by Cynthia Kuhn
“I care...I do...I...” Selene looked to her twin for support, but Simone remained silent.
Selene sat down heavily in her chair.
Soon her head rotated slowly back in Candace’s direction. “Anyway, you’re a fine one to talk. Everyone knows you were having an affair with Ellis Gardner.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Candace swatted that idea away. “Nice try. And I know you emailed my husband with that ridiculous rumor. Who does that? What is wrong with you?”
Selene mumbled something under her breath.
“What was that?” Candace asked, eyes pinned on Selene.
“I said: it takes one to know one.”
Candace shook her head and walked to the other side of the room, where Richmond was speaking animatedly with Acadia.
I went outside looking for Beckett.
He was already being led by Lex to a police car parked behind the hotel—away from the enormous crowd building an impromptu memorial out front. Once Beckett was safely tucked inside, the driver pulled away.
I stared after him.
Lex came over to me. “It was necessary, Lila. We need answers from him.”
“Thank you for being discreet. But I think you have the wrong guy. He didn’t even find out about the affair until after Flynn was dead.”
“Or he may have found out a long time ago and was playing up the innocent spouse routine.”
I’d forgotten about that possibility.
“And you said he was angry about Flynn running with their idea.” Lex replied. “He had more than one motive.
“True. But he just doesn’t seem like—”
“Lila. We can’t go on feelings alone in this job.”
“That’s not true,” I retorted. “You listen to your intuition all the time.”
He acknowledged this with a bob of the head one way, then another. “Maybe so. But you’re forgetting that we also know Beckett Standhouse was very upset with Ellis. For excluding him from the book project.”
“He said he was at first. But that he’d gotten over it. Which is completely normal. It’s hard to be rejected.”
“But maybe he’s not really over it, Professor.”
“Fair enough. Still, I would be very surprised if Beckett Standhouse was capable of killing.”
“I appreciate your assessment, but we need to question him further, right now.” He softened his tone. “Thanks for your help with everything. Not sure I’ve said that enough.”
“All right, but will you please be gentle with him?”
“We will.”
“What about Selene as a suspect?” I had to throw that out there.
“You did bring her up before. But why would she have killed Ellis?”
I shrugged. “Maybe there are two killers.”
He blew out a puff of air. “You’re right. That’s always worth exploring. But that explanation is more complicated. Often times, the simpler answer is the right one. For now, we’re looking for someone who had cause to attack both victims.”
“I see.”
“I’ll keep it in mind though.” After he’d taken a few steps, he spoke over his shoulder. “And don’t go getting yourself into any situations trying to prove me wrong, okay? Stay safe.”
I waved at him. “I won’t.”
I would do my best, anyway.
Not long afterwards, I was back at the table. Calista and Nate had both arrived. People walked between tables, laughing and snapping pictures together. Selene and Simone appeared to be deep in snub-your-sibling mode—looking anywhere except at each other. Beckett’s chair was conspicuously empty. Richmond, by the wall talking with Acadia, waved at the Raleighs to come over. They stood and moved in his direction. Candace, catching sight of the twins moving away, quickly followed. She probably wanted to run interference in case Richmond got it in his head to offer them a new contract.
“Where’s Beckett?” Calista asked, gesturing toward his chair. “Isn’t he up for an award? Not that I think he’ll win—my money’s on you, Lil—but wouldn’t you think he would want to be here?”
“If I were him, I wouldn’t,” Nate said. “Poor guy. I don’t care what Selene says—she was a big cheater. That’s obvious.” Under his breath, he added, “Little bit of Rappaccini’s daughter about her, isn’t there?”
I replied quietly in kind. “You mean she’s poisonous, like in the Hawthorne story?”
“Through and through, from what I’ve seen. Who says Hawthorne isn’t relevant these days?”
As much as I loved a good literary allusion, I needed to steer us back on track. “Beckett has been taken to the police station,” I told them. “But keep it on the down low.”
“Did Lex say what the plan was?” Nate asked. “Oh wait, you two aren’t talking.”
“Actually, we are. We had a long talk. He and his wife are separated. I misunderstood.”
“Are you sure?” Nate crossed his arms, looking disappointed. “I mean, he could just be saying what you want to hear.”
Calista considered what Nate had said. “What proof do you have?”
“I don’t need proof. How could you even prove something like that?”
Their eyes met. They didn’t believe me.
“Did you speak to her?” Calista pressed. “I mean, that would lend weight to his claims.”
“He offered that, but I passed. Why would I want to talk to his wife? Trust me, I know Lex. He’s telling the truth.”
“Why aren’t they divorced?”
“It’s in the works.”
“Why didn’t they do it before?”
“They wanted to be sure. And she was overseas...and...” It felt incredibly strange defending my not-divorced boyfriend whom I’d just learned was married, so I stopped talking.
My cousin spoke, after it became clear that I wasn’t going to finish the sentence. “I like the guy, and I want you to be happy.”
“I want you to be happy too,” Nate echoed.
“Thank you for that—and for helping me through everything before, when I wasn’t sure what was going on.”
We were quiet for a spell after that. I gave them a chance to process the news.
Simone returned to the table, her expression stony.
“Everything okay?” Calista smiled at her.
“Yes. I wasn’t needed,” Simone said airily, brushing something off of her sleeve. Her tone didn’t match her drawn facial expression.
“What’s going on over there?” Nate leaned forward. “I thought you and your sister did everything together.”
“We don’t, first of all.” She attempted to cast a dazzling smile at him but it was wooden at best. “And secondly, I wouldn’t know. They said they didn’t need me.” She turned away from us and pulled out her phone.
The subject was closed.
I peeked around Nate’s back at the place where they’d been standing, but the trio was moving up the stairs, behind the curtain of the stage.
Well, I guess we knew who the winner of the award would be.
But why wouldn’t Simone join them too?
Now that I thought about it, wouldn’t Simone be the more appropriate person up there? She’s the only one who did any writing.
I had no idea what was going on.
Acadia still hadn’t gone up on the stage.
I took the opportunity to do a little more digging. “Hey, Simone, what was Selene saying about Ellis?”
She shrugged.
Here I thought we’d bonded earlier tonight on the terrace, when I’d offered a shoulder to cry on and found myself buried under an avalanche of issues. Big stuff. Heavy stuff. Stuff you would only tell a close friend.
Or therapist.
And now she was giving me the cold shoulder?
Did she not remember telling me? Or
did she regret telling me? Or was she just drunk? I didn’t know what her behavior meant.
It probably would have been easier to accept the fact that I would never be able predict what the Raleighs would do. At all.
But I couldn’t, somehow.
“Simone, anything she has mentioned about Ellis might be important. Think carefully, please. Did she ever talk to you about him?”
“Not much. Just...basic colleague stories.”
Those could certainly run the gamut from admiring to scathing. “No quarrels with him that you remember? Or with anyone?”
“Not until tonight. I mean, you saw the way Candace treated her.”
“They both seemed to be giving as well as getting.”
Simone blinked at that.
“What was she saying about Candace and Ellis again?”
“She said there were rumors that they had been having an affair for a long time.”
Candace had literally laughed in Selene’s face when that was raised. I wasn’t putting much stock in that rumor, but you never know. “How about Flynn? Did Selene ever talk about him?”
“Why do you keep asking questions about my sister? Wasn’t your interrogation out on the terrace enough?”
“Interrogation? There was no interrogation. I was just listening—”
“Yes, you did. You grilled me. You were insistent. You had to know all our private business, didn’t you?”
“No, I—”
“Why can’t you just leave us alone, Lila?”
“Leave you alone? You’re the ones who proposed a book on a topic that you knew I was working on! You’re the ones who asked if your book could be published ahead of mine while I was sitting right there! And you, Simone, are also the one who has relentlessly mocked me, my family, and every single project I’ve done—yet you’ve taken credit when you haven’t lifted a finger.”
She blinked again, rapidly this time.
“It’s true,” I said. “And you’re a bully. But you always claim to be the victim.”
“You do,” Calista added.
“She’s right,” Nate said.
I leaned toward Simone. “Listen closely: you need to stop. Stop it right now.”
She drew back abruptly. “I will not sit here and take one more minute of this attack.” Simone scooped up her purse and shook her finger at me. “You are awful.”
“See? There you go again.” I pointed at her. “Whenever someone stands up to you, you flip the script. Make yourself into the victim. It’s ridiculous, Simone. Enough already.”
Her eyes widened, then she spun and marched herself to the back of the room to sit on a barstool.
Direct confrontation wasn’t my favorite thing. I took stock and realized that I was shaking. It wasn’t that I was scared, but sometimes when I had to deal with something emotionally intense, my body thought it was time to shoot out lively streams of adrenaline, as if decorating for a party.
“Good for you,” my cousin said. “Brava.”
“I concur,” Nate said, looking down at my trembling hands. “But shall I get you a shot of tequila or something?”
“That’s the last thing I need,” I assured him.
“Let’s just rest for a minute,” Calista said. “Who cares who was having an affair with whom. We’re here for the awards and...” she raised her glass, “the drinks!”
The jolt of energy seemed to be helping me think more clearly, make connections.
And then something clicked.
Something that had been right there all along.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, jumping up from my chair so fast that it shot backwards.
Calista and Nate exchanged a glance.
“I need to move around anyway, release some of this extra energy.” I shook my hands a little bit, which helped, then I picked up my chair and set it gently in place.
“Are you sure?” Calista looked concerned.
“Yes. Be right back.” I moved quickly through the crowd before they could stop me. Acadia was walking up the stairs. I followed her behind the curtain. She went left, onto the stage, and I went right, behind where Richmond and Selene were standing. They were poised in the wings, staring at Acadia, and didn’t see me. Richmond was tapping an envelope against his thigh. Selene was twisting the recently returned ring off of her finger, grimacing as if in pain.
Acadia leaned toward the microphone. “Let’s begin the awards ceremony with a minute of silence for Flynn McMaster. We all know how special he was, and his life was cut tragically short.”
As the attendees went quiet to honor the author, I edged farther into the wings, where it was pitch black. I moved slowly in the darkness, my arms out in front of me so I didn’t bump into anything. Everything seemed to slow down as I groped forward with hesitant steps. All I could hear was my own breathing.
When Acadia began speaking again, I sensed someone moving rapidly toward me. I couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, and the shove threw me onto the ground, hard.
I scrambled to crawl forward and lurched onto Candace, wrapping my arms around her legs as she passed me.
“Look out!” I yelled.
She was thrown off balance, but still managed to swing something as she fell, and Richmond, who had twisted sideways, had a look of horror on his face in response to the sight of his colleague behind him, arm upraised.
After a loud and sickening thud, he crashed to the ground.
Chapter 20
“Richie! No!” Candace screamed and dove onto her friend, putting her hands on his head to stop the blood from flowing out of the wound she’d just created. “I didn’t mean to hit you!”
Selene, who had bent over to pick up the ring she’d dropped, stood upright but, catching sight of Richmond, went pale and slid to the floor.
I dialed 911 while Acadia went over to attend to Selene. People left their tables and formed a line along the stage, pointing and speculating. I spoke with the dispatcher until I felt someone remove the phone from my hand.
Lex gave me a nod and took over—bless him—while I stumbled over to the hay bales and sank down on one.
Officers burst through the back of the barn and ushered the gawking crowd out the front doors in an orderly fashion.
Candace was taken out in handcuffs. She was screeching and kicking at the officers, who stoically escorted her.
Selene was comforted and led away by Simone.
The paramedics arrived, did what they could for Richmond, and took him away to the hospital. He hadn’t regained consciousness, but he was still alive.
For now.
Lex brought me to the Stonedale police station, a three-story rectangular building that had a pleasant facade of red brick and arched windows. I knew from previous visits to meet Lex that while the outside retained its historical charm, the inside was as modern as any university lab, with technology everywhere, from the security cameras to the computers everywhere you looked.
We passed the main counter, saying hello to Marcie, the officer who buzzed us through the locked door into a large room with desks in two neat rows and offices along both walls. I tried to get Lex to slow down and talk to me for a second, but he said we needed to hurry. We stopped in his unadorned office so that he could grab a file out of the battered black cabinet, then he led me through some hallways into a room with a rectangular pane along one side.
Candace was seated at a long table in the next room, staring directly at us. It was eerie, though I was pretty sure she couldn’t see through the glass.
“That’s a one-way mirror, right?”
“Yes. Keep a close eye on how she responds, physically as well as verbally.”
“I can watch?”
“This time,” he said. “We’re not going to make a habit of it, Lila. But the chief—”
“Yes, I said so.�
�� Chief Cortez walked into the room. He was slightly taller than I was, and his dark wavy hair was shot with gray. He extended his arm and gave my hand a firm shake. Like the other officers, he was wearing a blue uniform that had a nametag below a flag pin. All of them had a badge on the other side as well, but his had an extra bar with “Police Chief” engraved in bold letters. The small paunch above his belt did nothing to lessen his authority—in fact, it gave him a certain kind of solidity. “Hello, Dr. Maclean. We meet again.”
I said hello and thanked him for inviting me to consult.
“You’ve been most helpful,” he said, giving me a wide smile. “Archer here has kept me posted. We’re grateful. Now, let’s get going.”
The chief and I watched as Lex went into the next room. Another detective—I presumed—followed soon afterwards, carrying two cups of coffee. He offered one to Candace, who refused, then handed it to Lex.
Lex sat down across from her at the scarred wooden table. They went through her rights again to be sure she understood them, then did some paperwork and checked all the necessary information in her file to be sure it was accurate. Throughout, Candace remained calm and polite. It was a complete 180-degree turn from the agitated woman they’d dragged from the barn a little while ago. She must have realized that she was in serious trouble.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” he began.
“When?”
“Let’s start with tonight. Why did you hit Richmond?”
She flinched, as if the words were too blunt. “I didn’t mean to.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I love him.”
“You’re in love with him?” Lex made a note.
“No. I love him. He’s been a true friend.”
“If he’s your friend, why did you hit him with...” he flipped through some papers, “a pipe?”
“Yes, it was a pipe. It was all I could find groping around in the wings. But I wasn’t trying to hit him. I was trying to hit her.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.