she lay in bed alone late at night, Cara often found herself mulling over the events of the past few years. She apologized to Micah out loud, her whole being sad for him. He’d died. She’d lived. She wished Micah hadn’t forced her hand, but the irony didn’t escape her. Micah had accomplished what years of therapy had failed to do, forced her to grow a backbone.

After apologizing to Micah, Cara always thanked Jerry for his help, for giving her a son. She wished she could tell him what a wonderful child Jeremy was, but that was impossible. She had no idea where Jerry was or how to reach him, and she would rather die than put either Jerry or her son at risk.

Cara and Will spent Jeremy’s first birthday with her mother and Phil. It was on the drive home, with Jeremy asleep in his car seat in the back, that she spelled things out for Will.