I’m going to die. No. No. With a desperate cry she wrenched her hand free and drove the awl into his shoulder.
He howled in pain and she skittered back.
“Tanner!” It was the woman. From the corner of her eye she saw the butler come around the house, a rifle in his hands-just as the guard lunged. Ashley brought her arm around in a hard arc, striking the guard with the doorknob.
For a moment he was stunned motionless.
The moment was all she needed. Go. Go. Go. She made it to the woods that separated the house from the river. God, help me. The sticks and rocks shredded her feet, slowing her down. They were coming. Coming. Uttering a hoarse cry she ran. She could see the water. It would be cold.
Ready. Ready. Big breath. Brace yourself. Now. Jump.
God. She hit the cold water and dove deep. Go. Go. Go. She surfaced a few seconds later, the water too cold for her to hold her breath any longer, and she flinched at the sound of the rifle. It had hit the water, somewhere behind her.
Behind her. They were behind her.
But they had no boat. And I am going to the Olympics.
Move. She forced her arms to move, to stroke, to work with the current. It was working. I’m getting away. I’m coming, Dad. I’m coming home.
Dutton, Sunday, February 4, 4:10 a.m.
Susannah woke with lips on hers, unable to breathe. Panicked, she shrank back, her fist connecting with something solid and warm. That smelled like cedar.
“Ow.” Luke pulled back, rubbing his jaw. “That hurt.”
“Don’t do that,” she said breathlessly. “I mean it.”
He moved his jaw back and forth. “I’m sorry. You looked sweet. I couldn’t resist.”
“I’m not sweet,” she said darkly, and he laughed.
“At the moment, no.” He sobered. “You were dreaming and I couldn’t wake you up.”
She touched her lips with the tip of her tongue. “So you kissed me.”
“And you woke up. We’re here. This is Angie Delacroix’s address.”
“She’ll be asleep.”
“I hope she wakes up better than you do,” he muttered, and came around to get her door. “Let me talk first. If I need you I’ll let you know.”
“How, with some kind of signal?” she asked.
“How about I just say, ‘Susannah, please help,’ ” he said dryly, and rang Angie’s bell. “You ready for this?”
“No. But we’ll do what needs to be done.”
Angie opened the door, curlers piled high on her head. “What’s this? Susannah Vartanian, what in God’s name are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“I’m sorry to wake you,” Susannah said quietly, “but it’s urgent. May we come in?”
Angie looked from Susannah to Luke, then shrugged. “Come in.” She led them into a living room that shone, mainly from the plastic covers on every stick of furniture.
Luke sat on the sofa without hesitation, then patted the cushion next to him. “I’m Special Agent Papadopoulos,” he said.
“I know who you are,” Angie said. “You’re Daniel Vartanian’s friend.”
“Miss Delacroix,” he said, “we need your help on a delicate matter.”
Angie’s eyes shuttered. “What?”
“Tonight we discovered there is another Vartanian,” Luke said. “A half-sister.”
She sighed. “I was wondering when this would come out. How did you find out?”
“Then you knew?” Susannah asked, and Angie smiled bitterly.
“Honey, I know things I got no business knowing and things I wish I’d never heard. Yes, I knew. A body only had to look at her to know, even that young.”
“Where is she, Miss Delacroix?” Luke asked, and Angie looked confused.
“Now? I don’t know. She was just a baby when her parents moved away. We lost touch years ago.”
“Miss Delacroix,” Luke said. “Who was the baby’s mother?”
“Terri Styveson.”
Susannah blinked. “The preacher’s wife?”
“I thought Wertz was the pastor,” Luke said.
“Pastor Styveson was here before Pastor Wertz,” Angie said.
“You mean Mrs. Styveson had an affair with my father?”
“I don’t know if it was as big as an affair. Terri really wasn’t your daddy’s type. Your mama was pregnant with Simon and as big as a house. That’s genetic, you know.”
“Thank you,” Susannah said. “So because Mother was pregnant, my father just…”
“Men have needs. Except, apparently, Pastor Styveson. Terri was one frustrated woman. He was very much into his daily devotional. She once asked me how to make herself more appealing to him. That sure made Sunday services more awkward.”
“I guess it did,” Susannah said. “So she and my father had a fling?”
“Yes.” Angie sighed. “I’ll never forget how hurt your mama was when she found out.”
“So my mother knew. How did she find out?”
“Like I said, you only had to look at the baby. One morning your mama was picking up Simon in the church nursery and she got a good look. That baby was the spittin’ image of Daniel at the same age.”
“What happened?”
Angie was quiet for a moment. “Your mother paid a visit to the pastor. Confronted him. The pastor was… angry. Humiliated. Your mama and I were friends for nearly forty years, but she had a mean streak, Susannah. She told Styveson that he had a choice-he had to go or the baby had to go. She said that she’d see he never got another congregation as long as he lived if she had to look at his wife’s bastard baby every week in church. She would’ve done it, too.”
“So they left,” Luke said.
“And as far as I know they never had any contact with your father or mother again.”
She didn’t know about Barbara Jean Davis, Susannah thought. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. She started to rise, but Angie sat, her lips pursed.
“So the woman’s come forward for the inheritance,” Angie said, and Susannah blinked. She honestly hadn’t even considered that.
“Yes,” Luke said without hesitation.
“Greed drives people to do terrible things.” She tilted her head. “So does anger.”
“What does that mean?” Susannah asked.
“Just that you might want to submit your own sample for paternity testing.”
Susannah’s mouth fell open. “Miss Angie, don’t play games with me. Speak plainly.”
“Fine. When your mother found out about your daddy’s dalliance, she reciprocated.”
Susannah sat back, stunned. “With who?”
Angie looked down at her hands, twisted together in her lap.
All Susannah could hear was her heart pounding in her head. “Who?” she repeated.
Angie looked up, her eyes filled with misery. “Frank Loomis.”
Susannah’s lungs stopped working. “You mean… Sheriff Loomis is… was…”
Angie nodded. “Your father.”
Susannah’s hands rose to cover her mouth. Luke’s hand slid across her back. Warm and solid. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“You need to understand,” Angie said. “Frank loved your mama, for years.”
“Did Frank know he was Susannah’s biological father?” Luke asked.
“Not till later. Not till Simon got into more trouble than Arthur could fix. Your mother would plead with Frank, ask him to make the trouble disappear. ‘For me,’ she’d say,” Angie said bitterly. “Then one day Simon did something so bad, Frank couldn’t make it go away. That’s when your mother told him about you. He was so shocked. ‘For me,’ she said. ‘The mama of your baby girl.’ So he fixed it. And had nightmares for thirteen years because an innocent man had gone to prison.”
“Gary Fulmore,” Luke said, and she nodded. “How do you know all this?” he asked.