Josephine

  With a shudder, I close the journal and turn to Rocco. “Marianna suspected he would eventually kill her, too.”

  “I can’t begin to imagine what was going through her head, but it’s clear she was concerned about her daughter’s safety.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Want to keep reading, or go inside?”

  With a start, I realize we’re already parked in front of a modern building with walls of windows and skylights. I’d been too absorbed by Marianna’s story to pay attention to our location. The neighborhood is clean, flanked by new condos and a walk-in clinic. A large sign with sans serif print and a cartoonish sun boasts the name of the facility.

  “Let’s go inside,” I decide, reaching for the door handle. “I need a break after that passage.”

  When we walk through the facility’s double glass doors and start for the receptionist’s desk, Rocco sets his hand on my lower back with the slightest amount of pressure. I’ve decided it’s his way of comforting me without being too aggressive, which I can appreciate.

  “Welcome to Sunshine Manor,” a 20-something blonde woman greets us from behind the desk with a friendly smile and warm gaze. She wears a high, bouncy ponytail, and her teeth sparkle in the sunlight blasting through the windows all around us. She emits the energy of a puppy. “What can I do for you today?”

  Untying the belt on my coat, I eye her name tag and offer a placid smile. “Hi, Sabrina. My name is Josephine Kelly. We’re here to see Roger Carter. He said he’d arrange to have a visitor’s pass waiting when I arrived.”

  The woman’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh. Are you family?”

  “I’m his granddaughter,” I state without any emotion. At this stage in the game, it feels as if I’m outright lying to her face. The way her smile falls, it’s apparent something is wrong. “Is there a problem?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Ms. Kelly, but⁠—”

  “Josephine?” a deep voice interrupts. “Is that really you?”

  I spin around to face a man approximately 70 years of age with a generous crop of gray hair and wrinkles etched deeply into his deeply tanned face. Around 6 feet tall and maybe 180-190 pounds, he’s in excellent shape. There’s a slight resemblance to the man I’ve always called my dad, except his narrow features and thick mane made him more distinguished. Beneath a wool trench coat, he wears a dress shirt and pressed pants that would lead me to believe he’d attended a Sunday morning church service.

  “I don’t suppose you’d recognize me,” he tells me with a hint of arrogance hardening his jaw. “I’m your uncle Bill.”

  I move away from the desk to accept his extended hand, inwardly cringing with his limp grip. “Uncle Bill,” I repeat, suddenly remembering a much younger version of the man standing in front of me featured in my parents’ mysterious photo album. “It’s good to see you.”

  “My god, it’s been forever since I last laid eyes on you. I don’t know why my brother and Diane were so determined to keep you away from us, but it sure is good to see you again.” His thoughtful gaze swings to Rocco. “And you are…?”

  Rocco gives my uncle’s hand a firm shake. “Rocco Giordano. Family friend.”

  “Pleasure,” Bill says before his eyes return to mine. “I don’t know what finally brought you back to Baltimore, but I’m sorry to say your timing couldn’t be worse.”

  I frown. “Excuse me?”

  With a heavy sigh, my estranged uncle swipes a hand over his tired face. “I’m here because Dad passed away in the night.”

  As I hold the sorrowful gaze of the man who is most likely not my uncle by blood, Rocco’s hand firmly sweeps across my back. How can my “grandfather” be dead when it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I first discovered he was alive? Could it be something more than a mere coincidence that he passed before we had a chance to meet? Why didn’t I drill him with more questions when I had the opportunity?

  “Your dad died last night?” I wheeze through a tight pinch in my chest.

  Bill gives me a somber nod. “The staff here is just as baffled. Dad was in exceptional health for someone his age, never had any issues. They assumed he’d live to be a hundred or more. I just spoke with the director and was assured there will be an investigation.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Rocco offers, probably sensing I’m too bewildered to form a coherent reply.

  Dipping his chin in appreciation, Bill gives me a thoughtful look. I can’t shake the feeling that he’s carefully analyzing my every move. “He was a good man. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to meet him.”

  “I am, too,” I say in all honesty. The elderly man I spoke with on the phone sounded far too friendly and normal to have raised someone as cold and unforgiving as my father. “I was looking forward to getting to know him. I’d hoped he could shine a light on my childhood situation.”

  “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but you’re welcome to come back home with me and ask whatever questions you’d like,” Bill offers, smoothing a hand behind his neck. “My wife said she’d make brunch when I returned. She loves to entertain, and I know she’d be just as excited to see you. We still live just a few blocks down from where you grew up in Federal Hill. I can take you by your place later on if you’d like.”

  I grew up in the same neighborhood as Marianna Haley?

  My heart races as I give Rocco a tentative glance. His dark eyes spark with recognition.

  “That’d be great,” I decide.

  While I doubt seeing the childhood home I don’t remember is going to solve anything, it’s one wayward puzzle piece of my mysterious life that will finally be set into place.

  Carolyn Carter, Bill’s wife, possesses a sunny demeanor and appears to be at least a decade younger than her husband. Either that or she has an excellent plastic surgeon. The way she carries herself with confidence and ease, head held high and steps without hesitation, I suspect she may have competed in a beauty pageant or two. She’s a petite little thing with platinum blond hair. She wears a designer dress with designer heels and a diamond wedding set containing enough carats to blind a person from a mile away. While I believe her outfit confirms they had been in church earlier, I still feel grossly underdressed in a wool button-down top and jeans.

  Although they live in a modest row house, the furniture and abstract paintings are notably high-end. The kitchen appliances and marble countertop sparkle with newness. The aroma of baked goods wafts through the air.

  “It’s so lovely to finally see you again, Josephine!” Carolyn drawls, tugging me close with a limp pat against my back. The overpowering scent of her floral perfume clogs my throat when she draws away. “Just look how beautiful you are!” With a dramatic gasp, she grips onto Rocco’s forearm. “And who’s this handsome stud?”

  “A family friend,” I say, inserting a slight clip of sarcasm on his behalf.

  “Rocco Giordano,” he tells her. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “None of this ma’am nonsense,” she tells him, swatting at his chest. “Please, call me Carolyn.” She retreats into the kitchen nearby and secures a white apron adorned with pink flowers over her dress. “Breakfast is almost ready, y’all. I hope neither of you is vegan or has any food allergies. I’ve prepared my famous loaded Dutch babies.”

  “Sounds wonderful, sweetheart,” Bill praises, bending to plant a kiss on her cheek. “We’ll get the heaters going on the patio and prepare the Bloody Marys.” He points at Rocco. “Ever had one with gin, son?”

  Rocco cocks one brow. “No, but it sounds interesting.”

  “You two go ahead,” I tell them. “I’m going to help Carolyn get everything ready.”

  As soon as they shuffle out the back door, Carolyn begins directing me on where to find the plates, linens, and silverware. She’s robotic enough that I wonder if my presence is making her nervous.

  “How long have you and Uncle Bill been married?” I ask while setting the plates on the countertop.

  “Forty-nine years! We began datin’ when I came up from Alabama to attend the university here. Bill was already livin’ in this same neighborhood—same as your parents.”

  “Did you know them very well?”

  “As a matter of fact, your momma and I were real close. We were always together…I was pregnant with my Cody at the same time she was carryin’ you. The two of you were thick as thieves when you were little.” Forget pageantry; the woman was born to be an actress. She leans into dramatic pauses and fluctuates the pitch of her voice. “Poor little Cody was heartbroken when he learned you were gone.”

  “Where’s Cody these days?”

  Her complexion glows with a wide smile. “He’s a Captain in the Coast Guard, in command of a maritime security cutter. We usually have to wait for him to get in touch with us because he doesn’t always have the best cell phone reception.”

  There goes my chances of reaching out to him to see what he knows about our severely twisted family tree. “What was Diane like back then?”

  “She was a real spitfire, that’s for sure.” After setting the cast iron skillet on the stovetop, she places her manicured fingers on my forearm and draws her lips into an exaggerated pout. “I was so sorry to hear she’d died, darlin’. What a tragic accident! Your uncle and I were all torn up when your daddy refused to give us any details about the funeral. I wish I’d known what we did to make them cut us out of their lives that way. I’m surprised your grandad didn’t die of a broken heart decades ago.”

  “There wasn’t a funeral,” I tell her. “Just a graveside service involving me and my dad.”

  She covers her mouth to stifle a gasp. “Oh dear! That’s no way to lay a loved one to rest!”

  If you only knew the full dynamics of our family, I resist answering. “Did they still get along with all of you before they left?”

  “Everything was just fine and dandy, or so I thought. One day we woke to see a movin’ truck in their driveway. When I went over there to see what on earth was goin’ on, they were already gone.” She lets out an exasperated breath and throws her hands out at her sides. “They just up and left without so much as a goodbye or explanation and left the packin’ to the movin’ company!”

  “You have no idea why they would’ve left so suddenly?”

  “None whatsoever.” The way she suddenly fumbles through a utility drawer without looking at me, I suspect she’s lying. “Would you be a dear and grab the fruit I cut up from the fridge? It’s in a big red Tupperware container. You can’t miss it.”

  I retrieve the bowl from their highly organized refrigerator and watch her expression closely when I ask, “Did you know Marianna Haley?”

  The pie server clutched in her hand drops to the floor. With a slight flinch, she retrieves it and recovers with a wry smile that doesn’t quite erase the minuscule panic in her gaze. “Where’d you hear that name?”

  “My mother mentioned Marianna and her daughter a few times,” I lie. “I understand they went missing.”

  Carolyn begins cutting the contents of the skillet. “You and Cody hung around with little Lizzy quite a bit, actually. She adored the two of you like you were her big sister and brother.”

  “Were you and Diane close with Marianna?”

  “Not exactly. She was a bit of a…strange woman…kept to herself.”

  “What about Elizabeth’s dad?”

  “There were a few men who came around in the time she lived here, but I don’t know if any of them were the daddy.” She turns to face me with her bright blue eyes narrowed. “What’s with all the questions, darlin’?”

  “I don’t remember anything about my childhood before we moved to Iowa. I’m just hoping something about being here will jog my memory.”

  “You were young. It’s pretty common to forget life at that age.” She scoops the baked dish onto a plate, then another before her perky disposition returns. “I’m sure the men are starvin’! Best to get this out to them while it’s still warm!”

  I wait for her to meet my gaze, but she makes herself seem busy to avoid it.

  She knows something substantial that she has no intention of sharing.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  PRESENT DAY

  Josephine

  During brunch, Rocco and I engage in polite conversation with Bill and Carolyn. My uncle inquires about my career, and Carolyn’s complexion visibly pales as I fill them in on my history with law enforcement. She’s exceptionally quiet as Bill explains he’d retired from international banking 3 years prior while she continued to invest her time in worthwhile charities.

  When Bill offers to take us on a tour of the old neighborhood after we’re finished eating, Carolyn insists on staying behind to clean up on her own. As much as I want to call her out for being a coward, I decide it will be a good opportunity to get Bill’s take on Marianna’s disappearance.

  It’s not as breezy this far from the harbor, and the sun has taken some of the morning’s chill out of the air. The neighborhood’s narrow homes, built right up against each other, expand for countless blocks. Unique doorways seem to be the only thing setting them apart from one another. Their varied facades glow with pristine brickwork from a recent facelift. Arched windows and wrought-iron balconies complete the classic architectural design in embellishing details. Flourishing trees line the clean and crack-free sidewalks linking the buildings together. The idyllic neighborhood seems to be the perfect place to raise a family.

  The three of us are a handful of blocks over the hill from Bill and Carolyn’s home when Bill points to a row house with a cherry oak door. “That’s where your father, Eddie, and I grew up.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I comment. “Such a charming and peaceful neighborhood. I can understand why you never left.”

  “Our parents felt it was important that family stick together. They encouraged all of us boys to buy a place nearby—even pitched in on our down payments. Your place was next to Eddie’s two blocks up from here.”

  “Your brother Eddie? Is he still around?”

  “He still owns his place, but we haven’t seen him in years. He was always a bit of a nomad and never married. He likes to travel the country and sleep in the back of his van. Last I heard, he was out in California.”

  “Does he know about your father’s passing?”

  “Carolyn attempted to contact him this morning while I was taking care of things at the nursing home. His voicemail was full.”

  I quietly assess him, attempting to comprehend the dynamics of my father’s family. For having parents who wanted them to remain close by, it seems they couldn’t have drifted any further apart. “Do you have any suspicions as to why my parents left?”

  Bill stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “I suspected this conversation was inevitable as soon as I spotted you standing in the nursing home.” His eyes slide to the building. “I think it’d be more appropriate if you asked your dad.”

  My teeth grind together. “I would,” I bite out, “except he’s in a vegetative state from complications of a dental surgery. The doctors don’t think he’ll be around much longer.”

  Bill’s eyes narrow with contempt. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  “Do you really care?” It’s a struggle to stop bitterness from seeping into my voice. “Besides, my parents were never the conversational type. They preferred to keep me locked up until I was eleven and pretend the five years prior to that never happened.”

  He clutches his chest with one hand. “What?”

  “I have reason to believe they ran away from here because they were hiding a monumental secret that involved me in one way or another. I was treated like a pariah for the majority of my life. If you know anything about their decision to pack up and leave the way they did, I would really appreciate your candor, Uncle Bill. I’ve been forced to live with their dirty little secrets for long enough.”

  He runs a trembling hand through his hair. “Look, Josephine, your dad wasn’t perfect. None of us are.”

  A stiff laugh spills from my lips. “What does that have to do with my parents leaving Baltimore?”

  “I have a pretty clear idea of why they left. It had something to do with his…infidelities.” The word rolls off his tongue like poison.

  “He was unfaithful?” I raise my eyebrows. “More than once?”

  Bill inclines his head. “I’m not exactly sure how many times it happened, but I’m pretty sure at one point he was involved with your next-door neighbor.”

  Anticipation gnaws at my insides. “What was her name?”

  “It was Marianna Haley.” His eyes become heavy with shame. “That woman who went missing.”

  I stumble back a step. My dad had an affair with Marianna, the woman whose name he penned in the journal before burying it in his backyard. It feels like the proverbial “final nail in the coffin” in regards to his involvement.

  Rocco’s hand glides slowly up and down my back as he confronts my uncle. “So you’re saying her dad was sleeping with a woman who went missing around the exact time her parents fled Baltimore. You didn’t find that suspicious?”

  The wrinkles around Bill’s mouth deepen with a frown. “I don’t remember if the timing is right⁠—”

  “Oh, it’s spot-on,” I assure him in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “If you don’t believe me, search her name and you’ll find all the verification you need. She was officially declared missing within days after our move to Iowa.” With impatience unfurling through my chest, I cross my arms. A tinge of guilt hits me when I notice he’s looking a bit green, but I choose to ignore it the same way he ignored the circumstances surrounding my family’s disappearance from their lives. “Do you know if he was the father of Marianna’s child?”

  Sighing, he drags the palm of a shaking hand against his forehead. “I can’t say for sure, but I think your mom suspected that was the case. As Lizzy became older, the two of you started looking alike. Everyone saw it.”

  I lean back against Rocco’s solid frame, needing to gather my wits. Whether I’m Elizabeth or Josephine, I may have a missing half-sister.