Your Eyes Don't Lie Page 17

His eyes widened. “And a swing?”

  “Maybe. Well, a friend of Lily’s has a house, and she’d like some roommates. I’ve been thinking we could try it out and see if we like it. If we hate it, we’d just move back to our apartment.”

  “Are you talking about Brette?” A grin spread across his face. “I heard her talking to Lily about being scared. I told her I was never scared because you were around. But don’t worry. I didn’t tell her about your gun.”

  Makay groaned inside. “Good. But I hope the gun isn’t the only reason you aren’t scared.”

  “You always take care of me.” Nate put an arm around her neck. “That’s why I’m not scared. And Snoop isn’t either.”

  “So do you want to go look at the house?”

  “Sure!”

  As they drove to Phoenix, Makay had more time to consider her situation with Harrison. Could she throw herself on Lenny’s mercy and ask him to find another target? She didn’t have much hope of that going over well. Regardless, she was not going to let Lenny take advantage of Harrison’s family. One option was to report Lenny to the police, but there was still that file he claimed to have that implicated her—and being familiar with the care he used to create the manila folders he always gave her, there was no doubt in her mind that it existed. So turning Lenny in simply wasn’t an option if she wanted to remain free to take care of Nate. Unless she somehow broke into Lenny’s apartment and got rid of it.

  The address for Sherry’s mother’s friend wasn’t exactly on the way to Brette’s house, but it was in Phoenix, and the detour to the apartment wouldn’t take her too far out of the way. All the way there, she questioned the wisdom of going to see this stranger without Harrison, and by the time she arrived, she still didn’t feel comfortable with her choice.

  Nate eyed the four-story apartment building. “This isn’t a house.”

  Makay looked up and down the road where a group of scantily-dressed men were smoking near a dilapidated palm tree. “Oh, sorry. I have to talk with a lady here first. If she’s home. I didn’t want to come after we went to see the house because they might be having dinner or something.”

  “Do I have to come in?”

  “Yes. But you can bring a book.”

  With the tortured sigh of a victim, Nate dragged himself from the car, bringing the book Harold and the Purple Crayon.

  Inside the building, they found Audrey Phillips, the woman they were looking for, sitting in a large bed and staring at a tiny television on top of a dresser. The dark room was so small that the bed barely fit inside, shoved up against a bookshelf and a narrow window. Every surface of the bookshelf and dresser, and even the windowsill, was filled with knickknacks and other pieces of a woman’s life.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” said the woman’s granddaughter, who had let them in. Makay was glad she left the door open because it made the room feel slightly less confining.

  Audrey was a brown, wrinkled, walnut of a woman, who peered at them with dark eyes. Her white hair was so thin that her mottled scalp showed through. “Is it time for dinner?”

  Makay indicated to Nate that he could sit in the small space between the dresser and the bed, and he did, his head tilting way back and his eyes riveting to the television game show that was playing.

  “I’m a friend of Harrison Matthews,” Makay said to the old woman. “I’m here to ask you some questions about his mother, Sherry Matthews. She used to be Sherry Brocker?”

  Audrey concentrated, her wrinkles becoming more pronounced. “Ah, you mean Edith’s daughter.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good kid, but she had no taste in men, not until the last one.” The old woman frowned. “Didn’t know how to keep them from taking advantage of her. Just like her mother in that respect.”

  “So you know about the babies.”

  “Oh, yeah. She was lucky she didn’t end up with either of the fathers. First one was a no-good bum on drugs and the second was married.” Her white head swung back and forth slowly. “She was too naive to learn anything the first time. Good thing she found someone to take care of her and the little boy.”

  “Harrison,” Makay supplied. “Do you know what happened to the second baby?”

  “Edith never told me, but I know what happened. Sherry was a sweet kid, always so loving to her mother and to her little boy. She wanted her baby to have a better life.” Audrey’s eyes met hers, and Makay could see that the brown of her eyes was covered by cloudy growths.

  “I went to Edith’s once,” Audrey continued, “and Sherry was there crying in the bathroom, stomach clear out to here.” Her hand shook as she showed Makay. “That was the first I knew of the baby, but I’d seen her around with the father before she got big. He’d left her long before that. Anyway, she was crying and hugging her stomach while the little boy ate cookies in the kitchen with Edith. Cried like her heart was breaking. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she couldn’t keep the baby, but she didn’t know if she could live without her.” Again the shaking of her head. “About broke my heart. Musta been when she made the decision.”

  The image of Sherry Matthews mourning the baby she would never raise made Makay feel achy inside, as though glimpsing something she could never have. She knew that feeling too well. Her entire life she’d reached for things, but always what she wanted was just out of grasp. Only Nate had filled part of her longing.

  Makay blinked hard. “The decision to place the baby for adoption, you mean.”

  “I think so. Sherry was too kind for anything else. And in the end, she did go on with her life. That’s what women do. They pick up the pieces, care for the babies, and go on—no matter how bad they’re hurting inside.” Audrey spoke with such authority that Makay wondered what had happened in the old woman’s life to bring her that kind of knowledge.

  “Made me downright happy the next year when Sherry got married to that air conditioner guy,” Audrey said after a few seconds of silence. “Edith died happy because of that, God rest her soul.”

  They were quiet a few moments and then Makay couldn’t help asking. “The baby’s father. You said you saw them together—him and Sherry. Do you know his name?”

  “No, but I have a picture. Hand me that book there. Second to the end.”

  Makay squeezed past Nate, who’d lost interest in the game show and had opened his book. She grabbed the photo album and passed it to Audrey, her fingers twitching anxiously as she waited for the old woman to find the picture. If Sherry was her mother, this man would be her father. Makay didn’t know how to feel about that after hearing what Audrey said about him. Obviously, he wouldn’t be ready to welcome her into his life any more than Sherry was.

  Sherry, who had cried bitterly and thought she couldn’t live without her baby.

  Audrey held out the album. “It was the little boy’s second birthday. Edith and I were there, and so was he. I was the only one with a camera and they asked me to take some pictures. Funny thing is, that man didn’t show up in any of the pictures except this one. Guess he was camera shy. Sherry should have known then that he was fixin’ to dump her when he was finished having his fun. Took me a couple months to get the pictures developed and by that time he was gone. Edith wouldn’t take this picture to Sherry with the others. Didn’t want to make her sad.”

  Makay’s insides felt weak, but her hands were steady as she took the album. She peered at the dark picture for a moment, looking at the man. He was in a corner of the picture, barely in the frame, positioned as if he were moving away. Recognition seeped through her and with it came hope. She knew him! Even in this poor picture and all the years separating him from the man he was now, Makay knew him. He was a lot younger and his face was blurry, but it was him. In the picture, Sherry gazed in his direction, her face bright as if he held all her hopes and dreams. And maybe he had.

  Audrey’s eyesight might be obscured by whatever made her eyes cloudy, but she asked, “What’s wrong, dear?”

  Makay shook h
er head. “Do you . . . know when the baby was born?”

  “I don’t remember, but it was sometime that year. She might have already been expecting.”

  “Do you think I can take this to make a copy? I’ll bring it back. I’d like to give it to Harrison.”

  Audrey waved a hand. “Keep it. I don’t need it. I only have it because I didn’t want to throw away Edith’s grandson. You go ahead and give it to him. I won’t be around much longer.” She made a face. “It stinks getting older, you know, but at least I got my granddaughter. She’s kinder to me than most might be. I know it ain’t fun taking care of an old lady.”

  Makay commiserated and thanked her for the picture. As they exited the building, Nate said, “It smelled really funny in her room. Like Sally. Is that because they’re both so old?”

  Makay thought about the old woman from her apartment building, forever asking to put her purchases on the tab she never paid. “Maybe.” She suspected the smell was impending death, instead of age, but she didn’t want to upset Nate.

  In the car, she studied the faded photograph again. But all at once the man’s face wasn’t familiar, and it looked nothing like Blaine Cooper, the man in the town of Gilbert who she’d picked up money from last week. The man who had threatened to send someone to “take care” of her if she tried to shake him down for more cash. How had she thought it looked anything like him? Probably because she’d wanted to see his face or someone else who absolutely could not be connected to her. While the contents of his folder had already faded in with the dozens of others she’d studied over the years, she would have remembered if the details had matched hers. If he’d been the birth father of Sherry’s baby’s, Makay would for sure have no blood connection to Harrison’s family.

  She looked away from the photograph and back again. No, this blurry face could be anyone.

  Great. The disappointment made her want to give it all up and run away so fast and far that no one would ever find her or Nate. Harrison was worth fighting for, but more and more it was looking like there was no possibility of having him.

  In a depressed silence, she drove to Brette’s house in the west part of Phoenix. The neighborhood was filled with old houses, four of which could probably fit inside Harrison’s parents’ house, but almost every yard was trimmed, the houses well kept, and she could see children playing. She even had to slow down in one part of the subdivision to avoid a game of soccer going on in the street. It made her smile. She’d played soccer in the street when she was a child, usually the last one to head home. Maybe she’d even laughed like those little girls in the park in Gilbert.

  The burden on Makay’s chest lightened. Her stepmother had rented a house several blocks over before her death, but this area had a better feel to it. “Here we are,” she said as she pulled up at a small, one-story house covered with brown stucco that looked almost pink in the light from the clouds covering the sun. The front yard was all decorative rock, relieved by a few trees, and in the center was a birdhouse attached to a log. Wood fencing obscured most of the backyard, but Makay caught a glimpse of green there and hoped for grass.

  “Cool!” Nate was out of the car in an instant, trying to look into the birdhouse that was way too high for him. Makay lifted him up to peer inside.

  “Come on,” she said. “We still need to get home and feed Snoop.”

  They wove between pots of succulent desert plants placed every so often along the walk. Two larger pots with huge aloe veras stood on either side of the door. Brette answered on the first ring.

  “Oh, great! You’re here. It’s beginning to get a little dark inside with all those clouds overhead. Is it me or are they looking like rain?”

  “Probably.”

  Brette’s long hair was pulled into a braid, and her capris were coated with dust. She slapped at the dust without result. “I’m still going through my mother’s things in the garage. It’s amazing what you collect in a lifetime.” She frowned. “Even though hers was far too short.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Brette shrugged. “My mother was a beautiful person, and I loved her very much, but she was also sad much of the time. I think it had something to do with my father, but she would never talk about it. Maybe they’re together now. I like to think so.” She opened the door. “Sorry for keeping you out there while I blab. Come on in. I can’t wait to show you the guest room. Oh, and I wanted you to know that you were right. Those papers I showed you at Lily’s were bank statements from a foreign country. Portugal, to be exact. I’m having a guy look at them soon to translate.”

  “I’m glad I could help.”

  The house smelled faintly of flowers, though there were none in sight as Brette showed them the guest room that held a big bed and a dresser. “It’s a little small, but one of you can move into my room once I transfer over to my mother’s.”

  “Are you kidding?” Makay laughed. “This is bigger than our room now. And Nate sleeps with me anyway. For now.”

  Nate ran to the bed. “It’s a real bed. It’s not on the floor!”

  Makay flushed and was relieved when Brette only said, “I know you probably have furniture, and there is room in the garage to store some things, but the house is all furnished. I hope that’s okay.”

  “More than okay.”

  “You’ll have your own bathroom,” Brette added. “I’ve already moved my stuff to the master bath.”

  The house was simple, but to Makay it felt like a home. Despite what Brette had said about her mother, there had been love and happiness within these walls, she was sure of it. The best part for Makay was the bathtub, but the large pantry in the kitchen and the lack of knife marks on the countertop came in a close second and third. Nate raved about the yard where he and Snoop could play whenever they wanted.

  “Do you think we could have a swing set?” he asked Brette.

  Brette glanced at Makay and said, “If you guys want. I had one out there a long time ago, but it got too old and we had to tear it down.”

  The partially covered porch Brette had referred to held the washer and dryer, and that half was enclosed on all sides but one. “We had a couch out here, and sometimes we’d sit and sip lemonade or something,” Brette recalled. “We used it as a sitting room at night, especially when it wasn’t too hot. But the couch got old and we threw it out, and now there’s just this rocker.”

  Makay grinned. “I have a couch we could put here.”

  After a little searching, Makay discovered the house breaker box in the guest room closet and located the tripped switch. “Sometimes they just trip,” she said, “but if it keeps happening, you’ll have to call someone in to figure out why.”

  Brette shook her head. “All the years I lived here, and I never knew it was there.”

  Makay wished she and Nate could move in right now and never look back at the old apartment, but she had to be cautious. She hadn’t even talked to him about changing schools. That would be hard for him, but with eight months to go in the school year, they’d have to switch him over. For now, until they were sure Brette’s place would work out, Makay would drive him to the same school.

  There goes more gas. She clamped down on the worry. Her job at least was in Phoenix and a bit closer. “Thanks,” she said to Brette, trying to remain impassive, which was difficult to do at the moment. All the emotion of the past few days had left her unbalanced. Hopeful one minute, scraping bottom the next.

  “You’re welcome, but can I ask you if you really are as good at grocery shopping as Lily says? I love to cook, but I hate shopping. She says you know where all the deals are.”

  Makay laughed. “I really do. Don’t worry. I’ll show you.” With all the time she’d spent with Harrison and worrying about Lenny, she’d have to start cracking down on herself and map out her buying strategy for next week. She couldn’t afford to begin paying for items she could easily get for free. Good thing her cupboards had an ample supply of the most necessary staples.

  “I’ll see y
ou tomorrow,” she told Brette, palming the key Brette gave her. Outside, the clouds were darker now, definitely threatening rain, and she hurried Nate to the Sebring.

  “What do you want for dinner?” she asked as they drove back to Mesa. “I need to stop at Walmart for a few things, but then we’ll go right home.”

  “Chili?” he suggested. “We could invite Sally.” They both laughed.

  Makay’s laughter died as she spied the photograph of Harrison and his mother on the dash and all her fears came rushing back. She’d make a copy for herself at Walmart before she turned it over to Harrison.

  She had to begin making real progress on her case against Lenny, even if she had to tail him all over town after their meeting tonight.

  And I have to tell Harrison, she thought. Something inside her broke at the thought.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Harrison knew he should call Makay first, but he didn’t want her to say no. After all, she’d gone to work and school and had to take care of Nate—plus she’d been sick. Besides, if she’d somehow found time to work in a little sleuthing, his showing up with dinner would only pay her back for her time. He told himself that he wouldn’t stay if she didn’t seem happy to see him.

  He made only one detour on his way home, a drive by his apartment to see if another note had appeared on his mother’s Beetle. But there was nothing. Did that mean whoever it was had a day job? Or did they know he usually worked late and were unwilling to risk anyone else finding the note? He simply didn’t know. Maybe Makay had better luck with her research. He glanced at the time on his phone. He’d left work earlier than he’d intended, planning to make up the time tomorrow, but if he didn’t hurry, she might eat before he got there.

  He chose Chinese food, and then, when he recalled one of his coworkers complaining about how her kids never wanted to eat anything she slaved over, he stopped and bought a hamburger just in case. While he waited for the burger, his phone rang.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi.” She paused and said a little breathlessly, “Any word?”