“You got it trimmed, not cut.”
“Forget the hair,” he said. “I don’t even know how we got started on that subject.”
“You brought it up,” she said pointedly.
“Did I tell you I found out who was sending Sara threatening notes?” he said, deliberately steering the conversation in a different direction. “It was a woman she’d been friends with in junior high who turned out to have an ax to grind. But it could have been worse. It could have been some crazy guy out to get her.”
“I have to tell you, I’m glad it was a woman,” Raven said. “Because Sara and I were talking one day and she mentioned she had this enemy, a guy named Gary Burke. I meant to tell you but I kept forgetting. I’d have felt terrible if he’d turned out to be the stalker.”
“Gary Burke?” Crow frowned. “She said he was her enemy?”
“What does it matter?” Raven said, staring at him. “You already found the person who wrote all those notes, right?”
I sent one lousy note.
Crow stilled. That was it. That was what had been nagging at him since he and Chris had talked. She’d only said “note.” Not “notes.”
His heart pounded. If Chris didn’t send the other notes, someone else did.
That meant the stalker was still out there.
And that Sara was still in danger.
Chapter Eighteen
Sara took a long sip of her iced tea, tempted to make another inane comment about the weather. If she’d thought making that call to her mother and setting up this meeting was hard, trying to talk to someone she hadn’t seen in ten years was next to impossible.
They’d agreed to meet at a local restaurant, and on the way there, Sara had found herself wondering if she’d even recognize her mother. Thankfully that hadn’t been a problem.
She glanced across the booth through lowered lashes. Crow was right; the physical similarities between mother and daughter were striking.
“That’s a lovely dress,” her mother said.
She glanced at her mother’s tailored linen. Obviously they’d moved from the weather to clothes.
“I like yours, too,” Sara said. “It’s different than the kind of stuff I remember you wearing when I was a kid.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Sara wished she could have them back. The last thing she’d wanted to do was to start off this meeting being negative.
Surprisingly her mother’s lips quirked.
“Spandex just doesn’t appeal to me anymore.” Her mother’s mouth twisted in a wry grin. “I guess I’ve grown more conservative in my old age.”
“You’re not old,” Sara said automatically.
“Forty-four next month.”
Sara thought for a moment. “The tenth, right?”
“I’m surprised you remember.”
“There’s a lot I remember,” Sara said. “And just as much that I wish I could forget.”
Her mother’s gaze met hers. “And I’m sorry for that. I know that I wasn’t a good mother to you.”
Sara hesitated. How do you disagree with something that’s true?
“I loved you and I certainly wanted to be, but I didn’t know how.” Without warning, her mother stopped and let out a long audible sigh. “No, I swore I’d be honest today. I was too focused on the men in my life to be a good mother.”
Good manners told Sara she should protest, tell her mother that she was being too hard on herself. And to a certain extent that was true. She’d known her mother had loved her, and there had been good times. But on the other hand, if they were being honest, so often her mother hadn’t been there for her.
“What are you thinking, Sara?” her mother said softly. “You can tell me.”
“Why did you leave me?” she blurted out. “You said we were best friends. You never called, or wrote, or anything.”
Tears pushed against the back of Sara’s lids, and even though she’d voiced the question she longed to ask for ten years, it was all she could do not to bolt from the restaurant without waiting for the answer.
“I did it for you.” Her mother reached across the table and took her hand. “And that’s the truth. I thought it would be easier if it was a clean break. When I was younger, my mother ping-ponged in and out of my life so much I didn’t know where I belonged. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” Sara swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.
“I never stopped loving you.” This time it was her mother’s eyes that filled with tears. “How could I?”
“It was my fault Gary beat you up.”
Her mother frowned. “That had nothing to do with you.”
“Mom, don’t lie to me now,” Sara said. “I know Gary found out that I’d been taking money from him and that last forty dollars was the last straw. I can’t begin to say—”
“Forty dollars?” her mother interrupted. “What are you talking about?”
Maybe this was part of her penance, Sara decided, having to admit out loud what kind of person she was.
“I wanted a new dress for that freshman dance more than anything. You said no.” Sara tore the paper napkin that had been on her lap into tiny shreds. “I couldn’t believe you let Gary have the final say. He had plenty of money in his wallet and you had to know he’d just blow it all on gambling and booze anyway.”
Her mother stared as if she was hearing it all for the first time.
Sara swallowed hard and continued, suddenly anxious to get it all off her chest. “That’s when I decided to borrow the money. I figured he’d never miss it and I could pay it back over time from my baby-sitting money.”
A strange expression moved across her mother’s face. “All these years you’ve thought that’s why I got hurt? And that’s why I didn’t come for you?”
Sara nodded, lowering her gaze to the wooden tabletop.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” Her mother reached over and squeezed Sara’s hand. “Sara, look at me.”
Sara lifted her gaze and the wall she’d built around her heart melted at the love in her mother’s eyes.
“What happened that morning had absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“Mom, don’t…”
“Listen to me. It had nothing to do with you.” The words rang with an unexpected sincerity and her mother’s gaze was firm and direct. For the first time Sara wondered if she could have been wrong all these years. Maybe it hadn’t been her fault.
“I don’t know if you were aware of it, but Gary and I hadn’t been getting along for weeks. Every time we went out, he paid attention to every other woman but me. I’d had enough.” Her eyes darkened with the pain of remembering. “When I told him that morning to pack his bags, well, he went crazy.”
“He found out the money was missing, didn’t he?”
“He hadn’t even picked up his wallet from the coffee table.”
“Why was he so upset then?” Sara frowned. “It wasn’t like he couldn’t have gotten his own place.”