Family Skeletons Page 13

  The news van braked, and a woman looked at her from the passenger’s side. Her eyes were dark-brown and hard, and the red highlights in her hair appeared natural, as did the gray mixed in with it. If her eyes and features would soften, just a little, she might be pretty.

  “Laurel Corday?”

  Sunny nodded, hoping everybody would stay inside the vehicle.

  “Would you consent to a filmed interview?”

  She smiled politely. “No, thank you. I don’t know anything, anyway. The action’s down there.” She looked toward the beach and a flash bulb went off.

  You guys are fast. I didn’t even see a camera.

  She looked back at the van. The photographer was sitting behind the passenger’s seat. The camera lowered, and he stared impersonally back at her. Wryly, she remembered Tom’s advice about not posing for pictures. At least she was in jeans and long sleeves and not showing off her colorful limbs.

  “Was it your father’s skeleton that was found?” the woman asked.

  “We don’t know whose it is yet.”

  “Did you see it?”

  I almost fell on top of it. “It was only partially uncovered.”

  “What part?”

  Sunny hesitated, then told herself not to hesitate. “The hand.”

  “Did it look like your father’s hand?”

  Don’t laugh, Sunny, and don’t get mad. She’s fishing for a reaction, any reaction. Don’t give her one. “No.”

  “What did it feel like, being that close to a skeleton that might be your father’s?”

  “I don’t have an answer to that question. Excuse me. I’m going back inside.”

  She mounted the porch stairs at an unhurried pace.

  “Who was that leaving as we were arriving?”

  “Just a friend,” she answered without looking back. She entered the house. Jonathan stood in the parlor’s doorway, out of their visitors’ sight. She closed the door behind her and returned his gaze as she waited to hear the van’s departure. After a short moment, she heard it driving away.

  “I’m glad you didn’t show yourself,” she said. “You would’ve fueled their interest.”

  “That’s what Ryan said. We could hear you from the porch. You seemed to be handling yourself well.”

  I’ve had practice.

  Jonathan added, “But weren’t her questions, uh...”

  “Unintelligent and meant to provoke? Yes. The trick is not to react. Be firm and polite and give them nothing.”

  “Bore them to death.”

  She grinned. “That’s a good way of putting it. You’ll do well.”

  He opened the front door, and they stepped outside but stayed within the shelter of the porch where they wouldn’t be readily seen. The van’s occupants had disembarked and were wandering the beach cliff. Two members started down the newly carved path that the Corday house occupants hadn’t yet been allowed on. It appeared to be an easy descent. One of them was aiming a video camera as he descended.

  “Hendricks seems to have no problem with their company,” Jonathan remarked.

  Good. Maybe we’ll see him on TV tonight instead of me.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he added.

  His question was rhetorical, but she answered it anyway. “Because you met him once and that’s all it took. He’s an easy read.”

  He turned her way and grinned. Then his eyes moved beyond her and his smile died.

  Catching his change in expression, she turned to look at the road heading in from the highway. A big blue sanitary cubicle sat atop the back of a wide-bed truck. The vehicle traveled slowly along the unpaved road, its cargo gently rocking within its restraining bonds.

  “There goes the neighborhood,” Jonathan said under his breath.

  Sunny looked pained. “Do they have to?”

  Though her question was also rhetorical, he answered it. His head bobbed once in a resigned nod. “Yes, they have to. I don’t like it either, but there are some needs one can’t ignore.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tuesday morning, Marcus sat behind the wheel of the shiny black coupe with its engine running. He’d been there long enough that he was staring into space. Ryan still stood on the porch.

  “One more time,” Ryan said to Sunny. “Come home with me. I’ll even let you have the front seat.” Since direct orders hadn’t worked, he was now asking nicely. And repeatedly.

  “No,” Sunny answered again. “For the last time. And don’t forget to pick up my car. If it stays there any longer, they might sell it again.”

  “You can pick it up yourself and then drive it back here. If you’re still needed up here, that is.”

  “And argue with you again? No thanks. Marcus, will you get this guy out of here? He’s driving me nuts.”

  Ryan didn’t appear to have heard her. “I understand your wanting to stick around. I wish I could, too. I’m glad Jonathan’s got the time, but he can’t stay forever either. At least promise me you’ll come home when he has to leave.”

  “We’ll talk about it then. Get in the car, Ryan.”

  “Sunny, you’re being evasive. I don’t—”

  “Yes, I am. Because you’re being—”

  “Get in the car, Ryan,” Marcus said. “You keep stalling, we’re going to hit traffic. It’s as bad getting into the city as it is getting out of it.”

  “Yeah, in a minute. Sunny, sweetheart—”

  “Ryan,” Jonathan said, “get in the car. Go home. You’re driving me nuts, too.”

  Sunny got the giggles. He really said that? And she’d once thought him conventional to a fault?

  Ryan looked at each person in turn, at the ocean, gave a one-syllable expletive an extra syllable, then got inside the car. Marcus accelerated and they were gone.

  Jonathan gave Sunny a long look. “Do you realize how many people are concerned with that pretty little neck of yours?”

  Caught off guard, she dropped her gaze, and then she opened the house door and went inside. “More than I think I deserve.”

  “That’s one person’s opinion. And she’s in the minority.” Still on the porch, he called after her. “If you don’t have anything pressing right now, how about walking down to the beach with me and getting told off by Hendricks again?”

  She stopped, grinned, and turned around. “Okay.”

  But it wasn’t Hendricks in charge today. It was Tom. And he already had company. Mavis had been sitting on the ground atop the bluff, inside the rounded part of the horseshoe near a clump of reeds, and they didn’t see her until she stood. Evidently this wasn’t a working day because she wore baggy denims and a sweatshirt, but she still carried the familiar oversized purse on a strap across her shoulder.

  “Hi, Sunny. Jonathan.” Mavis seemed unsure of herself, and she seemed to have difficulty meeting Sunny’s eyes. “One of your friends was loading suitcases in his car when I drove by, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Mavis had been a friend for as long as Sunny could remember, and she was uncomfortably aware of the distance between them. The chasm would continue to widen until it was bridged, and Sunny suddenly felt angry. She’d be damned if she’d let her miserable excuse for a father take anything more from her. Or from Mavis Fairly, if Sunny could prevent it.

  With a jerk of her head she motioned toward the south side of the bluff, full of cars but empty of people. “Walk with me? We need to talk.”

  Not waiting for a response, she walked away, passing the ugly potty sitting conspicuously on the edge. Some of the numerous vehicles were official, some not. It looked like a disorganized parking lot. The new path of raw earth leading down to the beach was as wide as a one-car driveway. Down in the cove the tents had been set aside, but not broken down and packed up. The whole scene was an abomination, and Sunny hated it.

  Though Mavis had hesitated, she now caught up and fell in step. She had her hand inside her shoulder bag, probably searching for cigarettes.

  Sunny spoke without looki
ng at her. “This one-night stand of yours happened a long time ago,” she said mildly. “Don’t you think you’ve punished yourself enough by now?”

  No answer. Mavis was still fumbling in her bag. Then she came to an abrupt halt. “I did it again. I forgot that I quit.” She looked desperate enough to cry.

  Sunny stopped and faced her, but the older woman wouldn’t meet her eyes. It was Mavis’s guilt, so therefore her problem to deal with, but Sunny refused to give up.

  “From what I’ve heard about Franklin, that was not unusual behavior for him. It takes two, of course, but Roberta wasn’t hurt—at least not that I know of. If you need absolution from her, you’ll have to talk to her about it. Tom has forgiven you, and if you need my forgiveness, you’ve got it. Now can you forgive yourself, and maybe we can get rid of this strained silence between us and get on with being friends again?”

  Sunny waited, and when she still got no response she turned to walk back. She could say or do no more. But after only a few steps, the older woman joined her. They glanced sideways at each other. Although Mavis still said nothing, the tension in the air wasn’t quite as heavy.

  Tom stood at the top of the path next to Jonathan when the two women returned. “I saw you reach for cigarettes,” he said to his wife. She mumbled something unintelligible. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Hang in there. You can do it, babe.”

  Sunny caught his eye and motioned toward the sanitary cubicle. “You do understand that when you go, that goes.”

  He laughed, and released Mavis. He rolled his shoulders and stretched, getting the kinks out. “That is a beauty, isn’t it? We had no problem in the beginning, you know, but once our work force turned coeducational...”

  Looking down into the cove, Sunny’s gaze fell on the back of a slender figure wearing a ponytail, loop earrings, khakis and a navy blue t-shirt. The person knelt next to the skeleton, obscuring it from view.

  Tom followed her gaze and laughed. “Nope. Wrong. That’s a him. That’s Danielle behind you.”

  Sunny turned. As Danielle exited the tall, boxlike structure, she continued to straighten her clothes. She glanced at Sunny and gave her a friendly smile. “Cramped quarters in there.” She headed for the driveway that led down to the beach. “And I gotta say, it sure is a long way from the potty to the wash basin.” She sprinted down the trail and trudged across the sand to wash her hands in the surf. She also wore khakis and a suitable-for-either-sex t-shirt, hers in bright-plum.

  Tom lifted his non-police issue Stetson, scratched his scalp, then replaced the hat. He looked at Sunny, Jonathan, then down at the cove. “I’m glad you showed up, both of you. I was going to come up and talk to you in another couple minutes. We’ve got it uncovered and are close to carrying it out of here. I thought you should know.”

  Sunny swallowed. She was glad the ponytailed worker hid most of the skeleton from view. Then Danielle joined the worker, and he got to his feet and stepped back, and the whole skeleton was in full view. The worker looked up the incline. “Yo, Tom.”

  “Right there.”

  Tom went down the slope at a slower pace than Danielle, but Sunny was barely aware of him. Her eyes were riveted on the bones exposed atop the sand. It was all there, partially draped in frayed, drab cloth. One leg was bent at an impossible angle and one arm stretched above the skull, as if reaching. That was the hand that had finally caught someone’s attention.

  Jonathan’s arm encircled her shoulders.

  “Tom decided not to call you until he knew for certain,” Mavis said tonelessly, her attention also on the scene below. “But I think you should be aware, just in case. The only thing positive is that it is...was...a male, a slightly built male.”

  Sunny was aware of Jonathan’s glance, though he remained silent.

  “Franklin was five-seven and small-boned,” she explained, answering his unasked question. “As is a significant percentage of the male population.” She gave him a direct look. “I got my stature, physical stature, from him. My mother is also five-seven, and almost matched him in weight as well. And I got my blond hair from him, too.” She paused. “But that’s all I ever got from my father.”

  She turned abruptly and started back up the road to the house. She was angry, fed up, burned out. If she could get the world to stop she’d get off for a good, long breather. Jonathan fell in step with her, and she was aware when he then came to a stop, but she continued.

  “Uh, Sunny.”

  Her eyes were downcast, and she was walking fast. Impatient, she looked up and saw what had caught his attention. The news van was back.

  Watch it, Sunny. You need mellow, and you’re a far cry from that mood right now.

  Jonathan arrived at her side. Then she was grasping his hand without realizing that she’d reached for it.

  It was the same van carrying the same people, and when it stopped, the same woman stared hard at Sunny out the passenger’s window. The reporter seemed hungry, like a shark, and Sunny cautioned herself again to be careful. The woman was sharp—she’d clearly sensed Sunny’s mood—and her gaze dropped to the pair’s clasped hands.

  “Hi,” Jonathan said, drawing her attention. He looked back toward the beach. “You’re just in time. They’ve uncovered the skeleton and are ready to cart it out of there.”

  The van inched forward, but the woman jerked her left arm out, fingers splayed wide, to halt the driver. She kept her eyes on Jonathan. “Are you Jonathan Corday?”

  He nodded.

  Her gaze fell again to their clasped hands. “Cousins, right?”

  His grip didn’t tighten or loosen, but Sunny felt the shift in his mood.

  “Yes, but I’ve lost count of how many times removed we are,” he said mildly. “Being a news person, you’ve probably already researched it and must know the exact relationship, so you’ll have to tell me.”

  Sunny had never seen a smile as disarming and as insincere as the one he gave the newswoman. The reporter must’ve realized she’d run into a blank wall; she switched gears back to Sunny. “You saw the skeleton? It’s uncovered?”

  She nodded.

  “Was it your father?”

  Sunny felt a stony mien come over her, and sensed that the reporter caught it because her eyes sharpened. “It didn’t look a bit like him,” Sunny said in a flat voice.

  Jonathan squeezed her hand, and then with his free arm he motioned toward the beach. “They’re preparing it for removal. You might miss something if you don’t hurry.”

  He resumed walking, leading Sunny away. The van would have to travel in reverse if its occupants wanted to stay with them, but after a brief moment it continued toward the beach.

  “Thanks,” she said, keeping her eyes downcast. Then when Jonathan came to another halt, she had to stop because he still had her hand. She looked up, and again he squeezed her fingers as the neutral-colored minivan passed them. One word in small black letters on its side identified it: Coroner.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Within a week Sunny was feeling close to normal again—if not exactly looking that way.

  On a lazy morning Jonathan rolled onto his back, reached for her hand and squeezed it. There was little energy in his clasp—he’d just spent most of it—but the message was clear. She was special. She was important. She was loved.

  And so are you. Her breath caught and for an instant her gaze froze on the ceiling, then mentally she shrugged it off. Nope. Not going anywhere else with that thought right now.

  He pulled her into the circle of his arm. As she settled her head on his shoulder, her fingers played with the curled hair on his chest. Not too much hair, just enough. There was also little strength in her fingers. Her hand stilled and her eyes closed.

  “Gorgeous view,” he said.

  “Umm.” She lifted her head to look through the old-fashioned paned windows then realized that he meant her, not the ocean. The scratches were healing, and the bruising was less prominent, but she still had a way
s to go before she’d look normal again. Apparently Technicolor didn’t turn him off.

  “Oh, stop it.” She reached for the sheet, feeling both complimented and flustered.

  With only the sheet to look at now, he directed his eyes to the window.

  “There’s something I’ve been curious about,” he said lazily. “This is the best bedroom in the house and you had your choice of any one of them when you moved in here. Why did you choose that dinky little room in the back corner?”

  “It’s closest to the bathroom.”

  “Very funny.” Her hand got squeezed again. Then he chuckled. “On second thought, considering that uncomplicated side of yours, that could be the truth.”

  She rose onto her elbow, taking the sheet with her, and looked around the room, studying it. “Yes, this is the best room. The master bedroom. It was my parents’.” Quietly, she added, “I might have been conceived in this room.”

  At the look on his face, she smiled. “No, I haven’t done any conceiving. We can both guarantee that.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking about your ties to this place, the people, the history. I still don’t think of you as a Corday. I guess because you didn’t introduce yourself as such in the beginning. I can’t imagine the mixed feelings you must have.”

  Mixed feelings? That’s what you call it?

  “I guess you could say that.” She shifted to prop her back against the headboard, and then she stared straight ahead. “Feelings and memories. But the memories I’d prefer to forget aren’t of this place and Franklin. What I wish I could forget is much later than that. I was the most mixed-up person I ever want to meet. I fought—not just rebelled, but actually fought—everything and everybody. Roberta, school, society, you name it. Franklin was never in my life, so I couldn’t fight him, which might have been the problem. If I could’ve just once lit into him, beat up on him, told him what I thought of him, maybe I wouldn’t have abused myself and everybody else so much.”