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“What happened to your Abigail?” Cassie asked softly.
“She came a month early. Lots of babies make it, even when they come early.” Linda looked down at her hands. “I held her in my arms, praying for her to cry. She never did. I held her as she slept.” Linda’s arms rose as if she cradled that baby.
“Where was Frank?” Cassie asked softly.
Linda’s head jerked up. “He was with her. She came to Eagle Rock because she was pregnant with his child.” Her face contorted with rage. “He brought her into my house while I was holding my sweet baby Abigail. He sat me on that chair and told me to be quiet and let him think.
“Then his whore’s water broke on my living room rug. He took her into my bed and delivered her brat. He came out with a screaming, crying, healthy baby girl, took my Abigail and put the whore’s child in my arms.” Linda looked at her hands again, tears falling. “He took my Abigail and buried her somewhere in the yard. I’ve spent the past twenty years searching for her and can’t find her.”
Cassie’s heart ached for Linda. The woman had lost her child and hadn’t been allowed the chance to grieve. “What happened to the baby’s mother?”
Linda’s eyes narrowed. “She came out of my bedroom demanding her baby. I didn’t want it, but she didn’t deserve her. Frank was my husband, and our baby was dead.”
“What happened?” Cassie prompted.
“She killed her,” a deep voice said from the entrance to the room.
Cassie spun to face Frank Matson.
He held a pistol in his hand, pointed at Linda. “She was still holding the baby when she charged into Beth. Beth fell and hit her head on the corner of the coffee table.”
“She was fine,” Linda said. “She got up. Frank made me give her the baby. She sat in the rocking chair and held her for the longest time like this was her home, and I was the intruder.” Linda snorted. “Then she said she was tired and wanted to lie down. Frank took her into our room again and let her sleep in my bed.”
“She didn’t wake up,” Frank concluded.
Cassie’s stomach roiled. Frank and Linda had stood by and done nothing while Beth had died. “Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”
“I didn’t know she’d die. I thought she was tired from just having given birth.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know.”
Linda snorted. “Tell her the truth, Frank. You didn’t want anyone to know about your whore or your bastard child. Especially my father. You were set to take over the business. If my father had known you’d screwed around while married to his little girl, he’d have killed you. He sure as hell wouldn’t have given you the business. So, Frank hid his indiscretion.”
“And saved you from going to jail for murder.” Frank’s lips pressed together. “And I’m still cleaning up your mess.”
“But now, you’re just as guilty.” Linda’s lip lifted in a sneer. “Earl knew you’d hung that drywall over the secret room. At the time, he didn’t care because he didn’t know what you’d hidden back there. When your whore was found, you had to kill Earl to keep him quiet.”
“To keep you from going to jail,” Frank insisted.
“And the avalanche?” Cassie wanted to know.
Frank frowned. “You were getting too close.” His hand shifted, the gun now pointing at Cassie. “You and your boyfriend just had to go to Idaho Falls. I had to do something.”
Cassie shook her head. “It’s too late, Frank. Everyone knows now. You might as well put the gun down and turn yourself in.”
Frank’s face turned red. “No. This was not my fault. I didn’t kill Beth.” He jabbed the pistol toward Linda. “She killed her. I just cleaned up the mess. It was her.” He jabbed the gun toward Linda again. This time, it went off.
Linda’s eyes widened. She glanced down at her chest, where a perfect round hole marred the front of her white blouse. Blood seeped out, spreading across the white fabric.
Linda looked up. “You shot me.” She dropped to her knees. “All I wanted was to find my baby.” She fell to her side, staring at her husband, her eyes open and accusing.
Frank looked at his wife as if he couldn’t quite understand what he’d done.
Cassie dove for the gun, trying to knock it from his grasp.
He held firm to the pistol and backhanded her with his other hand, his knuckles catching her across her cheek.
She staggered backward and fell over an ottoman, landing hard on her ass.
“Look what you made me do,” he said. “Now, I have to clean up her mess again, and you with it.”
