Chapter 4 - Rose's Last Condition
Caroline waited until Luke's breathing deepened, then slipped from bed with the photograph and the deed tucked beneath her robe.
The house carried every small sound. A floorboard complained at the bedroom door. The air conditioner clicked off. From the guest room came Diane's faint snore. She had decided it was too late to drive home, though her house was twelve minutes away.
Caroline descended the stairs barefoot.
Rose's old sewing room had become storage after her death. Luke disliked it because the walls were lined with shelves he had never bothered to understand. Caroline closed the door and turned on a desk lamp.
She had spent summers in this room while Rose repaired dresses for women across the county. Rose could look at a torn seam and tell whether it had failed through age, strain, or deliberate force. People are seams too, she used to say. Watch where they pull apart.
Caroline examined the photograph again.
If they ask for the garden, run.
The dark green sleeve beside Rose looked familiar. Caroline searched the shelves until she found a box of old church programs and newspaper clippings. Near the bottom was an article dated nineteen years earlier.
LOCAL BOOKKEEPER MISSING AFTER DEVELOPMENT FIRE.
The article reported that Elena Mercer, an accountant for Holloway Residential Group, had disappeared after a suspicious fire destroyed company records. Police believed Elena had stolen money and fled. Her sister, Rose Mercer, denied the accusation.
Elena was Caroline's mother.
Caroline had been eleven when adults told her that her mother died in a highway accident outside the state. Rose had raised her from that winter onward. There had been no funeral because the remains were said to be unrecoverable.
The article included a grainy photograph. Elena wore a dark green blouse.
Caroline sat very still.
A floorboard creaked in the hall.
She switched off the lamp.
Light appeared beneath the door. The handle turned once, but Caroline had locked it.
“Carrie?” Luke whispered.
She slid the article into her robe and held the deed behind her back.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for a heating pad.”
“Open the door.”
“I'm using the bathroom.”
Silence.
“There is no bathroom in that room.”
Caroline looked around. The window was painted shut. The closet was shallow. There was nowhere to hide the deed that Luke could not search.
Her gaze caught on Rose's antique dress form. Its padded linen torso stood on a wooden pole, wearing an unfinished winter coat. Caroline remembered Rose replacing the stuffing after mice nested inside it.
Luke knocked harder. “Open the door.”
Caroline tore loose three pins, opened the seam beneath the coat's arm, and pushed the deed deep into the dress form. She pinned the seam closed and slipped the photograph and article under a folded blanket.
“One minute.”
She flushed the nonexistent toilet by filling a metal basin from the utility sink and pouring it quickly down the drain. Then she opened the door.
Luke stood in the hallway wearing pajama pants. Diane was behind him in a white robe.
“The heating pad is upstairs,” he said.
“I forgot.”
His gaze moved past her to the shelves. “What is behind your back?”
She showed him her empty hands.
“Nothing.”
Diane studied Caroline's face. “You look ill.”
“I look awake.”
Luke entered the room. He opened boxes, lifted folded fabric, searched drawers. When he reached the dress form, Caroline's heart struck painfully against her ribs.
He touched the unfinished coat.
“Rose had terrible taste,” he said.
Diane's attention sharpened. “She had expensive taste. That wool is Italian.”
Luke pulled the coat off the form and tossed it aside. The pinned seam remained on the inner side, hidden against the linen torso. He knocked on the form's chest as if mocking it, then moved on.
Caroline did not breathe until they left.
At seven the next morning, she called Nora from the laundry room.
“I found an article about my mother,” Caroline said. “It says she disappeared after a Holloway fire.”
Nora's response was too careful. “Where did you find it?”
“Rose kept it. You knew my mother did not die in a car crash.”
“I knew the death certificate was delayed and issued under unusual circumstances.”
“That is a lawyer's way of avoiding the truth.”
“It is the only truth I can prove.”
“What is Holloway?”
Nora exhaled. “A development company that bought distressed properties, cleared them, and built subdivisions. Rose believed the company used shell loans and fraudulent liens to force owners into selling. Your mother kept their books.”
“And my house?”
“It sits on the last parcel Holloway never acquired. There is an old access easement beneath the rear boundary. If they control it, they can connect two planned developments and save millions.”
Caroline looked through the laundry room window. Diane stood in the garden on her phone, facing the lilacs.
“Luke's company works for Holloway,” Caroline whispered.
“It did. Until six months ago.”
“Why did they cancel his contracts?”
“Perhaps they did not cancel anything. Perhaps the financial crisis is theater.”
Caroline felt the room shift around her.
Luke had shown her overdue notices, angry emails, payroll reports. He had sat at the kitchen table with his face in his hands and said twelve families would lose their income if she refused him. She had nearly signed twice.
“Come to my office now,” Nora said. “Bring nothing except identification.”
The laundry room door opened.
Diane stood there.
Caroline ended the call.
“Who were you speaking to?” Diane asked.
“My doctor.”
“At seven in the morning?”
“Pregnant women do not keep business hours.”
Diane smiled, but her eyes traveled to the window and the garden beyond it.
“No,” she said. “Apparently they do not.”
Caroline left fifteen minutes later. Luke had taken her car keys from the bowl by the door, so she used the spare hidden in a kitchen tin. Halfway to Nora's office, a gray sport utility vehicle pulled out behind her.
It followed through three lights.
Nora called. Caroline put her on speaker.
“Do not come here,” Nora said. “Someone broke into my office last night.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. They took Rose's estate file.”
The gray vehicle accelerated.
Caroline turned onto a busy avenue. “I'm being followed.”
“Drive to the sheriff's substation on Garrison.”
“They may stop me before then.”
“Keep moving. I am calling Ortega.”
Caroline gripped the wheel. Her daughter kicked again, hard enough to make her gasp.
At the next intersection, a delivery truck blocked two lanes. Traffic stopped. The gray vehicle drew close behind her.
Its driver's door opened.
Mara stepped out in the pink dress.
May you like
She ran to Caroline's window and slapped both hands against the glass.
“Unlock it,” Mara shouted. “Luke knows about the second phone.”
