S is for Silence (Kinsey Millhone 19)

“Did you get to hold her?”

“For a while. The nurse advised against it, but I knew it was the only time I’d ever get to spend with her. I was fourteen years old and my father wouldn’t consider my doing anything else. I should have stayed with my mom. Despite her problems, she was a good egg and would have found a way to make it work.”

“You have no idea where the baby is?”

“Probably in Colorado. A few years ago, I wrote her a letter and left it with the agency so if she ever wants to reach me, she’ll have my name and address.”

“Ty never knew?”

“I’d have told him, I think, if I’d ever heard from him.”

“I talked to him.”

“I know. He called me right afterward and said you’d given him my name and number.”

“Only your married name. He looked up your phone number on his own, which I think should count in his favor. He said he wrote to you. Did he tell you that as well?”

She nodded. “His mom probably intercepted his mail. Or maybe the letters reached my mom and she never sent them on.”

“Or maybe she sent them to your father’s house and he decided not to let you know.”

“That would fit. What a shit-heel he was. I’ve scarcely spoken to him since. I’m sure he thought he was doing what was best. God save us from the people who want to do what’s best for us.”

“What happens now?”

“I guess we’ll wait and see. Ty said he’d call again and we’d find a way to get together. Wouldn’t that be strange after all these years?”

“Will you tell him about his daughter?”

“Depends on how it goes. In the meantime, are the two of us square?”

“Totally.”

She flicked a look at the clock. “Your appointment’s at nine?”

“It is. I’ll hang out at Daisy’s until I have to hit the road.”

“Why don’t you stick around? Kathy should be here any minute. You could wait and say hello.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not all that fond of her, but thanks anyway.”

Liza laughed. “What about Winston?”

“Him, I like.”

“Well, he’s apparently on the warpath and she’s furious. That’s what she’s coming over to discuss.”

“Wow. I’m surprised. I’d love to hear about that.”

As though on cue, the doorbell rang and then Kathy opened the door and banged in with a bottle of white wine in hand. She tossed her purse on a chair, saying, “That guy is such an asshole!”

She was wearing heels and hose, a T-shirt, and a floral cotton skirt that was slightly too short for the shape of her legs. She stopped when she saw me. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you had company. I can come back later if you’re tied up.”

“No, no. Not a problem. Kinsey’s met Winston, but I’m sure her lips are sealed.”

I raised my right hand, as though being sworn in.

Kathy was in motion again, coming into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter. “Well, shit. I don’t care who knows about the prick. It serves him right.” She went about the business of opening the wine-cutting the foil, auguring out the cork. She crossed to one of the kitchen cabinets and removed three wineglasses, which she lined up on the counter. I declined, so she filled the other two and handed one to Liza.

It was odd to see the contrast between the two blondes. Liza’s features were delicate-straight nose; fine, flaxen hair; and a wide mouth. She was slender, with small hands and long, narrow fingers. Kathy’s hair was thick, with a slightly frizzy wave that probably got worse when the humidity went up. She was built along sterner lines, with the look of someone who has managed to lose weight but will surely gain it back.

Liza said, “So what’s he gone and done?”

“He hired a divorce attorney. That guy, what’s-his-butt, Miller, the one whose brother got killed.”

Liza wrinkled her nose. “Colin Miller? Kathy, that’s bad news. He’s horrible when it comes to women. I don’t know how he gets away with it. He must have an in with the judges because his clients do great and all the ex-wives end up screwed. Joanie Kinsman wasn’t awarded enough support to cover the mortgage. She was forced to live in her car until Bart came along.”

“Perfect. That’s just what I need. I don’t know what got into him. He must have been burning up the phone lines because the jerk got me served. Can you believe it? I get home from my tennis lesson and there’s a process server on my doorstep, shoving all this shit in my face. I felt like a criminal. And get this. He’s refusing to leave. Last week I talked him into finding his own apartment and everything was set. Now he won’t budge. He says he’s paying for the house and he intends to live there and if that doesn’t suit me, I can move out myself. Where does he get off? You know what else he said? He says if I give him any guff, he’ll default on the loan, quit his job, and take off.”