Death is in the Details

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Death is in the Details Page 13

by Heather Sunseri


  “What are you doing here?”

  At the sound of Luke’s voice, I spun around and sucked in an audible gasp. “I… I was looking for you.”

  “Then maybe try answering your phone. I called you three times this morning, and I just got back from driving over to your place. The roads are getting bad out there.”

  “The roads are getting bad?” I repeated. “That’s what you want to say to me?”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “You didn’t know what, Luke? That you were going to include me on your wall of arson and murder suspects when you slept with me?”

  “No. I didn’t know they were going to announce the reopening of your mother’s murder case this morning.”

  “But you did know they were reopening it? Yet you said nothing about it last night.” I started across the room. “I have to go. This was a mistake.”

  Luke stretched an arm across my chest to block me from passing. His fingers wrapped around my upper arm.

  I jerked backwards. “Don’t touch me.” Heat spread up my spine and onto my cheeks. I broke out into a cold sweat.

  Luke let go of me, but stepped in front of me to keep me from leaving. “Give me ten minutes to explain.”

  I let my eyes lift to meet his determined gaze. There was a mixture of confidence, concern, and fear in his eyes, shadowed by furrowed brows.

  “You don’t deserve the opportunity to explain,” I said. “And I will not risk incriminating myself in your hunt for a serial killer.” Tears stung my eyes at the realization that I had slept with a man who thought I was capable of such horrific crimes. “Let me pass, Luke, or you’ll be hauling me to the police station for assaulting you.”

  “Faith…”

  My face hardened further.

  He stepped aside, and I rushed past him.

  “At least let me give you a ride,” he said from behind me. “The roads have gotten slick, and you’re upset.”

  I didn’t acknowledge his concern. And I didn’t stop until I was outside, behind the steering wheel, and away from Luke Justice.

  Aunt Leah made me a mug of tea—chamomile, to relax me. I wanted bourbon, but she hated how much I drank.

  “Now tell me what’s got you so worked up,” she said as she set the steaming mug and a container of fresh local honey in front of me.

  I grabbed the plastic bear bottle and squeezed a stream of honey into the tea. “What if everyone was wrong about Ethan, Aunt Leah? What if he didn’t do it?”

  “Faith—what are you talking about? Ethan deserved his sentence. And to be honest, I’m truly sorry they let him out.”

  “But how can you be so convinced? He loved his father, and Mom was more of a mother to him than his own mother had ever been.”

  “The investigation was thorough. The empty gas cans were discovered in his car. He would have disposed of them had he not stopped to pull you out of the fire. And thank God for that. That was the only thing he did that kept me from wishing for the death penalty.”

  “But… empty gas cans? That’s it? There were no fingerprints on those gas cans. And they didn’t find gloves at the scene.” I sounded like a better defense attorney than the one Ethan had at his trial.

  “Faith, what’s gotten into you? You know all the facts as well as I do. You know he killed your mom.”

  The front door slammed, and Uncle Henry appeared at the door to the kitchen. “I guess you’ve both heard,” he said as a greeting.

  “I heard you arguing with Chief Reid,” I said, turning back around in my seat. I lifted the tea to my lips and blew on it before taking a sip.

  “I’ve got a call in to my contact at the Bureau,” Uncle Henry said. “I plan to send that sorry-ass excuse for an FBI agent packing as quickly as possible.”

  He was clearly beyond angry. His face was red as if overheated, and he seemed to be breathing heavier than usual.

  It had been a long time since I’d heard Uncle Henry swear.

  Did I tell my aunt and uncle that the “sorry-ass excuse for an FBI agent” had me at the top of his evidence board?

  “Now, Henry,” Aunt Leah said, placing a hand on his cheek as if she were taking his temperature. “Don’t go giving yourself a heart attack.”

  The front door slammed again, and two seconds later, Finch entered the kitchen. “Want to tell me how the FBI got the authority to reopen Mom’s case? This wasn’t a federal investigation. Why would it be considered one now?”

  “I’m working on it,” Uncle Henry said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Took a long lunch. Aubrey was having some chest pain and a little difficulty breathing when I checked on her earlier.”

  “What?” Aunt Leah said.

  “It’s okay, I got her to the doctor, and he said she was just having a panic attack. She says she got herself worked up over something she read in one of those parenting books, but if you ask me, this case being reopened is what stressed her out. Anyway,” he waved a hand, “she’s under strict orders to stay in bed for a few days and relax.”

  “It sounds serious,” I said. “Want me to go over there?”

  “I’m sure she’d love to see you. She’s sleeping now, but maybe later.”

  “Well, sit down,” Aunt Leah said. “I’ll whip us all up some soup and sandwiches. And I’ll send some home with you for Aubrey.”

  Uncle Henry leaned in and kissed his wife on the cheek. “I’m going to go make a phone call. Call me when lunch is ready.”

  Finch pulled out a chair and sat across from me. “So, is this your friend’s doing?”

  “My friend?” I asked.

  “Word on the street is you’ve gotten all chummy with that fed.”

  “Chummy?”

  “Aunt Leah, is there an echo in here?”

  Aunt Leah waved a hand. “I just think Faith is stalling because she doesn’t like the tone of your interrogation. And honestly, neither do I.”

  “Let me put it another way,” Finch said. “What’s going on with you and Special Agent Justice?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just been photographing the crime scenes—in other words, my job.” I didn’t dare mention that my photograph was up on Luke’s evidence wall—and I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that his picture was there, too. That would get him worked up over nothing; he wasn’t even in Paynes Creek the night of the fire.

  “Have you seen Ethan again?” Finch asked.

  Aunt Leah spun around, shock and worry on her face. “You saw Ethan? When?”

  I narrowed my eyes at Finch. “Thanks a lot.”

  He shrugged. “I assumed you’d told them.”

  Aunt Leah stopped what she was doing and faced me. “When and where did you see Ethan? Is that why you came over? Did he hurt you?”

  “No. I happened into the Spotted Cat. Apparently he’s working there.” I left out the part about last night’s little visit.

  “You just happened into a Lexington dive bar where Ethan just happened to work?” Finch said.

  Uncle Henry walked back into the kitchen. “He’s not just working there,” he said. “He owns it.”

  “Owns it?” I said. “How did he manage to buy a bar? He just got out of prison three weeks ago.”

  Uncle Henry shrugged. “He used his inheritance.”

  “What inheritance?” I asked.

  Finch gave him a hard look. “Uncle Henry, you didn’t.”

  “Someone please explain what the hell is going on here.”

  Uncle Henry walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. “I received a call from our bank president two weeks ago. He told me that Ethan had come in wanting to use his share of your parents’ land as collateral to purchase a piece of property.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “He wanted to use the land I live on as collateral for a loan, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “I’m telling you now. Ethan needed the money and he still has a right to one third of that land. I spoke to an attorney. He suggested that if the two of you d
idn’t want to be forced to sell the land, that you would need to buy Ethan out.”

  Crap. “I don’t have that kind of money,” I said. “I guess I could get a loan. Take money out of my retirement.”

  Uncle Henry lifted a gentle hand. “I bought out Ethan.”

  “Oh, Uncle Henry,” Finch said. “I’ll pay you back. And we can—”

  “No. It’s been done. My attorney is drawing up the paperwork for me to gift that third of the land to the two of you, along with an agreement that Faith can live on the land for as long as she wishes.”

  Finch nodded. “Of course she can.”

  I stood and threw my arms around Uncle Henry. “I don’t know what to say, except thank you.”

  “You don’t even need to say that. You two are our family.” He pulled his wife closer and put an arm around her. She smiled at both of us. “We are both so very proud of you.”

  While I was thankful for how that had worked out, I was curious as to why Ethan would give up ties to the land he grew up on—ties to me.

  But then I remembered what he did to me, and I asked myself: Had he not gone to prison for murder, would I have been able to send him to prison for assaulting me?

  “I’m not feeling well,” I said. “The weather is supposed to get worse. I think I better get home before I get stuck in town.”

  “Oh, honey. Why don’t you stay here? Your room has fresh sheets. I don’t want to worry about you.”

  I gave Aunt Leah a hug, then Uncle Henry. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Finch said, getting up from the table.

  When we reached the front door, Finch grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. “You okay with what Uncle Henry did?”

  “Of course. Are you? You’re entitled to request rent from me, you know.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He pulled me in for a quick hug and released me.

  “Tell Aubrey I’ll call her later.”

  Twenty-Two

  The sleet and freezing rain switched over to snow in the early afternoon. School let out early, and businesses were letting employees go home. The local weather people promised a nasty evening commute. But this was Kentucky; this type of weather never stuck around long, and it was rarely as bad as predicted.

  There was one news van sitting outside the police station as I passed. The others had gone back to Lexington, or moved on to cover the road conditions. They’d be back, though. Hard to keep pesky flies off cow patties.

  When I turned the corner past the police station, I spotted two teenage girls headed toward the park: Bella Reynolds and Alexandra Sims. Sadly, Sadie Porter was missing from the Three Musketeers, as they were known. On a whim, I decided to see what I could learn from them.

  I circled around and parked in the lot between the library and the park, close to where Ethan and I used to park after school. Thankfully, I had boots in my vehicle; photographing crime scenes, especially fires, could be hell on a nice pair of shoes. I slipped them on, got out, and walked into the park.

  The girls were sitting on the swings, facing away from me. Alexandra pulled something from her pocket, put a lighter to one end, and took a drag. A joint? No—a bong.

  Putting my phone to my ear and acting like I was involved in conversation, I walked around into their field of view, though not too close. I knew the moment they spotted me. Bella was taking a hit when Alexandra motioned for her to stop.

  “Put it away,” I heard her whisper.

  I had an idea on how to get closer.

  “I don’t care, asshole!” I screamed into the phone. “We are through. Finished. Get your shit and get out of my house… No, I won’t give you another chance.” I walked toward the girls, still pretending not to notice them. “And if you don’t leave the money you owe me on the kitchen table, I’m sending my attorney after you… Go ahead, call the chief. I don’t work for the Paynes Creek PD. I’m my own boss.”

  I was no more than ten yards from them when I looked down at my phone. “That piece of shit hung up on me,” I muttered, talking to myself. I lifted my head, and recoiled slightly when I saw Bella and Alexandra swinging. “Oh. Sorry. I was so caught up in my own bullshit, I didn’t even see you two.”

  I turned and started to walk away. I would have to come up with a Plan B if this didn’t work, but I was hoping—

  “You look like you could use a hit,” Bella called.

  “Bella…” Alexandra warned.

  “Oh, I think she’s cool with it. Aren’t you, Faith?” Bella held out the bong.

  “Is that a flute?” I asked. I was impressed that they’d crafted a bong from a musical instrument.

  “Yeah.” Bella shrugged. “I also made one out of pieces of a trumpet. My mom thought they were projects for my art class. But that one was destroyed in the fire.”

  I took the makeshift bong and a lighter from her. “Very clever.” I lifted the bong to my mouth and took a hit.

  Bella pulled a bottle from her bag. “Peppermint schnapps,” she said when I lifted a brow. “I thought it appropriate on the first real snow day. It’s going to go well with a hot chocolate when I get home, but for now…” She shrugged, unscrewed the top, and took a large drink.

  If I got caught smoking marijuana and drinking alcohol with a couple of high school kids, a reopened murder investigation would be the least of my worries. I handed the flute-bong back to Bella. “Sorry about your parents.” I looked to Alexandra, who was now taking a gulp of the schnapps. “And your friend.”

  “Thanks,” Alexandra said. “Do they know who’s setting these fires?”

  I looked up toward the police station. “No, unfortunately. But I know they’re doing everything they can to find out.”

  “You know what we’re going through, don’t you?” Bella said. For a girl who’d just lost both of her parents and one of her best friends, she didn’t sound as sad as I would have expected. Maybe she was hiding her sorrow in alcohol and drugs. I did that for a time. It didn’t work.

  “I think everyone handles grief and loss differently,” I said. “But I know what I went through. It sucked.” Those were the most honest two words I could have said.

  Both girls nodded.

  Bella laughed and nudged her friend. “But this weed sure is some good shit, right?”

  Alexandra flashed her a look somewhere between despair and confusion, but then her lips slid into an easy grin. “Yeah.” She followed it with a giggle. The effects of the pot and alcohol were taking over. By the looks of the half-empty bottle, this wasn’t their first drink of the day.

  “This is some good stuff,” I agreed. “Where did you get it?”

  Both girls stiffened. Had I not been watching for it, I would have missed it.

  “I’m asking for a friend.” I smiled, hoping they would think I wanted my own supply sometime. Even though I’d given up marijuana long ago.

  “Just a kid from school,” Bella said.

  “Yeah,” Alexandra scoffed. “A big kid.” She rolled her eyes.

  Bella shot Alexandra a hard stare.

  “What?” Alexandra said. “We don’t owe him anything. It’s not like Matt delivered on any of his promises yet.”

  Matt? As in Matthew Lake? “Are you telling me Mr. Lake scored you this weed?” I shook my head. “Man, times sure have changed. What I would have given to have had cool teachers like Mr. Lake.”

  “Yeah, he’s cool,” Bella said. She was studying me, wondering if she could trust me. I could almost see her body go from head-to-toe tension to muscle-by-muscle relaxation. “Did you screw your stepbrother?” she blurted out.

  “Bella!” Alexandra said.

  I took the bong from Bella and took another hit. It really was some good marijuana. “Did you screw your teacher?” I fired back.

  A smile spread across Bella’s face. “Yes, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. I’m eighteen as of yesterday, and he’s no longer a teacher. He’s getting me an auditio
n at Juilliard. Alexandra, too.”

  I raised both brows. “Really? Has either of these auditions been scheduled?”

  “Not yet, but he went there, and he knows people in admissions.”

  “Congratulations,” I said, but I no more believed that Matthew Lake would get Bella and Alexandra an audition at Juilliard than I believed my stepbrother’s recent transaction with Henry meant he was planning to disappear from my life. Nothing was that easy.

  “So, did you?” Bella asked. “Did you have sex with Ethan Gentry before he went all psycho?”

  When I didn’t answer, Alexandra stopped swinging. “You did, didn’t you?” She slid a sly glance toward her friend, letting her know she was sorry she had doubted her.

  “It’s not like they’re related,” Bella said. “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

  “Well I do,” Alexandra said. “It’s practically incest.”

  “It is not.” Bella laughed while kicking her feet out and swinging higher.

  “If you think sex between two step-siblings is inappropriate,” I said to Alexandra, “then what do you think of sex between a minor and a person of authority?”

  They both giggled, clearly buzzed. “I never had sex with Matthew,” Alexandra answered.

  Bella laughed. “No, but you did send him the photos he wanted…”

  Now we were getting somewhere. Bella and Alexandra were in deep with this Matthew Lake, who was obviously the predator the town thought he was. It was sad, when I thought about it, that no one seemed to be protecting these girls.

  Alexandra shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get out of a shithole town like Paynes Creek.”

  “Bella,” I said, “I know this has been hard on you, but I’m curious about something… How long did your parents know about your relationship with Mr. Lake before they reported it?”

  She slowed her swinging. “You know… I loved my parents, but they were so hypocritical. They knew Matthew and I were growing closer. They didn’t have a problem until Matthew and I had our first fight.”

  “What was the fight about?” I asked.

  “I was pissed off because I found photos of Sadie and Alexandra on his phone.”

 

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