The Truth About Jane Doe Read online

  “Oh, nothing.” She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand as she walked to the refrigerator and removed a carton of milk. “I just couldn’t sleep. I can’t get used to that empty space beside me.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  Matthew hugged her. “It’s going to take time.”

  “I know.” She pushed out of his arms and poured milk into a pan. “A glass of warm milk, and I’ll be fine.”

  Matthew had his doubts about that. He wished he could soothe her pain and take the sadness from her eyes, but there was nothing he could do and that hurt him the most.

  They sat at the kitchen table, Matthew sipping his coffee and his mother her milk. He glanced around, realizing this big warm kitchen hadn’t changed since he was a kid. White cabinets trimmed in blue, a darker blue counter, stove and a large oak table where all their problems had been solved.

  “Your dad had a beautiful funeral, didn’t he?” his mom asked, breaking through the comfortable silence.

  His father had been buried more than a week ago, and every day she asked him the same thing. Tonight, for some reason, the question triggered thoughts of the young woman in black. He had been meaning to ask about her.

  “Yes, it was a very special funeral. The whole town turned out.” He smiled reassuringly, then said, “Mom, there was a young woman at the funeral. I didn’t recognize her. She was completely dressed in black. Even her hair was black and hung below her waist.”

  Belle took a nervous swallow of her milk. “That has to be the Doe girl.”

  “Doe? You mean the baby who was left on Pete Watson’s doorstep?”

  “Yes.”

  The Doe girl. How could he have forgotten the little girl who’d paralyzed a town? Until she mysteriously appeared on the Watsons’ doorstep, the people in Coberville had been close and friendly. The abandoned baby changed things. People began to look at each other a little differently, and they distanced themselves from the child. She represented a dark side of the community and they didn’t know how to deal with her. So they left her alone.

  Christmas Jane Doe. God, how she’d changed. He remembered a small thin girl with thick black braids and a face that never smiled. The last time he’d seen her she was about six, sitting on a bench, waiting for the bus. The other children were teasing her, calling her names. She held her back rigid and stared straight ahead, never reacting to their words. Much as she had at the funeral, he thought. Some things never change. But C. J. Doe certainly had. The little waif had turned into a beautiful woman.

  “That must have been twenty-five or more years ago.” His mother’s words interrupted his reflections. “You know, I don’t think Pete or Harry was at the funeral. But I guess that’s understandable under the circumstances. It’s so sad the way we all grew apart. So sad.”

  His mother was rambling. She did that a lot these days. He tried to make sense of her words and failed.

  “What circumstances?”

  She glanced up, her face puzzled, as if she’d forgotten he was in the room. “Oh,” she said, and blinked, obviously collecting her composure. “The Townsend case. Your dad was their lawyer.”

  He still wasn’t following her. “Dad did a lot of work for the Townsends.”

  With a nervous hand she set the glass of milk on the table. “I don’t like talking about that girl and the mystery that surrounds her. It’s depressing, and your dad and I never saw eye to eye about her.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You and Dad argued about this girl?” In all the years he’d been growing up, he couldn’t ever remember his parents arguing. They had a unique way of talking things out.

  “We didn’t actually argue. I just felt he knew something about the girl he wasn’t telling me.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head and got to her feet.

  “I think I’ll go to bed now.”

  Matthew kissed her cheek and watched her leave the room, his curiosity running riot. He would’ve sworn his father had never kept anything from his mother. What did he know about the Doe girl that was so confidential he couldn’t talk about it? Matthew ran a hand through his hair. While he was here, he intended to meet Christmas Jane Doe and find out for himself.

  CHAPTER TWO

  COBERVILLE WAS A QUIET community of fewer than five thousand people. A three-story limestone courthouse in the Second Empire style sat in the middle of a town square. Main and Cober streets ran parallel, and just about every business in town was located on one of those two streets, except for larger stores like Wal-Mart and H.E.B., which were located on the outskirts of town. Matt Sloan’s office was across from the courthouse in a nineteenth-century building typical of the business district.

  Matthew stood in the middle of his father’s office, soaking up the atmosphere. Shelves filled with law books lined one wall and filing cabinets were up against another. On the third wall, beside the large window, hung family pictures. Files cluttered the desk and in the single ashtray was a half-smoked cigar. This big cluttered office was the essence of his dad. He remembered visiting here after school, and the way his dad had always smiled and said, “Come on in, son. I could use a second opinion.”

  He had spent many afternoons here, reading, watching his dad labor over the letter of the law. He could almost hear his voice. “Never forget that people are human and never take their opinions or feelings lightly.” Had he lost those finer aspects his father had taught him? He ran his finger along the edge of the large oak desk, hoping he hadn’t.

  Even after his dad had retired as judge, he never forgot about people and their emotions, their needs. People kept calling him, wanting his advice. So he’d come out of retirement and reopened his old office and practiced law part-time.

  Matthew took a deep breath and glanced around at the general chaos of the office. Before he could decide what to do next, the front door opened and Miss Emma, his dad’s secretary of forty years, walked in.

  A short plump woman, Miss Emma Stevens had a mound of dyed red hair curled atop her head. As a boy he used to wonder how it stayed there so neatly. She frowned at him from behind thick glasses with cat’s-eye frames and rhinestones at the corners. They must have been made in the 1950s.

  “You didn’t tell me you were coming in today,” she accused in her irritating high-pitched voice.

  He didn’t like having to explain his actions, but remembering the manners his parents had instilled in him, he replied, “Mom’s visiting with the reverend and I thought I’d get acquainted with Dad’s files.”

  “You should’ve called me.”

  “It’s no big deal, Miss Emma. I only plan to stay for a little while, and I really don’t need any help.”

  “How will you find anything?” She waved an impatient hand. “I have a special filing system, and I don’t like anyone messing it up.”

  He forced himself to take a calming breath and wondered how his father had put up with this woman for so many years. Diplomacy, that was it. His dad knew how to handle people. He hoped he’d inherited some of his father’s tact.

  He looked around at the dust and clutter. “Can you get someone to clean the office?”

  “Clean?” she shrilled, her eyes darting around.

  “What’s wrong with this office?”

  “Everything needs to be cleaned, from the floors to the windows. The place has been closed up for weeks.”

  “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

  Yeah, he thought, she probably had cataracts the size of doorknobs. He smiled his best smile. “Humor me, Miss Emma. Find someone.”

  She hesitated, then his smile won her over. “Okay, I could get Bertha. She cleans the bank.”

  “Fine, get Bertha.” His smile broadened at the small victory.

  She took a step, then turned back, pointing a finger at him. “She’ll cost you. She won’t do it for free.”

  His smile immediately vanished. “I didn’t expect her to,” he answered, a slight edge to his voice.
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  Miss Emma turned on her heel and headed for the door, muttering, “His father never had any complaints. City ways gone to his head. Nonsense, just nonsense.”

  As the last word died away, Matthew grinned and sank into his father’s chair. He marveled at the comfort and the way the contours seemed to fit his body. Maybe he and his dad were more alike than he’d imagined.

  Reaching for a file, he heard the door open again. Now what? Surely Miss Emma wasn’t going to argue some more.

  To his surprise, a tall blond man with a veneer that bespoke money and power entered the room. John Robert William Townsend. Even though Rob, as he was called, was eleven years older than he was, Matthew knew him and his family well. The Cobers, Rob’s mother’s family, had settled Coberville in the 1800s and they stilled owned almost everything in and around the town.

  Matthew got to his feet and shook Rob’s hand.

  “It’s good to have you back in Coberville, Matthew.” Rob’s smile showed off his perfect white teeth and angular features. Rob Townsend was known for his charm and virility, which were apparently lethal to any and all women. At forty-nine the man still hadn’t lost those qualities.

  “Thank you,” Matthew replied.

  “I’m sorry about your dad. He was a good man.”

  “Thank you,” Matthew said again. “Have a seat.”

  Rob hiked up his tailored slacks and sat in one of the leather chairs opposite the desk. Matthew resumed his own seat, wondering what Rob Townsend had on his mind.

  “How long has it been?” Rob mused. “A long time, I’d say, but I remember you as the young hero that led the Coberville Tigers to the state championship. Quite a victory for this town.”

  Matthew smiled at the memory.

  “I wished my parents had let me finish high school in Coberville, instead of sending me to school back East. All that togetherness and bonding sure could’ve helped me in this election.”

  At Matthew’s puzzled look, Rob explained, “I’m running for Dad’s senate seat in the fall.”

  Matt raised one dark eyebrow in amusement. “Are you here to ask for my support?”

  Rob chuckled. “No, not really.” Then his expression grew serious. “I was glad to hear you’re staying in town, taking over your father’s cases.”

  “I promised Dad I would.”

  “I didn’t realize you had a Texas license or practiced anything but criminal law.”

  “I got the Texas license mostly for my dad’s sake,” he said. “I hadn’t planned on practicing here this soon, but I assure you I can handle most cases.”

  “How long do you plan on staying in Coberville?”

  “I’m due for a long vacation. So I plan to stay as long as Mom needs me and until I get all of Dad’s cases closed. At least a month.”

  “That’s good to hear. I presume you’re familiar with the case your dad was handling for the Townsend family?”

  “No,” Matthew said, “can’t say that I am.” He figured this had something to do with the case his mother had mentioned last night. He wished she’d told him more.

  “Then you haven’t got a clue about what’s going on around here.” The statement held an accusing tone, similar to Miss Emma’s earlier. It had the same effect on him. But Rob was a client and deserved his patience.

  “No,” Matthew repeated. He picked up a pencil and, searching for a pad, came across the Townsend file. “Dad must have been working on it because the file’s right here.”

  “Hmm,” Rob murmured. “Sad to say, your dad didn’t give it a lot of attention.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was dragging his heels so long I was thinking of hiring an attorney from Austin.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Dad. He always believed in taking care of business.”

  “My mother had a lot of faith in him, but I guess he just wasn’t feeling up to par.”

  “Maybe,” Matthew admitted reluctantly, knowing his dad would never let a client down. He touched the thick file. “I’ll review this tonight, but generally what’s the case about?”

  Rob crossed his legs and began to talk. “After a lengthy illness my mother passed away about six months ago. Her will was pretty straightforward, leaving everything to her three children. She also stipulated that Aunt Martha could live at Seven Trees until her death with all expenses paid, and she left her a trust fund, as well.”

  “You don’t have a problem with any of that, do you?”

  “No, it was what we expected. Mother was the sole owner of the Cober estate. She bought out Aunt Martha a long time ago. Dad and my mother had been having marital difficulties for years, and they had separate estates. So we all knew the bulk would go to her children, but what we didn’t expect was an outside party being named in the will.”

  “An outside party?”

  “Christmas Jane Doe.”

  Surprise darted along Matthew’s nerves, but he made sure that nothing showed on his face. “The girl who was left on the Watsons’ doorstep?”

  “Yes. Mother left her a hundred thousand dollars and a thousand acres of Cober land.”

  “What?” Matthew’s surprise turned to shock.

  “You heard me right. My mother had to be insane if she thought we’d accept this. As I said, she was ill for a long time and she wasn’t thinking straight. I want this will broken and I want it done as soon as possible.”

  “Was your mother making business decisions up until her death?”

  “Yes, although Dad and I advised her. She would never relinquish her power.”

  “Let me see if I can find the will,” Matthew said. He opened the file and quickly sorted through the contents.

  “Here it is.” He pulled out the legal document and glanced through it briefly. “There’s a personal letter from your mother.”

  “Oh, yes, about how she wants us to accept her decision.”

  “It’s very heartwarming.” Matthew scanned the letter and wondered at Rob’s coldheartedness.

  “Mother thought we took our inheritance for granted, and she wanted to give something to someone who’d appreciate it. It’s all crap. Mother just felt sorry for the girl. We will not accept an outsider inheriting Cober land.”

  “I see,” Matthew replied, continuing to read through the papers. One small detail caught his eye. He glanced at Rob. “Did anyone mention the date on this document?”

  “No, I don’t believe so. I just assumed she’d made it recently.”

  “This document is dated twenty years ago.” Matthew turned the will around so Rob could read the date.

  “What?” he choked out. In one swift movement Rob was on his feet, grabbing the document from Matthew’s hand. “Damn, how could this have slipped by us? By your father? Surely he knew the date and he never said a word! I only saw this letter briefly. It’s been in your father’s custody ever since. How could this have happened?”

  Their eyes locked. Matthew didn’t miss the slur on his dad’s capabilities as a lawyer—and he didn’t like it. But he also knew his dad had been ill. “I have no idea,” Matthew said slowly, “but did anyone check for a recent will?”

  “That was the only will at the bank where she kept all her important papers. I’m sure there isn’t another one.”

  Matthew nodded at the document in Rob’s hand. “That’s going to make it much harder to break.”

  “Dammit, I’m so tired of dealing with this.” Rob tossed the papers on the desk. “We only plan to spend the spring months in Coberville, so I want to get this settled. I need to concentrate on campaigning, instead of this bizarre mess.” He turned away. “Why the hell would Mother do this to me? To her family?”

  Matthew folded his hands across the file. If he was going to represent the Townsends, he had to be completely honest. “I was only a kid when the baby was found, but I still remember the rumors.”

  Rob swung around, his blue eyes dark with resentment. “My father and I have nothing to do with that girl’s existence!”

  Matt
hew stared at Rob. His eyes didn’t waver as they challenged that statement.

  “Okay.” Rob threw up his hands. “I’ve had my share of women and so has my dad. I’m not denying that, but if either of us had gotten some girl pregnant, she would have bled us for every penny. Instead, she leaves the baby five miles from our house. That doesn’t make any sense. Anyway, just look at C. J. Doe with all that black hair and those green eyes. She looks nothing like us, and no one’s going to make me believe that Mother knew anything about her birth. It’s all just rumors. The truth is, some teenager probably got pregnant and, being scared and alone, decided to leave the baby on the Watsons’ doorstep. Everyone knew how desperately Maggie Watson wanted a baby. That makes more sense than those ridiculous rumors about us.”

  Matthew could see the fear in his eyes. Rob wasn’t sure the girl wasn’t a Townsend, but he was never going to admit any doubts. He was a Cober and a Townsend. He didn’t have to.

  Suddenly Rob’s eyes narrowed. “Offer the girl a million dollars.”

  Matthew frowned. “Pardon me?”

  “I’ll pay her a million dollars to keep from dragging this through the courts. I’m sure the greedy little witch will take it.”

  “I strongly advise against this. Let me—”

  Rob cut him short. “I’m not asking for your advice. I’m ordering you to make her an offer. If you have a problem with it, I can find another attorney.”

  Matt’s first impulse was to tell him to do exactly that, but he’d made a promise to his dad and he wouldn’t go back on his word. Besides, there was something going on that made him very curious—his dad’s reluctance to move on the case and the date on the document, among other things. He had to find the answers for his own peace of mind.

  Giving in to Rob’s highhandedness wasn’t in his nature, though. He’d been an attorney, and a successful one, for a long time and he didn’t like being talked to like some hack for hire.

  He got slowly to his feet, his eyes narrowed with a warning his colleagues knew well. “It’s my job to advise you.”

  By the glint in Rob’s eyes, Matthew could see that he was debating whether to tell him to go to hell or to see if the New York lawyer could live up to his reputation. As the blue eyes darted away, Matthew knew the latter impulse had won.