The Undertaker's Daughter (Ilka #1)(43)

“I think she needs to talk. Your father probably spent more time talking to people than anything. It’s important for relatives to be able to talk about those they’ve lost. And you are like your father; you’re good at that.” Ilka wasn’t one hundred percent sure the nun meant that last remark.

“Of course,” she said. On the way into the house she glanced down at herself; her blouse and dark blue jeans would have to do. After all, they hadn’t scheduled a meeting.

In the arrangement room, Mike’s mother sat at the table with an open photo album beside her coffee cup. Ilka noticed the picture of her son, smiling broadly at the camera. “I just came from the police station. They say they’ll find out who did it. But who does these kinds of things?”

She was hurting badly. Ilka walked over and gave her a hug before sitting down across from her and pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“How could anyone hate him so much? And after so many years?” Shelby looked imploringly at Ilka, then shook her head. They sat for a moment in silence; then she twined her fingers together in her lap and fidgeted; it looked like she was working up the nerve to say something.

“I didn’t tell the police everything. I didn’t know if it could harm my son. But after what happened last night, I think I might have to.”

Ilka scooted forward and laid her hands on the table. “What do you mean?”

Shelby squirmed in her chair. When she finally spoke, she stared at Ilka, her eyes radiating pain and something else Ilka couldn’t put her finger on.

“My son was paid to leave town. I didn’t know about it back then. I thought he left because he was ashamed. Everyone thought that. But someone gave him money. A lot of money. So he could start a new life. He told me that the last time I talked to him. He’d changed his name to Mike Miller.”

She hid her face in her hands and breathed deeply to calm herself down. Ilka reached over the table, but Shelby didn’t take her hand.

“I hate this town,” she whispered, spitting each word out. “I regret every single day that I went out on the evening I met my kids’ father. We were both going to Wisconsin Parkside. I hadn’t noticed him before, but all of a sudden, he was standing there, and, well…”

A few moments later she explained she came from Chicago, where her parents and sister still lived. “But Tommy was from Racine, and when I got pregnant we bought the house here and had two kids. Emma was a year and a half when he took off. He ended up somewhere in Ohio.”

She breathed deeply again. “When Mike left, I thought for a while he’d moved in with his dad. But when I finally got hold of Tommy’s phone number and called, he said he hadn’t heard from Mike. And Mike wasn’t welcome, either, after what he’d done. It was in all the papers.”

“But you stayed here after he left you?”

Shelby nodded. “I had the house. And where could I move to? Back home with my parents?” Her lips quivered, partly from bitterness. Ilka shook her head.

“And I couldn’t move when Mike disappeared, either; he wouldn’t know where to find us. I feel like I’ve been tied to this place.”

They sat for a moment in silence. “Who paid your son to disappear?” Ilka asked. “Did he say?”

Mike’s mother shook her head. “I don’t know. But I’ve always been sure he didn’t kill her. He was so happy. No matter what I thought about Ashley Simpson, she made my son happy. Besides his afternoon job at the shop, Mike worked three evenings a week, at this Italian restaurant down by the harbor that closed several years ago. When he came home the evening it happened, he was in a good mood; he acted completely normal. He might even have been in a better mood than usual. They’d given him permission to bring Ashley along to the restaurant’s Thanksgiving dinner, and already he was talking about what he was going to wear, even though it wasn’t for another week and a half.”

She shook her head. “The next day he went to school, just like always. But he was home in less than an hour, down in the living room. White as a sheet. He couldn’t tell me what happened. I’d just had a shower, and I was on my way out the door; I had to go to work. Back then I was working full-time sorting mail. I still work there.”

By now the coffee was cold, and Ilka offered her another cup, but she declined.

“He broke down, completely. He insisted on going to the police, telling them he and Ashley had been together the day before. I tried to talk him out of it—what good would it do? But he wouldn’t listen. He said someone pushed her, because she hadn’t been out on the ice. She was up in the fisherman’s cabin, where they’d been together. It wasn’t any accident.”

Shelby shook her head again, as if the rest of the story wasn’t important. But she continued. “It was like the whole town decided it was him, even though everyone knew there were others besides Mike, then and before.”

After waiting several moments, Ilka said, “What others?”

“Like they say, she got around.” Shelby spoke quietly, as if she wasn’t sure she should let Ilka in on the town’s gossip back then. “There were stories about the men Ashley attracted. And it wasn’t just teenagers. They say she went after older men, and men with money. And yet she wanted my Mike. I didn’t understand what she was up to, but maybe she really did like him.”