Before We Were Strangers
Page 35
But if I’m dead, please know that it was no accident. He murdered me just like he murdered his parents and his brother before we even met—maybe not in the same way, but he’s to blame. He admitted it to me once, when he was threatening me. He said if he could kill his entire family without a problem, he wouldn’t even flinch at giving me “what I deserve.”
I can’t prove that he killed them. He’s so damn smart. But I might be able to provide a clue to solving my own murder.
He would never dispose of my body without removing my wedding ring. It’s worth over $100,000; he’d want it back. He’s arrogant enough to believe he could get rid of me while keeping what does matter to him, have the best of both worlds. He thinks he can have anything he wants and always has. You should hear the way he speaks of his dead parents and brother—the disrespect and lack of feeling.
But, again, I don’t have room to go into all of that. I just want to say that the diamond from my wedding ring is registered with the GIA. I’ve included a copy of the certificate with this letter. If you find my diamond, you might be able to trace it back to him. Please try. I know I’m not perfect, but I hope I deserve that much.
And if I’ve been taken from my children, tell them I will love them through eternity and that I hope they will grow up and be happy in spite of their father.
—Clara McBride
Sloane covered her mouth as Micah came to the end. “This was written the year she disappeared,” he said, pointing to the date her mother had put at the bottom.
“She knew things were escalating between her and my father and didn’t know how to stop what was coming.”
“That’s my guess.”
“But Brian Judd killed her. He’s confessed!”
Micah frowned as he pulled the copy of the GIA certificate out from behind the letter and looked it over. “Four carats. Nearly colorless. Very few inclusions. Wow...”
Sloane stared down at the copy of the certificate, too. “If we find her diamond, we might be able to trace it back to Brian Judd. He could’ve taken it from her and sold it as easily as my father, right?”
Concern registered on Micah’s face. “We should be able to trace it to someone. It has a microscopic number engraved inside it. No two diamonds are alike to begin with, so...we’ll see.”
Just when she’d begun to believe her father was innocent! That she’d misjudged him. She’d apologized to him, and yet her mother was speaking as if from the dead, saying he was responsible for killing his parents and brother, and why would she lie? Sloane had always felt that something was missing inside her father, just as her mother said. That was part of the reason she’d been suspicious of him all along—it wasn’t just what she’d heard that night. “Micah, I feel sick.”
He slid his arm around her. “You believe her.”
“I do. That easily. In spite of how nice my father and I have been to each other this week. In spite of what Brian has said. Does that make me a bad daughter?”
“No. Intuition is a funny thing. Sometimes you can just feel when something isn’t right.”
Tears welled up. She didn’t want to go through this again. She’d been trying so hard to forgive her father and believe in him. But if her father killed her mother—or his parents—he needed to be put away so he couldn’t hurt anyone else. “Regardless of whether Brian killed her or my father did, her ring probably wasn’t reported as stolen,” she said. “My father would’ve had the original paperwork. He was the registered owner. So he could easily have gone to LA or New York or somewhere else where there’s a big diamond industry, away from here so the sale wouldn’t trigger any memory of my mother’s disappearance.”
“Doesn’t matter if it was reported as stolen or not,” Micah said. “If it’s registered, it’s registered. The recovery network for diamonds is surprisingly big, and the diamond business itself is surprisingly small. If it’s out there, and not buried with her somewhere, we’ll be able to find it.”
Her phone rang. After dashing a hand across her cheeks to dry her tears, she looked down at it. “No way. My father’s calling.”
Micah tapped the letter. “I bet he never saw this coming.”
“I didn’t even see it coming.”
“Are you going to answer his call?”
She shook her head. “I can’t talk to him right now.”
Micah took the letter and the copy of the GIA report and stood. “I’ll get started on this. The sooner we know, the better.”
She was pretty sure Micah kissed her before leaving, but only a few seconds later, she couldn’t remember. Her mind had been a million miles away in that moment—and it still was.
“Please don’t let it be my father,” she whispered, but it took only three days for Micah to trace the diamond to the store where it’d last been purchased.
* * *
“I found it,” Micah said when Sloane answered his call. She’d been cleaning the house and preparing a salad and some pasta for dinner. But as soon as she heard this news, she had to go sit down.
“Where?” she asked.
“Maine.”
“How’d it get to Maine?” She caught her breath after asking that question because this was the answer she’d been waiting for. Although she’d spoken to her father in the past few days, it’d been so hard to pretend as though nothing had changed.
“Your father sold it separate from the setting to a wholesaler in San Francisco five years after your mother went missing, Sloane. From there it was sold to a store in Maine, where a Mr. Rothwell Sturgis bought it.”
She only cared about the first part; the rest didn’t matter. Your father sold it... The words seemed to echo over and over in her mind. “He kept it until he thought the coast was clear.”
“That’s my guess, too. He held off as a precaution. But when no one really got involved or investigated your mother’s disappearance, he felt safe to liquidate it.”
“How do we know he didn’t take it from her before she left that night? Before Brian killed her? That could be a possibility, right?”
“No. Brian Judd has shown the Granbury detective who’s handling the case where he dropped your mother. They’ve been canvassing the area all day, trying to find someone who might’ve seen her.”
“And?”
“They came across a man who once owned a convenience store at the edge of Rio Vista, a small town of only nine hundred people out in the middle of nowhere. He claims he saw a woman stumble in the night your mother went missing. She was scratched and bruised and didn’t have a coat or shoes. He remembers it was that night specifically because it was the anniversary of his wife’s death, and he was so surprised by her appearance. Nothing like that ever happened before or since. He was shown your mother’s picture, and he confirmed that she was the woman he saw. He said she was beautiful. And he remembers that she was wearing her wedding ring because she had it on when he let her use the phone. He noticed how big the diamond was, wondered how a woman with that kind of money could be out wandering around in the desert and was shocked she hadn’t been mugged. He says he asked if he should call the police, but she wouldn’t let him. She told him she was just lost, needed to get back to her kids and wanted to call her husband. A couple of hours later, someone in a black Corvette picked her up.”
Sloane sat frozen as his words registered in her mind. Her father had owned a black Corvette at the time. “That’s why Brian thought he killed her. Because she never reappeared—at least no one saw her who knew who she was.” Sloane came to her feet. “Wait... Vickie Winters said my father took the boat out that night. He wasn’t driving the Corvette.”
“That’s why I called Vickie as soon as I got this information. She admitted that she made that up about the boat. She wanted to convince you to go after your father. She hates him for what he did to her, and she felt certain he was guilty and going unpunished.”
&nb
sp; Vickie had seemed so credible. “So what did she see that night?”
“She claims your mother showed up, crying and saying she needed to use the phone. After Vickie let her in, your mother called Brian Judd, who came to get her a few minutes later.”
“That’s it?”
“Not quite. Vickie waited to see if anything else was going to happen and said your father came roaring past her house in his black Corvette several hours later.”
“Did she know that the man from the convenience store said my dad was in a black Corvette?”
“No, of course I didn’t tell her that. She offered the information when she retracted the bit about the boat. The fact that her story now matches that of the convenience store owner is what gives it some credibility.”
Suddenly weary beyond words, Sloane closed her eyes. “Is this enough, Micah? Is it enough to put my father away for the rest of his life?”
“Possibly. With Brian’s testimony of the situation, your testimony of what you heard and saw that night, the convenience store owner’s testimony, your mother’s letter, Vickie’s testimony and your mother’s diamond being sold by your father, the evidence is piling up. You should finally get the police support you should’ve had all along. Chief Adler will have to take action in order to save his own ass, because I’m going to threaten to go to the media if he doesn’t. This is too much to ignore.”
“So what will happen to Brian?”
“He’ll go to prison on a lesser charge, attempted murder instead of Murder One.”
“They’ll both go to prison.”
“That’s what they both deserve, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She felt a sadness come over her for all her mother had suffered, and for the loss of what could have been, if only her father had been a better man. But in a strange way, she also felt satisfied that they’d reached the truth at last. Maybe it wasn’t the prettier truth she’d wanted to believe—that Brian, someone who wasn’t related to her, had killed her mother. She didn’t get to think of her father as an innocent man, didn’t get to put her family back together, but she cheered the fact that her mother had overcome her abuser at last. Without the note Clara had thought to hide in that picture, Ed would’ve gotten away with her murder.
“I guess Randy’s going to lose all the perks he’s received for being my father’s son after all,” she said.
EPILOGUE
Eighteen months later...
Sloane stretched her aching back as she examined the produce at the grocery store. She wanted to make some fresh salsa. Since she’d been pregnant, she couldn’t get enough tomatoes. They were all she wanted to eat. But she had to be careful to select peppers to go with the tomatoes that weren’t overly hot. She’d made that mistake last time.
She’d just put a plastic sack containing four small yellow peppers in her grocery cart when she heard the signal for an incoming text and started digging around in her purse to look for her phone. She was picking Trevor up for Micah, since Micah had to work until late, and taking him to a movie after her doctor appointment, and she wanted to be sure it wasn’t Paige saying he couldn’t go.
Her relationship with Paige still wasn’t the strongest. Paige didn’t like letting Trevor spend time with her, and although Trevor was thrilled he would soon have a little sister, Paige was having difficulty accepting Sloane’s pregnancy. She had come to the wedding ten months ago, however—with her folks—so they were all making the effort to be flexible and forgiving, to somehow get beyond what they’d been through. But that attempt had been seriously tested when Sloane had packed up her father’s house following the wedding to get it ready to sell after he went to prison—a difficult thing in and of itself, especially since Randy was still so angry with her he refused to help—and found some shocking photographs of Ed having sex with Paige.
Sloane winced as she continued to dig for her phone. Sometimes she still thought about those pictures. She wished she could erase those images from her mind, but it’d been months since then and they hadn’t faded a bit. That it was her father Paige had slept with explained a great deal about the night Paige had appeared at the motel crying and upset after having sex with someone she wouldn’t name. Sloane couldn’t say for sure, of course, but she guessed that man had to have been Ed. For one, she remembered Paige saying her partner had had a vasectomy, which fit. She also remembered Paige calling herself a terrible friend and could better understand why. Paige had never been interested in Ed; she’d always wanted Micah, so that encounter had been about something else entirely.
Sloane had kept those pictures hidden for several weeks, wondering what she should do, but finally destroyed them before Micah or anyone else could see them. As stomach turning as they were for her, she ultimately knew she couldn’t do anything else.
Although she’d never mentioned them to Paige, she’d sent what she’d shredded to Paige in a box. She’d figured if Paige knew what that mess was, she might be glad to know those pictures had been destroyed. And if she didn’t know what that mess was, she’d ask.
Apparently, she knew, because Sloane had never heard from her regarding that parcel. They both pretended the incident had never occurred. But Paige had let Sloane take Trevor alone, to spend some time with him and get to know him better, for the first time right after.
Sloane moved her cart to the side to allow someone else to get around her as she finally came up with her phone. It was Micah who’d texted her. How’s my beautiful wife?
I’m good, she wrote back. Getting the stuff to make salsa.
More salsa? I thought pregnant women were supposed to crave pickles. Or ice cream.
I’m getting more ice cream, too.
Only three more months and our daughter will be here.
I can’t wait to meet her.
You still picking up Trevor?
Far as I know. You don’t think Paige will back out on me, do you?
Probably not. She’s been so much better lately.
It was only a few months ago that Sloane had sent Paige those shredded pictures. Sloane had a feeling that was why. Paige knew she’d done her a huge favor. Maybe she’s finally coming to terms with everything.
If that’s the case, it’s only because you’ve been so great to Trevor.
Sloane smiled. She was happy to let him think that was what had made the difference. I love Trevor.
He loves you, too. Everyone who knows you loves you.
She was so busy texting with Micah that she didn’t at first see her brother. She was just moving her cart again to get out of the way of someone else, when she caught sight of him. Since Ed had been arrested, she’d become friends with Hadley, which meant she’d been able to see Misty, too, but they’d had to keep any interaction on the down low because her brother still refused to have anything to do with her.
She was tempted to smile at him or reach out to him in some other way. He was all she had left of her original family. But she’d tried so many times already, and she was so much more emotional while she was pregnant. She didn’t want to give him the opportunity to hurt her again. So she quickly averted her gaze and turned away.
She was in the next aisle, trying to forget that she’d even seen him, when she glanced up to find him coming toward her. She couldn’t turn around and hurry off again, not without looking as though she was running from him, so she pretended to be ultra-absorbed in choosing a bag of tortilla chips. She’d thought he’d ignore her as he went by, as he had every other time they’d bumped into each other around town. But this time he stopped.
“Sloane?”
A wave of anxiety drew her nerves taut. She hoped this wasn’t going to turn into a shouting match in the middle of the grocery store. Detective Ramos had finally convinced Sammy Smoot’s sister to talk and, thanks to the information she’d provided, the police could now trace the money Sam had been paid to murder their gran
dparents and uncle back to their father. Ed had just been charged with three more murders and would probably never get out of prison. Sloane could only guess her brother had heard the news and that was why he’d approached her. “Yes?”
“You’re aware of the latest...”
She gripped her shopping cart a little tighter. “About Dad paying Sammy Smoot? Yeah.”
“If you hadn’t come back to Millcreek, if you hadn’t started everything, our father would still be mayor.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, Randy. I didn’t do what I did to hurt you—”
“I realize that,” he broke in. “Now, anyway. I also realize that I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I didn’t want to believe Dad killed Mom. He still insists he didn’t do it, and I wanted to continue to believe him, to believe it was Brian Judd. The police had a confession, after all. And accepting that Dad was guilty meant I was wrong to have trusted him all along.” He looked a little uncomfortable as he ran a hand through his hair. “But with this latest development...”
When his words dwindled off, she understood that he’d finally had to face the truth, finally had to accept what she’d accepted months ago. Their father had murdered several people. They’d been raised by a psychopath. One who was still attempting to lie, who wouldn’t even give them the satisfaction of coming clean at last. “It’s hard to believe someone you love could do such horrible things,” she said. “You were being loyal to Dad. I understand that.”
He hung his head for several seconds before looking at her again. “But you were willing to see the truth, which is even harder, and I was mean to you for it.”
She offered him a smile. “It’s okay, Randy.”
He seemed surprised by her response. “Is it?” he asked. “Can you ever forgive me for being so blind and stupid?”
She’d always wanted to reconnect with her brother, but his resentment had been so great she’d given up. It was hard to believe she might suddenly have the opportunity. “Of course I can forgive you,” she said and reached out to draw him into a hug.