The Secret Sin, Page 2

  Annie started to switch the radio channel to her favorite country-and-western station, then thought better of it, afraid to wake up Lindsey. She considered phoning Jason but rationalized he wouldn’t be shy about calling her if he had an emergency. The long, boring drive seemed to take forever until she finally exited the interstate highway and got on the twisting back roads that cut through the mountains to Indigo Springs. The summer-thick leaves on the tall trees hugging both sides of the pavement let through just a sprinkling of the sun’s rays, casting most of the road in shadows. Lindsey stirred, alerting Annie that the girl was awake.

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Annie said. “Base camp is a couple of miles from town, down by the river.”

  Lindsey groaned. Now what did that mean? Lindsey had already stated she wasn’t “the outdoorsy type,” but did she not appreciate nature’s beauty?

  “It’s really quite a pretty setting,” Annie said.

  Lindsey groaned again. Annie might be inexperienced in dealing with teenagers, but she wouldn’t stand for rudeness. She turned to Lindsey, intending to set her straight. The teenager’s head lolled to the side. Her eyes were open but her skin was deathly pale.

  Annie’s irritation instantly vanished. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t feel so good.” The girl’s voice was low and sluggish, and her eyelids fluttered as though she might pass out.

  The pickup was approaching the fork in the road that led either downhill to Indigo River Rafters or uphill to town. Annie’s adrenaline kicked in. She took the turn as fast as she dared and headed uphill.

  A short time later, she drove into the picturesque heart of Indigo Springs, where century-old stone buildings shared space with restaurants, businesses and retail shops catering primarily to tourists. She pulled the pickup to the curb in front of a pediatrician’s office that sported a sign with blue block lettering and set the parking brake.

  “I don’t need to see a doctor.” Lindsey had been repeating the statement since she’d found out their destination. “I already feel better.”

  She looked only slightly improved, her coloring verging on frighteningly pale instead of ghostly white.

  “Humor me.” Annie got out of the truck and slammed the door. She opened the passenger door and helped Lindsey down from the high bench seat, careful the girl didn’t wobble when she navigated the step. She let go of Lindsey’s elbow once they were on level ground, but stayed alert just in case the girl actually fainted.

  “A pediatrician!” Lindsey exclaimed when she saw where Annie was leading her. “Can’t I at least go to a regular doctor?”

  “Pediatricians see children up to age eighteen.”

  “Pediatricians are for babies.” Lindsey pointed half a block up the street to a row house with a stone facade that housed another doctor’s office. “Why can’t we go there?”

  If a serious illness struck Annie on the spot, she’d still avoid Whitmore Family Practice, even if it meant driving to the next town while feverish and delusional.

  It hadn’t always been that way. She’d been a patient of Dr. Whitmore’s until he’d died a few years back, leaving his daughter to run the practice. Although Indigo Springs was no longer a sleepy, small town but a tourist destination, most locals knew by now that Sierra Whitmore had broken her leg in a car accident, then called the most logical person to help her out.

  Her brother Ryan Whitmore.

  “Dr. Whitmore’s office closes early on Friday afternoons,” Annie said, relatively sure that was still the case. “So no more arguing. Let’s go see the pediatrician.”

  Looking too weak to offer up another protest, Lindsey walked with Annie into a cheerful office that featured bright-blue carpeting and wallpaper decorated with clowns and balloons.

  Annie blew out a soft breath, silently congratulating herself for avoiding Ryan Whitmore yet again, something she’d done successfully since she was sixteen years old.

  THE GRANDMOTHERLY receptionist listened patiently as Annie explained why she couldn’t fill out the information and insurance papers that were required of every patient.

  “Just do your best, honey,” the receptionist said, “and I’ll squeeze in Lindsey as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t you need to check with the doctor?” Annie blurted out before she thought better of it. She’d half expected to be directed to the nearest emergency room, but her goal was to get Dr. Goldstein to evaluate Lindsey’s condition, not pass her off to another doctor.

  “Believe me, he’ll see her,” the receptionist said with a good-natured smile.

  Annie nodded and took a seat beside Lindsey, who had her head down, her sleek brown hair falling like a fashionable curtain over her face.

  “How are you holding up?” Annie asked.

  “Okay,” she said tremulously.

  Annie squeezed her thin shoulder and filled out the few blanks she could on the forms. She tried to hand the paperwork to Lindsey, hoping the girl might be caught off guard into providing her phone number. Lindsey shook her head. Figuring now was not the time to hassle her, Annie returned the forms to the reception desk and settled back to wait.

  Noisy twin boys who were probably still in preschool banged around the waiting room, traveling from toy to toy, their attention spans not much longer than a gnat’s. Two seats away, a surprisingly calm woman who looked vaguely familiar leaned over. Her thin legs poked out beneath baggy madras shorts, and she wore her frizzy blond hair in a ponytail.

  “One of my boys has a little cold, but they’re mainly here for a checkup,” she said. “I already told the receptionist your Lindsey could go ahead of us.”

  “Thanks,” Annie said.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” She placed a bony hand on her chest. “I’m Edie Clark now, but my maiden name is Cristello. We went to high school together.”

  Now that the other woman had identified herself, Annie wondered how she could have failed to recognize her. Edie had been one of the popular girls who whispered and giggled whenever Annie passed them in the hall.

  “We just moved from Virginia after the school year ended. That’s where my husband’s from. I convinced him Indigo Springs was a great place to raise a family.” Edie looked pointedly at Annie. “Do you have kids?”

  The door to the inner office opened. A fortyish nurse with a kind face appeared, clipboard in hand, calling out, “Lindsey Thompson.”

  “Go ahead, Lindsey.” Annie nodded to the girl, who got unsteadily to her feet and moved gingerly through the office.

  The nurse stood back, letting Lindsey precede her through the inner door, but didn’t immediately follow. Her gaze zeroed in on Annie. “Wouldn’t you like to come with her?”

  Annie couldn’t imagine her presence would help put Lindsey at ease. The opposite might be true. “Won’t you be there when the doctor examines her?”

  “Well, yes,” the nurse said.

  “Then I’ll wait here.”

  “Very well.” The nurse’s slow acceptance of her decision made Annie wonder if she’d made the wrong choice. “I’ll come get you when the doctor’s done. You’ll want to hear what he has to say.”

  Edie gazed at her curiously as the nurse took her leave, no doubt wondering why she hadn’t gone with Lindsey. Annie remembered that Edie and her high-school friends had been nicknamed the Gossip Girls long before the TV show became popular.

  “Lindsey and I aren’t related.” Annie decided it would be better to tell Edie the truth than have her spread rumors. “She’s a friend of the family.”

  “I thought she might be a stepdaughter, but I was pretty sure you weren’t married,” Edie said. “Didn’t I hear something about you taking over your father’s rafting business?”

  “Not true,” Annie said, although the misconception was a common one. Some people in town already had her as the new owner. “I’m still a magazine writer. My boss let me take the summer off so I can run the business for my father while he’s out of the country.”
/>   “He’s in Poland, right?” Edie asked.

  “Right,” Annie said.

  One of the twin boys barreled over to Edie, stopped dead in front of her and pointed to his face. Edie dug a tissue out of her purse and wordlessly swiped at the little boy’s runny nose.

  Annie picked up a magazine on fly fishing and flipped it open. Edie’s son rejoined his brother, plopping down on the floor in front of a fort they were constructing from plastic building blocks.

  Edie ignored the hint that Annie wasn’t up for any more conversation. “You do know Ryan Whitmore’s back in town, right?”

  Annie hid a grimace, afraid that Edie and her friends had guessed how Annie felt about him in high school. Why else would Edie bring him up? She composed herself and looked up from the magazine. “Why do you ask?”

  Bonnie Raitt started to sing suddenly, her powerful voice cutting off whatever response Edie had been about to give. Annie fished her cell phone from the deep pocket of her shorts, muted the ring tone and checked the display. Her father’s number displayed on the small screen.

  “Excuse me.” She stood up, grateful for an excuse to get away from Edie. She headed for the exit and privacy, waiting until she was outside on the sidewalk to press the receive button. The door of a gift shop next door was slowly swinging shut behind a customer, and she caught the sweet smell of scented candles.

  “Hello, Dad.” She headed up the hill from the pediatrician’s office, away from a group of window-shopping tourists. As the hour neared five o’clock, the traffic on the street had thickened, the number of cars seemingly out of place on the too narrow quaint street. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “I didn’t have my phone with me.” Her father’s voice was scratchy and hard to make out, but it was still wonderful to hear from him. After her mother deserted them when Annie was four years old, they’d grown exceptionally close. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not really.” She got straight to the point. “I called to ask you about Lindsey Thompson.”

  Interference in the connection combined with the incidental street noise made it difficult to tell whether her father had responded.

  “Dad?” Annie prompted. “Are you still there?”

  “What about Lindsey Thompson?” His voice sounded odd, but that could have been due to the poor reception.

  “She phoned from the train station to say she’d come to visit you. She said she knows you through Joe Nowak.”

  There was a long pause before he said, “That’s true.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me Helene Nowak had a daughter?” Annie asked. “I’m positive you didn’t mention it when she died.”

  “I didn’t.” The strange vibe remained in his voice. “Where is Lindsey now?”

  “Here in Indigo Springs. With me. There were no trains back to Pittsburgh today so now I’m wondering what to do with a fifteen-year-old.”

  “Lindsey told you she was fifteen?”

  “Isn’t she?”

  “She’s thirteen,” her father said.

  Thirteen.

  The unlucky number flashed in Annie’s mind like a neon warning sign. And just like that, she knew.

  Her muscles clenched and her stomach muscles tightened against the blow that was coming. It was the only way the events of the past few hours made sense.

  “Who is Lindsey Thompson, Dad?” she prompted, her voice already trembling.

  “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

  She suppressed an urge to toss the cell phone into the street, where the tires of a passing car would smash it. She took a deep breath and smelled exhaust fumes. She forced her vocal chords into action. “Want me to find out what?”

  “She’s your daughter.”

  Annie sank onto the nearest stoop. The traffic continued to pass by while across the street a bell jingled as customers went in and out of an ice-cream shop, the scene the same as it had been moments before.

  But for Annie, everything had changed with three world-shattering words.

  “There you are.” Edie Clark appeared as though she’d materialized out of thin air. “I told the receptionist I’d come out and get you.”

  “Annie?” Her father’s voice came over the phone, urgent and worried. “Are you okay?”

  She wasn’t okay. She’d just discovered the father she’d trusted had let friends adopt her baby, expressly going against her wishes that he arrange a closed adoption. And one of the biggest gossips in Indigo Springs was regarding her with open curiosity. “I can’t talk now, Dad. I’ll call you back later.”

  Annie disconnected the call and summoned the will to stand up, determined to appear normal.

  “Sorry to interrupt your call,” Edie said brightly, “but Ryan’s waiting.”

  She must have misspoken. Annie had gone to the pediatrician specifically to avoid dealing with Ryan Whitmore. “You mean the pediatrician is waiting?”

  “Oh, no. That’s why I asked you about Ryan earlier. His office closes early on Fridays.” Edie indicated the placard on the door behind Annie, and she realized they were in front of Whitmore Family Practice. The office hours that were listed confirmed the office was indeed closed. “Dr. Goldstein had a family emergency, so Ryan’s taking his patients this afternoon.”

  Somehow Annie managed to nod, although her entire body felt numb. She concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other as she followed Edie to the pediatrician’s office, bracing herself for the ordeal to come.

  But how could she possibly prepare to talk to Ryan Whitmore when the girl they’d conceived when they were both only sixteen had inexplicably resurfaced?

  CHAPTER TWO

  RYAN WHITMORE leaned one shoulder against the bright-blue wall outside the examination room, making a notation on young Lindsey Thompson’s chart.

  A pint-sized girl with a mop of dark curls stuck her head around a door frame down the hall from where he stood. She was about four years old. He waved. She giggled, her head disappearing back into the room.

  As soon as he talked in private to whomever had brought in Lindsey, it would be the little girl’s turn.

  The nurse who’d been assisting him came back, walking down the hall with another woman trailing her. Ryan blinked once, then twice, but his eyes weren’t wrong.

  It didn’t matter that the nurse partially obscured his view and a baseball-style cap covered the second woman’s hair. He would have recognized her from a hundred feet away, which was about as close as he’d come to her since they were teenagers.

  “Dr. Whitmore, this is the woman who brought in Lindsey,” the nurse said when they reached him. “Annie—?”

  “Sublinski,” he finished, keeping his eyes trained on Annie, who had yet to meet his gaze. “We went to high school together.”

  “Then you don’t need me,” the nurse said cheerfully. She excused herself as though the chance meeting was nothing out of the ordinary.

  She couldn’t know he and Annie Sublinski had last spoken more than thirteen years ago on the telephone about giving up the baby she was carrying.

  The nurse couldn’t possibly be aware of all the things Ryan had never said to Annie, or the guilt that never quite went away no matter how much he tried to live in the moment.

  He shook off the memories and focused on the present.

  “This is a surprise,” he said.

  She raised her eyes. The color was an unremarkable mixture of brown and green. He was at a loss as to why he’d always found them so fascinating.

  She’d been appealing as a teen but was even more so now that she was nearly thirty. Her bare arms and legs were toned and tanned, and she had a natural, clear-skinned look that could put a cosmetic company out of business—if not for her port-wine stain. He wondered why she’d never had it removed.

  “For me, too.” Her eyes were guarded, as though she’d noticed him assessing her birthmark. He hoped she hadn’t. “A surprise, I mean. I didn’t know you were filling in for Dr. Goldstein.”
/>
  She clearly wouldn’t have brought Lindsey to the pediatrician’s office if she had. A few years back, while he was visiting family over Christmas, he’d spotted Annie coming out of Abe’s General Store. The downtown had been decorated with wreaths and festive lights, the perfect setting for an apology. Annie had spotted him coming and promptly crossed the street, rushing through the snowflakes drifting from the sky before disappearing into her pickup.

  “About Lindsey.” She held herself stiffly, like a cornered animal ready to take flight. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”

  Now obviously was not the time to bring up the past.

  “We can talk in there.” He nodded toward his colleague’s office. She hesitated, then complied, not looking at him as she passed. He followed her into the room, closing the door with a soft thud.

  She winced at the noise, edged backward and crossed her arms over her chest. Her weight shifted from foot to foot.

  Pretending her body language didn’t bother him, he hoisted himself up on the edge of the desk that dominated the room. “There’s nothing wrong with Lindsey a glass of orange juice and a sandwich won’t cure.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He tapped the girl’s file against his palm. “Her blood sugar was low. The last time she ate was this morning, and all she had was yogurt.”

  “That’s all that was wrong with her?”

  “Like a lot of teenage girls, she has some skewed ideas about how much she should weigh,” he said. “We gave her some juice and a granola bar one of the nurses had left over from lunch, but she could use a good meal.”

  “I should have asked if she’d eaten.” Annie seemed to be talking to herself as much as him. “At the train station, I should have asked her.”

  “The train station?” he repeated.

  She nodded. “In Paoli. I picked her up an hour or so ago.”

  “Who is she?”

  Her eyes shifted, which they’d been doing a lot. “A friend of the family.”