CHAPTER 1
Late afternoon Douglas Dodd drove slowly into the tree studded town, recognizing it well, a town that appeared to be sited amid a town park, which was what the town fathers at the time had intended.
It was beautiful and peaceful and Douglas, who had not an ounce a goodwill around his heart, frowned. He had come here to do harm to Ida Goldsmith. Thirty years ago she'd accused Douglas of making her pregnant. Her father and two brothers had beaten him savagely and ran him out of town, ignoring his protests he'd never touched Ida carnally, though to be honest he knew the thought had never been far from his mind although she was almost ten years older.
He pulled into a pleasant looking motel and booked in. A woman half his age said, "Welcome to my establishment."
He noted she'd said 'my', not ours.
"We are full apart from the honeymoon suite."
Douglas yawned and rubbed tired eyes. "That would be fine. I take it you are itching to share it with me?"
She looked at him with tired eyes. "I buried my husband not two months ago tomorrow."
"Christ, I'm sorry. That was intended as a flippant remark."
She pushed the register across for signing in. "I'm sure it was and please excuse me for failing to lift to enjoy a jest but I feel ready to come out of this."
"Sure and I'm sorry."
"You may have the suite at ordinary suite rate."
"Thank you. I've driven 590 miles today so won't appreciate the quality of my surroundings till morning. I'll stay five nights but shift me to an ordinary room whenever you wish."
"Thank you. Sleep well traveler."
Douglas was walking out when she called, "Mr Dodd, would you like me to bring up soup and coffee?"
"Yeah, that would be great Mrs ah....?"
"I'm intending to revert to my maiden name, tomorrow perhaps. Call me Irma Goldsmith."
"Okay Irma, great old fashion name," Douglas said, too tired to react to the name Goldsmith. Besides he was aware other families of Goldsmiths existed, including in this town.
Douglas heard the light knock and called come in. Irma used her passkey.
He sat up in bed thinking despite the t-shirt she'd be impressed how well his upper body in such good shape for a guy of his age.
Irma said something surprising, not quite what he'd expected.
"How old are you?"
"Forty-nine."
"Are you the Douglas Dodd my late father thought was my father?"
"What a strange thing to put to me," Douglas said, mind reeling.
"Do you know my mother, Ida Goldsmith?"
Douglas proceeded carefully. "May I start the soup while it's still warm?"
"Oh of course." Irma handed across the tray and sat on the bed without asking, her green eyes watching him intently.
"Yes I knew an Ida Goldsmith. She was my baby sitter and we formed an attachment until I left town when I has nineteen. But that was thirty years ago and Ida would have married. He looked more closely at the pretty brunette. Christ, she'd be no older than thirty. Oh god, he thought. Irma was Ida's daughter.
Through the mind-fog he heard Irma say, "My mother never married. She was unmarried without a boyfriend when she became pregnant. Thereafter no one would marry her. You know what it's like, small towns talk.
When I was five Athol Stokes confessed to my grandfather he was the father and my grandfather shook my mother until she confessed. Then something terrible happened. My grandfather went inside and came out with a rifle and shot Athol Stokes. A guy who'd driven Athol to our ranch drove off and called the Sheriff. Deputies arrived and granddad began shooting at them and they shot and killed him."
"Oh I'm sorry. What a tragedy. If only your mom and Athol had owned up instead of allowing the blame for the pregnancy to fall on me. Your mother knew who the father was but allowed her father and uncle to beat me mercilessly.
She stood and watched.
The men then gave me one hour to leave town or the alternative was to stay and fight for my life."
"So it's true that you weren't my father?"
"Absolutely. It may interest you to know you I never had sex with her."
"Well I believe you, absolutely. So she helped to ruin your life in this town."
"Yes."
"And you've arrived back to kill her?"
"Wouldn't I have arrived back years ago to do that if that had been on my mind?"
Irma yawned and scratched under an armpit. "I have no idea how the minds of aggrieved people work."
"Here take the tray and come back a lay beside me on the blankets and pull the top cover over you and nap in my arms. You look exhausted."
"Well the night manager has taken over. I suppose I could do that but it seems a little strange. Have you returned to kill me?"
"Good god no. However could you think that?"
"It's not illogical."
"Perhaps to a mad man but I'm not mad, still a little bitter, yes, but not deranged. My divorce became absolute last week. My wife said she still loved me but could no longer bear to live with me and says my moodiness depresses our two children. She'd found someone else so we divorced, I being the initiator because I really couldn't blame her."