by Brenda Novak
Besides, there was one other thing she could tell Sloane...
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end of the line was filled with sleep. Vickie would’ve hung up, except she knew the caller ID had already identified her. “Sloane? It’s Vickie.”
“Yeah. I...uh... I saw your name.”
“Sorry, have I bothered you too late?”
“No, I dozed off a little early tonight, that’s all. Can you give me a second?”
After putting her mail on the table, Vickie locked the front door and made the rounds to be sure the other doors were locked, too. She’d just returned to the kitchen when Sloane came back on the line.
“What’s up?” Sloane asked, her voice more strident.
“Nothing much, which is why I feel bad that I woke you. I was just wondering how things are going.”
“You mean with my father...”
“Yeah. Have you heard from him?”
“Of course. Nothing goes on in Millcreek that escapes his notice, especially when it threatens him.”
Fortunately, that wasn’t entirely true. Vickie knew he didn’t see her as having any power, that he’d be surprised at what she was doing—and how far she was willing to go in order to make him accountable, at last. “Have you learned anything more about what happened to your mother?”
“Not a lot. My father is doing all he can to encourage me to give up and leave. But I won’t.”
Vickie had hoped to let Sloane lead the charge. She hated for Ed to realize she wasn’t as broken and cowed as he believed, didn’t want him to turn his sights on her. That was why she’d asked Sloane not to use her name unless absolutely necessary. But maybe she should step forward. She had to support Sloane. This was the chance she’d been waiting for, and it could be her only chance. “If it’ll help to tell the police what I said about him taking the boat out that night—”
“I’ve already told Micah Evans. I’m not sure if you’ve met him—”
“That was the boy you used to date in high school.”
“Yes. He’s a police officer these days, and he’s been helping me. But only unofficially. The rest of the force—they won’t get involved.”
“How can they not get involved?”
“They keep saying there’s no evidence, that this is a witch hunt designed to malign the mayor for political reasons. Bottom line, they’re too afraid it’ll cost them their jobs to oppose him. If they try and fail, they’re screwed, so they won’t get involved. But I think he might’ve dumped my mother’s body at Lake Granbury. I’m taking my scuba gear up there to the cabin my father owns tomorrow to search.”
“You’re going into the lake?”
“If he was towing the boat that night, I believe he’d go to the lake before the river.”
“Even though the river is so much closer?”
“He wouldn’t want her body to be found floating in a river that’s almost in his own backyard. The lake makes more sense.”
Vickie had been to the cabin, too. She remembered every detail of that place as if it was yesterday. It had been one of her few weekends away from Millcreek during her marriage. Dean had been traveling on business to meet one big client or another—he worked in corporate law and represented some of the big Fortune 500 companies—and Ed had hired an in-home hospice worker to care for Sarah while they were gone. That he would do such a thing for another man’s wife and daughter had been bold, daring. If her husband had called the house, he could so easily have realized something was up. But he rarely called when he was away. By then he’d gotten tired of hearing about how lonely she was.
So she’d gone.
At first, that weekend had been magical, but after the first two days, Ed had lost interest in her and wound up bringing her back early. She’d never been more confused or hurt, kept wondering what she’d done to cause him to back away. But he had no reasons he could express. In the end, she’d decided she was simply too nice, too easy and too desperate. He was a man who liked a challenge, and she’d been in no position to give him one.
“I hope you find something,” she told Sloane, closing her eyes as she recalled the smell of the grass and low-lying shrubs that surrounded the cabin and the feel of the expensive linens on the bed where she’d made love with Ed.
“So do I,” Sloane said.
Vickie almost let her hang up. She had to be careful, let this develop naturally or Sloane wouldn’t trust her. But at the last second, she spoke up. “There’s something else you should know, something I haven’t wanted to tell you because, well, it’s not the type of thing you’re going to want to hear.”
“What’s that?”
Vickie could sense the tension in those words. “Your mother was pregnant.”
There was a brief silence before Sloane said, “How do you know?”
“She told me. She was so worried, so afraid for when your father found out.”
“Because he didn’t want any more children?”
“Because it wasn’t his.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Micah could hear the low murmur of Sloane’s voice in the other room. He’d felt her get out of bed so she could talk without waking him, but as tired as he was after an exhausting day—and then making love twice in the space of an hour—he hadn’t been able to drift off again. Not only was he wondering who would call her so late, now that he was completely sated, he was worried about his job and how he’d pay his child support if that job went away. He figured he could work for his parents, at least in the short-term. They’d try to help. But he didn’t want to be a burden on them. And he’d left the farm because he’d always wanted to be a cop.
He reached over to get his phone so he could see if Paige had returned any of his calls or text messages. He was hoping to reach her, to talk her into withdrawing her complaint. What she’d said was such a terrible lie. He’d never dreamed she’d go that far, had always believed she was a fairly decent person despite the way she’d nearly suffocated him with her love.
“Shit,” he muttered when he saw that she still hadn’t responded. That concerned him more than anything else. She’d never behaved quite like this. If she persisted in telling people he’d held a gun to her head, she’d not only cost him his job, she’d cost him his reputation and the ability to work for law enforcement in the future. And worse than anything, she could possibly use that to make it impossible for him to see his son again. Maybe that was what this was all about.
With a sigh, he returned his phone to the nightstand and fell back on the pillows, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Making love with Sloane had been passionate and intense. He felt completely consumed when he was with her, which was the most satisfying experience he could imagine. But he wasn’t sure how he was going to deliver on some of the reassurances he’d given her. He’d told her everything would be okay, that they just needed to stick together and work as a team, which sounded good in theory, especially because he didn’t want to lose her again, but he wasn’t sure how, exactly, they were going to prevail—especially when they had so many things to consider. He’d promised himself when he left Paige that he wouldn’t bring another woman into Trevor’s life right away, that he’d give the poor kid some time to adjust.
But this wasn’t just any woman. This was the woman, the one he should’ve been with all along.
That made a difference, didn’t it?
He hoped so. He hated the thought that it might be too selfish of him to even ask.
The hum of Sloane’s voice in the other room stopped. He propped himself up on his elbows, waiting for her to come back to bed, but she didn’t.
Something was wrong.
He got up, pulled on his boxer briefs and went to find her.
She was sitting on the couch in nothing but his T-shirt, which she must’ve scooped off the floor as she hurried out of
the room.
“What is it?”
She startled. Apparently, she’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t heard his footsteps. “I’m sorry. I was trying not to wake you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He sat beside her and took her hand. “Who was on the phone?”
“Vickie Winters.”
“Your father’s neighbor?”
She nodded.
“She said something to upset you?”
“I don’t know if upset is the right word, but she definitely dropped a bombshell. She said my mother was pregnant when she went missing.”
“Whoa!” He took a moment to think that over. “Did your father know?”
“I’m guessing he did. That might be what sparked the argument they had that night—why it got so bad.”
“Was she supposed to be on the pill or something?”
“Vickie claims my mother told her he had a vasectomy after I was born.”
Micah felt his eyes widen. “Yikes!”
“Exactly.”
“So whose baby was it? Brian Judd told you they never had sex, that the relationship didn’t progress that far.”
“He had to be lying. She couldn’t have been seeing anyone else. She was always with us kids.”
“Maybe he loved your mother enough to try to preserve her reputation. If she is no longer with us why would anyone have to know about the baby? I could see myself trying to protect you in that way.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “That’s what you think he was doing?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“I guess. But it was a shock to hear something like that, makes me feel even worse for my mother and the situation she was in. She was so miserable.”
“I didn’t know Vickie Winters and your mother were friends.”
“They must’ve been, to a degree. I’m getting the impression my mother didn’t have a lot of people she could count on back then, so it’s conceivable she’d tell Vickie. Vickie said my mom was terrified for when my father would find out.”
“I can imagine.” He smoothed her hair back—a strand was tickling his face—but she sat up almost immediately, took her phone, which she’d dropped in her lap, and began scrolling through her contacts.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m calling my brother,” she replied.
* * *
Claiming she had the opportunity to go to a trade show in Las Vegas, Paige had taken Trevor to her parents’ house as soon as Ed left her store and asked them to watch him for the next few days. She’d also lined up Megan Vance, her only employee, to take over at Little Bae Bae.
It hadn’t been easy to talk Megan into working the extra days—that was more than they’d agreed when Megan was hired, and Megan had had to rearrange her schedule in order to be available—but Paige had pleaded with her. She’d had to leave, had to get out of town. She couldn’t stand the idea of seeing or speaking to Micah or Sloane—especially Micah—after what she’d done. And yet, if she retracted her accusation, she’d face something much worse. So there was nothing she could do to stop what was about to happen.
“It’s his own fault,” she kept muttering to herself. “None of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t left me. I didn’t deserve to lose my husband. I was a loving, devoted wife and mother.” But all the excuses she’d dredged up since leaving Millcreek gave her little comfort. A lie was a lie. She’d ruined Micah’s career to save herself from the humiliation she’d have to face otherwise.
She’d been driving for four hours when she saw the lights of Houston ahead, but she wasn’t ready to stop. She had no idea where she was going or where she’d end up. Maybe she’d turn around and go to Austin or back past Millcreek to Dallas. As long as she didn’t have to see anyone she knew until the worst of it was over, she didn’t care where she stayed.
She glanced over at her purse, which was sitting in the passenger seat. She’d turned off her phone and hadn’t powered it up since she’d loaded her suitcase into the trunk. She knew she had to be receiving a barrage of calls and texts. Micah freaking out. Sloane, too. Even her parents would be shocked when they heard the news. Shocked and saddened. They’d always liked Micah, which was why she hadn’t mentioned the document she’d signed when she dropped Trevor off. She’d simply hugged her son, told him she loved him and would be home soon and jumped in her car to get the hell out of town.
As much as she hated herself for running away, every time her conscience started to get the best of her and she began to slow down with the intention of turning around, she’d picture the graphic photographs Ed had in his possession. She’d rather die than have the whole town see him using a dildo on her. So then she’d give the car some more gas and put even more miles between her and Millcreek.
She didn’t even power up her phone when, distraught and exhausted, she finally rented a room in San Antonio and dropped, sobbing, onto the bed.
* * *
Randy didn’t answer on the first try. Sloane was tempted to get dressed and go over there. She would have if Micah hadn’t stopped her. Instead, she kept calling—again and again and again—and, finally, he answered.
“What the hell, Sloane?” he snarled in lieu of hello.
Sloane steeled herself for a difficult conversation. “Did you know that Mom was pregnant when she disappeared?”
Silence.
“Randy?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Too agitated to remain sitting, Sloane sprang to her feet and began to pace. “How can you say that?”
“I don’t see how it changes anything! It doesn’t tell us what happened to her.”
“The baby wasn’t Dad’s, which tells us she was in a precarious situation. How do you think Dad would react to learning that news?”
More silence. Sloane glanced at Micah, who was still on the couch, watching her closely. He was on edge, thought Randy might get ugly with her.
“He’d be angry, right?” she said. “Maybe even enraged?”
“You’re heading down the wrong road.” Now her brother sounded more weary than he did angry.
“I don’t think so. I still don’t know a lot about the situation back then, but I’ve learned a few things. Mom was unhappy in her marriage. She was unfulfilled. She was lonely. And she had a serial cheater for a husband. She was ripe for falling in love with someone else, and that’s exactly what she did. I’ve even talked to the man she was involved with—my kindergarten teacher, Mr. Judd! You’ve heard that name before, haven’t you?”
“You know I have,” he said.
“He’s what they were fighting about the night she went missing.”
“So? You’ve told me that before!”
“It’s relevant because the pregnancy was probably why it got so explosive between them.”
“You’re driving me nuts,” he said. “Why can’t you leave this alone?”
She pivoted at the boxes that were stacked around the perimeter of the room. “Because I’m finally getting somewhere.”
“You believe Dad killed Mom because she was pregnant with another man’s baby.”
“Yes!”
“How do you know Brian Judd isn’t the one who killed her, Sloane? Maybe Judd was afraid she’d tell Dad and didn’t want him to find out. Maybe he was afraid his wife would leave him. Maybe both!”
“No. Brian Judd loved Mom.”
“Enough to divorce his wife? Because the way I understand it, they’re still together.”
Sloane had no good comeback. “He’s admitted to me that he cared about Mom,” she insisted. But he’d also lied and claimed they’d never slept together—not that she was going to tell Randy that.
“Listen to me. One night when we were both a little drunk, Dad told me he pushed Mom into the wall the night she went missing and mad
e a big hole in the sheetrock. He even showed me where.”
“See? I heard that happen, saw the hole in the wall. I was telling the truth, and my memory is sound!”
“Just listen to me. He said he was as shocked as she was by what he’d done, so he let her go, at which point she ran out of the house, crying. Feeling bad, he followed her, hoping to bring her back—until he saw her go into the neighbor’s house.”
Listening intently, Sloane stared at her bare feet as she moved. “Most likely to call the cops,” she said as she pictured her mother hurrying next door. “So why didn’t they come?”
“If she called them, they would have. The fact that they didn’t means she called someone else. Dad said a car came a few minutes later. He believes it was Brian Judd.”
“Did Dad ever ask the neighbor to confirm?”
“No, because he’d recently had an affair with her. He’d broken it off by then, but she was hurt and angry. He didn’t want to knock on her door and make a bad situation even worse.”
Sloane felt nauseous. How many women had her dad slept with? “He’d recently had an affair with the neighbor? My God! He was already sleeping with Katrina from the dealership.”
“Which is why Mom and Dad were so unhappy.”
“And this is the man you remain so loyal to?”
“I’ve never said he wasn’t a cheater, Sloane. I’ve only said he wasn’t a murderer.”
She shook her head. “Poor Mom. Which neighbor was this? The Bancrofts or the Dooleys?”
“Neither. It was Vickie Something. She lived a few houses down, remember? Took care of a mentally impaired daughter.”
Sloane nearly dropped her phone. “Vickie Winters?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“That’s the name Dad told me.”
So why hadn’t Vickie told her about Clara coming to the house that night?
“Sloane?” he said when she didn’t respond.