Inez raised her nose a little higher. "Allan was a very vital fifty-one. Age doesn't always matter if two people are right for each other." She seemed to choke up. "We had no idea there was anything wrong with his heart."

He wondered if Holly had known and mentally kicked himself for suspecting she had. He dropped the subject of age difference, more convinced than ever that Allan and Holly had been anything but "right" for each other. "I take it Allan didn't have any children from an earlier marriage?"

She made a face as if suddenly smelling something unpleasant. "Allan's first love was his career. He was much too busy to even consider marriage, then he met Holly." She made it sound as if Holly had hexed her poor unsuspecting brother. A definite possibility, he thought, as a man who too had been hexed by her.

"You say Allan and Holly met at a party? What party was that?" he asked.

"I can't see what any of this could possibly have to do with your...investigation into the death of Holly's baby," Inez said. "That is is what this is about, isn't it?" what this is about, isn't it?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I was just curious."

And it appeared Inez wasn't about to satisfy any more of that curiosity.

"On Halloween night you got a call to go to the hospital," he said. "Who placed that call to you?"

"One of the nurses, I a.s.sume. She said she was calling from County Hospital and that Holly had delivered her baby."

"Then she led you to believe Holly had had the baby at the hospital," Slade asked.

"Well, of course she did," Inez snapped. "Where else would she have had the baby?"

"Well, that's the question isn't it? The doctor says she didn't deliver at the hospital. Someone dropped her and the baby off."

"That's ridiculous."

He could see Inez was the type of woman who believed what she wanted and nothing was going to change her mind.

"Did you see Holly the day she had the baby?"

"No, I hadn't seen her for a couple days. But the baby wasn't due for another week or so."

"The baby came early then?" Was it possible the people who had delivered Holly's baby had induced the labor? Especially if they'd planned to take her baby and had known another woman who was about to deliver a stillborn baby?

He knew that sort of thinking was way out there. But until he found out where Holly had given birth, he had to wonder if anything wasn't possible.

"What difference does any of this make?" Inez demanded. "The baby didn't live. Allan Junior is buried next to his father. There is nothing more to be said about this."

"His father? Allan Junior? But the baby isn't his, right?"

"Playing up to Holly's delusions isn't helping her," Inez continued as if he'd never spoken. "She's come up with this fantasy about another baby out of guilt. She had another man's offspring when she knew how badly poor Allan wanted a child. Of course, she feels guilty."

Slade could see that Inez was doing her best to make Holly feel that way. But as much as he didn't want this old witch to be right, he was also smart enough to know that the other baby, the one Holly thought she remembered, might be nothing more than a guilt-induced fantasy.

But the mystery still remained as to where where Holly had given birth. Holly had given birth.

The elderly woman got to her feet with no small effort, signaling that their "meeting" was over. "It's just a case of guilt, grief and postpartum depression for the dearly loved husband she lost and the child she conceived only to appease that loss."

Slade didn't move. Guilt, grief and postpartum depression. Guilt, grief and postpartum depression. The exact words Holly had used and in the same order. The words echoed, making his skin crawl. The exact words Holly had used and in the same order. The words echoed, making his skin crawl.

"What if Holly's right?" he asked quietly. "What if that baby in the ground isn't hers? What if someone has her child?"

"Then good riddance," the old woman snapped, her face contorting into a mask of meanness. "That baby should never have been conceived in the first place. As far as I'm concerned, it's dead and gone and Holly's licentiousness is buried with it." She took a ragged breath, anger putting two slashes of scarlet into her otherwise gray face. "Nor will I hear of this so-called investigation of yours going any farther. Holly gave birth to a stillborn baby. That's the end of it."

It surprised him, not how she felt about Holly's baby, but that she'd bury the child as Allan Junior in the family plot.

"I'm afraid it isn't up to you," he said slowly getting to his feet. He could see that she wasn't going to take the exhumation well, if it came to that. "If Holly wants to keep looking for her baby then she has that right."

Inez Wellington narrowed her gaze to pinpoints of darkness as she glowered up at him. "I won't see my brother's memory derogated any more than it has been. If Holly continues to behave irrationally, I shall see that she goes back to the sanitarium." She smiled at his surprise. "So she didn't tell you about her breakdown after Allan's death?" She leaned on her cane, a triumphant, self-satisfied look on her pinched face. "Holly committed herself. herself. Since she left the doctor's care without a proper release, those commitment papers are still valid." She smiled. "Let me show you out, Mr. Rawlins. Unless you want to see your client locked up indefinitely, you and I won't be crossing paths again." Since she left the doctor's care without a proper release, those commitment papers are still valid." She smiled. "Let me show you out, Mr. Rawlins. Unless you want to see your client locked up indefinitely, you and I won't be crossing paths again."

The intercom buzzed. He saw her glance at her watch, frown, then look at him. The intercom buzzed again. Someone was at the gate.

She walked to the front door, the intercom continuing to buzz, and waited for him. He could see the irritating sound was wearing on her and wondered why she didn't answer it.

Then it struck him: she didn't want him to know who it was!

He stopped to admire one of the commendations on the Wellington wall of fame. Dr. August Wellington had been honored for his work during World War II. How nice.

"Good day, Mr. Rawlins," Inez said pointedly as she opened the door.

"Shouldn't you get that?" The buzzing was getting to him as well. But now he really wanted to know who was at the gate. He waited, pretending to admire another one of the awards.

Glaring, she reached over and hit the intercom. That was the problem with gated communities. The d.a.m.ned guard at the gate.

"Yes?" she demanded.

The loud voice of the overweight guard who'd let Slade in echoed through the entryway. "Dr. O'Brien from Evergreen Inst.i.tute is down here. He says it's of utmost importance." It was obvious Dr. O'Brien had been giving the guard a hard time from the tone of the man's voice.

"Let him in," Inez snapped, then spun around, no doubt ready to do battle with Slade.

He didn't give her the pleasure. "Good day, Ms. Ms. Wellington," he said, smiling as he stepped past her through the open doorway. Wellington," he said, smiling as he stepped past her through the open doorway.

She slammed the door with a force that knocked the dogwood wreath from the door. Slade didn't bother to pick it up. Let Dr. O'Brien do it. Whoever he was. And what was so urgent? Slade wondered.

As he drove out through Paradise West, he pa.s.sed a silver BMW coming up the hill too fast. He only glimpsed the man behind the wheel, but he got the impression the good doctor was very upset about something. Was the Evergreen Inst.i.tute where Holly had been locked up?

Chapter Five.

Slade left, thinking how much he'd like to see Inez Wellington locked up indefinitely. But he couldn't shake the terrible feeling that Inez might be right. Holly had been inst.i.tutionalized? That had to have been right before he met her. Right before she told him she believed someone was trying to kill her.

He felt sick. He'd had doubts before about Holly, about her story, about the two of them. But now...

How could he believe anything Holly had ever told him? Or worse, anything that had happened between them? He felt like a fool. And on top of that, they'd had a baby together. A baby that was now probably buried under another man's name.

Why hadn't Holly mentioned she'd been inst.i.tutionalized?

All the doubts he'd had about her, along with half a million new ones, flooded him, drowning him. He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to believe her. To believe they'd shared a baby and that that baby was alive.

He felt torn and guilty. He'd dropped investigating his mother's murder, not because of the chief's threat, but because of Holly. He'd promised his mother he'd find her killer. It was a promise that had weighed heavily on him all these years. And now he'd discovered a lead, one he wasn't sure he trusted Chief Curtis to follow up on, and he'd bailed out on it to help a woman he couldn't trust, a woman he wasn't sure he'd ever known.

He stopped at the edge of town, trying to think, his head aching. He didn't know who to turn to, who he could trust. Curtis had been like a father to him, but right now Slade didn't trust even him. He couldn't shake the feeling that the chief knew more about Marcella Rawlins's infidelity than he was willing to tell him.

He put his face in his hands, eyes closed, head aching, trying not to think about Holly. But that was like telling himself not to breathe. He knew he should just wash his hands of this case. It was only bound to bring him heartache. It already had.

But if there was even a remote chance that Holly might not be crazy, might be telling the truth- The truth was, he admitted with a curse, he still loved the woman he'd met last Christmas, and, if possible, he wanted to find her again. If she still existed. If she'd ever existed.

He rubbed his hands over his face and sat up. Impulsively, he picked up his cell phone and dialed, determined not to let anything stop him. Dr. Delaney answered on the third ring.

"I'm sorry to bother you again," Slade quickly apologized. "It's about my mother." He could hear Christmas music in the background and faint voices and wished for a moment that he'd had the good sense to wait until after the holidays.

"Yes?" Fred Delaney asked, a slight impatience in his tone.

"I found a new lead in her murder," he said charging ahead blindly. "I think she was seeing someone. A man."

The last words hung in the air for a long moment.

"Marcella?" Delaney asked sounding surprised. "You don't mean having an affair?"

Slade took a breath. "Exactly."

The voices in the background quieted as if whoever was at the house with the doctor was also listening to that end of the conversation. Or maybe Slade just imagined it. The same way he'd imagined the Christmas music playing more softly in the background as if someone had turned it down.

"That doesn't even dignify an answer," Delaney said heatedly. "Obviously you didn't know your mother. Is that all?"

"Yes." It was the only thing he could think to say, surprised by how adamant Delaney had been.

The doctor hung up, the thud of the receiver echoing in Slade's ear.

So much for Dr. Delaney.

He started to put the cell phone down and changed his mind. He'd put this off long enough. He dialed Norma Curtis. She was home, but the chief wasn't. Just as he'd hoped.

"I'm so glad to see you," Norma said when she opened the door. She was a pet.i.te woman with snow-white hair, warm brown eyes that always seemed to twinkle, and a round, full face that belied her years.

"I hope you don't mind me stopping by," he said, stomping the snow from his boots.

"You know better than that. I have a pot of coffee on and I just baked sugar cookies. Would you like some?"

He smiled in answer. He'd never been able to turn down her sugar cookies. She'd gotten the recipe from his mother, and he was pretty sure she purposely always kept a batch around for him and Sh.e.l.ley during the holidays for that very reason.

She poured them each a cup of coffee, then motioned to a chair at the kitchen table. He took the cups of hot coffee over, placed them on the table and pulled out a chair for each of them. She followed with a plate of just-iced cookies.

"I suspect this isn't a social call," she said after he'd downed several cookies and sipped politely at his coffee rather than just jump right in with what he'd come for. "What's on your mind?"

He smiled his thanks. With Norma and the chief, he didn't have to beat around the bush. He appreciated that, since patience wasn't his long suit.

He pulled out his mother's letter and handed it to her. "I would imagine the chief already told you about this."

Norma opened the letter, taking note of who it was from, then read it slowly. When she finished, she carefully folded it and put it back in the envelope, avoiding his gaze.

"You knew," he said, surprised almost beyond words.

"Yes," she said. "I knew."

He could see she had no intention of telling him anything. "I've never believed that Roy Vogel killed my mother."

She nodded.

"This man, whoever he was, I feel it in my gut, he's the one who killed her. And all these years, he's gotten away with it."

She swallowed, tears filled her eyes as she looked away.

"If there is even a chance this man did it, don't you want to see him brought to justice? Please, help me. You were my mother's best friend."

"Oh, Slade."

He felt as if his heart would burst. "Then she was was having an affair?" having an affair?"

Norma looked at him, her gaze full of compa.s.sion and pain. "I don't know that it was an 'affair."' But the look in her eyes told him otherwise. "I only saw them once. I stopped by the house. Through the window, I saw her in the arms of a man. I only got a glimpse of him before she spotted me. I hurriedly left."

Definitely inconclusive evidence, even to him, that his mother had been having an affair. "That's it?"

"Your mother caught up to me as I was leaving and begged me not to tell anyone." She stopped, the words obviously coming hard. "Especially not your father."

"You never asked her about him?"

"Never. All I knew was that she met him on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons."

Tuesdays and Thursdays? The two days of the week that he and Sh.e.l.ley walked to the police station to meet their father and ride home with him. The two days of the week they all came home late.

Slade felt numb. "Does the chief know?"

She shook her head. "He wouldn't have believed it anyway."

"Then he didn't mention this letter to you?" Slade asked in surprise.

"No, did you expect him to?"

As a matter-of-fact, Slade had. He'd always thought there were no secrets between the chief and Norma.

"Do you have any idea who he might have been?" he asked her. "Any idea at all?"

She shook her head. "I never asked. Your mother never told me. It was better that way."