She shrugs with a resigned smile. “I left them. My parents. I sent the occasional letter and received the occasional letter in reply. Until now, that was the extent of my relationship with my mother. When my father died, I should have come home. I knew my mother blamed me—I blamed me—but I’d only left a few months earlier and the wounds were still deep. So deep. I couldn’t bear to come back. I blamed everybody for what happened to Win.”
“Did you ever check the internet to see if … maybe…”
“Win survived?” She finishes the sentence for me. “Of course I have. Many, many times. I think it would have been impossible, though. I think he might have been dead even before they tied him to the truck. I honestly hope he was, so he didn’t feel any more pain.”
I couldn’t bear to picture it any longer. “So you went to California,” I said. “As far from Round Hill as you could get.”
She nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “San Francisco. Earned my pharmacology degree, finally. But I quickly got involved doing community organization, which will always be my passion. My whole life was shaped by that summer with SCOPE.”
“I think you mentioned that Buddy visited you out there. Did your mother?”
“Never, though you’re right: Buddy came every couple of years. He understood why I couldn’t come back.”
“And you never married?”
She shook her head. “Never really had another serious relationship. I was married to my work. I took up yoga, which gave me some balance in my life … until Buddy got so sick and I knew I had to come back here. It woke everything up for me again. A lot of my anger got directed at your father in my mind because I had no place else to put it. When I met you and realized you were his daughter…” She let out a breath. “Well, you’re not him,” she said, then smiled. “I’ve tried to separate you from him in my mind.”
“You mentioned ‘Byron’ a few times,” I said. “He was the sheriff?”
“Byron Parks. Yes, and my father’s best friend. I called him Uncle Byron all my life.”
“Wait here,” I said. I crossed the room and went upstairs to Jackson’s office, where I dug through his files until I found the folder on the purchase of our house. I carried it downstairs.
“This is weird,” I said, sitting down again. “The Realtor who handled the building sites out here emailed my husband to say there was another potential buyer for this lot.” I leafed through the papers until I found the email printout I was looking for. I read it out loud. “‘Just wanted to let you know that you have some competition for that lot, Jackson, so you might want to act quickly. It’s the best and biggest in Shadow Ridge. Your competitor is an old-timer who’s lived in Round Hill all his life, a guy named Byron Parks. He’s working on getting a mortgage, but between you and me, I don’t think he stands a chance.’”
“What?” Ellie leans forward, reaching for the paper.
“I remember Jackson telling me about it,” I said, handing the sheet of paper to her. “But Byron Parks died before he could go through with it.”
Ellie scans the email. “This makes no sense. He would have been … I don’t know, at least ninety years old. What would he have wanted with this plot of land? This is bizarre.”
I shake my head. “Ever since I moved into this house, my whole life’s been bizarre,” I say. Then I smile at her. “You know what, Ellie?” I ask.
She looks up from the email. “What?” Her blue eyes are expectant.
“I’m going to have someone take that tree house down this week,” I say.
She returns my smile. Her face is finally relaxed. Her skin almost seems to glow. “A fine idea,” she says, then adds, “Ask them to burn the wood to cinders.”
Chapter 48
I’m pleased when one of my appointments cancels the following morning, giving me a whole hour to dig around online for Winston Madison. I want him to be alive. I want to give Ellie that peace. After hearing about his horrific treatment, I could use that peace for myself. But I can’t find him. I can’t find a single person with that name. I even check the death records but it’s as though Win Madison never existed.
After I leave Bader and Duke, I go to my father’s to pick up Rainie. When I get out of my car, I can already hear giggling and squealing from the backyard. I walk around the corner of the house to find Daddy pushing her on the swing.