Kaylee nodded. While it was a relief to hear that, she was actually a little disappointed. Her quest to bring Frank to justice had actually provided her with a distraction from dwelling on everything else in her life, like how she didn’t want to be here and how she screwed things up with Eric.
But now that it was over with, she felt like she was right back where she started when she first moved here to Sunny Vista—a shell of her former self with no one who could understood what she was going through.
At least she helped the police arrest a murderer, preventing him from ever hurting anyone again. That mattered. She was sure that Chelsea would be proud of her for it, and knowing that was enough to make her proud of herself as well.
Although a little credit from her mom didn’t seem like too much to ask for. Unfortunately, it looked like she was too busy flirting with the detective like she were still a school girl rather than a divorced woman in her early forties with a teenage daughter.
At least Mia acknowledged the fact that she did something important. That was what friends should do after all.
Friends . . .
Was she a friend?
Kaylee hadn’t really thought about it. Making new friends was anything but a priority since losing Chelsea and moving over a thousand miles away from every other friend she’d ever known.
Even so, Mia had made an effort to try and be a friend to her, while Kaylee just pushed her away. And yet somehow Mia didn’t seem to be discouraged. It was like she knew that Kaylee would eventually cave if only she was persistent enough.
But would she cave?
She wasn’t sure.
All she knew for sure right now was that suddenly having a friend in her life—even one not named Chelsea—didn’t sound so awful.
Ferguson got to his feet. “Well, I should really be going.”
“So soon?” The disappointment in her mom’s voice was easy to pick up on.
“Yeah. I’ve still got work to do back at the station. Reports to fill out. You know, the fun stuff.” He handed the mug back to her mom. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Of course. Thank you for stopping by and letting us know what happened.”
“Just doing my job.” Ferguson turned to Kaylee. “And thanks again for your help.”
“Oh, don’t mention it.” Kaylee shrugged. “It was no big deal.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Your statement really made a huge difference.”
“I’m just glad you arrested him. That’s all.”
Ferguson nodded. “Same here. Well, I’ll see myself out.”
“No, wait.” Her mom shot to her feet. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Yeah, I bet you will. Kaylee watched her mother and the detective leave the room. She considered confronting her mom about her little display, but decided it wasn’t worth it. A fight was the last thing that she needed right now. She just helped catch a killer. She was pretty sure that meant she was entitled to go upstairs and get some rest.
***
Kaylee expected herself to be exhausted, considering she’d barely slept at all since Claudia was murdered, and it only got worse after she found out about Frank.
But Frank was gone now.
And since he was the one who killed Claudia, she didn’t have to worry about a killer being on the loose either. And while no longer having to be concerned with her creepy next-door neighbor trying to sneak a peek at her changing clothes or getting out of the shower did give her some peace of mind, but it also left her feeling restless.
Sleep was the last thing on her mind. In fact, as she took a seat at her desk and looked down at her sketchbook—still filled front to back with nothing but blank pages—she got the urge to finally start drawing again.
She opened the sketchbook. Picked up her pencil. Took a deep breath.
“Come on, Kaylee,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s just drawing. You’ve done this a million times.”
She brought the pencil towards the paper. But stopped when she heard a knock on her door. Setting the pencil aside, she turned around in her seat.
“Come in.”
The door opened and her mom poked her head in. “Hey, sweetie, I’m going to bed now.”
“Okay.”
“Need anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Alright. Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t.”
“Good night.”
“Night.”
Her mother started to shut the door but then stopped herself and spoke up again. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“About earlier today, when the detective was here, I know you’re probably a little annoyed with me for the way I was acting, and you’re old enough for me to talk to you about this, so I just—”
“It’s fine, Mom,” Kaylee cut her off, really not wanting to discuss this subject with her. “I get it. Dad’s been out of the picture for a long time.”
“Really? You’re sure you’re not upset?”
“I don’t care what you do, Mom. It’s your life.” In truth, she was a little annoyed, but she had zero desire to hash it out with her right now.
“Kaylee, you don’t have to be that way. We can talk about this if you—”
“We don’t have to talk about it. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not mad about it. Really.”
Her mom opened her mouth, looked ready to say something, but then smiled as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Good. I’m glad you feel that way. Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright.”
Her mother shut the door, leaving Kaylee to focus on her drawing for the first time in what felt like an eternity. But she barely had the pencil in her hand before she was distracted once again, this time by the sound of a car outside.
It sounded like it was across the street.
Kaylee got out of her seat and leaned forward to take a peek through the blinds of the window right above her desk.
She thought, and hoped, that it might be Eric pulling into his driveway. If it was, she could sneak out and go see him. Try to apologize for grilling him the other day.
But it wasn’t him.
It was the house next-door to his—the Henderson place. An SUV was parking in the garage. Once it was stationary, the red tail lights went out and the driver’s side door opened. Greg got out.
And he wasn’t alone.
A dark-haired young woman was with him. She wore a sleeveless red dress cut off well above the knees. She was too far away for Kaylee to get a good look at her, and was facing in the opposite direction so she couldn’t see her face, but Kaylee wasn’t that interested in who she was. She mostly wanted to know what she was doing with her neighbor at nearly one in the morning.
Greg walked around the front of the car. Came to a stop. Held his arms out. The young woman rushed into them. Greg pulled his arms tight around her before leaning in to kiss her just as the garage door was sliding shut.
What the hell was that?
Just when Kaylee thought everything was starting to make sense. Now she had tons of new questions swirling around in her head.
Sneaking around with a young woman only days after the death of his wife was hardly the kind of behavior considered acceptable for a grieving husband.
Something wasn’t right here.
Frank was obviously guilty of a lot of things, and he deserved to be in prison without a doubt, but suddenly Kaylee found herself wondering if murder might not be on his list of crimes.
15
KAYLEE DIDN’T HAVE MUCH OF an appetite. Sitting at the island in the center of the kitchen, she picked at the toast on the plate in front of her. It was hard to care about eating when all she could think about was what she saw last night.
It even kept her up for most of the night.
She kept thinking that maybe she might have made a mistake. Maybe she didn’t see what she thought she saw. And even if she had, maybe she was jumping to
conclusions. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. With the way the Hendersons fought that one day, it was certainly not hard to believe that their marriage might be strained. So maybe Greg wasn’t all that shook up about losing his wife.
On the other hand, maybe he was sick of having her around—nagging him all the time—and decided that he would rather trade her in for a younger model.
Or perhaps it wasn’t an affair.
Maybe it was just a one-night stand and he killed his wife for a different—unrelated—reason. Something that Kaylee didn’t know anything about yet.
There were so many possibilities.
So many variables.
The only thing she was sure of right now was that she couldn’t just let it go. As easy as it would be to forget it all and say that Frank got what he deserved, she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Maybe it was Frank, and she was worrying for no reason, but she wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew the definitive truth.
Until she was sure that the right killer was arrested.
She refused to watch another murderer go free.
And that killer could very well be her own husband. Any evidence she had right now was circumstantial at best, but like Detective Ferguson said, she might make a good cop someday, and if that were true, then she figured she might as well put that to the test by getting an early start on her first investigation.
Just then, her mom entered the kitchen, putting an earring in one ear without slowing down for a second to make the task easier for herself.
“I’m late,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m late.”
Kaylee resisted the urge to smirk. That was nothing new. Her mom was late all the time. It was like a bad cycle she couldn’t break at this point. Like she just couldn’t catch up with her own life no matter what she tried, which meant everything ended up getting done at the last minute.
It drove Kaylee crazy.
But so did a lot of things that her mom did.
Kaylee pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time. “Relax, Mom. You’re not even that late. You still have plenty of time to get to work.”
“There might be traffic, though. I really don’t want to be late. I haven’t been working there for very long, and Dr. Carney’s motto is if you’re early you’re on time and if you’re on time then you’re late.
“Sounds like a fun guy.”
“Yeah, well, he seems to like me so far, and I would prefer to keep it that way.”
“You should probably eat something before you go,” Kaylee said. Although she knew it probably made her look like a hypocrite to say that while still picking at her toast.
Her mom stopped her rushing around long enough to look at her with a crooked grin. Hands on her hips. “Who exactly is the mom here? You or me?”
Try as she might, Kaylee couldn’t stop herself from cracking a smile. “You are, but let me know if the position ever opens up, okay?”
“I’ll be sure to do that.” Her mom slipped her purse over her shoulder. “Well, I have got to get going. I’ll see you tonight. Oh, and don’t forget that we’re finally going to unpack the last few boxes this weekend. I’m sick of looking at them.”
“Alright. Can’t wait.”
Kaylee watched her mom leave the kitchen. She was still thinking about what she saw last night. It was eating away at her. Maybe now was the time to finally share it with someone. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted that someone to be her mom, but who else was she supposed to talk to?
“Mom, wait.” Kaylee scrambled to her feet and followed. Caught up to her in the foyer as she was slipping her shoes on. “Hey, Mom, can we talk for a sec before you go?”
“Sweetie, I just said I’m going to be late.” Her mom didn’t look at her until she grasped the doorknob. “Can’t this wait until I get home?”
“Um, yeah, I guess it can wait.”
“Great. See you later.” Her mom opened the door.
“Actually, no it can’t.” Kaylee stepped forward and pushed the door shut again. “I think it’s important.”
Her mother sighed and turned around. Pulled her purse up higher on her shoulder. “Alright, what is it?”
Kaylee studied her mom’s face. It didn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that she wasn’t even remotely interested in what Kaylee had to say, which meant that telling her what she saw would be a complete waste of time.
“Never mind,” Kaylee said. “You were right actually. It can wait until later.”
“Are you sure?”
Kaylee nodded.
“Alright. Love you. Bye.” Her mom opened the door again and left the house.
Kaylee watched her walk down the driveway to her car. Frowned and folded her arms. Just because she couldn’t talk to her mom about what she saw didn’t mean she had to keep it to herself.
There was someone else she could talk to.
Someone who might find it as odd as she did.
Getting out of her seat, leaving the toast she hardly even touched behind, Kaylee made her way upstairs so she could take a quick shower. After that, she planned to spill the beans about what she witnessed—keeping it inside made her feel like she might burst.
***
“Are you sure about that? I mean, really sure?” Mia pushed her sunglasses to the edge of her nose to look Kaylee in the eye.
“Yes, I’m positive. Well, maybe not positive, but I’m pretty sure that I saw it. He obviously hugged her, and it looked like he kissed her too.”
“Well, what kind of kiss was it? I mean, like, just a peck on the cheek? Or was it, like, full on the lips?”
“It was on the lips for sure.”
“Really? Did you see her face?”
“No, she had her back to me the whole time, and it was pretty dark so I couldn’t get a good look at her.”
“Well,” Mia sat up and reached for her lemonade on the table beside her lounge chair, “that sounds pretty scandalous, but I don’t think it’s really any of our business.”
Mia’s backyard was a lot nicer than Kaylee’s, and a huge part of that was the pool. All the flowers and fountains were a nice touch too. It looked more like a garden than just a backyard. According to Mia, her mom liked to put a lot of money into making sure the landscaping in the backyard was nothing short of perfect.
Apparently, it was just one of her many little projects that consumed her time since her divorce five years ago—along with Pilates classes, tennis matches with younger men, and sipping expensive wine with friends. All of it paid for with alimony checks.
The bitterness in Mia’s tone was easy to pick up on as she explained it all. Not that Kaylee could blame her. She was no stranger to how difficult and awkward it was to be stuck in the middle of separated parents, especially when animosity existed between those parents.
“Wait, what do you mean it’s none of our business?” Kaylee asked. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird that he’s going out with a younger woman less than a week after his wife was murdered?”
“Well, sure it’s weird, but everyone deals with grief differently. I mean, losing both of his loved ones . . . how can either of us really say what we’d do if we were in his shoes?”
Actually, I think I can. Kaylee looked away and started to chew on her bottom lip. She was sitting in a lounge chair right beside Mia’s, but with her legs dangling over the side. Not about to talk about Chelsea’s death with Mia—or with anyone else for that matter—she decided to keep the conversation focused on Greg.
“All I’m saying is that it doesn’t seem like a very normal thing for someone to do when they just lost their wife. Unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless he had something to do with her death.”
“Whoa. Timeout. You think Mr. Henderson killed his wife? No way. I don’t see it.”
“Why not? It makes perfect sense if he was having an affair. Did Claudia have a lot of money?”
“I don’t know. They both make good money as f
ar as I know. Well, made good money in Mrs. Henderson case I guess.”
“What did she do?”
“Do?”
“Yeah. What was her job?”
“She was a real estate agent. She and her husband even worked together on this neighborhood. He designed them, and then she sold them. They made a lot of money.”
“He probably didn’t want to divorce his wife because it would cost him, like, half of everything he’s got, so he just killed her instead.”
“What about Frank Palmer? I thought you said the cops have a rock-solid case against him.”
“They do. Well, they have everything but a confession.”
“So what? I mean, would you admit to killing someone if you did?”
“There’s something about this that just doesn’t feel right. I don’t believe for a second that Greg actually cares that his wife is dead. If he did, then he wouldn’t be sneaking around with some mystery girl in the middle of the night.”
“Alright.” Mia took a sip of lemonade and then reclined in her seat again, returning her sunglasses to their rightful place. “So maybe he was having an affair. Big deal. That doesn’t mean he killed his wife.”
“No, but he might have.”
“Even if he did, what can we do about it?”
“We can find proof,” Kaylee answered without hesitation.
“And how are we supposed to do that, Nancy Drew? Are we going to dress in black and hide in the bushes in front of his house? Watching his every move. Because if that’s your plan then you can count me out.”
“No, that’s not my plan. Although now that you mention it, that does give me an idea.”
“Uh-oh, I don’t like the sound of that. What kind of idea?”
“We can keep an eye on him. Tonight. If he goes out with his girlfriend again then we’ll be there to take some pictures of them together so we can show them to the police.”
Mia laughed. “You mean, like, a stakeout?”
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” Kaylee turned away to watch a dragonfly flit about only an inch or two over the top of the pool. “So what do you say?”
The Killer Next Door: A Murder Mystery Page 10