Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)

“You’d do just about anything to keep me from seeing Troy, but I didn’t realize you’d lie.”

“Ask him yourself,” Susannah suggested, gesturing toward the kitchen phone.

Chrissie hesitated for a moment. “Fine, I will.” She marched off with a righteousness fueled by certainty—or at least the pretense of certainty.

Susannah followed her, curious to hear what Jake’s son would say. And yes, she’d reconciled herself to the truth of Sharon’s claim that Jake was her son’s father.

Her back to the wall, Chrissie sat on the linoleum floor. She rested her face against her knees as she held the receiver to her ear. When Susannah entered the room, Chrissie raised her eyes, sparking with indignation.

“Hi,” she said when Troy answered.

Susannah sat at the kitchen table and folded her arms, patiently waiting. Not for a second did she believe Troy Nance would tell the truth.

“You weren’t with someone else yesterday afternoon, were you?” Chrissie asked, purring the question.

He took his time responding. Chrissie kept her eyes lowered, then something he said made her look up suddenly and glare at Susannah.

“At the park,” she said repeating his words. “Jenny Sandberg met you there.”

Susannah’s stomach tensed.

“She’s an old friend. Uh, huh. A good friend from high school. Uh, huh. You hadn’t seen her in a while.” Chrissie was echoing his responses for her mother’s benefit, and Susannah sighed at her daughter’s naiveté. Chrissie sounded so triumphant.

From the way Troy and this Jenny had been going at it, they were very good friends.

“Mom saw you and wondered,” Chrissie said next. “She said you’d lie to me and I said you wouldn’t.”

Not a word of that was true. All Susannah had suggested was that Chrissie ask Troy herself. She felt disturbed by the fact that these two were lying to each other, Chrissie no less than Troy.

“Of course I believe you,” she insisted, continuing to glare at Susannah.

Unwilling to listen any longer, Susannah turned her back and walked out of the kitchen.

“Why would I mind?” Chrissie was saying. She lowered her voice. “Yes, I told her.”

This apparently had to do with her daughter’s moving.

“She doesn’t have any choice but to accept it,” Chrissie said more loudly. “I make my own decisions.”

Susannah felt sick to her stomach. She went into the living room and sat down in the one remaining chair. A few minutes later, Chrissie left the kitchen, and started down the hallway to the bedrooms.

“When did you talk to Dad?” Susannah asked her. “What did he say?”

“This afternoon.” Her daughter paused, not turning to face her. “But it’s more important what Troy told me. He said my parents would do whatever they could to break us up and I should be prepared for that.”

Susannah arched her brows. “Did he?”

“Yes, and you just proved everything Troy said.”

“I was telling the truth.”

“So was Troy. Fine, he was with another woman, an old friend. I’m not the jealous type.”

Susannah was far more interested in Joe’s assessment of the situation than she was in Troy’s. “What did Dad say?” She repeated her earlier question.

“I don’t appreciate you running to him every time we disagree.”

“You’re our daughter.”

“I would’ve told Dad when I was ready.”

Susannah straightened, worried now. “Chrissie, we need to work this out.”

“No, we don’t. There’s nothing you can say or do that’s going to change my mind. You need to understand that I’m an adult and I have the right to decide what I want. If it’s any of your business, I love Troy.”

“You hardly even know him!”

“I know enough.”

Her daughter was determined to make one of the biggest mistakes of her life.

Sick at heart, Susannah watched as Chrissie grabbed her purse and slammed out the door. A few minutes later, the distinctive roar of Troy’s muffler and the blaring of his revved-up sound system rattled the windows. She looked outside to see Chrissie clambering into his truck.

The house was quiet again once her daughter had left. Susannah walked back to her room and sat on the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands.

She didn’t see the sheet of paper propped on her desk until she glanced up. Her eyes widened and she leaped up to seize it. Her breath caught in her throat as she read the message.

MEET ME IN THE CEMETERY AT 7 TONIGHT.

CHAPTER 35

“What’s wrong?” Carolyn asked, closing her truck door and trotting toward the house. Susannah waited on the front steps.

She had frantically phoned, not knowing who else to call after finding the note. Whoever had broken into the house must have left it; maybe she just hadn’t noticed it last night. Why that person wanted to see her remained as much a mystery as everything else.

Carolyn joined her on the steps. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so panicky.”

Susannah got up and led her inside, directly to her childhood bedroom. “Read that,” she said, pointing to the small desk where the message still lay.

Walking slowly into the room, Carolyn advanced toward the desk.

“Do you know who wrote this?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Susannah.

“I have an idea.” She’d considered nothing else in the ten minutes it’d taken Carolyn to drive into town.

Susannah sank down on the edge of the bed, her heart racing and her palms sweaty. She felt light-headed and realized she hadn’t eaten since that morning. The thought of food, however, made her want to gag.

“The cemetery,” Carolyn said. The mattress dipped as she sat down beside Susannah.

“At seven.” Thankfully it would still be light then, although Susannah hadn’t made a decision yet. Should she go? Or not? She tried to work out the consequences of each action.

“Do you think it might be Jake?” Carolyn asked in a hushed voice.

“I can’t think who else it would be.” Sharon had said she’d get in touch with him; apparently she had.

“It makes sense,” Carolyn said. “We now know why he left and, more importantly, why he didn’t come back to Colville when you got home.”

Shocking though it was, all this information about Jake’s problems with the law explained a great deal. After her return from France, the only address he had would’ve been the family home. Knowing what her father had already done to keep them apart, he might well have avoided any contact, for his own protection and hers. If, by chance, he had written, she could easily believe that George Leary had destroyed the letter.

“Jake must’ve heard that you’ve been looking for him,” Carolyn suggested.

Susannah nodded. “Sharon told him. She said she would.”

“Are you going to go?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Carolyn stared at her. “You’ve got to be kidding! I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I did at one time. Now…I’m not sure.” Indecision gripped her and she plowed her fingers into her hair. “Life can get very complicated,” she said with a beleaguered sigh.

“If it is Jake, he’s taking a tremendous risk.”

“I know.” If word of this got out, Jake would immediately be arrested and sent to jail. He could very well end up in a federal prison.

Feeling shaky, Susannah moved into the kitchen, followed by Carolyn. She put on water for a pot of tea.

“You look pale,” Carolyn commented. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”

“It’s not just the note, it’s Chrissie, too,” Susannah said, dropping teabags into the two mugs still unpacked. “I saw Troy with someone else yesterday afternoon and confronted Chrissie.”

“It didn’t go well?”

Susannah snickered. “You could say that. I have no idea what Chrissie sees in him. I wish I trusted her judgment, but I don’t.” What bothered Susannah most was that she recognized how easy it would be to treat her daughter the same way her father had treated her. In fact, Chrissie’s accusations were an eerie echo of the things she’d said to her own father. Here it was—her youthful rebellion staring her in the face, as though her teenage self was being channeled through her daughter. Susannah had a glimpse of the frustration her father must have felt. Even worse, even more ironic, the man in question was Jake’s son….

The whistle blew as the water on the stove reached a boil. Susannah filled the mugs and set them aside to steep.

“Would you go with me?” Susannah asked. “The note didn’t say anything about going alone.” The prospect of going at all filled her with a mixture of excitement and guilt—the guilt because she’d be keeping this secret from Joe.

One meeting. Just one. She’d apologize for her father’s behavior and leave it at that. The only other thing she needed to do was obtain some assurance that despite her father, Jake had had a good life. With all her heart, she wanted him to be happy. She’d ask about Troy, too; perhaps he had some influence with his son. Yes, Jake might be able to help her.

“You want me to go with you?” Carolyn shook her head. “Even if the note didn’t say anything about it, I’m sure he expects you to go by yourself.”

“I guess you’re right,” Susannah said reluctantly. “He’d probably figure it’s safer for him if I’m there alone.”

Susannah removed the teabags and took a carton of milk from the refrigerator. “I find the cemetery a curious choice, don’t you? Like those Gothic romances we read in high school.”

“Yeah,” Carolyn agreed, stirring milk into her tea. “The ones with the heroine on the cover, wearing a nightgown and holding a candle. It’s always dark and there’s usually a cliff.”

Susannah smiled. “And she’s following the directions of an anonymous note.”

“A note that leads her to the cemetery,” Carolyn said with a grin. “Perhaps this is Jake’s way of telling you the relationship is dead.”

They both sat at the kitchen table. Susannah suspected he’d chosen the site because it was unlikely they’d run into anyone who might recognize him at the graveyard. She told Carolyn this and they both laughed.

“Yeah,” Carolyn said. “Dead men don’t tell tales.”

Briefly, Susannah wondered how many other chances Jake had taken over the years, risking imprisonment by coming down to the States. She assumed he’d come back for Sharon or perhaps she’d occasionally gone to him.

“You’re sure you can do this alone?” Carolyn asked worriedly. “I’d offer to wait at the entrance but he hasn’t said where you’re supposed to meet him. It might be right at the gates, and if that’s the case, he might disappear if he sees me.”

“You’re right. Anyway, I’ll be fine.” She would tell Joe about it, she resolved. Her husband deserved to know.