by J. M. Madden
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“My mom wasn’t the same person after my dad died. She was different. It was almost like …”
He shook his head, looked to the side, remembering.
“Like what?” I prompted.
“Like she wasn’t sad he wasn’t around anymore. She was relieved.”
“Did they have a good marriage?”
“Thought so. Then he passed and she just … changed overnight. She tried to save face when we were around, act like she was in mourning over his death, but she wasn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Beats me. I figured one day she’d lose the charade and we’d all find out what she was hiding. Have to say, I never thought it would take this long.”
“And you think Sebastian was the secret she was keeping from all of you?”
A chunky piece of his fair locks fell over his left eye. He made no attempt to slide it to the side. It was as if he liked it there, liked hiding beneath it. “Makes sense. She sat there the other night expecting us to believe she’d only known the guy for a short time, but I don’t know. I didn’t believe it.”
And instead of witnessing what he assumed to be his mother’s hypocrisy, he did the only thing he could do—he left. If he was right, if June had been lying, I didn’t blame him for making the quick exit.
“You told police that Will thought Wren was getting too close to a colleague at work. What can you tell me about him?”
“Gabe?”
I nodded.
He strapped his bike helmet on, straddled the hog, pulled in the clutch, and pushed the start button. The bike roared to life. “I can’t tell you anything. Don’t know the guy.”
“What about what your brother told you? Do you believe it’s true?”
He released the clutch, and the bike rolled forward onto the street. “I don’t know. We weren’t close.”
The bike sped down the asphalt street. I stood with my arms crossed in front of me, watching him go. Something about him reminded me of my previous self, of the days when I escaped my own life by running. He could run all he wanted. Eventually he’d have no choice. He’d have to slow down.
SIXTEEN
Gabriel Mendez was several inches shorter than I was and had thick, black hair that looked like it never stayed put, no matter how many times it was forced into place by a brush and a can of maximum-hold hairspray. It should have been his most prominent feature, but at the moment, a dark red, bruised eye rivaled his mangy mane for first place.
He stood in the center of the doorway, dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and an unmatching T-shirt with a Tyrannosaurus rex on the front of it. The T-rex looked hungry.
“Gabriel Mendez?” I asked.
“Gabe. You’re the chief’s wife, aren’t you?”
“Girlfriend. How did you know?”
“I saw the two of you together last weekend at Lucky’s Bar.”
“Where’d you get the shiner?”
“I ran my eye into a Bancroft.”
He laughed it off. Seeing how three members of the Bancroft family were now dead, I didn’t.
“I heard you had a relationship with Wren.”
He raised a bushy brow. “You get right to the point, don’t you?”
It was late, and I was tired.
“We work together,” he continued. “Haven’t talked to her since her mother-in-law died. How is she?”
Apparently the news hadn’t blown through town yet.
“She’s dead.”
It looked like he might laugh again until he zeroed in on my face.
“You serious?”
“Very,” I said.
“What happened?”
“She shot herself this morning.”
He wiped his brow. “Oh, man. I can’t believe it. I should have gone to see her. I was trying to give her family some space, you know?”
“How close were you two?”
“I told you already. We worked together.”
“There’s a rumor going around that you two were more than just friends.”
“And everyone believes what they want to believe, no matter what I say.” He pointed to his eye. “How do you think I got this?”
“Was it true? Was something going on?”
“I’m married. Of course it isn’t true.”
As if the glue holding together a marital bond couldn’t get unstuck.
I peered over his shoulder. “Is your wife home?”
He shook his head. “She’s at her mother’s.”
“I assume since you can’t hide your black eye, she knows about the rumors.”
He nodded. I continued. “Does she believe them?”
“No. She doesn’t. She knows they’re not true.” He sighed. “You have kids?”
I didn’t understand the point of his query, but I shook my head anyway.
“A few weeks ago, we lost our baby,” he said. “We were one week away from finding out the sex, and boom, it was gone. We’d been trying for almost a year, so when my wife miscarried, she was devastated. We both were.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The first week after it happened, my wife never left the couch. She’d sit there, staring at the TV screen, crying. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t shower, wouldn’t leave the house. I had no idea how to help her.”
“So you turned to Wren?”
“I couldn’t find my dry-erase pen one day at school, so I went to see if Wren had one, and we ended up talking. I broke down, and it all came out.”
“What did Wren say?”
“Wren never wanted children, but from one woman to another, she still understood the pain Maritsa was feeling. She told me to go home and ask my wife if she wanted to talk about how she was feeling. Sounds simple, right? I hadn’t done it though. I thought it would be too hard. Turned out, Wren was right. Maritsa was suppressing her emotions, keeping it all in. Once I asked her to share her feelings, she opened up to me, and everything got better.”
“How did a simple offer of help get twisted into rumors of you and Wren having a fling?”
“Wren didn’t tell anyone what was going on. My wife wasn’t ready for people to know, so we kept it quiet. Wren stopped by my classroom almost every day just to see how things were going. I suppose on the outside, it looked scandalous, even though it wasn’t. I love my wife. And Wren loved her husband. I’m just sorry she was there for me, and when I had the chance to return the favor, I didn’t do it.”
“What stopped you?”
“After the rumors started, I thought it best to keep my distance for a while, let things die down. It was stupid. I was stupid.”
His sincerity was moving, and I had no reason not to believe him.
“The only thing that doesn’t make sense to me is why Will would take a swing at you. He didn’t seem like an aggressive person to me.”
Gabriel seemed puzzled. He looked at me and said, “It wasn’t Will who punched me. It was Simon.”
SEVENTEEN
I returned to Simon’s house, found him back inside his garage, tinkering with his bike, just like he had been earlier. Thinking he was rid of me, he wasn’t pleased to see me again.
“You were in love with Wren, weren’t you?” I stated.
He didn’t make eye contact. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s true, though. Isn’t it? You said you weren’t close to Will, and yet you decked a guy after hearing he was spending too much time with Wren.”
“You’re crazy,” he grunted.
Probably. I was also right.
“Was there anything between the two of you?”
“No.”
“If there was, there’s no reason to hide it now.”
“I said, no.”
“Okay.”
“I’m tired. You done?”
Done. Done only happened for me when a job was finished.
“I have several other questions, actually.”
He turn
ed his back to me. “I have nothing else to say.”
“If I could just—”
“Go home and don’t come back. Like I said, I’m done talking.”
EIGHTEEN
I leaned back on the sofa, draping my arms around a tearful Shelby. She hadn’t taken the news of Wren’s death well, and I soon learned why. Wren hadn’t just been a teacher. She was someone Shelby talked to, leaned on for guidance before I entered the picture, back when Shelby was an out-of-control teen and had no mother figure in her life.
Shelby broke from my embrace, taking my advice to soak in the hot tub and relax. No sooner had she left the room, Cade entered it, walking over and sitting beside me.
“Thanks for bein’ so good to Shelby,” he said. “Before you got here, I tried talkin’ to her, but I didn’t really know what to say.”
I squeezed his hand. “I can’t believe Wren’s dead.”
“You were right. She was innocent. Hooker called. Durin’ his autopsy of June, he noticed she had a bruise on her left cheek, presumably made with one of the killer’s fingers. It suggests the killer held her head with his left hand and stabbed her with the right. The blade was also driven into her body at an angle, right to left.”
“Wren was left-handed.”
“Exactly.”
“It may rule her out, but since ninety percent of the population is right-handed, we’re not any closer to finding who committed the murders, are we?”
“Maybe not, but Wren’s name has been cleared. It’s a start.”
“Hooker say anything else?”
“He also confirmed the blood on that book you found at June’s was Wren’s. Wren had a large knot on her head. Hooker thinks June’s attacker used the book to hit Wren from behind, knocking her unconscious, and then set the scene to make it look like she was the killer.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t find any prints on the book?”
He shook his head. “Everything the killer touched in both houses was wiped clean.”
“What about your day? Did you learn anything from Sebastian?”
I gave him what scant details I had. I also filled him in on my subsequent visits with Simon and Gabe. My theory about Simon having feelings for Wren shocked him the most.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Was he in love with her?”
“I’m still not sure. I don’t think she shared the same feelings though. She was devastated when Will died. If she loved another man, I just don’t see her killing herself.”
NINETEEN
Morning came and I headed out again, this time to visit with the only other remaining member of the Bancroft family I hadn’t seen yet, Patty, who looked like she hadn’t slept since her mother died. She probably hadn’t. She had two strands of chunky, pink highlights in her otherwise blond hair, and it was easy to see the family resemblance to Simon.
The interior of Patty’s home was cluttered with so many trinkets, I felt like I’d just stepped into an antique store.
“Excuse the mess,” Patty said, scooting various piles of clutter to the side as she walked. “I’ve been trying to get a business going on eBay so I can quit my job.”
“You have a lot of interesting things,” I said.
She swished a hand through the air. “This is nothing. Follow me.”
I walked with her to a bedroom that was chock full of one of my worst nightmares, floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with dolls. All porcelain. All eyeballing me with a devilish grin like they were waiting until I was distracted so they could spring to life, pull a miniature knife out of their pockets, and stab me with it repeatedly.
I had to admit, I’d seen too many horror movies.
“These are … ahh … wow… a lot of dolls,” I said.
“I’ve been collecting for years, ever since my mom bought me my first one when I was ten.”
I had to look at something else, anything else, so I turned my attention to the corner of the room, to a desk filled with framed family photos. I was browsing the various photographs until Patty walked over and stood in front of the desk, blocking my view.
“I’m sorry to take up your time,” I said. “I know you’ve had a hard week.”
She nodded. “If it wasn’t for my husband, I doubt I would have gotten through it.”
“I’ll be as brief as I can. I’m sure you need some time to yourself.”
“Don’t worry about it. The last thing I need right now is for it to be quiet. I’d do just about anything to keep any kind of noise going.”
“I spoke to Gabriel Mendez last night,” I said. “He had a black eye. He said Simon did it.”
Her face was vacant, lacking any expression. She already knew.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I was surprised to find out Simon assaulted him and not Will.”
“Will isn’t … I mean to say, he wasn’t the violent type. He’d never hurt anyone, even if the person hurt him.”
“And Simon?”
“You met him. Complete opposite.”
“Simon told me he wasn’t close to Will.”
“He loved his brother. He just didn’t like the constant badgering from Will to clean up his life. Simon’s not the type of person who likes to be lectured.”
“Why did he confront Gabriel? Because he knew Will wouldn’t?”
Her eyes darted around.
“What about his relationship with Wren?” I asked.
“What about it?”
“Is it possible there were feelings between them? I’m not talking about transparent ones, those shared by a man and his brother’s wife. I’m talking about real affection, the kind that goes beyond family ties.”
Patty bit her upper lip, pulled out the desk chair, sat down. “Wren and Simon were always close, ever since middle school. They grew up together. Played together. I suppose Simon always loved Wren, but Wren always loved Will, and her happiness was more important to Simon than his own personal feelings.”
“I saw him last night. He was standoffish, but he seemed like he was doing okay.”
“Doing okay?” She shook her head. “No. When he left you standing in his garage after your first visit, he rode to my house. When he got here, he was a mess. Tears, the whole works. You wanna know how many times before last night I’ve seen him cry?”
I shrugged.
“Never.”
Now that Patty was sitting, I had a clear view of the pictures on the desk. Many were of Patty at different ages, some with her brothers, a couple with her mom. I walked over, picked one up. “Who’s this?”
“My dad.”
“You look like him. So does Simon.”
She beamed. “You really think so?”
“Definitely.”
The more I stared at the picture, the more everything came together in a way it hadn’t before this moment.
The shattered frame at June’s house.
The death of both June and Will.
A new theory formed.
It all made sense now.
TWENTY
Sebastian Ayres didn’t seem surprised to see Cade and me standing on his front porch, but Carol was another story. She took one look at the two of us and practically tripped over herself as she started to back away. Seemed my theory was correct.
I wanted to say: Where you off to? The kitchen, for a sharp, pointy thing? You going to stab us ALL now? But I didn’t. She darted for the back door. Cade took off after her.
When we’d pulled up to the house a minute before, Cade had called the local police, warning them that he had reason to believe someone in the Ayres household was a killer. We assumed the police would arrive soon, but not before we had the chance to interrogate the couple ourselves first.
“You’ve known June a lot longer than a few months, haven’t you?” I asked. “And what you said before about not leaving your wife for her, that was a lie, wasn’t it? You would have, wouldn’t you?”
He held my gaze but didn’t speak, so I continued doing the talking
for him.
“I think you’ve wanted to leave your wife for years, but June wouldn’t leave her husband, would she? Then he died, and finally, you saw your opportunity, and you took it.”
Again, no response.
“Look, Mr. Ayres, the police are on their way over right now. It’s over.”
“So why are you two here then? Why not let the cops deal with it?”
“Three Bancrofts have died this week. I’d say that’s more than enough reason for me to want to hear the real truth, straight from your mouth.”
I also wanted to ensure we were successful getting a confession.
His eyes closed. When they reopened, he said, “You’re right. I’ve known June almost forty years. We dated in college.”
“Why did you break up?”
“We argued one night. I wanted to enlist in the service. She didn’t want me to, said she wouldn’t wait for me if I did. She thought if I chose the service instead of her, it meant I didn’t love her, which wasn’t true. I loved her. I wanted to marry her. I also wanted to serve my country. It was the right thing to do. She just didn’t understand.”
“What happened?”
“We said our goodbyes, and I thought she’d cool off by morning. Then she asked me again not to do it. I told her I’d made up my mind, explained again how much I felt it was my duty to serve. I asked if she’d reconsider waiting. She replied by slapping me across the face, and that was the end of it. The end of us.”
“When did you find out about Will?” I asked.
His eyes widened, shocked that I’d discovered the dark family secret. I actually hadn’t. I’d only suspected. His panicked reaction solidified the truth for me.
“How did you find out? June never told anyone besides me.”
“I saw a photo on Patty’s desk,” I said. “Her father had light hair, just like her, and just like Simon. Not Will though. As a child his hair was so dark it was almost black. He didn’t look like the man who raised him. He didn’t look like either one of his two other siblings either. I couldn’t see it before now, because when I met him, his head was shaved. Once I saw the childhood photo though, there was no mistaking. I knew who he reminded me of. You.”