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“I’ll leave my door open a crack, so they’ll come to me first.”
“But what will you say?” Ravinia asked.
“I’ll tell them it’s you, going over the wall again.”
Savannah drove north through the rain, which seemed to be lessening a little. At least she hoped it was. There was water rushing in a thin film across the road. The snow was completely gone, washed away.
She couldn’t wait to get to Hale’s house. Hale and Kristina’s house. It wasn’t right, but it was all she could do. She drove through Deception Bay, past the turnoff to Bancroft Bluff, and then a few miles farther, she saw the entrance to Declan Bancroft’s house. Had Declan had an affair with Catherine or, despite all Catherine’s claims to the contrary, with her sister, Mary? Could the boy whom Catherine called Declan Jr. really be Declan Sr.’s son? How would you know? There was no listing of the fathers of the Siren Song girls, again, according to Catherine. There was only A Short History of the Colony, and that had been written by a man who, even within the text of the book, freely admitted that some of it was conjecture. Herman Smythe was no historian. He was just an older man who was living out his days at . . .
“Seagull Pointe,” she said aloud. The assisted living facility /nursing home would be coming up on her right very soon. She hadn’t been there since Madeline “Mad Maddie” Turnbull’s death, but Smythe was a resident, too. She’d planned on stopping in and talking to him, but, well, she’d been kind of overwhelmed with the changes in her life.
But now here she was.
Might as well try to see him.
Hale looked down the length of the dining table at the cartons of food he’d brought from Gino’s. His grandfather sat at one end; his mother at the other. Janet couldn’t forgive Declan for, at least in her mind, contributing to the failure of her marriage by having any kind of relations with the Rutledge sisters. Declan seemed perplexed by her cold distance, but it had been the same between them for years, so Hale suspected he had to have some clue.
Victoria was feeding the baby a bottle, but little Declan was starting to fuss, and the nanny heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
Janet rolled her eyes at Hale, silently saying, “How long are you going to let this go on?”
“I’ll take him,” Hale said, and he carried the baby back to his bedroom and walked him around until he fell asleep.
He wondered what was keeping Savvy. Work, maybe. He wondered if she’d talked to Hamett and Evinrud. Probably. It gave him a slightly sick feeling to think what they might be saying about him, but Savannah was a cop and knew better than he did what to expect in a murder investigation. She could separate fact from fiction, good cop from bad, truth from lies.
He snuggled baby Declan back into his bassinet and then returned to the dining room to find Janet standing on her feet, back rigid, glaring at her father, who was still sitting. “Do you know what he said?” she asked, swinging around to Hale, her eyes bright with fury. “He said he has a son!”
“I said I have a grandson,” Declan said, sweeping a hand toward Hale, then bringing it back to rest on the tabletop, but not before waving it at Janet, as if she were a noxious fume.
“You said son. Who with? That whore, Mary Rutledge . . . Beeman . . . or whatever the hell?”
“I do not have a son.” Declan’s face was turning red with anger.
“I’m leaving,” Janet said. “I love the baby, Hale. He’s so precious, but I can’t stand this.” She swept toward the den.
“I don’t have a son!”
Hale followed after her, recalling how just the other day his grandfather had mistakenly said he had a son. Was he just losing it a little, like Hale had thought at the time? Or was Janet right and there was something more . . . like Declan Jr. . . ?
“You’re leaving tonight?” he said to her.
“I sure as hell am. And you need to do something about that girl. She’s hopeless. If she’s the best they’re offering at that nanny school where Kristina picked her out, that place should be written up!”
“She was pretty,” Hale said.
“What?”
“I told Kristina she could pick whomever she wanted, and she picked Victoria from some résumés the school sent. Victoria was the prettiest.”
“That’s sick, Hale. Really.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Janet zipped up her bag and straightened. “I notice you’re not dying to get me to stay and help you. Is it because I can’t get along with my father, or do you have someone else in mind, hmmm?”
“If you’re talking about Savannah, don’t let your imagination run wild.”
“It’s not running wild, dear.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got a pretty clear idea of what’s going on, and for the record, I don’t approve.”
