Secrets of Redemption Box Set

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Secrets of Redemption Box Set Page 86

by Michele Pariza Wacek


  I stared at him. “That’s impossible.”

  “But it’s not.”

  “I was in no shape to drive anywhere,” I said. “Much less to Gwyn’s apartment, the location of which I still don’t know.”

  Detective Timmons shrugged. “Your car managed to make it there.”

  “It must have been a car that looked like mine,” I said. “Because my car was in the parking lot of The Jack Saloon, and I was inside it passed out, because someone drugged me.”

  “So you say.”

  I leaned forward. “I’m being set up, detective. That’s the only explanation for all of this.”

  “Why would someone set you up? What reason would they have to do such a thing?”

  “I have no idea, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Detective Timmons paused again, tapping his pen on his notebook. “Do you want to know what makes sense to me?”

  I eyed him, but didn’t respond. I had the feeling I didn’t want to hear the answer.

  It didn’t seem to matter, because he kept talking. “I think you were jealous of Gwyn. Maybe you were afraid your boyfriend was going to go back to her. So, you started stalking her. Maybe you were hoping to scare her. Maybe it was just a joke. But then it escalated.” He leaned closer to me, his dark eyes intent. “I don’t think you went over to her apartment last night to hurt her. I think you were just trying to work things out. But then, things got out of control, and one thing led to another and ...” his voice trailed off.

  I was having trouble breathing. “That doesn’t explain Ellen,” I said through numb lips.

  “You knew Ellen and Gwyn were friends. Plus, there seemed to be some bad blood in the past between you and her. Maybe you kidnapped her just to scare Gwyn, but that ended up going wrong, too.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A police detective actually thought I was capable of killing not one but TWO people.

  Daniel was right. I was in deep trouble.

  “I’m done talking,” I said. “I want to leave now.”

  Detective Timmons’ face fell. “If you tell us the truth now, I can put a good word in for you with the DA. Let them know you cooperated. That would go a long way in helping your case.”

  I stood up. My knees were shaking, and I cursed. I didn’t want him to see my weaknesses. “I have to go,” I said, moving toward the door. “I know my rights. I don’t have to stay here if I don’t want to.”

  Both he and the other detective watched me leave. “Don’t wait too long to come clean,” he said. “The longer you wait, the worse it will be for you.”

  It seemed to take forever to cross that tiny interrogation room, but finally, I was at the door.

  All I wanted was to get out of there.

  When I was finally outside in the hot parking lot, I could feel my chest start to loosen.

  I still had no idea what I was going to do, but at least in this moment, I could breathe.

  “Have you hired a lawyer yet?”

  I opened my eyes to see Daniel leaning against his car, arms crossed. He was wearing jeans and a grey Milwaukee Brewer’s tee shirt.

  I took a few steps toward him, but something in the way his body shifted caused me to pause. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

  “I’m taking a few days off,” he said.

  “Because of me?”

  “It seemed prudent,” he said. “All things considered.”

  That was one way to word it. His former fiancé murdered and the new woman he’s dating suspected of killing her. God. Not only was my own life turning into a train wreck, but this mess was starting to bleed over into other people’s lives. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  I shifted from one foot to another. “Did you know I was going to be here?”

  “I figured you’d be here eventually. And Mia told me.”

  “Did Mia also tell you what had happened to me last night? How I’m being framed?”

  He didn’t quite meet my eyes. “She mentioned something.”

  “What do you mean ‘she mentioned something’?”

  He took off his sunglasses and raked his fingers through his hair. “Becca, now is not the time. You didn’t answer me.”

  “Answer you about what?”

  “Did you hire a lawyer?”

  Oh. That. “Not yet,” I said.

  “You should get on it. As soon as possible.”

  I knew he was right. But where on earth was I going to find the money, let alone a lawyer I trusted? After marrying two lawyers and being screwed over by both of them, I wasn’t too excited about hiring another one.

  “Call Jim Johnson,” Daniel said, as if reading my mind. “He’s a good guy. I asked around.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll do that.”

  Daniel looked like he was going to say something more, but he changed his mind. He pushed off against his car to stand upright before opening the driver’s door and adjusting his sunglasses. “Be careful, Becca,” he said.

  “I will,” I said, quickly turning away so he didn’t see the shine of tears that welled up in my eyes. The way he said it, it sounded so ... final. Like a goodbye.

  Well, what did I expect, I asked myself as I headed to my own car. I had been nothing but trouble for him since the moment I moved into Aunt Charlie’s house. Did I really expect him to stick around?

  I opened my door, trying to ignore the blast of hot air that hit me, and slid into the seat. I inserted my keys into the ignition, but I didn’t turn the car on. Instead, I sat there in the sweltering heat, feeling all the pieces of everything that had been happening colliding inside me.

  Someone was framing me, yet no one, even Daniel, even Mia, seemed to believe me.

  Speaking of Mia, had her phone just been an easy target, sitting in an unlocked locker at the diner?

  Or ... was there something else going on?

  I thought about how exhausted and sick she looked lately. How she wasn’t sleeping.

  How she had access to every room in the house.

  Oh God. Was I really going there? Could I actually suspect one of my best friends of trying to frame me for murder?

  What possible reason would she have to do that?

  Suddenly, I realized I desperately needed to talk all of this through with someone.

  I reached for my phone to text Daphne.

  Chapter 23

  “I’m glad you called,” Daphne said as I handed her a glass of wine.

  We were sitting in my backyard, surrounded by a messy, dazzling, riotous sea of colors and the scents of blooming flowers. It should have been a delightful, relaxing oasis, but it wasn’t. All I could think about was how long I had left to enjoy it.

  At first, I was hesitant to meet Daphne here at the house, as I didn’t want Mia or Chrissy walking in on us. But when I texted Chrissy, she informed me they were both working late. I also took the additional step of repositioning our chairs so I would be able to see them, should they come home early.

  “I’m glad I called, too,” I said, realizing how much I had missed having time alone with my friend. Since Mia had moved in, it was always the three of us hanging out, which of course was nice … but it was also nice to just be alone with Daphne.

  “So, what’s going on?” she asked.

  “How much do you know?” I asked glumly.

  She sighed, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “Why don’t you just start from the beginning? Just talk, and then we can sort it out together.”

  So I did. I told her everything—from the first emails to Mia’s strange behavior to the bizarre chain of events from the night before.

  She listened quietly, occasionally sipping her wine. She didn’t interrupt me with questions—she just let me talk.

 
When I was done, I slumped over, as exhausted as if I had just run a marathon. My muscles even ached.

  “Wow,” Daphne said. “I’m not sure where to even start.”

  “How about here—do you believe me?” I kept my head down, staring at my wine. If I heard even a hint of hesitation in her voice, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

  “Of course,” Daphne said immediately (and firmly). Then, she let out a soft chuckle. “Quite honestly, it’s too nutty of a story to not believe. How would you even remember such a story if it wasn’t true?”

  “That’s what I told Detective Timmons,” I said, my mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “He wasn’t amused.”

  “Well, some people don’t have a sense of humor,” she said. “He’s clearly one of them.”

  “So, what do I do, Daphne?” I asked. “Should I hire a lawyer? I don’t have the money to, really. Maybe I should try and figure out what’s going on myself.”

  “You want to solve the case on your own?” she asked. “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “What other option do I have? I don’t want to get caught up in the legal system, and it doesn’t look like Detective Timmons is interested in pursuing anyone other than me right now.”

  Daphne chewed the inside of her mouth thoughtfully. “If you were going to investigate, where would you start?”

  I took a moment to answer, sipping my wine and looking around the backyard. Not a soul around, other than a couple of birds fighting over birdseed.

  I turned back to Daphne and took a deep breath. “I guess ... Mia.”

  Daphne’s face went blank. “Mia? You’d ask Mia to investigate?”

  “No, I would ... I think I would start with her.”

  Daphne’s eyes widened. “You think Mia is capable of this?”

  “No! No, I don’t,” I said quickly.

  “Then what is there to investigate?”

  “I guess ...” I rubbed my eyes. “It’s just, I don’t understand what happened to the text messages.”

  “But, as you pointed out, someone could have snuck into the break room and used her phone.”

  “Yes, but …”

  “But what?”

  “I just …” What was I trying to say? I didn’t really suspect Mia, did I?

  “If you believe someone took her phone,” Daphne continued, “why would you think she had anything to do with this?”

  “Okay, look,” I burst out. “She’s acting strange. Like Chrissy used to. She’s not sleeping. She looks awful. I found her in the middle of the living room one night. And she’s quoting from Mad Martha’s diary.”

  Daphne shook her head. “Slow down. She’s quoting from Mad Martha’s diary?”

  I leaned over the table, almost spilling my wine. “And here’s what really doesn’t make sense. What about my texts after?”

  “After ...”

  “When I was at the bar,” I explained. “I was texting and texting her, and I got no response. She claims she didn’t get them. But she must have. Even if someone had taken her phone, she must have had it back by the time I sent those texts. I sent them hours later.”

  “Well, what if whoever took the phone did something to it, so your texts wouldn’t show up?” Daphne asked. “Maybe they blocked you or something. Did you test that theory?”

  I slumped back, a little taken aback. “I ... uh, I guess I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Test it. The next time Mia is home, tell her what you told me, and see if she’s up to testing her phone. Then, send her a text while you’re both sitting together. That would clear one part of this up, at least.”

  “Oh.” It was such a simple idea. I felt a little foolish for not having thought of it myself.

  Daphne’s eyes narrowed as she considered me. “Do you honestly believe Mia could be behind this? She’s been one of your staunchest defenders.”

  I thought about Mia and everything she had done for me since moving back. Daphne was right. How could I possibly suspect her of anything?

  Unless … she was behind it, but it wasn’t her fault.

  “No,” I said. “Not consciously anyway.”

  “Consciously?”

  I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “What if something else is going on? What if Mia doesn’t even realize her own involvement?”

  “Wait. Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

  “This house ... you know it has a way of getting into people’s heads,” I said.

  Daphne’s face flitted through a variety of expressions. “I don’t ... hold on. Does this have anything to do with her quoting from Mad Martha’s diary?”

  “The house is whispering to me again.”

  “What?”

  “That was the line from Mad Martha’s diary,” I explained. “Mia said something close to that one morning, so I went looking for the diary to check. But, instead, I found the burner cell phone the stalker had been using to call Gwyn.” I made a face as I thought about the phone.

  “Well, clearly she read the diary at some point,” Daphne said.

  “Maybe,” I said doubtfully. “But I don’t think so. And I don’t remember showing it to her.”

  “That doesn’t mean she didn’t stumble upon it on her own,” Daphne said.

  “Yeah, but. It just doesn’t feel right. It feels ...” I drifted off, worried I might be approaching crazy-land territory again.

  Daphne raised her glass to her lips, her eyes never leaving mine. “Feels like what?”

  “Like it’s all happening again,” I said. “Mad Martha. Nellie. Chrissy. CB. What did they all have in common?”

  “What?”

  “The room!”

  Daphne blinked. “The room? The bedroom?”

  “Yes. The one at the top of the stairs. It’s the same room Mad Martha killed Nellie and herself in. It’s the same room CB slept in when we were growing up, and look what happened to him. It’s the same room Chrissy was sleeping in when she started sleepwalking.”

  Daphne looked skeptical. “You think the room is behind all of this?”

  Hearing Daphne say it out loud made me realize how ridiculous it sounded. I slumped over. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is I’m being set up, and I don’t know why.”

  Daphne played with her wine glass. “You know, there’s someone else you haven’t considered yet, in all of this.”

  Someone else? A quick ray of hope surged through me, and I straightened up. “Who?”

  “Chrissy.”

  As quickly as the hope arrived, it departed, leaving me deflated. “Chrissy isn’t behind this.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know.”

  “Just like you knew before?”

  I looked away. Daphne bit her lip. “Sorry. That was a cheap shot.”

  “Chrissy wasn’t acting right then,” I said. “And you’re right. I should have known.”

  “That’s not why I brought it up. But, to me, it makes more sense to look closely at someone who has a track record for gaslighting versus someone who has always had your back.”

  “That’s exactly why I don’t think it’s Mia’s fault, if she is involved,” I said. “Something else is going on. As for Chrissy, she’s happier and more well-adjusted than I’ve ever seen her. She’s not acting like someone who has something to hide.”

  Daphne looked like she was going to argue, but then thought better of it. “Keep an eye on her is all I’m saying,” she finally said. “As you pointed out, you don’t know who is behind all of this, or who you can trust. It’s best to be wary of everyone, I think.”

  “Even you?”

  She laughed. “Especially me.”

  I smiled too, wishing I could laugh, but her words cut close to the bone. I didn’t know who I c
ould trust. How was I ever going to get myself out of this?

  “So, what do you think?” I asked, twirling my wine glass on the table.

  “About what?”

  “This whole situation. Now that you’ve heard it, do you have any theories?”

  Daphne paused and leaned back in her chair. She sipped her wine slowly as she gazed across the backyard. “In so many ways, Louise makes the most sense,” she finally said. “I don’t ... well, I guess I could see her coming up with this silly plan to stalk Gwyn as a way to get rid of you. She’s been consumed by hate and revenge for years now, ever since Jesse really. Being stuck in those emotions for so long would mess anyone up. But, she’s no killer. So, I think we’re back to square one.”

  “Maybe you can help me understand something,” I said. “I thought you told me that Jesse and Louise had had a fight, and Jesse disappeared shortly after. How was that my aunt’s fault?”

  Daphne sighed heavily. “Your aunt was having an affair with his best friend.”

  I blinked. “What?” This was the first time I had ever heard any mention of my aunt having a relationship at all, much less an affair.

  Daphne looked at me sympathetically. “Yeah, not the best news to hear about a loved one, I know. But Charlie was human, too.”

  I pressed my fingers against my temples. “That’s not ... well, yeah, it’s a bit of a shock, because I guess I never thought of her as ... a woman. But what does that have to do with Jesse’s disappearance?”

  “That’s a good question,” Daphne said. “I don’t know if I completely understand either.”

  She paused, as if formulating her thoughts. “Jesse and Jonathan were best friends since they were kids. They grew up here, but they couldn’t have been more different. Jesse was open and friendly. Everyone loved him. Jonathan was quiet and shy. I’ve even heard him described as ‘brooding.’ No one knew why they were such good friends, but they were.

  “I guess Jesse had always wanted to leave Redemption. He talked about it constantly. He wanted to be an actor.” Daphne shot me a meaningful look. “Sound like anyone else we knew?”

  I nodded. Jessica had wanted to leave to become a model.

 

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