Tami Hoag: Secrets to the Grave

We should have gone home, Anne thought again. This was a mistake. Why subject Haley—and herself—to this unpleasant woman? Just to be polite? Just to keep the peace? Her tolerance for this kind of social posturing was almost nil, and yet here she was.

Now they were stuck out in a field with Milo Bordain, and Anne realized, well away from the ranch buildings. Well away from the deputy who had brought them out here. A vague sense of unease stirred inside.

We should have gone home ...

100

Vince went back to the SO to speak to Dixon in his office about what Gina Kemmer had told him.

“She said Marissa was involved with Bruce Bordain for about a year. At some point she says Marissa did get pregnant, but then she turned around and admitted that Haley isn’t Marissa’s daughter—or Bruce Bordain’s for that matter.”

“But she was blackmailing him?”

“Yes, but Gina said Marissa was done with it, that she had wanted Bordain to pay for what he’d done to her, but that it wasn’t worth the hassle to her anymore. She was tired of having to live under Milo’s thumb.”

“What had Bruce done to her?” Dixon asked.

Vince shrugged. “I don’t know. She said he killed her.”

Dixon’s brow furrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know. That’s when I got asked to leave,” Vince admitted. “Gina says there’s a lot more to the story. She claims they were trying to do something good.”

“For themselves?”

“For Haley. But Gina thinks Marissa was going to tell the Bordains Bruce wasn’t the father.”

“Four years of child support to a kid that wasn’t his,” Dixon said. “At the rate they were paying her, that’s about a quarter of a million dollars. I have to think that would be enough to piss off anybody—even Bruce.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“He flew to Vegas yesterday.”

“I’d call Vegas PD and see if they can’t sit on him for you,” Vince said. “If there’s anything to this, he’s a definite flight risk.”

“And he was willing to throw his own son under the bus for this,” Dixon said. “That’s cold.”

“I don’t know,” Vince said. “It’s like you said to him yesterday—that’s probably the best spin he could put on it. If the world thinks Darren got Marissa pregnant, that would dispel any rumors about him being gay.”

Dixon’s phone rang before he could even think about it. He hit the button marked Speaker.

“Sheriff, Detective Mendez is on line one. He says it’s urgent.”

Dixon punched line one. “Tony, what have you got for us?”

“Are you sitting down?”

“Yes.”

“We showed the photo array to the postal clerks.”

“Who did they ID?” Vince asked. “Bruce?”

“Milo.”

“I beg your pardon?” Dixon said.

“Milo Bordain. The clerk was adamant about it. I don’t know what to say, boss. I’m not sure what it means.”

Vince felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He was halfway to the door before Dixon could speak.

“Where are you going?”

“Anne took Haley to Bordain’s ranch.”

101

“I didn’t know Marissa,” Anne said. “What was she like?”

“She was lovely, of course,” Milo Bordain said as she brought the food out of the picnic basket. Grapes, cheeses, crackers, bread. Haley was on a mission looking for butterflies. Anne kept one eye on her, making sure she didn’t wander too close to the water.

“She was talented,” Bordain said. “So talented, but headstrong. She could have been internationally known, but she lacked the discipline necessary. I tried to guide her, but she wouldn’t always take the best advice.”

“Do you know a lot about the art world?” Anne asked in all innocence.

“I know talent,” she said defensively. “And I know people. I’m very good at putting the right people together to make things happen. This is partly why I’m so disappointed in Cal Dixon. He could have gone places. Now, after the way he’s botched this investigation ...”

“It isn’t over yet,” Anne said, hoping to defuse Bordain’s rising level of tension. “Things could turn in another direction.”

“They had certainly better,” Milo snapped. “Everything I do for this community, and this is the thanks I get? Having my son’s name dragged through the mud?”

“Haley!” Anne called. “Come have something to eat.”

So we can get the hell out of here .

Haley climbed up on the picnic bench, looked at the spread, and announced, “I don’t like this kind of food.”

“This is a very nice lunch, young lady,” Milo said.

“Have some grapes,” Anne suggested.

“No.”

“How about a cracker?” Anne said.

“No! I wanna go play with my kitties!”

“No playing until after lunch,” Milo declared.

Haley got a mad face. “You can’t tell me. You’re not my mommy!”

The look on Milo’s face frightened Anne. “Don’t you talk back to me, young lady! You’ll grow up to be an arrogant little bitch, just like your mother!”

Haley started to cry.

Anne wanted to lash out at Bordain, but something, some instinct stopped her—self-preservation, fear? All she knew for certain was that it was past time to go. Milo Bordain’s behavior was becoming increasingly erratic.

“I’m sorry,” Anne said to their hostess, getting up from the table. She put an arm around Haley, still standing on the bench. “This is just not the day to do this. I think we should leave.”

Bordain arched a brow. “After I’ve gone to all this trouble?”

“I’m really sorry,” Anne said, “but this is a difficult time for Haley.”

“She’s just being a brat,” Bordain said. “If you would discipline her—”

“It’s not that simple,” Anne said.

“I’ve told you time and again—”

“Mommy Anne ...,” Haley whined. “Mommy Anne—”

“Stop calling her that!” Milo shouted.

Haley sobbed.

“Okay, that’s it,” Anne said. “We’re done here. We’re going home.”

“You can’t just leave,” Milo said. “After I’ve gone to all this trouble—”

“Nobody asked you to go to any trouble,” Anne said.

“Isn’t that just like you?” Bordain said. “You’ve never appreciated anything I’ve ever done for you. You’re nothing but an ungrateful little whore!”

Fear went through Anne like a bolt of lightning. Milo Bordain wasn’t speaking to her. Milo Bordain didn’t know her, had never done anything for her. She was talking to Marissa.

Automatically Anne’s eyes went to the picnic table and the knife that had been left there to slice the bread.

“You think you can just leave me?” Bordain said.

“Mrs. Bordain,” Anne said firmly. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m not Marissa.”

Bordain wasn’t listening. Her mind had gone to a different place. She took a menacing step toward Haley. Anne drew her back a step on the bench.

“Stop it!” Bordain shouted. “Stop that crying!”

“Bad Daddy!” Haley shouted back. “Bad Daddy! You hurt my mommy!”

Oh my God, Anne thought. She meant it. Haley hadn’t mistaken Milo Bordain for her mother’s killer. Milo Bordain was the killer.

Bordain lunged for Haley with both hands, going for her throat. Haley screamed. Anne swept her off the bench, set her on the ground, and shouted, “Run, Haley! Run for help!”

Terrified, Haley ran a few steps and turned around, sobbing, “Mommy! Mommy, no!!”

Milo Bordain was six feet tall and outweighed Anne by a good fifty pounds. When she grabbed Anne by the hair and slapped her, Anne saw stars. Bordain pulled her arm back to hit her again. Anne dropped to her knees, pulling the bigger woman off balance and loosening her hold.