Is Three A Crowd? (15 page)

“Hello,” she said, hoping to sound upbeat.

“Welcome back,” Nathan said standing and stretching to his full height.

“Any problems with the trip?” Blake inquired.

“No, over and done with. Why didn’t you go inside to wait?” She paused in front of the two men and studied them carefully.

“This is your space now.” Nathan reached in front of her and pushed the door inward, Shin racing to be the first inside.

“It’s your property. I’m just spending some time here.” Those words felt wrong as soon as she said them. “What would you like, wine or something stronger?” Heading inside, Blake followed first.

“How about some information?” Blake said with a smile. Nathan exhaled heavily and shut the door behind him.

“We said we would let her tell us what happened.”

“Oh, please, Nathan. She was gone for days, and if you weren’t standing here, I’d sweep her up in my arms and take her upstairs to bed. Maybe she’ll remember me then.” His lips curled into a mischievous grin as Nathan shook his head. “He’s annoyed you wouldn’t let us come with you.”

“Maybe I should have,” she said, more to herself than to her men. “It was all very mundane. I cleaned the apartment, emptied out my desk at the office, and arranged to use my vacation time.” She didn’t mention the odd feeling of being watched while she was there, or on the drive back.

“And?” Blake prompted. She watched Nathan pace before the front window, listening but not watching her.

“And I gathered the files I went for.” She glanced at Blake and back to Nathan, who stiffened. “But before you ask, I didn’t open them. In fact, I’ve stayed as far away from them as I could.” Blake’s facial expression asked questions without words. “My mother’s perfume was so heavy on them, it turned my stomach. Every time I go near them, her scent lingers on my skin. Funny, I remember her always using the same scent, but I don’t remember it making me nauseous. It’s probably just because they were sealed away in the bank vault for so long.”

“You’ve done something, Maris. I can see it on your face, your eyes. You’re troubled.” Nathan walked to the bar and held up a container of bourbon. Both she and Blake nodded their acceptance. She listened to the clanking of ice hitting the bottom of the short, thick crystal tumblers. When each of them had a drink in hand, she settled before the fireplace in the center of the sofa. It was a definite ploy, wondering who would choose to sit next to her. To her surprise, Blake sat on the hearth, and Nathan sat on the edge of the club chair beside it.

“Maris, we’ve tried to be as a patient as we could, but neither of us can wait much longer.”

“All right, I did do something. Something I should have done years ago.” Both men leaned forward to better hear her words. “I went online and found some newspaper articles.” Her words came out in a rush. “I didn’t like what I found, and I never got past the first few links.”

“What did you find?” Blake asked.

“I found out that my accident wasn’t an accident at all. Apparently, I was pushed in an attempt to send me hurtling to my death into
Niagara Falls
.” Maris paused to sip her drink. “I don’t believe it was either of you, but I still don’t know who did it and why. After finding out that information, I took a walk to clear my head. But, now that you’re both here, I suppose I should start at the beginning.”

She stood and walked to the bar, taking the cut glass bourbon decanter with her. “I’m not sure where to do this,” she said, leaving them to follow her. Standing in the kitchen holding the three leather portfolios, she glanced around.

“Wow, I remember that scent,” Blake said.

“So do I,” Nathan added. “Every day when I left the trial I had a migraine from it.”

“The trial? There was a trial? You were both there, in the courtroom? Why didn’t one or both of you approach me?” Maris glanced from one man to the other.

“Because we were threatened with expulsion if we did.” Nathan didn’t censor his angry tone.

“We were only allowed to sit in the last row, in the very back.” Blake shook his head in anger, “Felt like we were the black sheep of the family, being seated by the bathroom at a family function.”

“I was only there a few times for meetings.” As she spoke aloud, she started to remember the circumstances after her fall. “The lawyers said I couldn’t sit in. Margo said it was in case I had to testify. My testimony wouldn’t be colored by other things I’d hear in court.”

“Margo made sure you never heard any of it.” Nathan exhaled, as if he were relieved to speak without overthinking his words.

“I never saw or noticed either of you, never gave you a confused look or acknowledged you?”

“You were hustled in and out of the courthouse. We were expressly never told when you’d be there.”

“You know who hurt me, who tried to kill me.” It was a blatant statement, one she didn’t want to believe. “How could you both make me wait this long, especially after the last weeks here? Why?”

Nathan put his glass on the table and moved behind her, his hands going to her shoulders. “We were told by outside authorities it would be best for you to remember on your own. That pushing you would make it more… traumatic as you remembered.”
 

“Neither of us wanted it this way,” Blake said, glancing to Nathan’s hands on her shoulders.

Maris noted his small indication of jealousy. “I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to know my history.” Pausing, she looked from one man to the other. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from them—reassurance, she surmised, but wasn’t sure just why. Technically, they were strangers to her, but she knew that wasn’t right deep down.

“Any suggestions where to open these?”

“The barn,” Blake said with a wink of his left eye.

“How about the greenhouse? Maybe the other smells and fertilizer there will counter the perfume.”

“It sounds like a plan, but let’s take the bourbon with us.” She handed Nathan two of the portfolios and Blake the third. Reaching for the decanter, Blake told her to leave it, that Aminta would bring them whatever they wanted from the main house. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until after supper?” she asked.

“Are you hungry or just procrastinating?”

“Procrastinating,” she admitted.

They were quiet as they walked to the greenhouse. Both her men seemed surprised when she didn’t want to ride there. She’d told them both to take their vehicles, but both stayed at her side. Shin, on the other hand, bounded ahead, chasing leaves and anything that caught her eye.

* * * *

While she’d examined the greenhouse for the appraisal, it had been very clinical. Today it felt different, personal. She loved the scent of flowers and dirt when the door was pushed inward. There was no doubt in her mind this was a settling place for her, anxiety leaving her mind and body, and she wandered back and forth along the aisles of seedling planters, all now empty.

“These will need to be started soon if you want plants for spring,” she said as she walked. Back at the front, she noted the men had cleared the worktable of gardening supplies and set the folders down. Each looked at her with an apprehensive glance. Blake seemed nervous, Nathan angst ridden.

“I guess we start at the beginning.” She pulled a folder forward and pulled out a few pages, checking dates. After the order had been established, Maris took the last two files and put them to the side. Then she emptied the pages and sat heavily on the stool Nathan pushed behind her. When they were all seated, she finally began.

“Should we each take a stack?”

“Why not glance over each page and pass it along?” Blake offered.

The first pages she came across were her mother’s marriage license to Frederick Dusan, dated three months before her birth, and their divorce papers, dated three months later. It seemed both parties wanted nothing from the other monetarily. Margo asked for full custody and got it. The next were Maris’s birth certificate, inoculation records, and school records.

There were old report cards and certificates of her achievements from high school, mainly debating and science projects. With each one, an image formed in her mind. She was standing before a full auditorium, pushing her point and discounting her opponent’s argument. She remembered the applause, remembered she liked the rush of adrenaline at being the center of attention. She remembered accepting the award for her science project on composting and recycling. She laughed at how far society had come in this area and frowned when she realized how much further there was to go.

“Maris,” Blake said, getting her scrutiny.

Handing the papers to him, she simply said, “I didn’t know she kept these.” The next were house leases and university letters of acceptance. “I know this is tacky, but I have no idea where our money came from. I mean, when she divorced Frederick Dusan, she took no settlement or child support. I have no recollection of her ever working or holding a job. How did we live?”

“It must all be in there,” Nathan assured her.

“I suppose.” She continued to leaf through the pages, nothing of importance catching her eye. She watched as Nathan left the worktable to make a short call on his cell phone and turn on the overhead heaters, the warmth instantly welcome.

“Thanks, I didn’t realize how cold it was in here.”

“Aminta will bring us drinks.”

“Good, I can use one,” Blake teased, bumping his shoulder against hers. “You really don’t know how your mother supported you?”

“No. I suppose at one time I did, but now, no.”

“Keep going, maybe we’ll find something.”

“There’s no bank statements, no financial records here.”

“Maybe they’ll be in the next one.” Nathan was interrupted as Aminta entered with a large tray. She noted the bourbon decanter, along with a coffee pot and a tray of sandwiches. “Thanks,” was all Nathan said, taking the tray and placing it on the far end of their work surface. Aminta nodded and left quickly.

“Who wants what?” Blake asked, going to the tray.

“I’ll take coffee,” Maris said, sidetracked by the form she held. Nathan took coffee, too. Blake poured himself a drink. He took the plate with the sandwiches and put it within reach of where they sat gathered around the files.

“These are all just…junk. There doesn’t seem to be anything here except school and housing records.”

“Don’t get discouraged,” Blake said, offering her the sandwich plate. She took a half, nodded her thanks, and went back to the pages. It seemed to take forever to go through the first portfolio, and Maris was disappointed. Nothing seemed important.

“But I can’t imagine she’d keep all this without reason.”

“Maybe just sentimental,” Nathan observed, continuing to scan the pages.

“Or a parent proud of her daughter’s accomplishments.” Blake clinked his glass against her coffee cup.

“I want to keep going, but I’m bleary-eyed.”

“Then it’s time to walk away. You had a long day, a long drive, and now all this information. You’re tired.” Nathan stood and stretched to his full height.

“You two must be tired, too.” They had been careful to keep the pages in order and pushed them back in the leather case. For the first time, Maris realized how dark it was outside. “Oh, my, it’s late, isn’t it? I forgot to feed Shin.”

“Aminta took her when he came with refreshments.”

Maris stood and stretched, taking the few steps to where Nathan stood. “Thank you for remembering her.” She kissed his cheek lightly and turned to Blake. “And thank you, too.” She gave him the same light peck on the cheek and turned in the space. “I’m going home for a bath and some sleep.”

“What about food?”

“You two go, I’m gonna walk back and try to relax.”

“We’ll both walk you back,” Nathan said, then added, “Our vehicles are parked there.” He smiled for the first time that day, and Maris laughed.

They walked with her between them, her arms wrapped around each of their waists. “When would you like to start the second folder?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, and felt Nathan hesitate. “What, we left them in the greenhouse, I promise I won’t walk back in the middle of the night.”

“Do me a favor, Maris. Stay off the internet tonight, too. Tomorrow we’ll get back to this, but for tonight, just relax.”

“Yes, sir. Besides, I’m too tired for anything else.”