Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel Page 2

  Her legs trembled and she sagged against the wall. She wasn’t sure she could go on. It took her several minutes to pull herself together before she could face whoever was in the kitchen. She’d had lots of practice putting on a happy face for others over the past few years.

  When she appeared in the doorway, conversation stopped for a beat and all eyes turned to her, then a plump, gray haired woman rushed towards her.

  “Mama?” Andi cried out and blinked in surprise. The breath rushed out of her lungs, and she reached out for the older woman, fingers clutching at her mother’s blouse.

  “Oh, baby! You poor thing! I’m so sorry!” The older woman gathered her daughter in ample arms, and rocked her gently. As Andi’s sobs dissolved into hiccups, her mother guided her to the table, where she sank onto a wooden chair as everyone bustled around her. The feel of her mother’s arm around her shoulders comforted her, and Andi leaned in to her, so glad, so relieved that she was there. Her mother’s hand rested on hers, protective.

  The whole thing felt like an awful, horrible dream … except for the fact that this – this experience brought her mama to her. Live and in person, not a staticky voice on the telephone. She gazed at her mother as if she were a mirage that might evaporate if she looked away. Confusion bubbled to the surface. “But how did you—”

  Her mother motioned across the kitchen table. “Your neighbor, Mrs. Harrison, called me as soon as she heard, and I drove to St. Louis and took the first flight they had. I just got here about ten minutes ago.”

  Gradually, Andi’s view of the room expanded.

  Mrs. Harrison, the retired librarian from next door sat across the table, perched on the edge of her seat like a bird ready to snatch a crumb. “Luckily, I remembered your mother’s name. Didn’t take me long to find the right Martha Denton in Missouri.” Her small hazel eyes were bright and intense. “I brought a casserole.”

  Jennie Crawford, Chad’s receptionist, looked stricken. A sprig of blonde hair poked out of her usually perfectly coiffed curls. Her naked lips trembled slightly. She half-stood and pushed a plate of goodies towards Andi, “I made some of my wicked good cinnamon rolls.”

  Andi’s mother smiled at the younger woman and said, “They are delicious. I have to get the recipe from you.”

  “The secret is scalded milk.” The blonde’s cheeks turned pink as she looked around the table. Her gaze settled on Andi. Her lower lip trembled, then she said, “I can’t believe he’s gone. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you,” Andi whispered. The room swam, and she focused on breathing again, one breath at a time. It was the only thing she was confident she could do at that moment in time. Someone slid a cup of coffee in front of her, and she gripped it with both hands to absorb the warmth.

  Carol Graves, one of the local society types who served with Andi on the Friends of the Library Board, cleared her throat and smiled when Andi looked up. Her mouth opened, but then closed without a word when Mrs. Harrison began talking about storm damage from the night before. No one mentioned Chad. What could they say? Martha sat next to Andi and clutched her arm with both hands as if she were an apparition that might disappear into thin air.

  God, it felt good to be held. Andi missed her mother even more than she’d realized. Gray streaked the older woman’s hair, more than last Christmas. No, Christmas before last. With a start, she realized she hadn’t been home in over a year. Why had she let Chad keep her from going?

  An assortment of pies and casseroles and plates of cookies covered every available flat surface. The aroma of homemade chicken noodle soup mingled with the sweet cinnamon smell of apple dumplings. Comfort food. Her hand dropped to her hip, where all the calories would land.

  She jumped when her cell phone chirped. Everyone’s heads swiveled from her to the phone on the counter and back again. No one ever called her, besides Chad. Her mother started to stand, but Andi put her hand out as she pushed away from the table. “I’ve got it.” Her voice sounded small in the big kitchen.

  She glanced at the screen. Anonymous. She hesitated, but swiped the screen.

  The gruff voice on the other end of the line got straight to the point. “Detective Gerald Johnson with the Buccaneer Bay Police Department. Coast Guard is out already. No sign of remains yet.”

  She sucked in air and held it for a beat, then shivered as a chill ran down her spine. “You’ll let me know?” Until that moment, she hadn’t considered that the fall might not have killed him. But the cliff … the rocks. Even if he survived the fall, the icy Atlantic would’ve claimed him quickly. “And what if they don’t find him?”

  He took a drink of something, swallowed loudly, then answered, “We’ll find him, all right. Don’t you worry about that.”

  Silence echoed in her ear. Unease curled up in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the screen. Finally, she sat the phone on the counter. She took a deep breath, then turned back to her guests. Everyone stared at her expectantly.

  She struggled for words, then finally murmured, “Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me.” She couldn’t do this anymore. Her vision narrowed. Darkness closed in on her, and she fought to maintain focus. No one met her eyes.

  The linen tablecloth needed to be ironed.

  Sunlight reflected in a chip in the red glass vase centered on the table.

  A deli tray sat on the breakfast bar, the plastic wrap pulled back.

  The sun shone brightly through the vertical blinds on the sliding glass door, but wet spots still glistened on the deck.

  A dog barked in the distance.

  And the tunnel began to close.

  Her mother grasped her arms and guided her onto a chair, then herded everyone else out of the room. “Thank you all for coming. We do appreciate it so much, but my daughter needs her rest now.” The hushed tones of conversation drifted out with the small group like a cloud, and finally the two women were alone.

  “I take it that was the police?” The older woman stepped close and rested her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, then massaged them gently. “Honey, I don’t know how much you remember …”

  Her voice trailed off and she waited. Andi blinked, not sure how much was real and what was the product of her overactive imagination. A chill ran up her spine at the hazy memory of the accident.

  A little voice whispered, it wasn’t an accident.

  But that wasn’t true. It was an accident! Her heart threatened to burst. Guilt ate at her gut. For so long, she hid the signs of abuse, ashamed of her weakness, afraid to leave, afraid to be alone. Yet she had been alone, isolated from her friends and family.

  And now she was truly alone.

  Tears filled her eyes and she felt as if she’d been sucker punched. She swiveled to face her mother. “Oh, God, Mama, he’s dead, isn’t he?”

  Martha nodded and Andi leaned back into her plumpness, letting her mother envelop her in a hug. Her mother whispered, “What did the officer say?”

  “He said they’re looking for the body.” Andi melted into her mother, warm and soft and safe. Real tears began to flow and deep, racking sobs shook her body. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to stop. Feeling sorry for herself would do no good. Chad had been her husband, her life, but he had also been cruel.

  Andi pushed herself to her feet and turned toward her mother. Martha held her daughter and rocked back and forth. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Andi sucked in a deep breath. “I—I don’t know what happened—”

  Her mother gently pressed a finger to her daughter’s lips, “Shush, baby. What’s done is done.”

  Andi snapped her head up to look into her mother’s eyes. Did she know? Did she suspect there was more to it than a simple accident? No judgment lived in those big brown eyes, just love. Her mother held her hand sandwiched between hers, and memories of Andi’s childhood tripped over themselves in a rush to
the surface. Making peanut butter cookies. Mama’s hands balling the dough, criss-crossing the tops with a fork. The quilt they pieced when she was in high school, made from her favorite childhood clothes.

  That was so long ago. She sniffled. “What am I going to do now? What happens next?”

  “You can always move back home.” Martha gently squeezed her daughter’s arm and said, “But first things first. We’ve got to get the arrangements made and then we’ll get through the funeral together.”

  “But there’s no body yet.” Andi turned away and lifted the coffee cup to her lips, savoring the warmth and bitterness. The liquid burned all the way to her stomach.

  Somehow, she would get through this. She had to. The thought of being alone overwhelmed her. But for right now, all she had to do was hold it together until they found his body, and then get through the funeral.

  She turned, looked over the lip of her cup at her mother and asked, “Does his mother know?”

  “The police notified her. She called here while you were asleep and I talked to her. Told her we’d call her when the arrangements were made.”

  Andi’s eyebrows arched, “And she was okay with that?”

  Martha harrumphed and stood up, then tugged her simple blue dress down to straighten the wrinkles and said, “Guess she had to be.”

  The corners of Andi’s mouth twitched up as her mother turned away. Mama never had liked the overbearing and snooty Cora Adams.

  She’d been so focused on her own situation, she hadn’t even thought to ask about her sister. She asked, “How’s Mandy?”

  “She’s fine. Busy as ever. Little Jakey is running a fever, so she had to stay home and take care of him.” Martha busied herself at the counter, wiping crumbs away with a quick hand, then turned to face her daughter, “But she wants you to know she’s thinking about you and she’d been here if she could’ve. She sends her prayers.”

  “Her family comes first,” Andi regretted not being closer to her family. Moving away when she got married had been difficult. She and Chad had such a whirlwind romance, that summer after her junior year in college. She’d shocked everyone when she didn’t return to college that fall and got married instead. Chad asked her to marry him and move to Maine, and she’d been over the moon.

  Martha frowned and sighed, “Don’t be petty, hon.”

  “I’m not. Really, I understand.” Andi got up and refilled both coffee cups, then added creamer and sugar to them and stirred.

  Martha put her hand on her daughter’s and shook her head. “Honey, you don’t have to do everything for me. I’m not Chad.”

  Andi froze. With the mere mention of his name, grief washed over her like a wave. Her husband was gone. She nodded and walked out of the room, stood in the living room for a moment, then lowered herself into a chair. What would life be like after Chad? She’d never been alone.

  Her mother followed her and sat on the couch. The two women sipped their coffee in silence. Andi gazed out the window and wondered how she ended up here. She’d been so happy when she’d married Chad, so eager to please him. But as he grew more demanding, she struggled to keep up appearances. She’d been careful not to let anyone know how difficult her life had become. She couldn’t let her mother know the marriage had been a mistake, no more than she could let the women from the Library Board know that her handsome husband was a petty bully behind closed doors. Even with him gone, she didn’t want anyone to pity her.

  After the coffee was gone, Andi stood and took Mama’s cup, then walked towards the kitchen. On the way, she caught her reflection in the hall mirror. Her dark ponytail fell to the center of her back, because Chad liked long hair and didn’t want it cut. Long bangs hid her blue eyes, and her round face made her look plumper than she was. Chad called her Chipmunk Cheeks. Claimed it was a pet name, but it hurt and he knew it.

  “Need any help, honey?” Martha called from the living room.

  “No,” Andi answered, as she turned away from her reflection and walked into the kitchen, “Just filling the dishwasher.”

  Her cell phone chirped again. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and glanced at the caller ID. Anonymous. She answered.

  “Mrs. Adams?” The voice on the other end was gruff.

  Her stomach fluttered with unease. “Yes.”

  “Detective Johnson. You comin’ down or not?”

  She straightened and the muscles in her back tensed. “Did you find him?”

  “Not yet. Told you the Coast Guard has already got cutters out searching. Half o’ Buccaneer Bay is out on the water helping search.”

  She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. “Um, sure. Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Martha held out her hand and motioned for the phone. Andi blinked, then turned it over.

  The scowl on Martha’s face matched her voice when she spoke. “Who is this?” Her eyes narrowed as she listened. “You may be the law, but I’m her mother. The poor child had the shock of her life last night and the doctor had to give her pills to help her sleep.”

  Martha pressed her lips into a thin line as she listened, then she broke in. “I’ll bring her down in a bit, if she’s up to it.”

  Andi’s eyes widened at her mother’s insolence. Her mother pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it, then handed it to Andi and shrugged. “I don’t know how to turn the gol-danged thing off.”

  Andi took the phone and pressed the red button, then looked at her mother with wide eyes. “I can’t believe you spoke to him like that.”

  Martha’s heavy eyebrows scrunched together. “And I can’t believe he never did nothing about your good-for-nothing husband.”

  Andi’s eyes widened in surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mother held up her hand, palm out. “Don’t want to hear anymore about it, but maybe we should go down to the harbor and see if they can find the SOB’s body.”

  3

  Though her mother insisted on driving, Andi convinced her that she could get them to the harbor quicker and would know where to park. They drove down Main Street, rounded a curve and the harbor appeared before them. Tall masts sprung up from the boats like a forest of toothpicks, and white sails billowed in the salty breeze. As they turned into the parking lot, Andi was blown away by the number of cars already there. Parking would be at a premium after the tourists arrived after Memorial Day, but early May was still quiet. She drove down three aisles before she found a parking space.

  They got out of the car and walked towards a clump of people gathered on the pier. An unmarked police car slanted across the two end spaces.

  As they walked, the crowd parted for them. Several folks murmured their apologies and sympathies, but some simply stared and others whispered behind their hands.

  Andi pointed to a long white boat with a red stripe along its side. “There. That’s a Coast Guard boat.”

  The two women walked out to the end of the pier, towards the boat. With every step, Andi’s dread grew. As they reached the end, a thick-set older man stared at them. He stood facing them with his feet planted far apart and his arms crossed over his chest.

  He pointed at the sun hanging low over the little village of Buccaneer Bay. “Wondered if you were ever going to get here.”

  Martha opened her mouth to speak, but Andi placed a hand on her forearm and murmured, “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough day.”

  He narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down. “You remember anything new about last night?”

  She shook her head. “Have you had any luck today?”

  He swept his hand to indicate the harbor. “Coast Guard is running a grid. Been having trouble all day ‘cause so many folks is out there trying to help and doing nothing but gettin’ in the way.”

  Her mom stepped forward. “We don’t want to be in the way. Is there someplace we can wait?
”

  He snorted. “Right here.”

  Andi gazed out into the harbor. He was right. A constant parade of boats flowed out of the harbor, and nearly all of them turned north. She lost sight of them as they rounded the bend, but she knew they would cruise along the craggy cliffs that rose up out of the sea to the north of Buccaneer Bay. That might be a good thing, because the cutters were big and couldn’t get in as close as some of the smaller vessels, but she hoped they were careful. Rocks jutted up out of the ocean at odd angles, and some lurked just below the surface, waiting to tear a hole in an unsuspecting boat.

  One of the waitresses from the Black Sails Diner brought Andi a cup of black coffee, which she gladly accepted. She wrapped her fingers around the warmth and sipped occasionally, glad for the bitterness. It fit her mood. Seagulls swooped around her, snatching crumbs dropped by those who hung around, hoping to catch some news. The people were as bad as the seagulls, she thought. Looking for crumbs.

  After some time, she became aware of Martha’s heavy sighs. Andi glanced at her mother and noticed her shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I’m sorry, Mama. You need to go sit down. Do you want to take the car home?”

  Her mother shook her head. “Of course not. I’ll stay here with you.”

  A young female officer with a long blonde ponytail stepped forward. “Ma’am, if you’d like to wait up at the Coast Guard Station, there are some benches up there.”

  Her mother glanced back towards the white building with sun-bleached red shingles near the base of the pier, then looked at Andi. “Want to go wait there?”

  Andi shook her head. She looked from her mother to the blue water, then back again. “I’d rather wait here, but you go on ahead.”

  The young officer said, “I’ll walk with you.”

  Her mom’s eyebrows rose and Andi nodded, then turned to gaze out at the sea again. Her eyes swept the harbor, looking for any sign that anyone might have found anything. She watched boats come in and boats go out. Felt the warmth being chased away by the lengthening shadows, and shivered. A part of her still expected to wake up and find this was all a bad dream. She paced the wooden deck. Why hadn’t they found his body yet?