“Hi,” she said to him, her stomach doing a flip at the sight of their grave expressions. “Is something wrong?”
“I called him,” Simon admitted. “Kate, he really needs to hear this. From you.”
Kate settled onto the sofa next to Nick while Simon retrieved a cup from the sideboard and poured.
“Jess didn’t kill Addie,” Kate said to Nick. “I saw it all last night in my dream. Nick, I saw her murder. I was there. It wasn’t her husband, even though he was convicted of the crime.”
And then she told him the whole story, everything she saw, and experienced, in her dream. After hearing it, he whistled, long and low. “That’s quite a tale.”
Kate bristled at this. “Do you believe me?”
“Every word,” he said. “I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. But I believe you, Kate. I think you’re right about how that murder went down. It certainly explains one of the myriad of puzzling things about this case.”
“That the baby’s DNA doesn’t match the mother’s?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Exactly. We’ve been wondering about it from very early on. And we knew the baby didn’t die from drowning, so that only added to the mystery.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she wanted to know.
“It’s called police work,” he grinned. “We don’t tell people everything.”
“I guess I can see that,” Kate chuckled. “But I’d sure like to know whether my DNA and Addie’s show a relationship.”
“Are you saying you want me to run your DNA against hers?”
“I would really like to know, once and for all.”
The results of the DNA test were conclusive. Addie was indeed related to Kate and Simon. The baby was not. Now there was no doubt that the events Kate had dreamed about for the past several weeks were real.
Armed with this information and her stack of newspaper articles about the trial, she and Nick sat down with Johnny Stratton for what she knew would be a rather strange conversation. He had agreed to Nick’s request to run the DNA test for Kate without an explanation as to why she had requested it—on the condition that they tell him everything once the results were in.
“In all my years on the force . . . ,” he murmured, shaking his head as he paged through Kate’s articles. He looked up from the newsprint and held her gaze for a few moments as if he were trying to see through her eyes and into whatever place had brought this hidden secret from the past to light. “It does seem to add up. These photos do indeed look like our lady, and there’s no doubting those DNA results. It’s just . . .” He sighed. “I have no idea what I’m going to write in my report to close this case.”
Kate gathered up the articles that were strewn across the tabletop. “I know the feeling.”
“Told your father any of this?” Johnny asked.
Kate thought of the conversation she would soon have with her dad. “I’m on my way there now. Finding out that Grandma Hadley—his mother—was actually the child of someone else and a stolen child at that? I’m not sure how he’s going to take it. Simon hasn’t told his dad, either. We toyed with the idea of just keeping this to ourselves. Letting sleeping dogs lie, as it were.”
“Those sleeping dogs have a way of waking up and biting you when you least expect it,” Johnny said, patting Kate’s hand. “Honey, you’re doing the right thing. The truth needs to come out, no matter how painful or confusing that truth might be. Otherwise, what was the point of it all? You’ve been through quite a lot so this lady’s story could be told. Now all that’s left for you to do is tell it to those who need to hear it.”
Kate stood up and held the file of articles to her chest as Johnny enveloped her in a bear hug. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “There’s never a dull moment in police work.”
She and Nick exchanged a quick glance, and she was out the door.
A week later, Kate and Simon, along with Kate’s parents, Simon’s parents, and Jonathan stood with Nick Stone and Johnny Stratton on the deck of a Coast Guard cutter, more than a mile offshore in the greatest of lakes. Kate hugged an urn close to her chest.
“Does anyone want to say a few words?” Johnny asked.
Simon nudged Kate. “He’s talking to you, if there was any doubt,” he whispered.
Kate cleared her throat.
“I’m not quite sure what to say,” she began. “But I know Addie better than anyone here. In my dreams, I saw an incredible love story between Addie and her husband, Jess, I saw my great-grandfather in his heyday, I saw insanity, and, finally, I saw a murder. I was with Addie during the last moments of her life. I learned that her beloved husband was the victim of justice gone wrong. I learned that everything we thought about our heritage was wrong. I learned that she and her husband live on, through our family.”
Her father slung his arm across his brother’s shoulders and squeezed, as her mother dabbed at her eyes.
“Thank you, Addie, for coming to me in my dreams,” Kate went on. “Thank you for putting right the wrong that was done to your husband all those years ago and letting me get to know him like you did. And thank you for letting us know that we’re your family. We will never forget you.”
And with that, Kate sprinkled the ashes over the side of the boat. They floated for a moment before a small whirlpool appeared on the lake’s glassy surface and swirled the ashes down toward points unknown.
“Rest well, Addie,” Simon called out. “We heard you. Please know that your photograph will hang in our house, where your daughter grew up. She knew nothing about you, but her children do. And so do we.”
Kate’s father, Fred, and her uncle Harry both fought back tears.
Simon wrapped his arm around Kate’s waist. “You did good, kiddo,” he said, and they gazed out over the lake’s calm surface, which reflected the clouds hanging in the late autumn sky.
He squinted into the distance where a dark figure poked its head out of the water and slapped its tail against the surface, creating enormous ripples that extended in concentric circles all the way to the boat. “What’s that?” he asked.
“It couldn’t be a beaver, way out here,” Kate mused. “Otter?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Winter came. Kate stayed on in Wharton, helping Simon and Jonathan publicize the inn. Her divorce came through, uncontested by Kevin, who had already moved on to another job in a new town. And, no doubt, another woman. He and Kate met at Harrison’s House to sign the papers, against Simon’s advice. But she was strong enough to do it, over the initial pain, and secure in the knowledge that it was, indeed, best to go their separate ways. Not only because of Nick, to whom she was getting closer and closer, but also because Kate and Kevin’s relationship was not right for either of them.
Kevin finally admitted to the affair and confessed that, perhaps, married life just wasn’t for him. He had been itching for something new soon after they had walked down the aisle, and Valerie had not been the first.
In the end, they parted—if not as friends, then as friendly as possible. Kate’s heart was still bruised by their failed love story and by his actions, but she knew, down deep, that it was simply his way. That’s who Kevin was—a man who loved the thrill of a new relationship but got bored with maintaining one. She couldn’t ask him to be someone he wasn’t, nor could she be surprised when his true nature came out.