Czytaj książkę: «Resorting To The Truth»

For anyone searching for their roots, may you find happiness in whatever you discover

Acknowledgment

A special thank-you to my friend Chief David Parenti, Belmont Fire Department, Belmont, New Hampshire, for sharing his incredible knowledge about fire procedures. Any mistakes are entirely my own.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgment

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

Two months ago

CHARLOTTE HARRINGTON SAT alone in her living room, clutching the sealed envelope bearing her name, which was written in her deceased mother’s handwriting. The August sun had set a while ago. The only illumination in her Newport, Rhode Island, home was the fluorescent bulb in the lamp on the end table next to her.

She had no idea how much time had passed since her recently discovered twin sister, Allie Miller, had left with Charlotte’s neighbor, Jack Fletcher. They’d helped Charlotte unload her car after she’d returned from her Boston art show and wanted to give her privacy as she read her mother’s last words.

Charlotte placed the envelope on her lap and wiped her damp palms on her jeans. She’d crinkled the edge of the envelope from grasping it so tightly the moment she’d found it buried in a box of ticket stubs and other memorabilia her mother had saved. If not for the phone call that evening from Felicia Malone, a woman who claimed Charlotte’s mother had been seeing Felicia’s husband nearly three decades ago, Charlotte wouldn’t have gone searching for clues to the truth in her mother’s memory box. Charlotte had stored the box under her bed to sort through later, thinking nothing of significance was inside. The way the letter had been hidden under other memorabilia, she could only assume she wasn’t supposed to find it until after her mother’s passing. The idea made Charlotte even more curious about the letter’s contents.

During their phone conversation, Felicia had claimed that once a week, before Charlotte was born, her husband and Charlotte’s mother would meet at a movie theater and then go to a hotel room afterward.

Charlotte sniffed. More than a year had passed since losing her single, adoptive mother, but the grief Charlotte thought she had under control rolled over her like a tsunami.

She ran a finger across her name on the envelope. The stationery was familiar. Her mother had obviously written the letter shortly before her passing. Charlotte had supplied the stationery when her mother had wanted to write notes to friends after her health had begun to quickly decline. Her mother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died a few months later.

Turning the pale yellow envelope over, Charlotte noticed the flap was barely sealed. Her lips twitched slightly. Mom had disliked the taste of envelope glue.

Charlotte slipped a finger under the flap and broke the seal. Even before she removed the contents, she could tell there were several handwritten pages.

She wiped her damp hands on her jeans again and pulled the pages from the envelope. She unfolded the letter, which featured a bouquet of white daisies—her mother’s favorite flower—in the upper-right corner of the first page. Charlotte recognized her mother’s tiny penmanship instantly. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began reading.

My dearest Charlotte,

As you read this letter, please know that my love for you knows no bounds. Even in death, which I know is imminent, my love for you will never end.

Tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes, her mother’s words too blurry to read. She blinked a few times and wiped away the tears running down her cheeks. Why hadn’t she grabbed some tissues before she sat down?

She sniffed and continued.

I’ve always been honest with you about your adoption, but there are details I’ve left out. Details I always thought I’d have time to explain, but I don’t want to add to your burden with my illness coming on so quickly. Hopefully, you are reading this after you’ve recovered emotionally.

You and I have talked openly about your adoption. How I brought you home as an infant, and you’ve been the light of my life ever since. But there are things I didn’t tell you. Maybe because I selfishly wanted you all to myself. It was always you and me against the world. I have no excuse that will make up for not telling you that you have a twin sister.

She had known! Charlotte tossed the letter aside, unable to continue as the sudden anger at her mother roiled inside her. No wonder she’d hidden this letter for Charlotte to find later. Her mother must have known how betrayed Charlotte would feel.

Why had her mother kept Charlotte’s twin sister, Allie, a secret? The sisters had lost out on so many years together because they hadn’t known about each other.

Charlotte and Allie had met by accident at a wedding two months ago, twenty-nine years after they’d been adopted by different families. Charlotte’s existence had been a huge surprise to Allie’s adoptive mother, but apparently Charlotte’s mother had always known.

Charlotte stood and paced in front of her sofa, clenching and unclenching her fists. Why on earth would her mother have kept such news from her? The entire time Allie and Charlotte had been looking for confirmation of their relationship, Charlotte had been positive her mother had been clueless about Allie.

Charlotte needed to know more. She picked up the letter from the sofa and continued reading, still pacing the room.

I want you to be able to find your sister, so you need to know that you weren’t born in upstate New York like your birth certificate says, but in Rhode Island. The lawyer who handled your adoption, Gerard Stone, had a forged birth certificate made for you at my request. It’s the birth certificate you’ve used your entire life, and I always dreaded the day someone would realize it was fake. But that never happened. Thankfully, it was never necessary for you to apply for a replacement.

You were born in Cranston, Rhode Island. The lawyer dealt with many female inmates at the correctional institute there who found themselves pregnant while incarcerated and wanted to put their newborns up for adoption. I met Gerry Stone when I worked at Malone and Malone, the CPA firm in the same shopping center as Gerry’s office.

Charlotte and Allie had already uncovered most of this information. The fact that it was the now-deceased Gerard Stone who had arranged for the forged birth certificate was the only new information. Allie and Charlotte had originally suspected they might be cousins and not twins because though they were unmistakably identical and born on the same day, they were born in different states.

Or so they thought until they were able to track down their original birth certificates in the lawyer’s files a few weeks ago. That ascertained they were twins, both born in Rhode Island, and then confirmed by the DNA results she and Allie had received in the mail that very day.

I was well aware that Gerry did things that weren’t quite legal.

No kidding. Forging a birth certificate, selling babies, separating twins. Those were probably only a few of his transgressions. Who knew what else that man had been up to?

I must admit I never would have dealt with him if not for the man who was the love of my life.

Huh? Charlotte’s mother had never mentioned a man. Oh, a few she’d dated in high school and college, but no one she had been serious about. Was she talking about Felicia’s husband?

Hank was a good man, a very good man, and he loved me, too. If he hadn’t already had a wife and children, he would have married me. Instead, I made him choose and he stayed with them. I understood, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. When Hank made his choice, I found another job because he and his wife owned the CPA firm I worked for.

This was all before you were born. I never could have adopted you without Hank’s help. He gave me the money I needed for the adoption. Not a loan, a gift. That’s how much he loved me. He didn’t want me to be alone and knew how much I desperately wanted a child, a family, because, as you know, I have no living relatives.

Charlotte had been a parting gift. Instead of jewelry, he’d helped her mother buy a baby to ease his conscience. A thirty-thousand-dollar payoff.

Hank died a few years ago, and I sat in the back of the church during his funeral. I left before the family filed past so I wouldn’t cause them more pain. As much as I will miss you, I look forward to reuniting with Hank when my time comes.

Charlotte paused. She had felt that her mother had given up after being diagnosed. Was Hank the reason why? She could have gone through an experimental treatment, but her mother had decided not to explore the option.

I hope you can find a way to forgive me for not sharing this information with you years ago. The more time that passed, the harder it became to tell you because I knew you’d be hurt and angry. Losing you and your respect would have been more than I could have endured.

Several years ago, I began a search for your birth mother. I thought you might someday want to know your family medical history. Your mother’s name is Barbara Sherwood. Unfortunately, she died from a drug overdose a few years after you were born. She didn’t name a father on your original birth certificate. I have no idea whether you have any other living relatives or where your twin sister is, but I hope you will take this information and find her so you’re not alone.

Again, I hope you will someday be able to forgive me and remember that everything I have ever done was because of my love for you.

Charlotte read the letter a second time and then dropped it onto the coffee table. She put her hands over her face and shook her head.

Her mother had lied to her. Not just a little lie, but a series of lies that had continued nearly three decades.

No wonder her mother had hidden this letter for Charlotte to find after her mother’s death.

Charlotte had believed her mother was the epitome of honesty. She had recently bragged to Allie that her mother would never have kept her twin’s existence a secret if she’d known about it. She was the kind of person who would return to a store if she’d been given too much change, just to correct the mistake.

Charlotte’s text message alert sounded on her cell phone. She picked up the phone from the dining room table. The message was from Allie.

Checking to make sure you’re okay. Jack and I are here if you need us.

She’d been truly blessed to have found Allie, and their meeting had been purely accidental. Charlotte’s friend Jack had taken her to a family wedding. His cousin was marrying Allie’s younger brother. After Jack confused Allie for Charlotte a few times, both he and Charlotte met Allie. Charlotte found her sister, and Jack fell in love with Allie. Charlotte couldn’t be happier for the two of them. In fact, she and Allie’s mother, who had warmly embraced Charlotte like a daughter, had been instrumental in getting them to face their feelings for each other.

She looked at Allie’s message on her phone again. What should she say? She was too exhausted physically and emotionally to talk right now.

Thanks. I appreciate it. Will talk to you in the morning.

Charlotte sent the message and headed upstairs to bed, leaving her mother’s letter on the coffee table.

CHAPTER TWO

Two months later

ALLIE MILLER SAT in her office Thursday morning and checked her calendar. A thing she hadn’t done since September had rolled into October at the end of last week. It wasn’t as though she had a lot on the calendar, unfortunately. One thing stood out, though. The advertising conference she’d registered for months ago was in two days. Which meant she probably had an email this morning telling her she could check in electronically for her flight tomorrow.

Damn. She’d forgotten all about it. She’d signed up for it back when she’d been optimistic about her financial future and still worked at DP Advertising. Before she nearly joined her former boyfriend in federal prison, thanks to his extortion scheme that she hadn’t been aware of until after the guy’s arrest. That was followed by her being unfairly let go from DP because everyone assumed she’d known about it and was somehow involved.

She sighed. The conference would be worthwhile, but she didn’t want to spend a week away from Jack. Not to mention the toll it would take on her bank account. After being blacklisted in the ad industry, she had opened her own agency and didn’t have much money to spare.

Allie made a few phone calls, ending with a call to Jack at his office at Empire Advertising, his grandfather’s successful firm.

“Hey,” she said when he answered.

“Miss me already?” His tone was teasing. “I just dropped you off.” They had settled into a routine where they stayed in her Providence, Rhode Island, high-rise apartment during the week and spent the weekends at Jack’s house in Newport. A bonus was having her newly discovered twin sister, Charlotte, right across the street from him.

She explained to Jack about the conference. “So I’ve paid for the airfare, which is nonrefundable, and the conference people told me I couldn’t get a refund at this late date. I can still cancel the hotel room because I really don’t want to go.”

“It would be a great trip to make together,” he said. “I was dealing with Granddad’s health when I heard about the conference and decided I shouldn’t be that far away from him.” His maternal grandfather, now living comfortably in an assisted-living facility in Providence, had raised Jack. His grandfather had banished Jack’s father when it was revealed that his father’s latest affair with one of his college students had precipitated the argument between Jack’s parents—an argument that led to his mother’s fatal car accident.

“How weird would it have been if we’d met at this conference instead of the wedding?” She laughed.

“We would have lost all this time together,” he reminded her. “You know, if you don’t feel you can afford it, I can help you out.”

“It’s partially the money, since I haven’t been able to snag a big-name client like John Wentworth or Raymond Foster to keep my company afloat. But truthfully, I’d miss Harvey.” She was teasing about their rescue dog, but she didn’t want to get too mushy by telling Jack she’d miss him terribly. Their relationship still felt too new to jump ahead too quickly.

“You’d miss Harvey?” The humor in his voice came through clearly.

“Sure. I’ve gotten quite attached to him.”

“Glad to hear it.” He chuckled. “Hey, what about Charlotte?”

“What about her?”

“You were looking for something to get her out of this funk. What about giving her the trip? She wouldn’t have to attend the conference, but it’s a week’s vacation on an island.”

“What about the plane ticket? I can’t put it in her name.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “See if you can get a credit. I’ll pay for a new flight once Charlotte agrees to go.”

The idea was a good one. They’d both been troubled about Charlotte’s well-being since her mother’s letter. Charlotte was consumed with grief and anger; her therapist had been unable to help her cope. Charlotte was determined to keep searching for their biological relatives and had emailed and left messages over social media for anyone who might know or be related to their mother, Barbara Sherwood. Allie thought her motivation was because Charlotte was still angry her adoptive mother had known about Allie and never told Charlotte.

“I’ll also chip in for the hotel room,” he added. “Tell Charlotte she can relax and Allie Miller will just not show up for the conference.”

“That’s perfect!” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it herself. Her sister had been so good to her since they’d met, and this trip would be a nice way to repay her. “This is really a great idea, Jack. She’s been spending a lot of time searching for our other biological relatives, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been working much. I’m worried. Her next art show is in a few weeks and I don’t see how she’ll be ready.”

“Then make sure she accepts the trip.”

“Trust me, I’ll make sure she does.”

“You are pretty persuasive,” he teased and then changed the subject. “Why don’t we plan a road trip to Vermont this weekend? The leaves are probably almost gone, but we could find a bed-and-breakfast and do some wine tasting and eat apple everything.”

She groaned. “That sounds wonderful. You’re pretty persuasive yourself. So much better than a conference by myself. I’ll call Charlotte now.”

* * *

CHARLOTTE SWITCHED THE phone to her other ear as she walked barefoot across her living room, through the dining room and into the kitchen. “A vacation? Now? I don’t know, Allie. I’m not really in the mood for traveling.”

“Come on,” Allie persisted. “You’ll have a great time. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

“It’s been a while,” she admitted reluctantly. Probably some time before Charlotte’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer a year and a half ago. Charlotte didn’t count the emotional weekend at the beach she’d spent with her mother after the doctors had confirmed her mom had only a few months left to live. Plenty of time for her mother to have shared what she knew about Charlotte’s twin sister.

“All the more reason you should go.”

Charlotte had never vacationed alone. What would she do? She didn’t even go to movies by herself or dine in a restaurant at a table for one. That’s what Netflix and drive-throughs were for. “Thanks anyway. I appreciate the thought.”

“Come on, Charlotte, you know you want to go. You need this. Take the time to relax and get a fresh perspective.”

Could she resist such a fabulous opportunity? “I have so much to do,” Charlotte lamented. “I’m showing again next month, and I still have three more pieces I want to add to my inventory. I haven’t even started them.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you had beautiful sunset vistas, as well as birds and trees and a bunch of other stuff for inspiration?”

Charlotte realized she was smiling at the thought, and her adrenaline kicked in. She was known for her pastels, but she’d been in a creative downswing from the moment of her mother’s diagnosis, stuck on charcoal as her preferred medium. The stark black with shades of gray on a white background echoed her current view of the world. Things had gotten worse after reading her mother’s letter.

“Is your computer nearby?” Allie asked. “I just sent you some pics of the private island, Sapodilla Cay, off the Florida coast.”

Charlotte reluctantly pulled up the pictures on her laptop. Unexpectedly, the myriad of colors in the tropical island sunset called to her. “I have been hoping to get back into pastels and—”

“You can have a working vacation.” Allie took Charlotte’s comment as agreement. “Pack your art supplies and your bathing suit. I’ll email you the ticket so you can check in. The flight leaves at noon tomorrow.”

Charlotte laughed. The situation was absurd. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You deserve it. You’ve been there for me. I couldn’t have gotten that Fairleigh account without your help, not to mention meeting Jack. Please let me do this for you. Let us—Jack and me—do this for you.”

Charlotte hesitated, but the pull of the ocean views nagged her. “This is really sweet of you, Allie. You’re such a thoughtful sister. I guess—”

“I told Jack I could convince you.” Allie’s voice came through loud and clear before Charlotte could actually agree. “Go do whatever you need to do to get ready.”

“Thank you, Allie.”

“You’re very welcome. That’s what sisters are for.”

The thought saddened her again—exactly the opposite of Allie’s intent. But Charlotte couldn’t help thinking how many years they’d missed as sisters, thanks to her mother.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Charlotte wanted to crawl back into bed. She’d barely slept after going over all the details of this crazy, unexpected vacation. Partly because she was determined to enjoy the experience and leave her grief and anger behind, but mainly because she was sure she should skip the trip and stay home.

She had stayed up way too late figuring out what to pack and what to wear on the plane. October in Rhode Island made a coat a necessity, but the temps in Fort Lauderdale and on the island would be too warm for more than a light jacket. Would the evenings on the island be cool this time of year because of the ocean breeze? She’d checked the weather app on her phone, but knew temperature wouldn’t tell the complete story that close to the ocean. She settled for layers since she always froze on airplanes when they reached cruising altitude.

Not that she’d done a whole lot of flying. Occasionally, she’d needed to fly to get to galleries where her art was being shown. Beyond that, she’d traveled by car and twice by train.

Once she had sorted out her wardrobe and realized how late it was, she had been terrified she’d sleep through her alarm clock. Not that she usually did, but because of that, she had woken every hour and then had finally gotten up twenty minutes before her alarm had gone off.

Charlotte was ready early, pacing in front of the window while she waited for the driver to arrive at her small, historic home. Less than a year ago, she’d used some of her considerable inheritance from her mother to buy the home she’d fallen in love with the moment she’d seen it. Having Jack as her friend and neighbor across the street was an additional perk.

Allie had offered to drive Charlotte to the airport, but she’d declined. Allie and Jack had done enough by sending her on this trip. There was no need for either of them to drive forty-five minutes from Providence to Newport on a workday, and then drive Charlotte another forty-five minutes back to the Providence airport.

Allie had forwarded the e-ticket to Charlotte, as well as a detailed itinerary for the trip. She’d need to figure out what it had cost them so she could repay them the entire amount. Allie had offered the trip as a gift, but Charlotte planned to foot the bill herself. Allie wasn’t financially stable yet, so Charlotte didn’t want her sister, or Jack, to spend money on her. Between her inheritance from her mother and her successful art career, Charlotte was financially comfortable.

She checked her watch. The car was now ten minutes late. The longer she had to wait for her driver, the more she had second thoughts about the trip. It wasn’t too late to back out.

But if she backed out, she’d have to explain to Allie and Jack why. She racked her brain but couldn’t come up with a viable reason. Telling them she didn’t feel like it wasn’t going to work.

She reviewed her mental list for about the tenth time. Tickets, casual summer clothes that had been packed away for the winter, sunglasses, phone and charger, sunscreen, as well as her e-reader with several novels she hadn’t had time to read. Her carry-on was filled with her art supplies to prevent loss or damage in transit. She was also careful to make sure there was nothing in her carry-on that might be confiscated by airport security.

She was about to call the car company to make sure she hadn’t given them the wrong time when a black town car pulled up to the curb. Charlotte stepped out the front door onto the porch to wave to the driver. Her suitcase and carry-on were already on the porch and she started down the steps with them to the sidewalk.

“Morning, Miss Harrington. I’ll take those.” The driver came around the car. His hat shadowed his face as he took her bags.

“Good morning. I just need to lock my door.” She smiled, slung her purse over her shoulder and locked the front door behind her.

This was going to happen. She nearly missed a step in her excitement, and she grabbed on to the wooden railing to steady herself.

Before she knew it, she was seated in a window seat on the airplane, on her way to Fort Lauderdale where she’d take a ferry to Sapodilla Cay.

For someone pretty cautious, she discovered that since there was no turning back, she was actually excited about this new adventure.

* * *

SAM BRITON STOOD on the private island’s dock next to the gleaming fifty-six-foot yacht named For My Grandkids. The Blaise Enterprises logo was prominently displayed just below it on the stern.

“You sure you’re good until Ben gets back?” John Blaise, Sam’s former father-in-law slash longtime boss, yelled from the top deck of the yacht. “I can stay if you need me.”

“I think we can manage,” Sam replied. “This conference coming in isn’t very large, about a hundred people. Between Ben’s new assistant, Katie, and me, we should be able to handle them.”

Sam’s day had begun with the resignation of his conference manager due to his mother’s illness in Liverpool, England. That was followed by a water leak in room 315 that had seeped into rooms 215 and 115. On top of that, one of the two elevators was down; a part was expected to be shipped overnight. Although, on this island, overnight shipping was hit or miss.

“I like what you told Ben about taking a leave of absence and moving his parents here. I knew you would handle the manager position like a pro.” John grinned, the deep lines in his tanned face defined, and gestured up the boardwalk. “Here come the kids.” Sam’s children, Emma and Oliver, walked side by side, rolling their suitcases and wearing backpacks. John slipped around the corner to hide from them.