by Nesly Clerge
“All right. We had an affair. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Looks like Mrs. Hall considered it to be more than just an affair. So that leaves me wondering if she asked you to get rid of her husband so you two could build your own love nest.”
Luke tried to stand but couldn’t. “You leave her out of this. Neither of us had anything to do with his death.”
“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe.” He pointed a finger at Luke. “But you did. You’d think anyone, especially in this day and age, would know not to leave fingerprints, like on the brake line and a few of those other engine bits he had to touch to get to it. Guess you thought if the crash was bad enough, no one would notice.
“But I’m curious about something. Did you know Dr. Hall had been drinking heavily or speeding? Did Mrs. Hall, perhaps, contact you about her husband’s condition, tell you that circumstances were ideal to carry out your plan?” When Luke didn’t answer, he said, “Maybe Mrs. Hall will fill in the gaps. Time to get her in here.” He started to stand.
“Wait. Chelsea’s innocent. She’s been through enough. Leave her out of it. It was me. She knows nothing about what I did. Before I explain, does my wife know about Chelsea?”
Maddox returned to his chair. “Not yet. But it’s just a matter of time.” He picked up his pen and twirled it between his fingers. “Okay, I’m listening.”
CHAPTER 146
“I didn’t do it,” Luke said, “to get Hall out of the way for the reason you think. Chelsea and I had decided we were going to get our divorces and get married, after an appropriate amount of time, especially because we both have children. She’d already told Garrett she wanted a divorce. It was my turn.” Luke focused his gaze on Maddox. “We’re perfect for each other. We knew it from the start.”
“Very touching.”
Luke balled his hands into fists and said, “Hall cheated on her all the time, for years. He was an addict or something. He never treated her right. Berated how she looked until she believed him. Seems he had a type and she didn’t fit it. Such a beautiful woman, inside and out. He dragged her down and wouldn’t let her up.”
“That’s not a reason to kill him.”
“No, it isn’t. But fear for her safety was. He battered her. The first time I saw her injured, she tried to convince me it was an accident in the kitchen. A cabinet door. The second time, she told me the truth. He tried to rape her. She fought back. He didn’t like it. When I saw her an hour after it happened, her lip was split and swollen. So was her face on that side, where he’d slugged her. She moved slow, so I know there were bruises on her body she didn’t tell me about.
“During that fit of temper, he also destroyed a clock that cost around twenty grand. I moved it and all the broken pieces out of the foyer. She wasn’t strong enough to do that.”
“You went to their house?”
“We were supposed to meet. Chelsea didn’t show. Didn’t call or answer my calls or texts. I had to make sure she was okay. It was so unlike her, you see. So, I knew something had to be very wrong. As I just explained, I was right.”
“How many times have you been to the Hall house?”
“Just the once.”
“Mrs. Hall should have reported her husband’s abuse. But that didn’t give you the right to kill him.”
“You say that because you don’t know what I know. It’s why I was terrified for her safety.”
“Enlighten me.”
CHAPTER 147
“Garrett Hall killed his brother.” Luke filled Maddox in on the details. “After Chelsea told me what happened, I tracked him the rest of the day. I figured he’d go to his parents’ house. There were so many cars parked up and down the street, no one paid attention to mine. I waited and watched all day and into the night. Once it was dark enough and the visitors had cleared out, I took care of his brakes. You’re right about the research. I did it on my phone while I waited.
“My original plan was to use my fists when he went to his car to leave—give him a taste of his own, you know? But that would have created more problems. He would have gone after Chelsea. The solution had to be permanent. I couldn’t risk his losing his temper again and killing her, as well.”
“So, he drove off to his death and you went home to get a good night’s sleep after a job well done.”
Luke shook his head. “I followed him, which was easy, because of the weather and how late it was. Until he decided to hit the gas. No way could my car keep up with his. That’s when I realized messing with his brake line wouldn’t have been necessary. Way he was driving, he was determined to kill himself.”
Maddox put his pen down and stood. “We’ll look into his brother’s death.”
“Why bother? They’re both dead and buried.”
“There’s a matter of the family’s complicity in covering it up. Too bad you were determined to get involved.”
“For God’s sake. Haven’t they suffered enough?”
“Find yourself a good lawyer, Mr. Thompson. You’ll need one. But I think you’d better get used to the idea that you’re going away for a very long time. Murder gets life in Massachusetts. Don’t worry, though. Lots of authors write their books in prison.”
“The most I’m guilty of is assisted suicide.”
“I doubt a jury will see it that way.” Maddox opened the door and motioned to the officer who’d brought the water. He looked back at Luke. “Seems ironic, in a way, to say this about an author.” He handed the folder to the officer. “Book him.”
CHAPTER 148
Chelsea descended the stairs, started toward the front door and stopped. From recent experience, an unfamiliar car parked in the circular drive meant bad news. She considered ignoring whoever it was, but the person rang the doorbell again then knocked and kept knocking. She turned on the outside and foyer lights, smoothed her unkempt hair, pulled her robe closed at the neckline, and opened the door. “Can I help you?”
A badge and ID were held open at eye-level by a blond man in a gray suit. “Mrs. Hall, I’m Detective Maddox. From homicide. Sorry to call on you on a Sunday night. I’d like to come in and get a few questions answered.”
Homicide. She glanced back at the landing to make certain Kimberlie hadn’t gotten up in response to the racket. The bedroom door was closed, as it had been for the last four hours, since she’d brought a sandwich to her daughter. This visit had to be about Richard. The last thing she wanted was for Kimberlie to hear that her father had killed her uncle, even if unintentionally. There was nothing they could do to Garrett now.
“Come in, Detective. Would you like coffee, water, juice?”
“No thanks.”
She gestured toward the living room. “Let’s talk in here.” Chelsea turned on a floor lamp, sat on the sofa and tucked her robe around her legs and feet. Maddox took the chair opposite her.
“How can I help you, Detective?”
Maddox pulled a small notebook and pen from his jacket pocket. He flipped the notebook open and said, “Your husband died recently.” Chelsea bit her lower lip. Tears welled and spilled down her cheeks. “Sorry, Mrs. Hall. I imagine this must be hard for you.”
“We were together nearly two decades. I’m finding it difficult to adjust to the reality. It’s particularly challenging because of our daughter.”
“How old?”
“Fifteen.” Her smile was small and sad. “Kimberlie’s intelligent, like her father. She’s a straight-A student. Beautiful, but not full of herself. Precocious. Although, at the moment, all of that is dulled by her grief.”
“Not easy. Where’s your daughter now?”
“Upstairs. Likely going through the family photos again.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Detective, but as you might understand, I’m exhausted.”
“You’d like me to get to the point.”
“Please.”
“Tell me about your affair with Luke Thompson.”
CHAPTER 149
Chelsea’s face drained of the
little color it had. She buried her face in trembling hands. After a few moments, she said, “How did you find out?”
“I’d like to hear what you have to say.”
“I don’t understand the relevance.”
Maddox shrugged. “Maybe there is none. But when we find a loose thread, we follow it. Your husband’s death has a loose thread.”
“Again, I don’t understand.”
“I can tell you’re shocked.”
“I am. I thought this was about—”
Maddox cocked his head. “About what?”
“Never mind. I suppose there’s no way to avoid this.” She glanced at Maddox, who shook his head. “I’ll start at the beginning.” She told the truth, careful to omit certain details.
Maddox took notes as Chelsea spoke. He nodded a few times and prodded her to continue whenever her pauses lasted too long. Waited patiently for her to get control when she broke down more than once. “Anything else you’d like to add? Now’s the time.”
“There’s nothing else.”
“You’re certain?”
“Quite.”
Maddox chewed on the end of his pen as he studied her. “Your husband’s death made it convenient for you and Mr. Thompson to be together, didn’t it?”
“You must have missed when I said I ended it with Luke.”
“I heard. You did that after your husband died.”
“I was heading in that direction before the tragedy happened. Too much was being lost because of our involvement.”
“Still, there’s an element of convenience regarding the outcome.”
“From your perspective, perhaps.”
“How much life insurance did your husband have?”
“What?”
“Would you like me to repeat the question?”
“I can’t believe you asked it.”
“Still waiting for the answer.”
Chelsea went to the fireplace, flipped the switch, and watched the flames flicker to life.
“Mrs. Hall?”
She turned around. “I don’t actually know.”
“You haven’t made a claim yet?” He glanced around the room. “Granted, you’ve obviously got it good, but that’s one of the first things most widows usually do as soon as the funeral’s over. Some of them don’t wait that long.”
“I hadn’t even thought about it.”
“That’s hard to believe. Nearly impossible, actually. Why don’t you try the truth this time.”
CHAPTER 150
Chelsea glared at Maddox. “Are you always this cynical? It must be a challenge for any normal person to carry on a conversation with you.”
“An effect of the job and what and who I have to deal with. Especially when I’m trying to drag the truth out of someone.”
“That is the truth. You don’t know what we’ve been through. Garrett’s brother had an accident and died the day before Garrett did. We were all very close to him. Then, this happened.”
Maddox kept his eyes focused on her. “Another auto accident?”
Chelsea rubbed her arms as she spoke. “Richard fell and hit his head. He died not long after that. The next day, in fact, even though the doctor thought he’d be fine. He’d had a serious stroke in December. Maybe it weakened something. I don’t know.” She looked at Maddox, whose expression was quizzical as he watched her. “It was a double funeral. One was going to be painful enough.”
“Still.”
“Detective, I was the one who confirmed it was my husband. I had to see him in that condition. Do you have any idea what that’s done to me?”
“I have a pretty good idea.”
“I see him like that every time I close my eyes. Even when they’re open. Maybe you can understand that everything about our lives has been turned inside out. We’ve had nothing but grief, with no reprieve, for nearly two weeks. And it isn’t going to go away anytime soon.”
“That’s a tough situation to be in.”
“I don’t see a ring on your left hand. Are you married, Detective Maddox?”
“I was.”
Chelsea nodded. “Divorced.”
Maddox compressed his lips into a thin line. “Widowed.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe you understand what it’s like for us.”
“I’d like to get back on topic.”
“I have a question, Detective.”
“If I can answer it.”
“Why is homicide interested in my husband’s accident? I’m sure you read the report and know what happened that night. In his grief over his brother, he mixed alcohol with speed and rain.”
“Just crossing the T’s and dotting the I’s.”
“I’m sorry, but your questions seem irregular. And insensitive.”
“That’s how it goes sometimes.”
“Is there anything else?”
“That’ll do it. For now.” Maddox tucked his notebook and pen into his pocket and stood. “Just one thing, though. Stay in town. I may need to speak with you again.”
“I don’t understand any of this.”
Maddox, keeping his face expressionless studied hers. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m certain everything will be clear soon enough.”
Chelsea walked ahead of him to the door. Maddox stepped across the threshold, reached into his jacket pocket and turned. “Almost forgot.” He held out a plastic bag. “Your husband’s keys, watch, wedding ring, phone, wallet, and money clip with six hundreds in it.”
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have these items sooner.” Chelsea held her hand palm up.
Maddox placed the bag into her hand, all the while keeping his gazed fixed on her face. He opened his mouth to speak then changed his mind.
Once the door was closed, Chelsea pressed her forehead to it. She didn’t believe his explanation for coming to her house, especially at this hour. Nor did his questions make sense. Garrett had been drinking and driving like a madman in heavy rain. He’d done it deliberately, had crashed his car on purpose as a way to escape everything and everyone. Including himself.
There was only one way the detective had known about Luke. Penelope had to have told him. Yet another trap set for her. But why?
She doubted Penelope informed him about her affair with Garrett. Or maybe she had. The woman was shameless. And bent on wreaking as much havoc in her life as she could, with no thought of how it would hurt Kimberlie. And why would she think of that? Penelope wasn’t a mother. She was a feral cat, perpetually in heat, claws out.
Chamomile tea might calm her before climbing into bed for another mostly sleepless night. Or a glass of wine. Chelsea started toward the kitchen. She glanced toward Kimberlie’s door. It was open.
Kimberlie, tears flowing, sat halfway down the stairs. “It was one thing to hear Gram say it. But to hear you talk about it …”
“Kimmie. I—”
“Daddy killed himself. Didn’t he? Because of you. I didn’t even get to tell him goodbye. I hate you!” Kimberlie ran to the landing, slamming the door once inside her room.
Chelsea started to follow then stopped. She lowered herself onto the third step, unable to move as despair overwhelmed her.
CHAPTER 151
“I’m leaving to go to Susan’s house. Miss Angela’s taking us to school.” Kimberlie, dressed for school, stood in the doorway of Chelsea’s bedroom.
“You didn’t tell me you were going back today.”
Kimberlie shrugged. “I don’t want to stay here.”
Chelsea sat up in bed. “I know. You have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll drive you.”
“I don’t want anyone to see me with you.” Kimberlie cupped her hand over Garrett’s wristwatch.
“You found your dad’s watch, I see. He’d like that you’re wearing it.”
“I took his wedding ring, too. You broke your vows, so no reason for you to keep it.”
“Kimmie, please.”
“I want to stay with Susan tonight.”
After a pause, Chels
ea said, “I’ll pack some things for you and get them to her house.”
“I already did that. My bag’s by the front door.” Kimberlie’s cheeks flushed. “I may stay longer than one night. Miss Angela said it’s okay.”
Chelsea got up and started toward Kimberlie. “I can’t stand for us to be like this. Not at such a time, when we’re both hurting.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you … I just came to tell you what I was doing so you didn’t act stupid. You’ve already done enough of that.” Kimberlie, head down, pivoted and walked away.
Chelsea stayed where she was, listened to the front door open and close. She ran to the hall window and watched Kimberlie walk away, until the hedge blocked her daughter from view.
She trudged down the stairs to the kitchen and started a cup of coffee brewing. Arms folded, she stared out the French doors as she waited. There was no urge to swim laps. There hadn’t been for weeks. How odd it was to be in familiar surroundings, yet feel like a stranger in her own life.
Not a stranger—an outcast.
Her choices had contributed to this moment. But she hadn’t gotten there by herself. She’d had help.
She went into Garrett’s office, found the gun safe and opened it, surprised at how steady her hand was on the combination lock. Surprised again when she saw the Walther was missing. Only the Beretta Storm was there. Garrett had to have taken the other gun. They were the only two who knew the combination. When had he removed it, and why? Where was it now? She made a mental note to report to the police that the gun was missing. Then laughed at how ridiculous she was being, considering what she had planned.
The Beretta felt awkward in her hand. It had been ages since she’d practiced with Garrett at the gun range, and even then, she’d hated touching the pistols. She removed the clip—it was full. Gun in hand, she went upstairs to dress.
Penelope had wanted her life. And in the process, had done what she could to deconstruct it one person at a time; though, she obviously wasn’t done yet.
Not if I have anything to do about it, dear friend.