J. Jance - Hand of Evil

“Hey, Mom,” he said. “How’s it going?”

There was no sense in attempting to play coy. “Tell me about Athena,” Ali returned.

Chris’s handsome face fell. “Who blabbed?” he asked. “Grandma?”

“Who’s Athena?” Ali insisted. “And what’s wrong with her?”

Chris picked Sam up off the couch and then sat down in the same spot with the cat ensconced in his lap. “What makes you think something’s wrong with her?”

“Because you didn’t tell me about her.”

“I wanted you to meet her first so you could make up your own mind,” Chris said. “I didn’t want you to have any preconceived ideas about her. Besides, you’ve been so busy with Crystal Holman and everything…”

Not that busy! Ali thought. “But Grandpa and Grandma have already met her?” she asked.

Chris shrugged. “We went to the Sugarloaf for breakfast the other morning,” Chris said. “She loves the sweet rolls.”

“But since we’re all meeting for dinner tonight, you also knew that you couldn’t keep her a secret forever. Tell me. Tell me everything.”

“She’s older,” Chris said guardedly.

“How much older?”

“Six years.”

Ali was relieved. It could have been a lot worse. “That’s not so bad,” she said. “Where did you meet her?”

“At school. She teaches math-algebra, geometry, trig, calculus.”

That was a surprise. Chris had fallen for a math major? Ali’s idea of advanced mathematics was balancing her checkbook.

“What else?”

“Mom, what do you mean ‘what else?’ Why the third degree?”

For the first time Ali realized that she had been blessed-or maybe cursed-with some of her mother’s abilities at discernment.

“Because there’s more you’re not telling me.”

“She’s divorced,” Chris admitted. “But that was finalized last summer, before I even met her.”

“Kids?”

“No kids.”

Ali sighed. “That’s a relief.”

“But she’d make a great mother,” Chris put in quickly.

“I’m sure she would,” Ali agreed. “So that’s it? That’s everything?”

Chris paused. “Not exactly,” he admitted finally.

Ali had tried to raise her son to be open-minded. She had welcomed friends of all shapes, sizes, and races into their home.

That’s it, she thought. I’m about to have my very own Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? moment.

“What exactly?” Ali prompted.

For a long moment Chris sat stroking Sam’s silky fur saying nothing. “She was in Iraq,” he said finally. “She went there with the Minnesota National Guard.”

“She’s a soldier, then?”

“Was a soldier,” Chris said. “Her Humvee got hit by an IED while she was riding shotgun. She’s a double amputee. She lost her right leg above the knee and her right arm above the elbow.”

That was not what Ali had been expecting-not even close. For a moment Ali said nothing. She had hoped that Chris would somehow avoid her checkered marital experience and find his way to the perfect suburban life with a lovely wife, a couple of cute kids, and even a dog or cat or two. But this didn’t sound lovely at all. She couldn’t dodge the unwelcome juxtaposition between this and what Deb Springer had told her about Bill Ashcroft Junior’s amputated hand.

“But you wouldn’t know it,” Chris continued cheerfully. “She’s terrific, Mom. I know you’ll like her. She bowls better than I do-left-handed, and she’s hoping to play basketball again, but that’s a lot harder.”

Ali looked at Chris. As he talked about the girl, his face glowed with excitement. And happiness.

“You’re really serious about her, aren’t you?”

Chris paused. “I didn’t mean to be,” he said. “It’s just that she’s different from the other girls I’ve dated. A lot more…I don’t know. A lot more grown up, I guess.”

“What happened to her husband?”

“He was in the National Guard, too. That’s where they met-basic training. She got sent to Iraq; he didn’t. He got involved with someone else while she was deployed. Dumped her with a Dear Jane letter while she was still recovering at Walter Reed. That’s why she left Minnesota and came here. Her ex still lives there with his new wife.”

Ali looked at Chris as though he was a stranger. In the blink of an eye, he had gone from being a boy to being a man-a man whose mind was made up.

“When did you know?” Ali asked.

“Know what?”

“That she was the one.”

“The first time I saw her,” Chris said. “At the very first faculty meeting back in August. She walked in the door, and I knew. It took me a while to work up the nerve to ask her out.”

Love at first sight, Ali thought. That was what had happened to her with Dean, and with Dean it had worked. That instant attraction had sustained them both through all the tough times that had come along later.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” Ali asked. “Why have you kept it under wraps all this time?”

Chris chewed on his lower lip before he answered. “To begin with, you were going through that whole divorce mess,” he said. “Then, after Paul died and you were, well, upset, it just didn’t seem fair for me to be falling in love when your life was in the toilet.”

Hearing that made Ali’s heart wince. He had kept Athena a secret from her because he was trying to protect her. That was Chris, all right-thoughtful to a fault.

“It sounds as though you’re taking on a lot,” Ali said.

Chris nodded. “But wait ’til you meet her, Mom. You’re going to love her as much as I do.”

Ali reached over and patted her son’s knee. “I’m sure you’re right,” she said. “And I’m sure I will.”

Eager to change the subject, Chris glanced at Ali’s computer. “Working on cutloose?” he asked.

“I’m actually doing some research on Arabella Ashcroft and her family,” Ali said.

“How come?”

“Her nephew was murdered down in Phoenix this week. I think he was threatening to blow the lid off some long-buried family secret, and I think that’s why he’s dead. So I’m looking into the Ashcroft archives. The problem is, they were prominent members of the California business establishment for decades. I have a feeling there’s going to be tons of material. The trick will be boiling it down and figuring out if any of it is relevant.”

“Want some help?”

“Please,” Ali said. “I’d really appreciate it.”

“Hang on,” Chris said. “I’ll go get my laptop.”

In a little less than an hour of working on the project, Chris had amassed an astonishing amount of material on the Ashcroft clan-their various businesses, charitable events, and forays into southern California’s high society. He gathered the articles from various sources, printed them, and handed them over to Ali, who read through them one at a time.

For ease of study, Ali sorted the assembled articles into stacks, one for each person involved. It didn’t take long for Ali to realize that the Ashcroft menfolk were definitely front and center in all this while the women faded into the background. There was far more information about Anna Lee Askins Ashcroft after she had moved to Sedona than there had been while she was still in California. It was as though she had been forced to move to another state in order to come into her own right.

It was in one of the Anna Lee articles where Ali found a first mention of the Mosberg Institute. Anna Lee was cited several times as a leading benefactress for the Mosberg Institute. Later she was quoted briefly in a much longer article from the Paso Robles Herald, dated March 20, 1956, which discussed the previous week’s fatal fire: