Blood Ties, page 12
When the light turned green, she sped on through the intersection, secure in the assumption that she had several days before she had to start worrying again.
Savannah wasn’t the only one getting an early start on the day. It had been pure luck that Mateo had shown up in the hotel parking lot just as she was walking out the front door. He pulled into a side parking lot and watched them bring up her car. Stunned that she was on the move so early in the morning, he whipped his car around and quickly followed her as she drove away from the hotel.
However, she wasn’t through with surprises for him. When he saw her drive through the gates of Graceland Memorial cemetery, he frowned. If he followed her in, theirs would be the only two vehicles in the entire place. There was no way he could follow her in there without being seen. Frustrated by the unexpected twist, he scrambled to find a place where he would be able to see her the moment she came out and settled down to wait.
This time, there was no need for Savannah to stop at the office for directions. She still had her map from the day before yesterday. She drove as far as she could go, then took her coffee and croissant, and got out of the car, locking it behind her before heading for her mother’s grave and a bench beneath a shade tree about twenty yards away from it.
She hurried toward the site, praying it was still devoid of fresh flowers. To her relief, the ground was bare of anything but the grass, which meant whoever was putting out the flowers had yet to arrive. She took a quick look around, saw nothing but gulls and a seemingly endless array of grave markers, then moved toward the bench and settled down to finish her on-the-go meal.
It didn’t take long for a small bird to drop down from the upper branches of the tree under which she was sitting and start pecking the ground for crumbs from her croissant. Just like the day she’d walked to the park adjoining her hotel and fed the gulls part of her sandwich, she was sacrificing part of her breakfast to even more birds. What was it about birds in a city? Like ants, they must have learned long ago that wherever people were, crumbs were bound to follow.
She polished off the croissant and the last of her coffee, then tossed the empty cup into the sack and looked around for a garbage bin, only to realize how dumb that was. The only people inhabiting this place no longer had a need for food, and she doubted the people who came to visit were in the mood to eat.
She tucked her trash into a corner of her bag and then reached for her cell phone. She could give Holly a call to help pass the time. But her call to Holly went straight to voice mail, which meant her sister was probably on a mission of her own.
Resigning herself to a solitary wait, she pulled her journal out of the bag and began flipping through the pages again, even though she was coming to know some of the stories by heart. When she got to the place marked Your First Day at School, she stopped and began to read.
Your mother, Hannah, had brushed your hair until it looked like silk. We still hadn’t cut it beyond an occasional trim, and it was hanging below your shoulders. When you dressed up to go to church, you honestly looked like a little angel, with your porcelain-doll face and big blue eyes, wearing pretty little dresses and all that white-blond hair. But on this morning you came striding into the kitchen, wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of the pretty outfit your mother had picked out for you, and asked for her to help you fix your hair.
I could tell she was a bit dismayed that you’d chosen not to wear the new dress, but she didn’t mention it. She did, however, point out that she’d already brushed your hair, and reminded you of the blue barrettes she’d put in it to keep it out of your face.
But you stood firm, handing her the hairbrush and one of those twisty things you girls used to put up your hair, and asked her to please put it in a ponytail. When she asked why, you said, “Because I know I’m gonna have so much fun at recess, I don’t want my hair getting in the way.” We had to laugh. It was typical of your positive attitude. Then Holly and Maria came into the kitchen, both wearing jeans and T-shirts, and both of them with their hair up in ponytails that they’d done for themselves, and it quickly became clear. You might have been the baby of the family, but there wasn’t a thing that Holly or Maria did that you didn’t try to do, as well.
So Hannah took that hairbrush, put your hair up in a ponytail and then grabbed the camera. You know the picture. It’s the one hanging in the hall of you, Holly and Maria, all dressed alike, hair alike, holding hands.
And that’s how you three have gone through life. So whatever doubts you’re going through while you’re reading these words, remember your sisters. They’ll always have your back.
The sound of a small engine suddenly starting caught Savannah’s attention. She looked up and saw a grounds worker starting up a Weed Eater. As long as the grass kept growing, the work here was never really done. She closed the journal and dropped it back in her bag. It was odd how much comfort she got from the stories.
She glanced at her watch, surprised by how much time had passed. It was almost ten o’clock. The beige cargo pants and pink cotton pullover she’d chosen this morning were comfortable, but she was tired of sitting. Deciding to walk around the area a little, she got up and stretched, slightly stiff from having sat so long.
Just as she started to walk away, she noticed a blue Chevrolet coming up the road. She paused, watching…hoping. When the driver parked a few feet from where Savannah had left her own car, her heart skipped a quick beat. An older woman emerged, carrying something wrapped in green paper. Savannah could see it from where she was standing. Still, it didn’t mean this was “her” person. She didn’t even know whether the person leaving the flowers on Chloe Stewart’s grave was male or female.
She continued to watch, taking note of everything about the woman—from her slightly stooped shoulders to the neat pale green pantsuit she was wearing. She was taller than Savannah, which meant nothing. She had no idea which side of her family had been responsible for the gene that had influenced her height or lack thereof.
As the woman came closer, Savannah could finally see her face clearly and the somber expression she was wearing. If she’d seen Savannah, she gave no hint of the fact. Her gaze was focused on the rows of graves, and she was going to pass within twenty yards of where Savannah was standing.
Savannah wanted to call out. Ask her who she was and where she was going, but she made herself wait. Those answers would come soon enough if the woman went to her mother’s grave.
Even though Savannah had been waiting for over two hours for this moment, when the woman finally stopped and knelt down beside Chloe Stewart’s grave, she was stunned.
This was the person she’d been waiting for, and all of a sudden she was scared. Who was she, and what would happen if Savannah introduced herself?
She made herself move. The first step was the hardest, but once she began, it was all she could do not to run, until finally she was there.
“Hello,” she said.
The older woman jumped, obviously startled, then quickly rose, facing Savannah with a slight frown.
“Yes?”
Savannah pointed to the flowers lying against the tombstone.
“Those are very pretty.”
The woman sighed and looked back at the bouquet. “Yes, they are.” She brushed at the knees of her pants and began to walk away.
“Wait!” Savannah said, hurrying to catch up. “I need to ask you something…something about the woman buried here.”
The woman’s frown deepened. “Who are you? Why are you asking this? What do you want?”
Savannah clutched her purse to keep her hands from shaking.
“My name is Savannah Slade. A few days ago I learned that I was actually born Sarah Stewart. Chloe Stewart was my mother, and since I have no memory of her, I was hoping, since you obviously knew her, that maybe you would be willing to tell me a little about her.”
The woman jerked as if she’d been slapped, then clutched Savannah’s shoulders, her fingers curling so tightly into her flesh it was almost painful.
“Are you serious? Are you truly Chloe’s child?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure of it. I have the birth certificate and everything to prove it.”
“Sweet Lord,” the older woman said, and then staggered.
Savannah caught her arm, steadying her before she fell. “Are you all right? There’s a bench just over there. Would you like to sit down?”
The woman nodded blindly, letting Savannah lead her back to the bench where she’d been sitting.
“Here you go. It’s a bit cooler here, with the shade,” Savannah said, and then sat down beside her.
The moment she sat, the woman began to stare at her intently, as if searching for confirmation.
“You’re truly Chloe’s daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. Did you know her well?”
The woman swayed where she sat, then reached for Savannah’s hand. “Not as well as I should have, or I would have known about you.”
“I’m sorry. What do you mean?”
“My name is Phyllis Palmer. Chloe was my daughter from my first marriage, which makes me—”
Savannah gasped. “My grandmother! It makes you my grandmother! I never thought… I wouldn’t let myself hope…” She wanted to hug her, but didn’t know what the woman was feeling.
Phyllis turned loose of Savannah’s hand and cupped the side of her face instead. “You don’t look a lot like her, but you have her eyes. Chloe’s eyes were so big and blue….” She began to weep. “I should have known. I should have known. What happened to you? Did she give you up for adoption after she became ill? I don’t understand.”
Savannah hesitated, but there was no easy way to say this.
“It’s actually kind of a great big mess. Chloe had an affair with a very rich man. He didn’t know about me until she found out she was sick and dying. To his credit, when he learned of my existence, he quickly came to her rescue. I was two. He was going to take her into his family, care for her until the end and claim me as his heir. When his family found out about her and about me, they were not happy. It had something to do with the way their money was dispersed throughout the family. It’s always to the oldest child of each generation, and my sudden arrival on the scene meant that I was about to become the next heir.”
“I don’t understand,” Phyllis said. “Chloe left a letter with a lawyer. Upon her death, the letter was to be mailed to me. When the authorities finally located me, she’d been dead for over a week, but she said nothing about what happened to you.”
“Ah,” Savannah said. “That explains the gap between her death and when she was buried, which was something I learned as I tried to find her grave.”
“Yes, yes, I was horrified,” Phyllis said. “No, devastated. We’d been at odds ever since my marriage to my second husband. She hated him. Swore he tried to…tried to molest her, and I didn’t believe her. To my everlasting dismay, I chose him over her, and she never forgave me. She left the day after we fought, and I never heard from her again.”
Phyllis took Savannah’s hand again, needing the physical contact to believe what was happening was true.
“So many years lost with her, and now so many years lost with you. What have I done? What have I done? Obviously she didn’t want me to have anything to do with you or she would have called when she knew she was dying.”
“There’s more,” Savannah said. “My birth father died in a car accident soon after she’d told him about me. The day she found out my birth father was dead, she got a phone call from his family, warning her not to try and make a claim on the family fortune on my behalf. They told her if she did, they would kill me, just like they’d killed him.”
Phyllis gasped. “What are you saying?”
“That my mother gave me away to keep me alive, and then died alone to make sure no one would ever know where I’d gone.”
Nine
Phyllis Palmer was stunned. She couldn’t wrap her head around the implications.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes, ma’am, very serious.”
Now Chloe’s refusal to tell her about the baby made sense, Phyllis thought.
“Do you know the name of your father? Is it on your birth certificate?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.”
Phyllis gave Savannah’s hand a quick squeeze. “Please, I would love it if you would call me Grandma. Chloe was my only child. After she died, I lost all hope of ever being a grandmother.”
Savannah threw her arms around the woman’s neck and hugged her.
“I never had a grandma before, so this is a first for both of us.”
Phyllis held Savannah close. “Dear girl, my dear little girl. You have made me very happy.”
Savannah couldn’t stop smiling. “There are so many things I want to ask you. I don’t know what your schedule is like, but if you could spare some time for me to—”
“Now. Tomorrow. Anytime. For the rest of my life.”
Savannah’s smile widened. “I choose now.”
Phyllis dug a tissue out of her purse and began wiping at her tears. “But not here,” she said. “This place always makes me sad, and today I am filled with gladness. Will you come to my home?” Then she stopped, struck by an old memory. “Oh, my goodness! I just remembered something.”
“What?” Savannah asked.
“When I went through Chloe’s apartment to pack up her clothes for the Salvation Army, I found some things…mementos I suppose, that I guessed were special to her. Even though I didn’t know the significance of them, I still couldn’t bear to throw them away. I kept them in a box in my attic. There are a lot of pictures of her with a very handsome young man.” She ran her fingers through the tips of Savannah’s hair. “A man with hair the same color as yours.”
Savannah started to shake. “My father?”
“Possibly…probably. Anyway, I think you should have them.”
Savannah jumped up. “Yes! Now is perfect! That’s my car parked next to yours. Are you okay to drive? I mean, you’re not too upset or anything?”
Phyllis stood, straightened her jacket and then dug her keys out of her bag.
“Thanks to you, I’m better than I’ve been in years, and yes, I’m fine to drive, although you’re a dear for asking. You can follow me to my house. I don’t live far.”
They held hands all the way to their cars, talking as they went.
Phyllis was already buckled up and starting her car before she remembered Savannah hadn’t told her the name of her father, then shrugged it off. She would find out when they got to the house.
Savannah put her car in gear and began to follow her grandmother out of the cemetery. As happy as she was, she knew that once she told her grandmother the name of her birth father, Phyllis was bound to realize that the danger to her newfound granddaughter still existed, and in a very big way.
When Mateo saw cars coming out the cemetery gates and realized one of them was his mark, he slapped the steering wheel with relief. This sitting around was driving him crazy.
“Finally!” he said, and started his engine. But instead of turning back toward the hotel, she turned in the opposite direction and quickly slipped into the flow of traffic. “Now where are you going, mija?”
He had to hurry before he lost her, then made sure to keep at least one car between them at all times. It wasn’t until she turned off the main thoroughfare and into a residential neighborhood that he realized she was actually following the blue Chevrolet in front of her. Once again, she’d surprised him. He’d thought that the visit to the cemetery was going to be the weak spot—the place where routine began. But she hadn’t gone back to the hotel like she had before. All he could do now was continue to follow and hope he wasn’t spotted.
He was about a block behind when he saw the blue Chevrolet make a right turn into a driveway. Savannah took the same turn and pulled up behind the other driver. He tapped on the brakes, slowing down his approach to make sure they went into the house together. He was about a half block away when they got out. But when he saw them embrace, he began to smile. Maybe this could turn out to be a possible chink in the Slade woman’s armor.
In Mateo’s line of business, it was always good to find more than one means of persuasion. Collateral damage was often useful in getting someone to see things his way. He drove slowly past the house as the women went inside, made a quick mental note of the address, then had to find a place to park that would not draw attention to his car. He needed to call Stoss. It might interest his employer to know of this new twist. Stoss would know people who could give him quick access to information on who this older woman was and if she mattered in the scheme of things.
He drove a couple of blocks up, then turned around so he could watch the front of the house and parked in front of an empty house with a for-sale sign in the front yard. He didn’t know how long this was going to take, and a strange car parking for an extended period of time in a family neighborhood often raised an alarm. If there was some kind of neighborhood watch, or someone questioned him as to his presence, he could always claim he was waiting for a Realtor to show him the house. Satisfied with his plan, he reached for his phone.
Joseph eyed the gaggle of paparazzi gathered around the restaurant as his driver pulled the limo up to the front walk. He was meeting the mayor for lunch and wondered what rumor they were chasing now. It was always something. Still, he had a public image to maintain, so he smiled and waved briefly as he got out of his limo and walked toward the entrance.
“Mr. Stoss. Mr. Stoss. Is there any truth to the rumor that you’re going to buy Condor Airlines?”
Joseph was past ever being surprised by the media these days. Someone somewhere along the chain of command, either on his payroll or that of the bankrupt airline, had obviously spilled the beans for a nice chunk of change.
