“I saw that my sister looked like crap. She had a black eye and could barely walk. And you know what that loser’s excuse was?”
Still looking directly at Mason, Kent shook his head.
“He was mad because Liana had brought home too much money from the job she had back then. She used to look after an old lady who had dementia. She’d clean and cook for her. The kids gave her a bonus as a thank-you but Billy refused to believe it,” Mason said. “He called her a liar even though anyone could’ve backed up her claim.”
“That doesn’t make much sense,” Dad said.
“Of course it doesn’t, but it didn’t need to in the first place,” Mason bit out. “None of us thought he was good enough for her when they married, but my parents were sure Billy would get better. That my little sister was somehow going to convince him to become a whole new person.” His jaw tightened. “But he didn’t change. Only got worse.”
“What did you do when you saw your sister?”
Mason stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Did you take her to the doctor?”
“No. She wouldn’t go. She never would go.” He fumbled in his pocket. Pulled out another cigarette but didn’t light it.
“I have a statement from someone who says that as soon as you saw your sister, you took off to go find Billy,” Kent said.
Mason blinked, then looked like he was trying not to smile. “Wait, is that what you’ve decided happened to him? I saw my sister beat up, so I ran after him and killed him so he wouldn’t hurt her again?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a brother did something like that,” his father murmured.
“Look, I did go find him. But he was with all his new friends.” He waved a hand. “A bunch of losers. Drug dealers. He was already hopped up on something.”
“Did you say anything to him?”
“No.” Mason pursed his lips. “I probably should’ve, but I didn’t trust those guys not to shoot me for getting in their business.”
Kent didn’t bother to hide his disbelief. “So you ran out to find Billy, but then you got scared of his friends and left? Just like that?”
“Yeah.” His expression was perfectly blank. “That’s the kind of great brother I was, Officers. My sister had herself an abusive, drug-addicted, drug-dealing husband and I didn’t even so much as touch the guy. Just in case I might get hurt, too. So that’s what I’ve had to live with.”
“Not really,” said his father quietly. “After all, by all accounts, no one ever saw your brother-in-law again.”
Mason finally lit the cigarette that he’d been holding on to like a lifeline. “You’re exactly right. It was like one minute he was in our lives and I couldn’t get him out of it, and the next? He was gone.”
“That had to be an answer to a prayer,” Kent murmured.
“To a prayer?” Mason shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was.” His voice grew calm, almost reflective. “I do know that I was pretty happy to see the last of him, if you want to know the truth.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
Mason gave him an incredulous look. “He beat my sister. Jeanie and I had been trying to convince Liana to leave him for months but she’d always refused.” After taking another drag from his cigarette and exhaling, he added, “Weeks later Liana put on weight. Then she started painting, and got that job at the diner, and even began to smile for a while. She had ten years of happiness. And then you went and found him.”
The statement hung in the air as Mason inhaled another dose of nicotine.
And when a thin cloud of smoke dissipated in the air, Kent realized he didn’t have a single thing more to say.
Nothing that mattered, anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The conversation with Mason had gone on for longer than Kent had anticipated. It had also been about ten times more productive than he’d imagined. After Mason took off, Kent reported in to Sergeant Crier while his father checked his phone for messages.
“What did you think about that guy?” his dad asked as they headed back to his vehicle. “I found him to be a surprise.”
“I felt the same way. He was far more forthcoming and honest than I thought he’d be,” Kent replied.
“Do you think he did it?”
Kent weighed his words carefully as they walked to his car. Though he knew his father wasn’t setting him up or giving him some kind of verbal test, he did expect a thoughtful response. And the case deserved it, too. “Before we started talking to Mason, there was no question in my mind that he’d killed his brother-in-law. He had the motive and the means to do it. But now...” His voice drifted off.
“Now you aren’t so sure?”
He looked up at his father and saw a professional curiosity in his eyes. He wasn’t just going through the motions and waiting for Kent to keep up. “No, sir. I’m not. Honestly, I’m not sure about anything right now.”
Thinking back on the conversation, even on the way Mason had stood there, smoking that one cigarette and trying so hard not to have a second, it had seemed that the guy hadn’t had a thing to hide. “I thought he would’ve acted like he was guilty.”
“He still holds a lot of anger for Billy. I guess I can’t blame him.”
“I can’t blame him, either.” Hating that he felt like a rookie instead of a cop who’d been on the force for years, Kent added, “I don’t know what I thought I would discover during our conversation, Dad. I guess I thought he would have acted more paranoid or shifty or something? I’ve interviewed a lot of suspects, and I could be wrong—but I was starting to think that I had a good feel for hearing the truth.”
“I was feeling the same things you were, Kent.”
“Really? What made you rethink your perception of him?”
“The way he was so disgusted with the police. It was like he had given up on us doing anything to help his sister, locate his brother-in-law or now find the killer.” Flicking on the turn signal, he entered the empty parking lot where Kent’s sedan was waiting. “If he’d had more to do with Billy’s death, I don’t think he would’ve been quite so gutsy.”
“Unless he’s a psychopath.”
“If he was, he probably would’ve killed someone else by now,” Dad pointed out. “Do you think that’s a possibility?”
“Nope.” Unbuckling his seat belt, he said, “So Mason Kelly looks to be a dead end. Where do you think that leaves me now?”
“You? What happened to us?” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you getting rid of me as your sidekick already?”
“Of course not. But you have your own caseload. Besides... I should probably solve this on my own for Sergeant Crier.” And for his reputation. No one was going to give him the time of day at the station house if it became widely known that he’d had to get his father’s help to solve a cold case.
“I wouldn’t fret much about Crier’s opinion of you. The guy’s been around the block a few times.”
“At least,” Kent said in a dry tone.
“He’s a good cop and always has been. The thing about Crier is that he’s down in cold-case world because that’s where he chooses to be. He gives those cases—and the people who are suffering because they remain unsolved—the dignity they deserve.”
Immediately, Kent tried to backtrack. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like Sergeant Crier didn’t know what he was doing. I completely respect him.”
“Kent, you’re forgetting something. There’s a reason this case wasn’t solved the first time around. It wasn’t poor policing skills. It’s the fact that it’s plain confounding.”
“I’ll look over my notes from today and go back over the file again. I feel like I’ve missed something that’s staring me right in the face.”
“If you want me to reach out to my contacts again, I will,” his father offered.
“I’m inclined to agree. The broken neck and the gunshot wound, combined with the cuffs on his wrists seems personal.” With a grimace he added, “Yeah. It was personal. Very personal.”
“Thanks again for coming. I really appreciate it.”
“It wasn’t a problem at all. Actually, I think it did me good to get out of the office for a while. Sometimes I think all I ever do anymore is paperwork.” Placing the vehicle in Park, he said, “Switching topics...should I tell your mother that you’ll see her at church on Sunday?”
“Yep. I’ll be there for Sunday supper, too.”
“You going to bring Liana again?” There was a note of hope in his voice even as he held up a hand. “I’m just asking for your mother.”
Hating that he was going to have to disappoint them both, he looked away. “I’ll see, but I kind of doubt it, Dad.”
“Supper with us was too tough, huh?”
“Not at all. Liana told me that she really liked y’all and I believe her. It’s more that I told her we were going to pay a call on her brother today. She didn’t seem too pleased about that.”
His father chuckled. “Families. No matter what, they’re the ties that bind, right?”
“Right.” Kent clasped his dad’s forearm for a moment before getting out and heading to his vehicle. But as his father drove off and he got into his own car, there was something about his father’s parting words that resonated with him.
Families. Ties that bind. Personal. Boy, could it really be that simple? And if it was, would Liana ever forgive him for what he was about to do?
Wanting, no needing, to connect with her again, he quickly punched in her number. While it rang, he ran through a number of things he could say. Some were short and to the point, while others were more drawn out and heartfelt.
“Hello, this is Liana—”
“Liana, this is Kent,” he began, before stopping abruptly. He’d gotten her recorded message, not her.
She hadn’t picked up.
Disconnecting the call, he tossed his phone on the seat next to him and tried to remind himself that there were a number of possible reasons she hadn’t answered. The most likely was that she was painting and therefore ignoring everything else.
But a sixth sense—or maybe it was just his heart—was telling him the most likely scenario. She hadn’t picked up his call on purpose.
Because he had nothing else to say that she wanted to hear.
Chapter Twenty-Five
She didn’t often paint late at night after working an eight-hour shift at the diner, but Liana couldn’t resist. Ever since Kent had asked why she was still working at the diner when she obviously didn’t need the paycheck, the hours spent there had felt tedious.
Oh, it wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy Angel, Viv, Gabe and the other people she worked with—or her customers. It was that the thought of spending every day with her art simply sounded so good. Now, every time she served a grumpy tourist or fended off a flirt or felt a twinge in her lower back when she mopped the floors at night, Liana was reminded that she didn’t have to do it anymore.
The moment she’d gone home, she’d taken a long shower and slipped on her favorite old jeans and painting shirt. Then, after taking a cursory look at her mail, she’d turned on the radio to an oldies station and retreated to her studio.
Before long, the scent of her oils, combined with the joy she received from doing an activity she loved, revived her. She turned the music up a little louder, let her mind drift a little more and was soon consumed by her latest canvas.
The chime of her doorbell followed by incessant knocking pulled her away with a start.
“Hold on, I’m coming!” she called out as she picked up a rag and wiped down her brushes before rushing to the door. For the first time in ages, she pulled it open without looking. Maybe Martha or Sol was sick or had an emergency?
But the moment she faced the person on the other side, she wished she’d taken a moment to peek out the window first, if only to give her a second to conceal her shock.
“Mason, what are you doing here?”
He smirked as he gestured to her right hand. She was still holding two paintbrushes. “Guess I now know why you didn’t answer the first two times I rang the bell.”
“Sorry. I had the music up loud...”
“I know you get in your own world. Turn it down though, yeah? I don’t know if I can handle hearing ‘yackety yak, don’t talk back’ another second.”
“Sorry.” She rushed to the kitchen and turned off the Bluetooth device. Then, with her back still toward him, she attempted to get a grip. “Would you like something to drink?” she called out.
He joined her. “Got a beer in that fridge, by chance?”
“Not a one. You know I don’t drink.”
“I know. Thought maybe you had something every now and then, though.”
“Nope.” She opened the refrigerator. “How about a root beer? It’s cold.”
“Yeah, pour me a cold one, Li.”
She got out two cold bottles and twisted the caps before handing him one. “Want to sit down?”
He took a sip from his bottle. “Sure.” He led the way to her living room. Not that she would have taken him any place else, but it wasn’t lost on Liana that she was following his lead, just like she always had. Even after all this time and everything she’d been through, Liana reckoned there would always be a part of her that would look to him for support or reassurance.
“Okay if I sit here?” he asked, gesturing to the couch.
“Mason, you can sit wherever you’d like. You know that.”
“I thought maybe I ought to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“You know, doing whatever I want—at least where you’re concerned.” He braced his elbows on his knees. “Over the last day or so I’ve been thinking that I’ve done a lot of that.”
“A lot of what?”
“You know. Doing what I thought was best. Expecting you to be okay with it.”
It took everything she had not to pretend she didn’t know what he meant. But he had it wrong, especially since she’d just been thinking the same thing. “Some habits are hard to break, right?” She smiled at him. “I think there will always be a part of me that idolizes you.”
He winced. “I sure hope not.”
“Okay, how about this, then? You’ve always been a good brother, and I’ve been glad about that.”
“Was I? Even back when we both still lived at home? I think that’s giving me a bit more credit than I deserve.”
Boy, they were sure being honest with each other. “Okay, how’s this? You were fine. Probably as good as I was to you. As good as we might have expected, don’t you think?”
A line formed in between his brows. It was obvious he was concentrating on every word she was saying. “Why do you say that, Li?”
“Come on. We didn’t live in a sitcom, Mason. Our parents were fine but it wasn’t like Mom was Carol Brady or Dad was—” she drew a blank “—whatever dad was really great and understanding on television.”
“They did the best they could.”
Those six words had always been their mantra. Her and Mason’s excuse for their parents never completely committing to parenthood.
But over time Liana had learned that their best had been good enough. After all, Billy had taught her that things could’ve been a whole lot worse. “Why are you thinking about them?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because I have Cooper.”
“Cooper’s perfect and you’re a good father, Mason.” She smiled at him. “In spite of everythin
g, we turned out okay, right?”
That had obviously been the wrong thing to say. Mason’s expression darkened. “Now you’re okay.”
“Mason, why are you here?”
His blue eyes, so like hers, looked at her directly. “You know why, Li. Two days ago two cops came to the shop to talk to me.”
“Two of them were there?”
“Officer Olson and his father.” His lips tightened. “Crazy that they’re in the same profession and work together by choice. Weird, right?”
She thought it was weird that Kent’s father had been with Kent, but it wasn’t like he told her much about his days. “You know I’ve spent time with Kent. I told you that.”
“I know.”
“Well, I’ve met his father, too. His name is Richard.”
“What, they do house calls, too?” His joke sounded as brittle as his voice.
“I went to Kent’s parents’ house for dinner one evening.” When Mason looked horrified by the news, she shook her head at him. “Stop. Richard was nice to me. Peggy, I mean, Mrs. Olson, made a really great strawberry shortcake.” All of it had been nice.
“I don’t know what to say about that.” He patted the pocket on his shirt. It was obvious he was looking for his usual pack of cigarettes.
He was stressed.
Maybe it was time to put him out of his misery. “How about you tell me the truth about why you came over here, Mason?” Bracing herself, she brought up what she feared the most. “Are you here to yell at me? Do you hate me now?”
He froze. “For what?”
“You obviously think I told Kent to speak with you. I didn’t.”
Mason stared at her a moment longer before shifting. Hurt had flared in his eyes, making Liana realize that she wasn’t the only one of them who had to overcome a whole lot of past ghosts. “I could never hate you. Never.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her brother shrugged off her apology.
“Li, the cops questioned me. For a while I think they thought I actually killed your loser husband.”
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