Secrets in a Still Life

by Kari Ganske

  "There's some sort of incestuous connection in the lineage of the Poledarks and Vandenburgs," Linc suggested. I made an "ew" face.

  "Mike's father had an affair with Missy's mother, and Jodie is their love child," Colleen suggested, eyes wide.

  "What if Mike had an affair with Missy's mother, and Jodie is their love child," I said, taking the idea one step further. "That's even more salacious."

  Linc nodded. "Ms. Poledark was a looker back in the day, even with the drinking."

  "Ew, Linc," Colleen and I said together. He shrugged, unapologetic.

  "Having an affair with his wife's mother would be a motive for murder, for sure." I leaned back in my seat. "Although more so for Missy, not the other way around. If I found out my husband had an affair with my mother, I'd freak out and probably kill the scoundrel too." I looked at my friends' shocked faces and added, "Hypothetically, of course."

  "Could they have gotten in a fight that went too far? Maybe the whole thing was an accident," Colleen said. "Scissors do seem like a crime of passion. If you're going to premeditate something, why not bring a knife or a gun?"

  "True. Okay, picture this: Missy and Mike fought over the results. Mike lashed out in self-defense grabbing the only thing nearby—scissors." I could see it play out in my mind as clear as day.

  "One small problem," Linc interjected into my mind movie. "Why was she in the woods? If they fought there, someone must have brought the scissors. You don't just find scissors laying around by the reservoir. Beer cans and chip bags, sure. But scissors? Not likely."

  I felt myself deflate a little. We were still missing something. My buzz from earlier diminished to a dull ping in the back of my brain. Still there but much less intense.

  Colleen must have felt the same since she said, "Maybe it is just juicy gossip and nothing to do with the murder."

  "Could be," I confirmed. But I couldn't quite let it go. "But it is really coincidental. This report is recent." I pointed at the date at the top. "We're missing something."

  Linc munched on the almost forgotten basket of fries, his eyes unfocused as he thought. We looked at him with anticipation. It wasn't like him not to offer an opinion.

  Finally, he said, "Nope. I got nothing. I'm still on Team Kelly did it to take over the salon. Everything fits—the scissors, the timing, the renovations. Maybe this DNA report is just a—what do they call it? Pickled herring?"

  "Red herring," Colleen and I said at the same time.

  Linc nodded. "That's it!"

  I sighed and finished my milkshake. "You're probably right. Keep your ear to the ground tomorrow at work about Kelly's interview last night. Charm your way into getting Joy to talk about it."

  Linc gave me a sideways look, but a smile pulled at his lips. "Won't you be there too? You are falling way behind on your community service requirements."

  I rolled my eyes, a habit that had gotten much worse since returning to Piney Ridge. "I don't really want to be anywhere near that place right now."

  "Understandable. Maybe you can meet me by the sign, and we can get started on repairs."

  Now it was my turn to smirk. "So not only would I be paying for the repairs, but I would also be helping to repair it? Something doesn't sit quite right there."

  Linc shrugged, the hint of a smile turning into a real one. "I'll bet the carpenter would knock a few bucks off of the labor quote."

  I threw a fry at him.

  Chapter 32

  Later that evening, I tossed and turned in my bed. My mind was racing, trying to connect the dots between Missy, Mike, and Jodie. It really was too much of a coincidence for the DNA results to come back almost the same day as Missy's murder. Someone—presumably Mike—was so upset about them, he or she ripped the report to shreds. No one ripped paper that much unless they wanted to erase what was on it.

  The reservoir threw me off. If this had happened in the Vandenburg home or at Mike's office or at the salon, I could make my theory fit.

  The salon! I sat bolt upright in bed. Of course. Missy had been at the salon that day. She could have easily picked up some scissors there. What if it wasn't Mike who came prepared with a weapon, but Missy? That fit with the "Missy was the angry one" scenario.

  Or maybe she happened to have them in her pocket. I thought about all the times I found lens caps and cleaning wipes and SD cards in my pockets. People put work stuff in pockets all the time and forgot about them.

  My scenario from earlier could make sense if Missy were the one to have brought the scissors. The couple fights over the affair, it gets out of hand. Maybe Missy remembers the scissors and pulls them to threaten Mike. He overpowers her, takes the scissors, and stabs her. Or they struggle for the scissors and Missy accidentally gets stabbed.

  Mike obviously wouldn't want the scandal to get out. If he or his father were the culprit of the affair, the scandal would rock Piney Ridge and possibly affect their business. That would devastate the Vandenburgs, who thrived on their image and their current, lavish lifestyle.

  A terrible thought occurred to me then. Would he also want to silence Jodie? Obviously she knew about the results; did she also figure out Mike's involvement in Missy's murder? If he were willing to kill to keep the secret of the DNA, he would absolutely kill again to cover up another murder. The stakes were so much higher.

  I checked the time—not too late. I flew out of bed and threw on some clothes. Jodie would probably still be awake or even entertaining guests at the memorial. I had to try to warn her, to convince her to go to the police.

  I cursed my stupid car for still being in the shop and contemplated calling Linc or Colleen to get a ride. Jodie's wide, bloodshot eyes and pale, tear-stained cheeks filled my head. There wasn't time. Tensions and emotions ran high tonight with the memorial. Mike, if he were anything like me, would be wound tight after putting on a false face all through the memorial. I couldn't risk the time it would take to have someone drive here to pick me up.

  I grabbed the stupid bike and pedaled faster and harder than my poor body was used to. My legs were a gelatinous mess by the time I got to the Vandenburgs' house. Why couldn't they have lived somewhere called the Plateau instead of the Hill? Luckily, the house was still ablaze, and cars still lined the street. Free booze meant a long party whatever the occasion.

  I leaned my bike against a tree across the street and made my way up the driveway to the back of the house. The eat-in kitchen had sliding glass doors that took up almost one whole wall. If I could catch Jodie in there alone, I could possibly motion for her to come outside. Not the best plan, but the only one I had at the moment.

  Plan B would be to reenter the house, on the guise that I left something there, and try to pull Jodie aside. But I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

  I hid behind some of the landscaping with an eye on the windows, poised to jump out and signal to Jodie should the chance arise. I'd been crouched there long enough for one foot to get those prickly, almost asleep tingles when my cell phone's shrill tone echoed in the silent dark, surprising me enough to make me fall backward into the mulch. I fumbled it out of my pocket all the while shushing it, as if that would help. I managed to silence it as I saw Jodie enter the kitchen—alone.

  Quickly, I shoved the phone into my back pocket and lunged out of the bushes toward the house. I waved my arms like a crazy person, but with the light on inside and the pitch black outside, Jodie couldn't see me.

  I took a deep breath, ventured onto the porch, and knocked on the window. Jodie jumped about a mile, her pale face getting even more translucent. I guess I wasn't the only anxious one.

  I tried the sliding door. It was unlocked.

  "Jodie," I whispered. "It's me, Alex Lightwood. I have to speak with you in private. It's urgent."

  Jodie, of course, looked wary. "Aren't you the one accused of murdering Missy?"

  I stood up to my full height, which wasn't much and was the point. I gestured to myself. "Do I look like I can murder anyone? It wasn't me. But I
think I know who did it. Please, meet me outside so I can talk to you. Just for a moment."

  Jodie looked behind her toward the great room. Then she looked back at me and nodded her head slightly. I let out a breath. I left the door open but moved back into the shadows away from the house to wait for her.

  Jodie emerged from the house a moment later. When she got close to me, she said, "Follow me. It's more private by the pool house."

  I followed her. She was right; no light from the house reached this part of the yard. The only light came from the moon that hung heavy in the night sky. We were completely secluded from the windows of the house. A tall fence surrounding the pool area cut us off from any prying neighbors too.

  "What do you want, Alex? It's been an emotional day already." Jodie stood between me and the house with hands on hips.

  There was no good way to say what I knew, so I just blurted it out. "I know about the DNA test results. That you are related to both Missy and Mike."

  I saw surprise flash across Jodie's face followed closely by anger. Then it settled into the unemotional visage of a bored twentysomething again. She shrugged a shoulder.

  "I think those results were what got Missy killed," I explained. "I'm worried that you might be next. If someone is trying to keep those results quiet, you are another person that knows about them."

  "Thanks for your concern," Jodie said. "But it really isn't any of your business."

  I felt my hackles go up. Here I was trying to help this girl, and I was getting the brush-off. "It kind of is my business since I'm accused of the murder. If you suspect Mike too, then you should say something. Not just for me, but for your own safety."

  Jodie almost laughed. "You think Mike killed Missy?"

  "Well, yes. It's the logical answer, right? He doesn't want any affair between his family and your mother to come out."

  "My mother," Jodie scoffed. "My mother."

  Her voice was full of so much sharp derision, it could have cut my hair as easily as the scissors used to kill Missy. Instinctively, I took a step back, although I couldn't really explain why.

  "You want to talk about my mother," Jodie said, practically spitting the words.

  I remained quiet. This conversation had derailed from what I expected. The tone was all wrong, and that feeling like I was missing something came back tenfold.

  Jodie continued, "My mother is a lying, selfish piss goblin. She lied to me my entire life. She got what she deserved."

  "Wait. What happened to your mother?" I asked.

  "You didn't figure it out from the DNA results you somehow pilfered from us? Mike didn't have an affair with Laura. Neither did his decrepit old man. No, besides his indiscretions of late, he has always been under my mother's thumb," Jodie said.

  Like the last piece of a puzzle, it all clicked into place. Missy wasn't studying abroad or at fat camp during sophomore year; the Poledarks sent her away to have a baby. Her loveless marriage, full of secrets and cheating, was no doubt forced upon them by their parents to keep up appearances if the truth ever came out. Her disregard for Mike wasn't the reason his picture wasn't in the locket. Missy had pictures of her children—all of her children—in there.

  "Your mother"—I took a breath as realization dawned—"is Missy."

  Jodie started a slow clap, and I noticed something glinting in her hand. I squinted to bring it into focus.

  A knife. A big kitchen knife. I felt my own face drain of color and willed myself not to faint. I had to keep Jodie talking until I found a way out of this mess.

  "Some sleuth you are," Jodie said, taking a step forward. I took another one back. Pretty soon my back would be up against the fence. "You thought lazy, boring Mike would be capable of killing anyone? He barely gets off the sofa to go to the bathroom."

  "Why?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the knife. "Why did you kill Missy?"

  "Isn't it obvious? She lied to me my entire life. She let me believe we were sisters instead of proudly claiming me as her own. She brags all over town about Junior and Patsy, but she hides me behind secrets and lies. And all because she and Mike—excuse me, dear old Dad—were too stupid to keep it in their pants in high school. Like that was somehow my fault." Jodie began pacing back and forth as she spoke, her movements getting more and more animated. "She left me with that drunk woman instead. I never felt like she loved me—my grandmother. She either ignored me or yelled at me. I thought it was because I was an accident." Jodie laughed. "Which I guess I was. Just not her accident."

  "What happened that day, Jodie?" I asked. Jodie must have been the girl I saw running on the forest path the evening of the murder. I wished I'd had the forethought to record this conversation on my phone. Too late now; I didn't want to risk a sudden movement by reaching for it.

  "You heard her in that salon," Jodie said. "It was all Michael this and Patsy that and 'children are the most important thing.' God, I thought I was going to gag. I eventually got sick of it and stormed out. She followed me into the woods. When I yelled at her about the lie again, she had the audacity to get mad. She was mad at me! Can you even?"

  I shook my head dutifully even though I didn't think Jodie was focused on me anymore.

  "She told me I needed to find a way to get over it. The past was the past and all that bull. I suggested we could tell everyone the truth. That would help me get over it. She refused. Again. Then she tried to show me her locket." Tears fell from Jodie's eyes as she put on Missy's affect. "'I keep all my kids close to my heart,' she said. Puh-lease." Jodie swiped at the angry tears and gave a derisive laugh. "Like keeping my picture in a locket would make up for denying me all my life. She betrayed me—over and over and over. And was still betraying me, even after I found out the truth. I couldn't take it anymore. I-I didn't even realize I had the scissors in my hand until I swung them at her. They must have been in my apron pocket when I ran from the salon."

  "I'm so sorry, Jodie," I said, meaning it. "The way she treated you was horrible."

  Wasn't an excuse for murder—but I kept that thought to myself.

  "That's right. It was horrible. And I'm not going to suffer one more day for her lies. So, I'm sorry, Alex, but you can't leave."

  "I won't tell," I said quickly, taking another step away and feeling my back hit the wood of the fence. "Everyone knows there was no love lost between Missy and I. Frankly, I think you did Piney Ridge a favor. I promise." I crossed my heart with a finger. "I'm the best at keeping secrets."

  "I don't know you, so I can't trust you. If only you'd kept your nose out of it, like Chief Duncan suggested. I'll work with their suspicion. I think you'll commit suicide over your guilt for killing Missy. How poetic that you do it right here at her house, on the very night of her memorial."

  Jodie's dark eyes were now laser-focused on me, like a huntress on her prey. I shifted sideways down the fence as Jodie stalked me, knife raised in her hand.

  I tried to focus, tried to see through my scared haze and concentrate over the thrum of the blood rushing in my ears and the roar of my racing heart. The moment I reached the corner of the fence, Jodie seized the moment and lunged. I held my breath and waited.

  There was nowhere else to go.

  Chapter 33

  I ducked and rolled to the side as the knife passed my head. For once in my adult life, I thanked my Polish genes for my small stature. The knife got stuck in the fence, and as Jodie struggled to dislodge it—on a string of curses—I put my entire weight behind a kick to Jodie's knee. She fell to the ground, screaming in pain and holding her knee.

  I ran blindly in the dark, trying to remember the location of the pool so I didn't accidentally fall in. I ran until I hit a solid object with an oomph. I ricocheted off and landed hard on the ground. A scream bubbled up in my throat. How did Jodie get in front of me? Hands reached down toward me. I clawed and kicked and scrambled and screamed.

  Until a very familiar and very welcome voice broke through my panic.

  "Alex. Lexi. Alex. It's me. Calm
down. It's me, Alex. It's Linc."

  I stilled immediately, blinking him into focus. Then, hearing a commotion behind me, bolted to my feet, grabbed his hand, and shouted, "Run!"

  He gathered me in his arms to steady me and keep me still. My body was still in fight or flight mode, so I struggled to break free. He held on tighter.

  "She's coming, Linc. She's right behind me," I screeched.

  "Shhhh, Alex. I've got you. You're safe."

  "Sh-sh-she has a knife!" I cried into his shirt. I clung to him, feeling my heart settle a little in his strong embrace.

  "The police are here. Detective Spaulding," he added quickly when he felt me tense. "It's okay."

  I leaned back to look up at him. "But... how? How are you here?"

  "Your phone. I called earlier. You answered but didn't say anything. I heard everything," the last sentence came out on a choke. "I was afraid I wouldn't make it in time."

  "I kicked out her knee," I said lamely.

  I reached for my back pocket. The phone wasn't there. I must have dropped it during the scuffle with Jodie. I glanced back from where I ran. In the darkness, I could see figures emerging. I practically climbed Linc's body to get away.

  "It's okay, Alex," he said again, smoothing a hand over my hair. "It's Detective Spaulding. He has Jodie in custody."

  As they came into the circle of light from the house, I could see Linc was right. Jodie, spitting denials, limped along beside Detective Spaulding who had a firm grip on the cuffs encircling her wrists.

  "It was her! It was all her! She attacked me!" Jodie screamed when she saw me. "I want to press charges. I think she tore something in my knee."

  "We'll get it all sorted out at the station," Detective Spaulding said. He caught my eye and rolled his. I managed a small smile.

  Linc and I followed them from the backyard. A large crowd had gathered on the back porch, watching the bizarre scene unfold.