Chapter Twenty-Three

They were an unhappy lot as they drove back to Lachlan House. They were feeling that they'd made no progress in finding the killer. And as Kate had said, they were running out of time.

"I want to be one of those TV detectives," Sara said. "In the last five minutes, they put together every word everyone has said and voilà! they know who the murderer is."

"I don't think Rachel killed herself," Kate said.

"I agree," Randal said. "I think she thought she'd find the jewels, sell them, and give herself a new life."

No one replied, because it was what Randal had thought he would do with his own life.

Maybe because they were feeling like losers, Jack pulled the car as far to the back of Lachlan House as possible. They went in through the kitchen.

When they were inside, Lenny looked at Sara and nodded toward the back window. Reid was outside trimming the grass. Lenny said, "It's as though he knows he owns the place."

Sara didn't ask how Lenny knew about Reid's inheritance, but then she was a bit afraid to hear his answer.

Lenny nodded toward the hallway. "They found something and they're waiting for you."

Sara's heart gave a little leap of hope, and she followed the others into the living room.

Barbara, Troy, and Lea jumped up from the couches. Their faces were alight with excitement.

"We couldn't find Rachel," Lea said, "but maybe that was a good thing. Or not. We aren't sure until we see it." She looked at Barbara. "You explain."

"Billy called me and he was very upset." Barbara paused to be sure she had everyone's attention. "He said he expects to be hauled off to prison at any moment and it is all my fault. Such drama! I finally got it out of him that he couldn't remember where he and I got one of the stories we reenacted. It was about a Viking and a man being stabbed in the heart."

Barbara could hold her own when it came to drama. Again, she paused and waited for everyone's attention. "I remembered where I'd heard the story."

"From a script?" Troy asked. His hint was that was the only thing she ever read.

The others hadn't seen mother and son together, and now they saw the deep affection between them.

"No, darling, it was a program from TV. Unsolved Mysteries. I remember how Billy and I were drooling over the host, Robert Stack. We were laying bets on which of us could make him smile. I said—" She cut off at Troy's look. "Anyway, I thought of trying to find the episode online, but that would take ages since I didn't remember the name of anyone involved. I knew Billy and I had found it on a VHS tape in the Palm Room. But I checked and it wasn't there, nor was it in the stash you'd taken to Billy. So where was that tape?"

She waited for an answer, but no one spoke. "I'll have to apologize to Rachel when I see her, but the room she's in now is the one I had when I stayed here the first time. I knew it had been beautifully redone but maybe there was some little cranny that had been missed, so I ransacked it." Barbara's eyes sparkled. "I had to climb on a chair but I found the old tape stuck at the back of a top shelf of the closet. It's almost as though someone had hidden it there." She gave them time to think about that.

With a flourish, Barbara withdrew a VHS tape from her bag. "Taaa-daaa. It's an episode of Unsolved Mysteries with that delicious Robert Stack hosting. I met him once. He was—"

"Mother!" Troy said.

Barbara smiled. "I haven't had time to see it, but I do vaguely remember Billy and I drinking too much wine while we watched it. Perhaps it's just my intuition, but I believe the story you've been looking for came from this show."

There was a hesitation of about three seconds, then the seven of them nearly stampeded up the stairs to the Palm Room. Troy, their resident electronics man, put the tape in the machine. They found seats on chair, couch, and floor, then settled back to watch.

Robert Stack, 1950s heartthrob, came on.

"See what I mean?" Barbara said about the handsome man.

"I do indeed," Sara answered with enthusiasm.

When the first segment came on, the room was silent as they watched. There were some video reenactments that went on behind the announcer telling the story.

This is the unsolved murder of a young man who has become a cult idol, Taylor Caswell.

It was 1944, and young, handsome Taylor Caswell had made only one movie, prophetically called Only Once. While he was waiting for his movie to premier, Taylor lived in a cheap apartment in a two-story complex in Los Angeles. It was said that he kept to himself and befriended none of the other tenants.

When his movie was just a couple of months away from being released, a young woman who said she was his wife arrived. She told the landlord she hadn't heard from her husband in over a week and would he please unlock the door. The landlord said the woman was so unattractive that he didn't believe she was the wife of such a good-looking man as Taylor Caswell. Only after she showed him a wedding photo of the two of them did he agree to unlock the door.

To the man's horror, they found the young actor lying on the floor in a pool of blood. He'd been stabbed in the heart.

The landlord immediately called the police. Later, he said that the wife did not seem surprised to find her husband dead, and while he was on the phone, she went into the bedroom. When she came out, he saw her putting what looked to be letters in her handbag.

All of it upset the landlord so much that he ran downstairs to his own apartment and downed a shot of whiskey. When he returned, the wife was gone. The landlord realized he didn't know the woman's name. In Los Angeles, the movie capital of the world, many people had made-up names. The wife probably had Taylor Caswell's real name. Even though they searched, no one, not even the police, could find her.

For weeks, the police questioned people about the murder victim. The tenants said the only person they'd ever seen visiting the actor was a tall fair-skinned man. One tenant said, "He was like a blond Viking." Another tenant said, "He seemed to like the Viking man more than any woman." As befitted the time, this statement was ignored.

It wasn't until later that the police found out that the week before Taylor Caswell's movie came out, the wife had gone to her husband's agent and presented documentation of a trust fund that she'd had set up. All profits from the movie were to be sent to the trust fund. People said that it was almost as though she foresaw that he was going to die since the papers had been drawn up months earlier. The agency's lawyers laughed at her. The movie was barely D-list and it wasn't expected to do well—which is why Taylor Caswell's contract had given him generous rights to whatever profits there were. Those rights were given in lieu of the higher salary he should have received.

In the first year after the movie debuted, they were right. Few people saw it. But then critics began naming it as one of the hundred best films ever made. After that, the movie began to be discovered by the public. It became a cult hit. Today, it's said that millions have been sent to that trust fund. Whoever that wife was, even though she was deemed "unattractive" by everyone, she ended up with very fat bank account.

As for Taylor Caswell, his murderer was never found.

Troy put the tape on Pause and they sat in silence. There was a publicity photo of the young, handsome Taylor Caswell frozen on the screen.

Sara gave Kate a look to tell her that they needed to talk. Sara wasn't about to tell the others—the suspects—that Caswell was the man she'd seen in her dreams. He was Aran Lachlan, the son who'd run away from home and sent his parents into a deep depression. He went to Hollywood, changed his name, made a movie, then was murdered.

"That's the man we saw in the movie."

They turned to look toward the door and were startled to see young Quinn standing there.

He and Sara exchanged smiles. Kids and older people were alike in that they were not seen. "Is he from the movie you saw the first night?"

Quinn nodded.

"Where is that tape?" Jack asked.

Yet again, Quinn gave a look of being triumphant over the adults. He turned to Troy. "You took it out of the machine."

Even though most of the old tapes had been sent to Billy, lying on the shelf was one with a worn label. Only Once. It had been in the machine since the first night. Troy hadn't looked at the label when he removed it to put in the tape his mother had found.

Sara repressed laughter as Troy put the movie in the player. She got up from the ottoman and followed Quinn out of the room. They high-fived. "Well done!" she told the boy. "So where is everyone?"

He knew she meant Greer. He lowered his voice as they walked to the bedroom where Rachel/Greer had been staying. "She's been telling Dad and me all about her life. She had her nose cut open and she said we could go to Scotland to see her family. Dad said I can wear a kilt."

"I'll research your family and find your tartan—except that's an English idea. I'll buy you the finest sporran, one that's worthy of Lieutenant Colonel Johnny Thompson."

He smiled. "I'm supposed to get Greer's clothes and her passport."

Sara gave him a sharp look.

"I know. I can't say her name. It's all a secret." His face showed fear. "No one is going to kill her, are they?"

"No!" Sara said. "Let's pack while they're watching the movie. We can throw stuff out the window and Lenny can help you take it to my car."

Quinn grinned at that. "Gr... Rachel said she hid her passport. There's a loose board in the closet. It's—" He stopped because Sara had frozen in place, eyes wide. "What is it?"

"I know where there's a good hiding place. Lea has been looking for a wall safe, but there's somewhere else something could be hidden. I need to go. I'll send Lenny up to help you. Is that okay?"

"Oh yeah," Quinn said. "He's cool. We have a bully at school. I wish I could take Lenny there to have a talk with him." He was smiling at the thought.

"I think Lenny would love that. I need to go." When Sara got to the door she wasn't surprised to nearly run into Lenny. She assumed he'd heard it all so she just waved her hand and he nodded.

"I hate bullies," he said as he went into the bedroom to help Quinn.

Kate was standing in the hall.

"Why aren't you watching the movie?" Sara asked.

"Because whatever you are up to is always more exciting than any movie—and a whole lot more dangerous. There's an active murderer on the loose. Where are we going?"

"To the cottage. I need to search a hiding place in there."

"Tell me where it is and I can go look."

"No," Sara said. "It's time for me to face the past."

After they told Lenny where they were going, the two women left the house together.

As soon as Kate unlocked the cottage door, Sara began shaking in fear. This is absurd, she told herself. It all happened long ago. It's over. Done with.

But for all her thoughts of encouragement, the second she stepped inside the pretty room, it was as though she'd never left it. She could almost feel Cal there. Her memories were vivid, crystal clear.

In front of her was the beautiful stained glass window. "Mr. Lachlan bought this window at an auction and had it installed here. It doesn't really fit, but..." Sara could feel her current self fading away. Writing, traveling, people she'd met over the years, seemed to leave her. "I lost my virginity in this room."

Kate said nothing but quietly waited for whatever her aunt wanted to tell her.

"Cal cut the grass here. He always seemed older than he was. He was doing garden work when he was twelve. He doubled his workload after his mother, Renata, died. His father remarried the same year she passed."

"Was his new wife nice?" Kate asked.

"No," Sara said. "She looked on Cal as a nuisance. She used to say that when she had kids, she'd send Cal away. But she never had any."

"How'd she like you?"

"Exactly as much as I liked her." Sara sighed. "It especially hurt since Renata adored Cal. If it hadn't been for him, I'm sure she would have left. Back then, the father was always given custody. He just had to say his wife had screwed someone else, and zap! he got it all and the wife was cast out. Renata couldn't bear losing Cal."

"How did she die?" Kate asked.

"We never knew. She just died. No long disease, just...gone."

"Not...?"

"Suicide?" Sara asked. "No, she wouldn't do that to her precious son."

Kate took a breath. Did she dare ask about the Great Secret? "Cal stayed in Lachlan and you left."

Sara took her time before answering. "Our plan was to leave town the week after we graduated from high school. Cal had a college football scholarship and I had student loans. But the day after the graduation ceremony, there was an accident. His father was under a car, working on it, and the jack fell. It crushed his legs and he was paralyzed. In one second the support of them all was dumped on Cal's very young shoulders."

"But you left town anyway," Kate said.

"Yes, but not because of that."

"Then why?"

Sara went to the big window and put her hand on the glass. "On that same day, the man my best friend, Tayla, was planning to marry, Walter Kirkwood, raped me. Violently raped me."

"No," Kate whispered.

"Someone had told Walter that I was trying to force Tayla not to marry him. He was in a rage. He found me alone and..." Sara waved her hand. "The horrible details don't matter. It was a very long time ago. Afterward, I was trying to walk home. I was bruised and bloody and my clothes were ripped, and I saw Tayla. I told her what Walter had done to me." Sara paused. "She didn't believe me. She said I was a liar, and she left me there, bleeding and torn." It took Sara a few moments to calm herself. "When I got home, I cleaned up as best I could. I had a lot of bruises and deep scratches, and I..."

"Did you tell your mother?"

"Of course not!" Sara said. "I think Randal saw me when I came in, but I'm not sure. I went next door to Cal. I'd never seen him like he was on that day. He was glassy-eyed, traumatized, bent over, his head in his hands. Walter had said he was going to tell Cal that I'd wanted it, that I'd been eager for it. You see, back then, rape was always the girl's fault. If she'd worn a low-cut top four years before, then it was said that a man couldn't be blamed for his actions." Sara paused. "I assumed that's what Cal had been told. He began saying that his life was over, that he could never leave town. In my stupidity, in my vanity, I thought I was the cause of it."

"Because of the...the purity thing?"

"Yes. Girls didn't bed-hop then. Reputation was the number one word in my generation of women. Keeping our reputation clean was the most important thing in our lives. I assumed Cal no longer wanted me. I was soiled. Unclean. It was exactly how I felt. Dirty." Sara stopped, her chest heaving.

"What did you do?"

"I had some money hidden so packed a suitcase and left Lachlan. I had no idea where I was going. I just got on a bus and went. It was the lowest point in my life."

"Cal was too upset to hear you, wasn't he?"

"Yes. I didn't know it, but he'd just come back from the hospital. He'd been told that his father would forever be in a wheelchair, and Cal knew his life was over. He wasn't the kind of person to run away to play sports and leave behind a crippled father and a stepmother without financial support. Cal knew he'd have to turn down his scholarship and stay in town to run his father's auto shop."

"When Cal realized you were gone, he had no way to contact you, did he?"

"None at all. I was impressively clever in disappearing without a trace. I had good grades so it was easy to get into another university in another state. I got a job and—" She waved her hand. "It was over a year before I heard what happened. By then, Cal had impregnated Donna, and of course he'd done the honorable thing and married her."

"But you did see him again," Kate said. "I've pieced that much together. So why didn't you stay with him?"

"About three years after I left, I sent my parents my contact information. I knew they'd give it to Cal. He called and we met. Not here but upstate, and we talked."

"Did you tell him what Walter did to you?"

"No! I still thought of that with shame. Besides, my mother had told Cal I left town because I'd heard that his father had been hurt. Since Cal wouldn't leave town, she said I'd dumped him. I went with that story. I said I had to get out of Lachlan and see the world."

"Did he believe you?"

Sara gave a small smile. "No, but he didn't say so. What he did say was that he'd get a divorce and we could live together anywhere in the world that I wanted." She looked at Kate. "But that would have meant leaving his son or taking the child away from his mother."

When Sara paused, Kate silently waited. She felt her aunt had more to tell.

"You see, there was something else. Something I've told no one until now." She took a long breath. "After what Walter did to me, I knew I was injured, but I didn't go to a doctor. I had too much guilt. Did I ask for it? Had I caused it? It wasn't until about two years later that I went for a pap smear. The doctor sat down on his little stool, and said, ‘Who did this to you?'"

Sara paused for a moment. "I had to have some repair surgery, but in spite of that, I was told that I'd never have children."

Kate's voice was soft. "You would never take the child from his mother and you knew you couldn't give Cal any children."

"Right. And I knew Cal would hate himself if he left them all—his father, stepmother, wife, and son. I couldn't do that to him."

Both women were silent, thinking about all that had been said.

Kate spoke first. "What an extraordinary, truly fantastic..."

"Story?" Sara's voice held the deep sadness she'd held inside for so many years.

"No. Coincidence," Kate said firmly. "You and Cal graduated from high school, which I know that back then meant marriage age, and immediately, everything happened."

"Are you again saying that it's good I didn't marry Cal so you and Jack aren't related?"

"Not at all. I'm just looking at the facts. A car fell on Cal's dad and crushed his legs. It didn't kill him, just injured him enough that Cal had to stay home to run the business and support everyone. Then on that same day, Walter Kirkwood was in a rage because he believed you had poisoned his girlfriend—your bestie—against him."

"I didn't do that. It wasn't my business. Tayla knew I didn't like Walter, but then, she thought Cal was a bore. We used to say that we were equal." She looked at Kate. "What are you saying?"

"You've taught me this—if you want to know what happened, look at the result."

Sara's face was blank.

"What are the odds of this? In one day, you lost everything, but who got it all?"

Sara's eyes widened. "Donna. Cal ended up having to marry her. She'd always wanted him. In school, she made a fool of herself over him. She hated me. She—" Sara sat down on the window ledge. "She couldn't have done that. Crushing a man? Setting up a rape? She wouldn't."

"Ha!" Kate said. "Haven't you read Jane Austen? A woman will do anything to get the man she wants. Donna didn't have money or beauty or even brains. But she married the cream of the crop. All she had to do was kick over a car jack, tell a few lies to Walter, and wiggle up to a healthy young man who had been abandoned by the love of his life. Then Donna stood back and waited. She must have been joyous when she came up pregnant."

Sara's voice was low. "Cal said he didn't remember sleeping with her. He woke up and there she was beside him in bed. He was embarrassed and apologized to her."

"He had a foggy memory?" Kate said. "Didn't your generation invent recreational drugs? Sounds like something was given to him. Slipped into a drink?"

Sara's voice was a whisper. "Cal never loved her."

"Neither does Jack. She wasn't a grandmother to him."

"Donna only loved her son, Roy, and she ruined him."

"In the long run, you won. You kept Cal's love. Always."

"He and I met many times over the years. Somewhere in the world. We had our own life. It wasn't conventional, but it was good."

"I know you did. I listen. And now you have Jack and me. Who does Donna have?"

"No one." Sara put her shoulders back. "I don't know if any of this is true, but suddenly, I feel...different." She looked around the beautiful cottage. "I'm not afraid of this place anymore. It's almost as though Cal is here, but in a good way." She paused. "I can feel... I don't know what it is, but I'm lighter. Mind and body—and the past." Her head came up. "I think I'm going to try to solve a murder. I'd like to ask Reid some questions. Did he know he was to inherit this place? We assume he didn't know, but we aren't sure. And has Alish really been able to keep Greer's nondeath a secret from him? And oh yeah, did he happen to know that his grandmother says she killed a man then cut his skull open? Wonder what she did with the turtle rug. I'll see you later." Sara hurried out of the cottage.

Sara may have felt better, but Kate felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She'd felt her aunt's pain as she told of the brutal rape. And later, Sara'd had no one she could tell because she knew she'd be blamed.

And there was Cal with his crippled father. Kate had never heard anyone say a good word about the man. Cal's son, Roy, had grown up with a heart full of anger. He'd taken a lot of it out on his son Jack.

Kate sat down hard on the low window ledge. She had no doubt that all that pain had been caused by some girl who lusted after the captain of the high school football team. She wanted him no matter what it cost other people.

Kate had her phone in her pocket and she texted Heather, Jack's mother.

What happened to Roy's mother?

Heather answered right away.

She's in the hospital. Dying. Cancer.

Does she have lots of visitors? With tears being shed?

Heather sent a line of laughing emojis.

Kate closed her phone. There seemed to be a moral in this, but she didn't know what it was. When you want something, don't go after it at the cost of other people? Was that it?

When this gets done, Kate thought, I'm going to visit the woman. I want to see her before the devil rises up to take her down to where she deserves to be.

It was when Kate stood up, ready to leave, that she remembered why they'd come to the cottage. Sara knew a hiding place that was in the cottage. Did it hold something? Where was it?