Chapter Twenty-Seven
The following morning, after Diablo made Fallon promise to call him before she left the apartment, she sat at the kitchen counter and unwrapped the Alina Post. One of her favorite things to do in the mornings was read the local paper while she sipped on a big mug of coffee laced with hazelnut creamer. As she sipped, her eyes scanned the headline “Skeletal Remains found in Mesa County.” She skimmed the article, then stared at the computerized images under the caption “Do you know this man and woman?” Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the woman’s image.
All of a sudden, the room became hotter and stuffier, and it was like she was going to choke. She went over to the sliding door and opened it, a welcomed rush of air calmed her down. The scent of crisp apples, firewood, and earth wafted around her as she watched the red, yellow, and gold leaves shiver in the wind. After taking in the cool air for several minutes, she went back to the counter and looked at the images in the paper. The computerized rendition of the man and woman haunted her, especially the woman’s. There was something familiar about her, something tugging at the back corners of her mind.
She looked at the next set of pictures, which were the clothing and some items found near the bones. When her eyes landed on a gold locket with a Victorian floral pattern on it, she covered her mouth, gasping. Her skin tingled as a clear image of her mother wearing the locket popped into her mind. “Oh my God,” she cried aloud.
Her mother had bought a locket very similar to the one in the paper at an antique shop in Durango. Fallon remembered it clearly because her dad had been out of town and her mother had decided that they’d have an adventure. For some reason—she really didn’t know why—her mother had sworn her to secrecy. She hadn’t wanted Charlie to know they left Tula. Fallon recalled that it had been a wonderful day and that her mom had fallen in love with the locket. She’d bought it and when they’d returned home, she promptly placed Fallon’s picture in it.
Fallon’s heart lurched as she remembered that day, and she stared at the picture in the paper. She couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but the minute she’d seen it, it’d jogged a lost memory. Clutching her arms to her chest, she rocked back and forth, the monotony of the movement calming her. Then she remembered the pictures she’d taken from her home. The pictures she’d kept hidden for years, too afraid to look at them for fear her father would find out she had them and take them away from her.
She went into her walk-in closet and pulled out a shoebox. Sitting on the floor, she opened the box and stared at the images piled on top of one another before dumping them out on the floor and sifting through them. They were all mixed up: pictures of her mother when she was a teenager, when she was a little girl, when she first had Fallon, older pictures of them as a family. Fallon didn’t know a lot of the people in the pictures, though she guessed some of them must’ve been her grandmother and grandfather. They were in a lot of the pictures of her mother when she was a teenager.
Then she found the pictures of her mother wearing the locket. In many of the photos, she had it on.
She grabbed those photos and went to the kitchen, comparing the locket and her mother to the pictures in the paper. Her pulse pounded as the blood rushed to her head, the room spinning. This woman is Mom. Oh God. Someone killed Mom. The thought was surreal, and in an instant, Fallon’s world had been turned topsy-turvy. She glanced at the man. Is this Rich? She couldn’t really remember what he looked like.
Picking up her phone, she plugged in the phone number listed in the article.
“Detective Contreras.”
“Uh… I’m calling about the article in the Alina Post. The one about the bodies you found.”
“Do you have any information about them?”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I think it’s my mother.” Her voice cracked.
“What’s your mother’s name?”
“Joanna Richardson.”
“How long has your mother been missing?” he asked.
“We thought she ran away with Rich. That was about twelve years ago. I recognized the locket. The article didn’t say if there was a picture in it. My mom had a photo of me in it. Does the locket you found have a picture of a little girl?”
“It does. We didn’t release that information because we wanted to be sure that anyone who called wasn’t just an attention-seeker.”
“So someone killed my mother?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m so sorry. I need to talk with you. When can we meet?”
“Anytime. All this time I thought she left me behind. I should’ve known better. I knew she loved me even though my dad kept telling me she didn’t. How did she die?”
“The results indicate a blow to the head.”
A small whimper escaped through her parted lips. “Why would someone kill my mom? Everyone loved her. She was such a loving, nice person. I don’t understand this.”
“We’ll have to do a positive identification. Do you remember the name of your mother’s dentist?”
“Dr. McClure. He retired a few years ago. I think he’s still in Tula. I can’t believe any of this.”
At the end of the conversation, Fallon had made arrangements to meet with Detective Contreras, give a sample of her DNA, and give a statement. He’d asked a lot of questions about her father.
When she put the phone down, numbness prevented her from doing anything, even thinking. She sat staring out the sliding glass door to the maple trees, the cloudless blue sky, and the mountain’s craggy peaks that already had a white dusting on them. Snapshots of her life with her mother whipped through her mind like a fast-paced slideshow.
In one morning, her reality had changed. What she’d believed for more than a decade had been proven false. The enormity of it was too much to comprehend. When she’d thought her mother had run off, hope had always been there, nudging her that one day her mother would make contact with her. Hope was now dashed forever. Her mother would never contact her. Her mother was dead. It was so final.
She wished she never would’ve opened the paper. Hope was better than knowing the truth.
Her phone rang and she picked it up. “Hello?” Her voice sounded faraway.
“Fallon? What’s happened?” Diablo said.
“I found out my mother is dead,” she said. It felt like she was out of her body, watching herself sitting at the kitchen counter talking with Diablo. None of this feels real.
“Fuck! I’m so sorry, sweet pea. I’m coming over now. This must be hard for you.”
“She was murdered. She never left me. She was taken from me. Why would someone want to do that?”
“You’re not making sense, sweet pea. No matter. I’m on my way.”
She put the phone down and continued staring until Diablo came in. He rushed over to her and hugged her. After a while, she was able to tell him what had happened. She showed him the article in the paper and the photograph she found of her mother with the locket.
Then she broke down and cried. The thought of her mother dying on the cold ground in the middle of nowhere haunted her, and she knew that thought would forever be part of the fabric of her mind. Diablo stroked her hair as she had her meltdown. He didn’t offer platitudes or cheerful sayings—he was just there. And that’s exactly what she needed.
As the blue sky began to turn amethyst and cranberry, Fallon drew away from Diablo and smiled weakly. “Thanks for just being here for me.”
“Of course. You’re my heart, sweet pea. When you’re in pain, I am too.”
“You’re the best. I have this urge to call my dad. I guess I just need to talk to someone who knew her and loved her too.”
He nodded. “I can see that. You should call him. It’ll be good for you.”
She went into her bedroom for privacy and plugged in her dad’s number. When he answered, she almost hung up. “Hi, Dad,” she said meekly.
“It’s about time I heard from you. Why the fuck have you been ignoring me? And why the hell did you move out?”
“Dad, I didn’t call for that.”
“And you moved in with that biker scum. Fuck, Fallon. Didn’t I raise you better? Do you think your mom would’ve wanted you to end up with a low-life biker? I can tell you no fucking way she would’ve wanted that.”
“I didn’t call to argue. I called because I have some real disturbing news to share with you about Mom.”
“What is it?” he asked in a low voice.
“The cops found her body… or at least what’s left of it. She was murdered, Dad. The detective said she died from a blow to the head.”
Total silence. Thinking she’d lost the connection, she glanced at her screen. Her dad was still connected.
“Dad? I know it’s a shock. I’m still reeling from it.”
“Are they sure it’s her?”
“Pretty much, especially since they found the locket with my picture in it near her. I can’t believe someone killed Mom.” Her voice hitched.
“Where was she found?”
“Bison Peak. Remember how Mom used to love to go hiking there?”
“Vaguely.”
“I still can’t believe it.”
“When will the cops be talking to you?” he asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“No reason to tell them about our fights. You know how innocent people get railroaded when they want to solve a case.”
“I was young. I don’t remember a lot.”
“You know I loved your mother very much, don’t you?”
“Yes, Dad. I know you took it real hard when she left.”
“I never wanted the three of us to break up, but she did. You didn’t know a lot about your mother. I shielded it from you because I didn’t want to taint your love for her, but she really was a slut.” His voice was cold and detached.
A shiver ran down her spine. “I don’t think that matters now.”
“Yes, it does. People always paint a dead person as a saint even if he was a bastard in life. It’s human nature to do that, I suppose. I’m not that way. Your mother didn’t care about you. She was planning to leave us… you behind.” He chuckled when she gasped. “You didn’t think I knew she had a lover? I did. Everyone did. It was the talk of the town, and I was made out to be the cuckold husband. You were too young to understand any of it. It’s too bad your mother was killed, but I can’t help but feel that she got exactly what she deserved.”
“I know you’re angry, Dad, but how can you say that?” she whispered.
“In all the years we were together, I never once cheated on your mother. Not because I didn’t have the chance—I had a lot of women hit on me when I was out on the road—but I never strayed. I loved her. And what did she do? She let another man touch and fuck her. What she did was disgusting and wrong. And eventually, the bad always end up punished.”
Fallon had called her father to commiserate and talk about the times they shared with her mom. She hadn’t expected his cold fury, his spite, and his detachment.
“And you need to get your ass home and stop fucking the scum. You’re turning out to be just like your mother.”
“I have to go. I just wanted to tell you about Mom,” she mumbled, then disconnected the call. A few seconds later her father called back, but she let it go to her voice mail. She went back into the living room and curled up next to Diablo on the couch.
“How’d it go with your dad?” he said as he caressed the top of her head.
“Strange.”
“Do you think he’s involved?”
“I didn’t before I called, but…. It was just a strange conversation, that’s all. He said he knew my mom was having an affair. I know she didn’t think he knew.” She rubbed her temples. “It’s just too much to think about right now. I can’t believe my dad would do anything like that. He’s just still angry about my mom having an affair. I guess I can get that. Time sometimes doesn’t heal all wounds.”
“Yeah. Betrayal’s a hard one to forget. I don’t think people ever do. They may say they do, but when trust is broken, it’s almost fuckin’ impossible to mend it back again.”
“It is. I’m sure that’s what’s going on with my dad. Me telling him about my mom opened the old wounds. The anger is still there. I know he wouldn’t have hurt her. He loved her too much.”
She burrowed into him deeper, loving the way his closeness, his scent, and his touch made her feel like she’d finally found her place in the world. She looped her arm around his waist, and as her eyelids drooped with the drone of the television, she welcomed the refuge of sleep.