Time Thieves Page 7

  She’d always be just a visitor here.

  And a reluctant one at that.

  Hours later, one of the reasons for her reluctance was in full force.

  “I’ve changed my mind. It’s my right,” her mother pouted. Her lips literally curled and her voice became childlike. Sari stared, and in spite of her mother’s words, humor crinkled her insides. The older her mother got, the more obstinate and manipulative she became.

  A part of her hated it. Another part recognized it for what it was – an attempt to bind her to her mother. Her father’s possessions were one more thing she could hold over Sari’s head.

  And she loved to play mind games like that. Sari hated them. And with every passing year, she hated it a little more.

  “It’s not yours anymore. You gave them to me. Therefore you can’t change your mind. I will take the items home with me. If you continue to try to stop me, you can bet it will be a long time before I return.” Sari kept her voice even and flat, letting her voice show how she really felt over her mother’s tricks.

  “But I didn’t hand them over. So you can’t take them.” Coolly, her mother walked over to the side table and refilled her wine glass then walked out onto the patio. Cool evening air wafted across Sari’s face as she joined her.

  “I’m sorry you feel that you have to do things like this in order to keep control over me. It’s not going to work. My father’s items are not yours, and I will not allow you to play games with them. You know how important they are to me.”

  “And I know that you won’t ever visit unless I have something to give you.”

  Considering she’d only been gone from France for six weeks, that was hardly fair. But it was so typical of her drama queen mother. “I would have come to visit, but it would be on my time, not by you jerking the family strings just because you can.”

  Lisbeth sniffed. “I didn’t do that.”

  Sari laughed. “Yes, you did. You always do. You’re very generous, but you like to keep dragging me back. I need to be home and get my house in order. It won’t be long, a couple of months, but with my business trips already taking me away, I can’t afford the time.”

  This time, it was Lisbeth’s turn to laugh and it was much colder. In an icy voice, she said, “What you mean is that it’s almost the anniversary of your father’s disappearance, and you want his things to once again try to figure out what happened.”

  Sari’s gaze sharpened. She studied her mother’s face before turning away abruptly. She walked to the edge of the patio and stared out into the blackness of the evening, the lights of the neighbors the only illumination in the sky. After a long moment she tried to explain, knowing her mother had yet to listen. “I have to. I need to know what happened.”

  “Nothing happened,” her mother cried. “Your father walked out the door one day and never came home.”

  Sari spun on her heels. “Really? After all this time, you’re still trying to stuff that garbage down my throat?” She glared in disbelief. “You might want to rewrite history to suit you, but I was there, remember? I saw him pick up the watch and disappear like a puff of smoke in front of me. I saw it. And for all your lies you’ve tried to feed me in the years since, I’ve not forgotten it.”

  Her mother tried to stuff her fist in her mouth as she looked at Sari with wounded eyes.

  Sari closed hers briefly. “Mom, I can’t forget. I loved him. And I miss him so much.”

  “He’s gone. Can’t you accept that?”

  “No.” Sari stared into her mother’s eyes, willing her to understand. “I can’t. I have to explain what I saw, and I want to know where my father is.”

  “He’s gone. That’s all there is to know.”

  Sari clenched her jaw. As she stared into her mother’s face, she realized it was fear that hid in the back of her eyes. Whatever had happened, she was afraid of something happening again. She was most likely afraid for Sari herself. “Are you afraid that whatever happened to Dad might also happen to me?”

  Her mother’s gaze widened in shock. She swallowed hard. “You’re playing with something you don’t understand. You can’t know what forces are coming into play. If he disappeared, what will keep you safe?”

  “Oh, Mom.” Sari understood her mother’s fear. “Isn’t it better to find out now so I can finally put the past to rest?”

  “Not if I lose you too.”

  She wanted to be able to reassure her mother that all would be well, but how could she when she’d been living with the one inexplicable fact – it hadn’t gone so well for her father. “Do you know anything about all the goods stored in the attic?”

  Her mother’s headshake was too fast to be believable. Sari studied her face, only her mother refused to meet her gaze.

  “You do know something. What?”

  At her mother’s continued silence, Sari started to get angry. “You know something and you won’t tell me. Really? Knowing that I’ve spent my entire life looking for him? Even now that I am of age, you’re still holding out on me?” Her anger built. “What do you know?” she snapped. “Tell me.”

  Lisbeth lifted her head higher. “I don’t know anything for sure. Just some stories your father shared years ago.”

  “Tell me, please.” Sari tried to tamp down her impatience.

  “I can’t remember,” Lisbeth whined. She lifted her wine glass and took a long sip.

  “Mom, please.”

  Lisbeth looked at Sari. “Oh, all right. But I don’t know that I recall everything.”

  “I’ll take what you can.”

  With an abrupt move, Lisbeth turned and walked back inside the well-lit room, her heels clicking on the Italian marble tiles. “In that case, I need another glass of wine.”

  Sari hid her smile. Her mother wasn’t looking for fortification as much as she was looking for an excuse to come up with a way out. She knew her too well. However, if Sari had made some headway with her here, she didn’t want to lose it.

  She followed her mother inside.

  With her back to Sari, Lisbeth took a drink of wine. “I only know that some people in your father’s line have disappeared…died, you might say, under suspicious circumstances over the years.”

  “Really?” Why had she waited until now to mention this? Sari waited impatiently. When nothing more was forthcoming, she prodded slightly. “And? What else?”

  Her mother turned slightly and lifted her shoulders. “Nothing, really. They never had any answers. And if you were to check his family line against any other family line, you’d find his is completely normal. Every family has some oddities in their history.” She raised a cool eyebrow then sat down on the leather couch, crossing her legs in a sophisticated movement.

  The grace, the regal tone to her actions caught Sari’s attention. She frowned. “Mom, I’ve always wanted to ask you something.” She took the seat across from her mother. She probably shouldn’t ask this, but the sight of her mother’s cool richness brought back the puzzle she’d wondered about in her mind a lot over the last few years.

  “What’s that?” Lisbeth raised her wine glass again.

  “Why did you marry Father?”

  The wine glass stopped in mid-air. Lisbeth eyes cooled to an iciness Sari hadn’t seen directed at her much in life. She stared back blandly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but look at you. Wine and pearls, marble and leather, expensive and classy.”

  The ice in her mother’s gaze eased. Sari continued. “Father was rumpled cotton t-shirts and jeans. A cup of tea or a cold beer. He loved that old house and you…you hated it.”

  Lisbeth smiled, a chill to her patrician features. “Yes, I did.”

  “So why Father? He wasn’t your type at all.” Should she ask the question that she’d always wanted to ask but hadn’t dared? “Were you pregnant? Is that why you married him?”

  Silence.

  Her mother refused to meet her gaze. Sari was afraid that meant yes.

  “Mother?” Sari narrowed her gaze. “W
hat was he – a quick dip into the ocean of lower class peons for you or something?”

  Lisbeth’s nostrils pinched at her words. “It’s none of your business.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Maybe I’m adopted.” She’d often wondered if Lisbeth was even her birth mother but hadn’t been able to come up with a scenario that explained her keeping Sari with her if she wasn’t. They looked nothing alike. Inside, they couldn’t be more opposite. In her bad times, she’d hoped she’d been adopted. In her good times, she’d still wondered.

  “How dare you say that to me?” Lisbeth glared at her. “I am your birth mother. You know that. If you are going to insult me, then I will say good night.”

  “And I’ll head to the airport. I need to get home soon anyway.” Sari stood up and walked to the front door where her coat and bags were standing. “I’ll take Father’s belongings now too, please.”

  The two women stood in an icy standoff.

  Finally, Lisbeth’s shoulders eased back and her voice when she spoke had a conciliatory tone. “Stay overnight, please.”

  Sari stared at her, knowing that to back down without having established her position was a mistake. “If – and only if – you hand over all of Father’s belongings right now.”

  Relief washed over her mother’s face. But she couldn’t give in quite so easily. “Fine. Then follow me.” Her nose in the air, she led the way to her bedroom. Sari followed curiously. She’d not been welcome into her mother’s lair very often.

  She didn’t know when it would happen again. She gazed around the opulent bedroom with red velvet walls and chocolate with gold embroidered bedding. The floor was a lush cream carpet to help the impression along.

  To Sari it was her mother all over again, and for Sari it was way too much. She loved clean wood lines and light. Sunshine. She’d put a skylight in here and open up the darkness to the bright light of day.

  Her mother walked over to the large picture hanging on the wall and flipped it back and away. A small safe could be seen. Sari raised an eyebrow in surprise. She hadn’t known about that.

  Within a few minutes, her mother had the door open and was reaching into the depths. She pulled out a dark cloth bag and several books. Lisbeth peered inside, and satisfied she had what she’d come for, she closed and locked the safe behind her. Flipping the picture back to hide the safe, she shifted the items in her arms. After a moment, she turned and walked over to Sari. She stared down at the items for a long moment then held them out for Sari. “Take them. I don’t want them any longer anyway.”

  An odd look on her face, Lisbeth stared at the books now clutched tight against Sari’s chest. She said, “I never wanted them.”

  “Did you hate him so much then?” Sari couldn’t help asking. She hated the thought that her father might have not been well loved. He’d been such a wonderful man, and it hurt to think he’d been unhappy. At least from her mother. Sari had loved him; maybe that had been enough.

  “No, I didn’t hate him.” She gazed at some past issue over Sari’s head. “But I wasn’t very happily married to him.”

  “Were you happy when he disappeared?”

  Lisbeth’s gaze narrowed once again, a muscle ticking away to a steady beat in her jaw. “Happy? No. I was left with a huge mess. There were bills to pay, police wandering around asking questions, and I had no answers.”

  Ouch. Sari winced. For all her mother’s areas of skills, handling questions wasn’t one of them. She didn’t remember much of her mother’s behavior in the days immediately following her father’s disappearance. She’d been in shock, so busy trying to find her father she’d not been paying attention to her mother’s difficulties.

  Her own thoughts turning back in time, Sari frowned. In fact, she’d not been very easy to get along with at all. Screaming and crying out for her Poppy. Her mother hadn’t had answers or been capable of handling their now-turbulent relationship that had never been close, but up until then, with Poppy to keep the balance, had always been loving. Just not adoring.

  “I’m sorry. As a child, I’d been focused only on my father,” she began, intending to say more, when her mother’s harsh laugh interrupted her.

  “What’s your excuse now?” Lisbeth sneered. “You’re still only focused on your father’s disappearance.”

  A hard truth. Sari swallowed. “I know that, but I’m not obsessed with it.” At her mother’s disbelieving snort, she cried out, “I’m not, but I can’t let it go. If he disappeared, then maybe he can return.”

  Shocked silence filled the room, widening the distance between them.

  Her mother’s sorrow-filled gaze locked on her. “No, honey, don’t ever think that. He can’t come back. It’s not possible.”

  “Why? How do you know that? He wouldn’t be so old now. He’s only been gone fifteen years. Maybe he’s in another part of the world or something. Someplace he can return from.” Even Sari could hear the little child in her voice, hoping against all hope that the impossible could happen.

  “Is this what you have been working toward, focusing on, waiting for? Sari, you have to accept the truth…he’s gone. If he could have come back, he would have.”

  It was an undeniably logical answer, but one that Sari couldn’t accept. “He might not have been able to. Did you ever try to find him? To help him?” She couldn’t believe they were finally having this conversation she’d been pushing for after so many years. She’d needed to ask these questions for so long, and her mother had always clammed up over the subject. Not today. She pushed forward. “The police, did they have any idea? Is he listed as a missing person? Is his file still open?”

  “I don’t know.” Lisbeth tugged at the sleeves of her dress, straightening the already-perfect material. “I didn’t know what to tell them. What could I say? That he’d vanished into a puff of smoke? If it hadn’t been for Brodin, I’d likely have been locked up in a psych ward or arrested for his murder.”

  “But he did disappear into a puff of smoke – more or less. He snatched up the watch before I could and a weird look came over his face and he just faded away in front of me.”

  “Do you understand how crazy you sound?” Lisbeth stared at Sari, fearful concern in her eyes. “You know what the police are going to say if you tell them that story – right?”

  “I know. But the way you told it, everyone would have assumed you two had a fight, so he’s run off somewhere else to get away.”

  “Some people did believe that. When a family member disappears like your father did, you certainly find out who your friends are. Everyone would point at me, whisper behind my back.” She gave a delicate shudder. “It was horrible.”

  And for her mother who held pride up as a shield, it would have been. No wonder they’d left within weeks. “If we hadn’t left so fast, I might not have felt like I needed to go back.”

  “I doubt it.” As if suddenly weary of the conversation, Lisbeth walked over to the sideboard and set her wine glass down. “I had no choice but to leave fast. I couldn’t sleep for fear of the police showing up at my door to arrest me. I was the last one to have seen him alive.”

  She shuddered. “I hated your father for a long time. Hated that he’d left me alone to deal with the mess.” Bitterness deepened the lines of her face. “You were a child. You were never a suspect. You had no idea what I went through all those years ago. But that didn’t stop you from judging me and hating me.” She spun around to stare at Sari. “You were everything to your father and he was everything to you. Do you know what that was like for me? I was a third wheel. You were my daughter but only wanted to spend time with him.”

  Her harsh gaze suddenly switched to an ageless weariness. “And nothing has changed. You’re still focused only on him. You never could spare me a few moments of your time. Look at you. You wanted to go to boarding school to get away, live in residence at university to stay away, and as soon as you could, you moved back to his house.” She closed her eyes. “And you’re only here now be
cause you wanted your father’s possessions. It wasn’t to see me. It wasn’t because you cared to spend time with your mother – no, it was once again due to your father. Even dead, he steals all you have to give.”

  Sari didn’t know what to say as the tirade rolled free. How long had her mother been holding that mess in? Forever. She sagged into the closest chair. Had it really been that bad for her mother? If she listened to her words right now, then maybe. It couldn’t have been easy being the one left behind. No answers to give people, no answers to give her daughter. She hadn’t been a manager before her father’s disappearance, so after he’d gone, she’d been forced to cope. No wonder she’d run back home…it would have felt safe.

  “Why did we leave so quickly?”

  Her mother shook her head, a broken laugh escaping. “It wasn’t quick, Sari. You just don’t remember. We stayed almost two months. Two whole months where I wanted to escape every day. Two months of hell. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I figured if he could have returned, he would have, and when he didn’t, he was gone forever. I woke up one morning and realized it was over. He was gone and I was going to have to carry on – alone. You were impossible. The neighbors were falsely solicitous and the police – well, they were just plain suspicious.”

  “I’m sorry.” And she was. It was the first time she’d really understood how difficult it had been for her mother so long ago. Sari had missed a lot of it. “Honestly, I am. I hadn’t considered the difficulties from your viewpoint.”

  “I know. You’ve always been very narrow-minded on the subject of your father. You refused to forget him, and I’d do anything to do so.”

  “And that brings back the question of why you married him. I know he and I were close and you were out of the loop somewhat, but I find it hard to believe that you were happy before I was born.”

  Her mother’s face pinched tighter again. She stared at Sari, then off in the distance. “I wanted to live in France. Your father refused.”

  “Surely you knew his home wasn’t here. He had the house, the business…”

  “The business was nothing. We barely made a living.” Her lips thinned. “It was no living at all.”