Chapter 29
Adeline sat in the SUV and stared at the farmhouse that had been home to her for the first twenty-one years of her life.
Seemed she’d been doing a lot of contemplating lately.
It was like taking a huge step back into a place that hadn’t changed in the slightest. She had changed but everything here still felt the same.
No matter how far she’d run, or where she’d run, the place and the people were still here.
Waiting. Frozen in time and attitude as if her dramatic departure had changed nothing. As if her sacrifices hadn’t mattered.
How was that possible?
Her gaze roved over the house she’d played in as a kid. Where she’d fought with her parents during those rebellious teenage years. The place where she’d felt safe when the rest of the world had seemed crazy.
All except for that once.
Nine years ago, after Gage’s death, even this house hadn’t felt like a haven. Granted, her mother had still been grieving her father’s death. As had Adeline. Both their lives had been in utter turmoil. Nothing had felt right or real.
Except Wyatt.
And then he’d let her down, too.
Adeline shook off the bad memories. Sucked in a deep breath for courage and reminded her brain to stay out of the past.
There was enough crap going on right here in the present. No need to go digging up the past all at once. First, she had to talk to her mother. Get that out of the way.
She climbed out of the SUV and surveyed the condition of the house.
Still in good shape. Her mother had stayed on top of the maintenance just as Adeline’s father always had.
Adeline had felt a little guilty over the years that she wasn’t here to help out.
Her mom had always insisted that she had everything under control.
It was good to see that she hadn’t been keeping anything from Adeline.
Both of her parents had always been far too protective.
Came with the territory of being an only child.
The house wasn’t nearly so imposing as the one Cyrus lived in just beyond the woods and fields to the east. As the oldest, Cyrus had inherited the family home.
Adeline’s father had renovated the only remaining tenant farmer’s house.
Carl hadn’t been nearly so taken with appearances and material possessions.
He’d never had any desire to prove he was better or wealthier than anyone else.
Too bad Cyrus hadn’t taken a page from his younger brother’s book on how to live right. Cyrus Cooper liked owning things and people. No matter the price, usually levied on anyone but him.
Funny how the good guys always went well before the bad ones. By rights, Adeline’s father should be enjoying his golden years and that old bastard Cyrus should’ve been planted in that damned cemetery.
But life was rarely fair. Maybe that was why Adeline had decided to walk away. Walk, she supposed, was an understatement. Most around here called what she’d done “running.”
Until now, she hadn’t once cared what any of them thought.
This sudden uncertainty about her past decisions she suffered now was more likely related to the case and the utter helplessness of being unable to do a damned thing.
Two women were possibly dead, or would be soon, and she couldn’t find one damned lead to follow.
And the bad guy just kept dashing it in her face. Getting closer and closer.
Prescott had visited Arnold. That had to mean something. Somewhere in her history, Adeline had to be connected to those two women.
Since her father was dead, that left only her mother to ask. It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only shot she had a clear window at making just now.
This wall that had erected itself between her and her mother over the past nine years had to come down.
Her mother had assured Adeline over and over that she had made the right decision moving away and not coming back.
Yet her mother had refused to join her. Something had held her back.
Maybe the need to be in this house close to the things and the life she had shared with her husband.
But it felt disturbing.
All these years Adeline had let it ride, not pushing the subject. She couldn’t do that anymore.
She needed the whole truth.
Before climbing the steps, she assessed the sky. Not a cloud in sight, no more rain hopefully. A shiver went through her. Maybe she’d get a decent night’s sleep tonight without having to resort to her old methods of consoling irrational fears from her childhood.
She’d scarcely crossed the porch when the door opened.
“Addy.” Her mother looked her up and down, as she always did when her daughter arrived home after a day on the job as a cop. “Is something wrong?”
Her mother didn’t have to state the obvious.
Adeline was here—home—after nine years. She hadn’t set foot on Cooper land in all that time until her recent visit to Cyrus.
That she was here now would be startling for anyone who knew her.
Still, it seemed strange that her mother would assume the worst. Then again, she hadn’t gotten around to calling her back until this morning, which obviously hadn’t helped.
This case was the problem. It was making everyone edgy.
“Maybe,” Adeline confessed. She shrugged. “Mainly, I need to ask you a few questions.”
Something flickered in her mother’s eyes before she stepped back and eased the door open wider. “Well, don’t be so formal. Come on in.”
A little puzzled by her mother’s reaction, Adeline stepped across the threshold into the life she’d once known.
Decades of memories bombarded her. Her father stepping through this same door and sweeping Adeline into his arms. The smell of chicken soup in the winter and fresh vegetables sautéing in the summer.
And sweets baking in the oven. Adeline inhaled deeply.
She could almost smell those chocolate chip cookies of her mother’s.
“I was just having a cup of tea.” Her mother smoothed a hand over her blouse. “I would have changed if I’d known you were coming. I’ve been baking all afternoon. Would you like some tea or cocoa?”
“Nah, I’m good.” Adeline was too busy taking in the sights and smells. She’d thought she smelled cookies.
The house felt exactly the same. Cozy, clean, welcoming.
Her mother had always kept a meticulous home.
Same striped wallpaper in the entry hall.
Same well-worn wood floor. Furnishings were the ones that had always been there.
The lingering scent of baked goods in the air.
It could have been ten years ago or twenty.
Her stomach rumbled. She had no idea when she’d eaten last.
“I made chocolate chip cookies.” Irene smiled. “I know how you love them. I was going to bring a basket of goodies by the sheriff’s office.”
Since you didn’t come by on Christmas or even call, she didn’t add.
At some point Adeline needed to admit that she wasn’t a very good daughter when it came to this sort of thing.
She’d stopped going to mass when she turned eighteen.
She hated going to church. The somber face of the priest. All the rituals.
Just hadn’t been her thing. Now that she thought about it, she’d spent a lot of time disappointing her parents.
“Maybe later,” Adeline offered. Feeling guilty, she tacked on, “I do love them.”
Smiling now, her mother led the way into the family room.
A wave of nostalgia washed over Adeline as she took in the room.
The Christmas tree stood in the corner near the front window.
Same decorations her mother had always used, including a couple of elementary school projects of Adeline’s.
A crooked star and a not-so-flattering snowman.
The colors were a little faded now, washed out—kind of the way Adeline felt at the moment.
Despite the fact that Adeline hadn’t been home in nine years and her father had been dead for ten, three timeworn velvet stockings hung from the mantel.
Adeline walked over to the fireplace, briefly admired the familiar brickwork before turning her attention to the framed photographs lining the wood mantel.
A smile tugged at her lips. Her daddy had been a handsome man.
He’d gotten all the looks and Cyrus had inherited all the conniving, evil genes.
Irene had been quite the looker, as well.
Still was. Some gray had invaded her dark hair, but otherwise she remained trim and youthful looking.
Adeline turned to her mother who’d taken a seat in her favorite chair—the one in which her husband had spent his evenings watching the news for as long as Adeline could remember.
“You been watching the news?” Adeline asked as she settled onto the sofa.
She rubbed her hand over the coarse, sturdy texture.
Same sofa as when she’d been a hardheaded teenager.
Her mother had been so proud the day it was delivered.
The previous sofa had been pretty beat up from Adeline and her cousin’s rowdy childhood antics.
Irene nodded, her expression somber. “Is there still nothing new on the case?” She reached for the delicate porcelain cup and saucer on the table next to her chair and sipped her tea.
Her mother always had hot tea in the afternoons.
Two sugars and lemon. From a delicate white cup embellished with pink roses.
The china had been in the family for as far back as Adeline remembered.
Belonged to her grandmother if she recalled correctly.
Unlike most who only used their china on special occasions, her mother used it every day.