Melanie would hear Marbury’s gun go off and realize her dreams were over.
Hallie would only remember was that it was all her fault. Again.
Chapter Forty
The police had a field day with a hysterical Melanie and her non-stop talking daughter. Hallie was arrested but released into Melanie’s custody the next morning. Court ordered psychological evaluations would be considered in determining the outcome of the charges. Whitney held steadfast in her claim of killing Felicia. She agreed with Grace’s proposal of a temporary insanity plea until she learned she’d also have to have a psychological evaluation.
Lily served a one-night sentence in Easton Memorial Hospital. The bullet had gone through her thigh, miraculously doing little damage, but resulting in an impressive bandage and a month’s paid leave from an apoplectic Mosley.
Grace met Jake Briard over Lily’s hospital bed. The strain of being polite to her showed plainly on his face. She was making an awkward apology to Lily when they were interrupted by the delivery of a massive bouquet of roses.
Lily read the card out loud — Whitney and Melanie were grateful and sorry and keeping Lily in their thoughts and prayers.
“Those two should save their money,” Lily said and sent the flowers out to the nurses’ station.
“No roses for marines?” Grace asked, but her attempt to get a smile from Lily fell as flat like every other thing else she’d said. A reference to Lily’s military career usually went over well, but all she got in response was a curt ‘I don’t want anything from them’.
It was easy to leave after that.
Getting Melanie, Hallie, and the children home took the combined efforts of Grace, Mosley, and Avril, who morphed into a grandmotherly person no one recognized as she entertained kids and organized meals.
When Grace and Mosley met with Melanie and Hallie on Tuesday morning, they were all tired, and the Overtons were in varying degrees of denial. Melanie insisted that although Felicia had viciously attacked Hallie, they had nothing to do with her death. Hallie ignored her mother and repeated her confession.
Grace read Whitney’s statement out loud to the group. It was short, with just her admission to smothering Felicia. Melanie nodded and said, “Yes. That’s what we agreed on.”
Hallie immediately contradicted her.
“Can we leave?” Mosley asked Grace. “We can’t keep them out of jail forever, and this is hard on my nerves.”
Mother and daughter fell silent.
“All right. I’m asking one more time,” Mosley said, his voice weak with exhaustion. “Hallie, from the beginning.”
“But, I — ” Melanie started.
“No,” Mosley said, but this time his quivery, old man voice filled the room. “Hallie. From the beginning, the truth, please.”
“Thank you,” Hallie said. “I did it.”
The morning ended as it had begun, with three clients, two confessions, one tearful Melanie, and no progress at all.
It was almost noon when Grace returned to a quiet Delaney House. Niki’s car was gone. They hadn’t talked much, but Niki knew all about the shooting by the time Grace had gotten home the night before. Her only question had been, “Are you okay?” and Grace loved her for it.
Louise greeted her when she opened the front door.
“Is this where you guys have been stashed?” she said as she rubbed the shepherd’s ears. “Where’s your BFF?”
The scrabbling sounds of toenails on old wood floors heralded the arrival of Leo, who assessed Grace’s state and wisely decided his mistress didn’t look capable of catching him mid-air. Both dogs accepted her hugs and kisses and followed her to the big kitchen at the back of the house.
The dogs got kibble, and she ate an egg, toast, and hot tea. All of it not only stayed down but felt good as her body absorbed the food. She lingered over the last of the tea and let her mind drift over the memories of yesterday’s events.
The doctor’s sympathetic words. Possible, but not likely.
Hallie’s tears as she begged for reassurance that her father was alive.
Marbury’s hand moving under her jacket.
Hallie running, crying, I did it! I did it!
Lily coming from nowhere, the gun’s roar, the screams.
And Mac kneeling beside her on the floor, cradling her to his chest. Grace had been more stunned by his embrace than by the fall.
She placed a hand over the hollow of her belly. Everything was still okay.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll be more careful. I promise.”
Concern for the baby sat like a cold weight in her heart, something she couldn’t push away, yet nothing she could fix. Only time and nature could determine the biggest issue of her life, and no amount of planning, or arguing, or research or tears would change it. She would be careful and hope for the best. But for now, lunch was over, and she had to go back to work.
She drove to the office, keeping her mind firmly on the work ahead of her and away from emotional ramblings.
Mosley met her in the kitchen. After asking if she’d eaten and suggesting she have a glass of milk instead of a cup of tea, he invited her to join him in his office. They had to prepare for a four o’clock appointment with Whitney.
Mosley said, “I had a call from Avril a few minutes ago. Hallie was with her and wants to meet with us alone. Avril is coming in with her.”
Grace frowned. “What happened after Hallie and Melanie left this morning?”
“Apparently, a lot.”
“What do you think, Cyrus? They look guilty — all of them, frankly.”
Mosley said, “Yes, they do, and I think that’s because they all are. Of what, I don’t know, but each of them is hiding something.”
Chapter Forty-One
“I’m old enough to do what I want,” Hallie said. “And I don’t want to stay in the house with my mother. Miss Avril says I need to make sure you’ll still represent me if I move out.”
“You’re sixteen years and nine months old,” Avril said. “You cannot do what you want. Your mother gave permission for you to spend some time with me, and for us to come here.”
Hallie looked mutinous but didn’t argue.
“And,” Avril continued, “what I said was, you should ask about leaving your mother’s household. You don’t want to make your situation with the police worse than it already is.”
“Whatever,” Hallie said. Then, after a glance at Avril, she blushed and said, “Sorry. I appreciate your help.”
Grace thought the girl looked like Melanie, talked like Whitney, and had flashes of her father’s reported charm.
“It’s not only that I want to move out,” Hallie said. “I’ll get there, eventually. Right now, I need a break and some rest. But I also need help with the insurance company. Our big problem is money. I’ve been reading a lot online, and I’m worried that the policy on Felicia won’t pay out. Since Whitney and I confessed, I mean. We’ll have to pay a lawyer,” Grace and Mosley got a hopeful smile, “and that will eat up a lot of the money we get. Mom says Dad’s insurance might not pay on him, either, at least, not right away, and once we’ve paid you, we won’t have much to live on.”
“I’ve told her not to worry about that,” Avril said. “You’ll wait to get paid, right, Cy?”
Mosley looked nonplussed. “Well, I — ”
“Because,” Avril cut him off, “if you bring the insurance company to heel and take a percentage of the payout on the policies, you’ll be fully compensated, and the Overtons will get their money and can move on.”
“And if the insurance is void on both individuals?” Mosley asked.
“Are you saying you can’t win?” Her lower jaw jutted out. Avril was in full bulldog mode.
Mosley had been sparring with her for half a century, and he wasn’t cowed. “Hallie and her aunt have both confessed to murdering one of the insureds, and the family may have been the last people to see to the other one. Perry Mason couldn’t get those
policies to pay out.”
“I’m not asking him to,” she snapped. “You’ll do it, won’t you, Grace?”
“Mr. Mosley’s been good to us.” It was Hallie’s quiet voice that ended the argument. “None of this is anyone’s fault but ours. Mine, really. If I’d done what I was supposed to even half the time, we wouldn’t be in trouble, and Dad would be here.”
Grace and Mosley looked at each other. Neither had to look at Avril to know what she was thinking.
“Why don’t you tell us what you mean?” Mosley asked with the air of a man who’d just capitulated.
“That’s better,” Avril said. “I’ll wait out in reception and catch up with Marjorie.” She stood, stretching herself to her full four feet, eleven inches while giving each of them the stink-eye. “You have a good attorney, Hallie. You can trust her. And him, too.”
“No,” Hallie protested. “I want you to stay with me.”
Avril patted her shoulder and stepped away. “You want to be an adult; this is what it means. You’re responsible for yourself and your decisions. Tell them everything, young lady.”
Hallie nodded but said nothing more as Avril left.
“I can call your mother,” Mosley offered.
“No.” Hallie said, looking troubled. “Why is it that when you get what you want, it’s never what you expected it to be?”
“The law of life,” Mosley said. “Now, tell me why you wanted to meet without your mother.”
“Well, for starters, I’d like to talk without being interrupted.”
Mosley’s bark of laughter brought a genuine smile from Hallie and reminded Grace of what a charmer the old lawyer could be. The man who wanted no part of the Overtons now seemed on board for the whole ride.
“I have one rule,” Mosley said. “No lies. If you lie to me, about anything at all, I’ll not represent you nor any member of your family, and neither will Ms. Reagan. Do you agree with my terms, Miss Overton?”
Grace knew she shouldn’t be surprised that Hallie actually had to think about her answer, but when she agreed, it was with a firm voice.
“Start talking, m’dear,” Mosley said.
“You’re going to think I’m terrible.”
“No, I won’t,” Mosley said. “No matter what you’ve done.”
Grace felt a rush of affection for Mosley as she watched Hallie settle down.
“When he left us here, Dad told me to help Aunt Whitney and take care of Mom. He said when everything was underway, he’d let me go to college. I tried, I did, but it was so hard without him. When Dad’s around, everything’s safe. We have rules, and everyone knows what to do. It’s different being here without him.”
Hallie sat very straight with her hands clenched. The blush spreading over her cheeks said she’d come to the point of her story.
“I’d never had a boyfriend, and Sawyer was around a lot after we moved up here, and — well, Mom caught us fooling around and called Dad. He was mad, and he yelled at me for a long time. I felt so bad, and I promised no more Sawyer and no more cigarettes. I didn’t tell them about the marijuana, not even when I found out Sawyer was adding cocaine to the ones he sold. If I had, Dad might have come back, but he was already so mad at me. I was mad at him, too, because he wanted to be with Felicia, and he left us.” Her chin came up, and some of her earlier defiance returned.
“What happened to your friendship with Sawyer?” Mosley asked.
Hallie dropped her head again. “His stash burned in the garage. He told me I had to find a way to pay him for it because I’d started the fire with my cigarette.”
“When did Sawyer threaten you?”
“He didn’t. He was right. I mean, I was careless with my cigarette. I owed him for his loss, but I didn’t have any way to get that much money. I couldn’t believe how mad he got.”
“When?” Mosley asked again.
“Tuesday after the fire, when he came to the hotel. We met up in the lobby after he got away from Mom and Aunt Whitney. That’s when he said the drugs had burned up.”
“And since then? Did he ask you for money again?”
“Not directly. I told Mom everything on Wednesday morning, and I haven’t seen Sawyer since. He left me a message on my phone, reminding me to pay up, but that was it, and he hasn’t been around.”
“Can you play it for us?” Mosley asked.
“No. I lost my phone. I swear I did,” Hallie said. “I’d play it for you if I had it, but I lost it sometime after we left the hotel after the fire. That message from Sawyer was the last text I remember.” She pulled a phone out of her pocket. “See, this one is Mom’s. She’s always losing hers, so I took it, in case Dad called.” Her voice broke again. “I guess I can give it back now.”
Grace said, “Hallie, tell us about Felicia. All of it.”
“You mean why I did it? Friday and Saturday morning were horrible. Sometimes I think I remember all of it just as it happened, and sometimes I think I dreamed it all.”
“Tell us what you know for sure,” Mosley said.
“I smothered Felicia.”
By now, an Overton confessing to murder didn’t have much effect. Mosley asked her how she’d done it.
“How? With a pillow?”
“Is that what you used? A pillow?”
Hallie’s eyes widened. “You don’t believe me?”
“Are you telling the truth?”
“I said I would.”
Mosley seemed to weigh this and then nodded. “How did you do it?”
Still indignant, Hallie said, “With a pillow.”
“All right. What time was it?”
Hallie answered without hesitation. “Three-fifteen Sunday morning. I passed the hall clock on the way to my room. That’s where she was, you know, my room.”
“Don’t wander with your answers,” Mosley said. “Answer what I ask you.”
Hallie turned to Grace, who shrugged. It was the Mosley Show, and she was just the sidekick.
Mosley said, “Did you knock before you entered the room where she was sleeping?”
“Did I — ” Hallie cut herself off and finished with a shake of her head.
“Was the door locked?”
“Yes.”
“How’d you get in?”
“It’s a push-button lock.”
Mosley raised a bushy eyebrow.
“I used a bobby pin.”
Grace wondered if Hallie and Whitney had rehearsed these answers.
Mosley said, “Did Felicia wake up when you went in?”
“No.”
“But you’re sure she was alive then?”
“She snored.”
“Why did you go into the room?”
Grace thought it was Mosley who was wandering and was surprised when Hallie remained silent.
“Answer me, please,” Mosley said.
“You said not to lie, and I don’t want to tell the truth.”
“I have a golf match in an hour. Tell the truth or call your mother and face whatever comes. Your choice, Miss Overton.”
“No! Don’t leave me.”
“My terms, Miss Overton,” Mosley said. “Your choice, but my terms.”
“Felicia threw her shirt away,” Hallie said abruptly.
“So?”
“She was wearing it when she hit me in the stomach. I bit my lip, hard, and it bled a lot, and I threw up. She was shaking me when I urped and she got messed up, too, and she threw her shirt away. I know it sounds stupid and gross, but I wanted the clothes she’d just bought to be ruined. I took the shirt from the garbage and sneaked into my room. Her new jeans were on the floor, and I wrapped them up with the shirt, scrunched them together, and threw it all in the closet.”
“Go on,” Mosley said.
“When I turned around to leave, I saw her lying there. All I could think of was that she was sleeping when I couldn’t. When Dad might be dead.”
“I went to the bed and picked up the pillow. It… it must have been horrible, bu
t I don’t remember. I swear I don’t. Mom said she had to take the pillow out of my hands and take me to bed.”
Mosley said nothing but nodded at Grace.
“Was Whitney with your Mom while this was going on?” Grace asked.
“No.” Hallie looked confused. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Grace could see the girl was becoming more agitated as she tried to remember smothering Felicia. She said, “What were your mother and aunt doing before you went into your room?”
“I heard them talking downstairs.”
“How long did you listen to them?”
Hallie blinked and started to protest, but stopped when Mosley cleared his throat.
“I have to eavesdrop sometimes. I work as hard as the adults, but if there’s a big decision to be made, I’m sent away with the kids.”
“How long?” Grace repeated.
“Maybe an hour.”
“What were they talking about?”
“Money. What we were going to do since they couldn’t work with Felicia. Mom said it was a shame Felicia couldn’t just die in her sleep.”
Mosley walked Avril and Hallie out, saying he thought a nap sounded like an excellent plan for all of them. Grace said she was fine, but as soon as the door shut behind him, she yawned. Telling herself it was just for a minute, she stretched out on the sofa in her office and fell asleep.
For an hour, everything seemed possible.
Chapter Forty-Two
“You need to keep up with the evidence and change your thinking accordingly,” McNamara said. He’d just given Banks a summary of the medical examiner’s findings on Heath Overton.
“Well, you have to admit it’s a surprise,” Banks said. “I thought the nutter’d come to his senses and run off. Death by dumpster didn’t even occur to me. Any idea on how it came about or is that why you’re off to Baltimore?” He’d walked McNamara out to the parking lot, hoping for an invitation to tag along. Anything, even a garbage related death investigation, was better than the usual Tuesday morning routine.
Bad Intent Page 20