Part 27 (2/2)

”She may have committed a crime,” I said. ”Your father-Sam-had to hit her. She's at the hospital.”

Kendra had taken a gulp of wine, which caused her to make a face. ”Dad hit Mom? That doesn't sound like him. What do you mean, she committed a crime?”

”She may have killed Henrietta Altdorf, the nurse who lived next door to Carol.”

”What?” Kendra was stunned. She had to set the gla.s.s down on the end table because her hands were shaking.

”Henrietta was murdered late this morning. Did you know her?”

Kendra folded her hands in her lap. She was wearing a brave face, perhaps telling herself that I was nuts. ”That older lady who was always b.u.t.ting in?” she said. ”Yeah, I met her a couple of times. She gushed over me. I hate gush. G.o.d, is this real?”

I was seated in a big white chair across from Kendra's place on the sofa. I leaned forward, wis.h.i.+ng I dared sit next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

”Henrietta probably was your real mother, your birth mother. Carol Stokes's baby died a few days after he was born.”

The brave look collapsed, sinking somewhere inside Kendra's lacerated heart. ”No! That's a lie! My mother told me I was her daughter! My mom and dad knew she was! You're crazy!”

I shook my head. ”Ask your dad. Both your dads. Of course,” I continued slowly, ”neither of them is your birth father. He was probably your adoptive mother's OB-GYN at the clinic that handled your adoption. That's where Henrietta was a nurse before you were born.”

Tears had welled up in Kendra's eyes. ”I don't get it,” she said, sounding frantic. ”Why did everybody lie to me?”

”They didn't know,” I said. ”Kathy Addison wanted a daughter, isn't that right?”

The tears were falling, but Kendra nodded. ”She... always said... girls were easier... to raise.”

”I'll admit, I don't know what would have happened if Carol Stokes had given birth to a healthy boy. But she didn't, and about the same time Henrietta had a girl. She and Dr. McFarland made the switch. I don't know if it was illegal, but there could have been problems. The Ad-disons had paid most of Carol's medical expenses. Dr. McFarland may have been in a bind. Not only did he probably get a nurse in his clinic pregnant, but he was a drug abuser, so he may not have been in his sane and sober mind. At any rate, the subst.i.tution was made and the adoption papers were filed with the court. Dr. McFar-land had to lie. I suspect he was under tremendous pressure from Henrietta and he caved. Also, he knew how desperately your mother wanted a child after all her miscarriages. Carol's baby died after she left the hospital. She didn't know the truth, neither did your adoptive parents. You can't blame them. They didn't lie, because they never knew.”

Wiping at her eyes, Kendra remained silent for a long time. I guessed that she was trying to sift through everything I'd told her. I wouldn't have blamed the poor girl if it took her a week.

”But the crime... ? The murder? Did I hear wrong?” she finally asked in an anguished voice.

”I don't think so,” I said, wis.h.i.+ng it were otherwise. ”It seems that after Carol's death, Henrietta became obsessed. She'd seen how much you liked Carol; she wanted you to like her in the same way, as your mother. She had a son, but he rarely visited her. I suspect she'd grown lonely and bitter. You can imagine her shock when she saw you next door.” I opened the photo alb.u.m that I'd brought in from the car. ”Look,” I said, pointing to the picture of the young and pretty Henrietta, ”isn't she your spitting image?”

”Oh, my G.o.d!” Kendra recoiled from the alb.u.m and put her hands over her face.

”Anyway,” I continued, retrieving the alb.u.m, which had fallen next to the pretzels, ”she began making phone calls to Darryl Lindholm, to your adoptive father, to your adoptive mother. Did she call you?”

Kendra dropped her hands. Her face was blotchy and wet with tears. ”No. Why?”

”Then she must have gotten your father's number from your mother,” I said.

”He has a listing,” Kendra replied. ”He just got a phone yesterday.”

”Bad timing,” I murmured. ”Henrietta told all of them the truth about your birth. She may have made demands. Money, perhaps, or simply that she be acknowledged. It sounds as if your adoptive mother went off the deep end. She'd already suffered through having you form an attachment with Carol. Now Carol was gone, but another woman had claimed you as her own. I think your mother snapped and went out to see Henrietta this morning. I also think she'd called on Carol earlier, after receiving a letter from Maybeth Swafford. Maybeth overheard Henrietta and Carol arguing about which one of them was your mother.”

Kendra shuddered. ”A month ago,” she said, her voice dragging. ”It was right after I moved out. Mom was so upset about me leaving-she thought I was too young to be on my own. I came back to the house to get some more of my stuff one afternoon just after the mail delivery. Mom was white as a sheet. I asked her what was wrong-she said that the store had made a mistake on the bill for the new drapes and that Dad would be furious if he thought she'd actually spent that much. It sounded typical, the way they fought over the house all the time, so I didn't think anything about it.”

I nodded. ”It was probably Maybeth's letter, which sent her rus.h.i.+ng off to see Carol. I don't know how Carol would have handled the situation. Maybe she didn't believe what Henrietta had told her about your birth. I suspect that both Kathy and Carol would have been into denial. They may even have formed some sort of bond.”

”Mom never mentioned it,” Kendra said dully.

”The visit to Henrietta turned out differently,” I said, speaking softly. ”Either Kathy called on Henrietta more than once, or she was working at the hospital on earlier attempts. But today, everything went wrong. Henrietta must have rebuffed her, or maybe she was insulting, angry, unmoved by your mother's pleas. Whatever the cause, your mother-your adoptive mother-hit her with a bowling trophy and killed her. It may even have been self-defense. We'll have to wait and see when Kathy regains consciousness.”

Kendra was slumped against the back of the sofa. ”This is a nightmare,” she said in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

”I know. Your adoptive mother's at a difficult age. Some women have terrible emotional problems during menopause.”

Again, Kendra was silent for some time. ”So she killed Carol, too? I can't believe it. I can't believe any of it.”

I shook my head. ”You don't have to believe all of it. I don't think Kathy killed Carol.”

Kendra stared at me. ”Then who did?”

”Henrietta,” I said, then added, ”I know, because of the dog.”

BUDWEISER HAD PLAYED his role in the murder of Carol Stokes. While both Henrietta and Maybeth had complained about the dog, Henrietta had been the most vehement. Perhaps too vehement, because she'd made an effort to soften her stance on Buddy by mentioning that she thought it was cute when Ronnie had put a funny hat on the dog. The remark had struck a false note at the time.

Ronnie had tied Buddy up outside before he left for the bars on the night of Carol's murder. Apparently, the police had never checked Henrietta's alibi, but I was certain that at some point she'd left the hospital. A sixteen-hour s.h.i.+ft is unusual, though Henrietta mentioned something about a nurse who didn't show up. Still, it was only a twenty-minute round-trip from there to the apartment building. Carol, who must have been in a foul mood after the fight with Ronnie, may have telephoned Henrietta at work to have it out with her. Arriving at the apartment, Henrietta would have heard Buddy barking. The dog drove her crazy, so she cut him loose.

”I have a feeling he was tied up with an old drapery cord that Ronnie had taken from the Dumpster out back,” I told Kendra. ”Henrietta brought it with her into Carol's apartment. The women quarreled. Carol may have been tough and capable of beating up on men who didn't feel it was right to fight back, but Henrietta was a big, strong woman. She strangled Carol, and then returned to the hospital.”

”Crazy,” Kendra said in a small voice. ”They're all crazy. And why? It's my fault. They were all fighting over me.”

”Not you, specifically,” I said. ”They were fighting for the right to be a mother. The maternal instinct is very strong, sometimes overpowering. Look at nature-a lioness or a bear or any kind of female animal will do everything she can to protect her young.”

”They weren't protecting me,” Kendra protested. ”They were ruining my life.”

”Yes,” I agreed. ”I didn't say that mothers-or would-be mothers-are always right. Sometimes it's the concept of motherhood. It can be thought of as endowing a woman with an automatic halo. Even the very real sacrifices are made not so much for the child as for the martyrdom the mother achieves. Being a mom is not just about giving- it's about giving up and letting go.”

Perhaps the little homily was aimed at me as much as it was at Kendra.

”I haven't heard so much guesswork since the junior-high spelling bee,” Vida declared the next morning on the way back to Alpine. Our quarrel was forgotten. We both knew that we'd been under a terrible strain. I could never stay mad at Vida, and, fortunately, she could never stay mad at me. ”Still,” she went on, ”all we can do is guess what really happened. With Henrietta dead, there's not much proof, especially about Carol's murder.”

”Enough to spring Ronnie, I hope.” After spending the night at Kendra's apartment, I'd visited him that morning before we left Seattle. As usual, he'd been vague and uncertain. ”At least,” I said as we approached I-5, ”he remembered that the rope he used to tie up Buddy might have been a drapery cord.”

Vida rearranged herself in the pa.s.senger seat. She'd ended up going home with Sam to the house on Ash-worth and sleeping on a handsome but uncomfortable bed in the spare room. ”Sam admitted he'd gone to see Carol the night of the murder rather than that afternoon,” Vida said, readjusting the seat belt over her bust. ”He'd been afraid that he'd be considered a suspect if he confessed he'd been there so close to the time she was killed. Sam thought that it was Carol instead of Maybeth and Henrietta who was upsetting Kathy so badly. He and Carol got into an argument, of course, which is what Maybeth overheard.”

”So Maybeth never heard Henrietta quarreling with Carol before the murder,” I mused. ”I suppose the TV was on too loud.”

Vida lifted one wide shoulder in what I took for agreement. ”After strangling Carol, Henrietta took Kendra's graduation picture off the refrigerator. Of course she'd want that. It's such a milestone in a child's life.”

”And one which no parent can do without,” I noted.

”Someone at the hospital surely will remember if Henrietta disappeared for half an hour or more,” Vida said. ”Particularly if she got a phone call from Carol that sent her racing off.”

”I hope Kathy comes out of that coma,” I remarked as some idiot cut me off in the right-hand lane of the freeway.

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