There was silence on the line.
“Oh, come on, John Richard.” I coughed dramatically, which wasn’t too difficult considering I’d been hacking since being pulled out of the fire. “I almost died, remember?”
“Okay,” he said, dragging out the word. “But don’t breathe a word of this to Caleb. You know how he gets about personal favors on company time.”
“Don’t you worry none about him,” I said. Caleb was all bark and no bite. “Can you look up the birth certificate for Avery Bryan? She might have been born Avery Morgan or Avery Dodd. She’s twenty-seven and possibly the daughter of Twilabeth and Haywood.”
“It’s going to take me a minute. Can I call you back?” he asked.
“Yep. Thank you.” I hung up and found Dylan and Delia staring at me. “What?”
“His daughter?” Dylan said.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” I stuck out my thumb for example number one. “It explains why Haywood was so protective when your mama tore into her.” I added my pointy finger. “It explains why she was grieving after his death.” Another finger. “Why she had an invitation to the party—Haywood invited her.” Another finger. “It’s why his ghost was watching over her at the Silly Goose.” I thought of the way Hyacinth had treated Avery at the Goose and shared it with the two of them. “Hyacinth must know she’s Haywood’s daughter, and isn’t too happy about it.”
Suddenly, I was very cranky with Haywood for lying to me when I asked him about Avery yesterday. He’d known her, all right.
“If it’s true that Avery is his child,” Delia said, “why didn’t he tell anyone that he had a daughter? Haywood has lived in this town all his life, and I never heard a word about a daughter.”
“I never heard anything, either,” Dylan added.
The phone rang, and I quickly answered it.
John Richard Baldwin said, “Avery Lee Morgan, born May of ’eighty-eight to Twilabeth Morgan. No daddy listed. And I’ll do you one better on account of you coughing up a lung. At age twenty-four, Avery Morgan married Dale Bryan and divorced him last year.”
That explained her differing name perfectly. “Thank you, John Richard. I owe you big-time.”
“You know what I want,” he said solemnly.
What he wanted was a date with Hitching Post’s newest resident, Gabi Greenleigh, who was currently living in the apartment above my mama’s chapel. Gabi was still nursing a broken heart after a particularly nasty breakup, however, and I wasn’t pushing her into dating. Not yet. “Keep dreaming.”
“So much for owing me,” he grumped and hung up.
“Twilabeth is Avery’s mama, but there’s no daddy listed on the birth certificate,” I shared with Delia and Dylan. “By my math, she’d have to have been conceived near the end of her parents’ short-lived marriage. September or October.”
Delia closed the laptop. “You think it’s possible Haywood didn’t know about her?”
Before I could answer, Dylan chimed in. “You think it’s possible that’s what he was being blackmailed about? You just told us how Avery said she’d been dragged into this situation when Haywood got a letter.”
I said, “I don’t know what to think, but if she is his daughter, we’ve got a bigger issue.”
Looking drawn and tired, Dylan dropped his head back on the sofa. “What’s that?”
“Avery would now be the rightful heir of the Ezekiel mansion. And if someone killed Haywood over that fact, then she could be in danger, too.”
Chapter Fifteen
An hour later, Dylan went to work and Delia left Boo with me while she went off to the Pig to pick up some chili fixin’s for supper. After being constantly surrounded by people for the past couple of days, the sudden silence seemed unnatural.
Boo followed me as I went into the kitchen for another cup of tea, his tiny toenails clacking on the wooden floor. I was dismayed at how slowly I moved.
As much as I didn’t want to worry anyone, I had to admit—at least to myself—that I wasn’t well. My chest ached, breathing proper was a bit of a struggle, and I couldn’t shake a rib-rattling cough.
I didn’t like it.
Not the symptoms so much as feeling weak.
Which was why when my daddy walked through the back door, I had never been happier to see the man in all my life.
He gave me a big bear hug, and I didn’t mind at all when he held on just a little bit longer than usual. When he finally let go, he said, “I brought your bike back, but the cupcakes you left at the shop didn’t make the trip.”
“Why not?” I asked.
He grinned like a mischievous little boy. “Ainsley and I ate them for breakfast. They’re damn fine with a hot cup of coffee. Don’t tell your mama. She’d get all fired up that I didn’t save one for her.”
“I won’t tell,” I promised.