Family Under Fire

by Jane Godman

  Losing her mom and dad at such a young age had been bad enough. But had she seen the events leading up to their demise? Alyssa had been ten when her own father’s death had caused the emotional scars that had affected her all the way into adult life. What sort of impact could a similar trauma have on a fragile baby?

  “We’ll get through it together.” The bonds that bound her to Kennedy drew even tighter. “The three of us.”

  * * *

  Everett watched in amazement as Kennedy devoured a second bowl of oatmeal. “I think we can safely say her appetite hasn’t been affected.”

  After sleeping for several hours, the baby had woken in a cheerful mood and appeared to have forgotten her earlier distress. The only difference in her behavior was a tendency to get tearful if she couldn’t see both Everett and Alyssa at all times.

  “Casey is coming over with Bob Andrews. He’s a deputy in the Sur County Sheriff’s Department and he was assigned to go to the Dodds’ house after the bodies were found. I figured he would be the best person to tell us exactly what the scene looked like that night.”

  As he spoke, he used a baby wipe to get as much oatmeal as he could out of Kennedy’s hair. Watching him, the little girl chuckled and batted her eyelashes at him.

  Alyssa placed apple slices on the tray in front of Kennedy. After checking that the baby was engrossed in her food, she moved away slightly, indicating that Everett should follow her.

  “I know she can’t understand what we’re saying, but I don’t like talking about these things if she can overhear us.” She smiled fondly as Kennedy used one chubby fist to pound apple into mush. “I just...” She crossed her arms over her body as though fending off a chill. “I’m having a hard time picturing how it happened, you know? How do you kill someone by getting them to drive their car into a wall?”

  As he stepped close, he could see the tension in her jaw and the tightness in the fine muscles around her eyes. Alyssa, who had always turned away from danger, was being forced to confront it head-on. Although she was finding it tough, he was amazed by the inner strength she was developing. Imagining a murder scene was about as far from the peaceful life she had created for herself as it was possible to get, but, for Kennedy’s sake, she was prepared to face this nightmare and defeat Georgia.

  Drawing her into a hug, he ran his hands along her shoulders. A shudder ran through her slender body and she rested her head against his chest.

  “It’s a question I’ve thought about a lot, but it’s best not to torture yourself with trying to picture what went on,” he said. “One thing I’ve learned is that murderers can be creative. If we’re right, and Georgia is guilty, that’s all we need to know. The details will all become clear once she’s charged with their murders.”

  She tilted her head to look at him. “You sound so confident.”

  “As confident as I was that time I tried walking a tightrope on Valentine’s.”

  Her laughter rang out immediately, just as he’d hoped it would. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  He placed a hand over his heart. “Forgotten? That was my finest hour, Lyss, and it was all for you.”

  “Ah, yes.” Her eyes twinkled deliciously. “There you were. Poised like an orangutan in a safety harness, wobbling six inches above the padded floor, with a rose between your teeth—”

  “You just don’t know how to appreciate a romantic gesture.”

  He moved his hand up to lightly tug her ponytail. It was a familiar, teasing action, but it took on a new meaning in that instant. Sparks flew between them and Alyssa’s eyes widened as they both moved closer...then jerked quickly apart at the sound of the security buzzer.

  “I should, uh—” Alyssa pointed to Kennedy. “While you—” She gestured to the door.

  Equally flustered, Everett waited until his breathing had returned to normal before he pressed the button for the speakerphone.

  “It’s Casey. Take your time.” Even the electronic system couldn’t disguise the sarcasm in his twin’s tone.

  When he opened the door, Casey was accompanied by another man in uniform.

  “This is Bob Andrews.” Casey had to raise his voice above the commotion coming from the direction of the high chair.

  As soon as she’d seen the two men, Kennedy had started to cry. By the time Alyssa had unfastened her from the chair, the tears had turned to full-blown screams.

  “My sister adopted a baby boy,” Bob sympathized. “He was the same whenever he saw a stranger. What did she call it? Separation anxiety.”

  Alyssa cuddled the baby close. “But we were strangers to her when she came to us and she didn’t act like this.”

  “My nephew had been abducted when he was a baby. There were triggers that reminded him about it, and he’d get anxious and refuse to leave my sister.” He offered a reassuring smile. “He’s just started kindergarten and is fine now.”

  Kennedy was gradually calming down in Alyssa’s embrace. What Bob was saying fitted with what they’d seen earlier that day. She now saw Everett and Alyssa as her caregivers, but was aware of a time when something bad had happened to others who had been in those roles. The visit to her former home had reminded her of that event and clinging to the people who made her feel safe was her way of acting out her distress.

  It felt like further confirmation that Kennedy had been at the house on the night of her parents’ deaths. Everett felt his determination harden. He would do whatever it took to get to the truth.

  He served coffee and they sat at the table. Kennedy chewed on her teething toy, watching the strangers cautiously from the safety of Alyssa’s lap.

  “First off, I wanted to let you know that I checked back through the records to see if there were any domestic-disturbance calls involving Sean and Delilah during the period when they were together,” Casey said. “And the results came back negative.”

  “That supports what we already believe. The Dodds might have been criminals, but they had a loving relationship,” Everett said. “Unless they had problems that went unreported to the police.”

  “Casey explained that you want to know what I saw when I went to the Dodds’ house on the night they died.” Bob gave an apologetic shrug. “I don’t know if there’s much I can add to the investigating officer’s report.”

  “You described plates of food on the floor and overturned chairs,” Everett said. “We’re more interested in how the table was set out. I don’t suppose you took photographs?”

  “Not of the table. I have pictures of the mess, the smashed plates and the chairs that had been tipped over.” Bob reached into his top pocket and drew out a notebook. “I do have the quick sketch that I did at the time, if that helps?”

  Everett nodded. “Yeah. That will be really useful.”

  Bob flipped through the pages until he found the one he wanted. Placing it in a position on the table where they could all see it, he pointed to the rough diagram. “I’m not much of an artist. These are the chairs that had been flipped over, and here are the plates on the floor. You can see that I’ve indicated the other chairs that were left in position.”

  Alyssa leaned forward and pointed to a smaller square at one end of the table. “What was this?”

  He leaned closer to get a better look at his own drawing. “That? Oh, that was the baby’s high chair.”

  * * *

  Everett held up a hand, silencing the burst of conversation that had broken out around him. “Unless we can prove that Kennedy was actually in her high chair that night, Bob’s sketch means nothing.”

  Alyssa frowned. “You saw that house. It was a designer’s paradise. Baby items would spoil the look of the place. That high chair wouldn’t be in the kitchen unless the baby was eating with her parents.”

  He pointed to the high chair Kennedy had recently vacated at their own table. “We leave that in the same place all the time. Maybe
Sean and Delilah did the same.”

  “Your approach to interior design is laid-back,” Casey said. “The Dodds’ place, on the other hand, was done by a famous designer who’d won awards.”

  “None of that matters,” Everett insisted. “No jury in their right mind would accept this sketch as evidence that Kennedy was actually there.”

  Alyssa huffed out a breath. “But she was there. We know it because of the way she reacted when she saw the kitchen. We don’t know if her parents were killed there but we know she saw something bad happen that night.”

  “We have to prove it.” He lightly touched the back of her hand. “Beyond doubt.”

  Silence fell as they drank their coffee and considered the situation.

  “The Dodds had a cleaner who came in each day,” Casey said. “I’ll ask her if the high chair stayed in place, or if it was only brought out at meal times.”

  “That’s a useful line of inquiry.” Everett turned to Bob. “What about the photographs? Do you have copies?”

  “I deleted them from my cell phone, in line with department policy, but I emailed them to Captain Forman, the investigating officer.” Bob cast a sidelong glance in Casey’s direction. “I could access them through my emails, but I don’t know if I should get permission first.”

  Casey rolled his eyes. “Everett is FBI. How long do you think it will take him to bypass the sheriff’s department and get those pictures?”

  Bob hesitated for a moment longer, looking from one twin to the other. Finally, he retrieved his cell from his pocket.

  “Because I wanted to show that there had been a disturbance in the house, the only pictures I took were of the chairs that had been tipped over, the broken plates and the food on the floor. There are two of them.”

  He handed the phone to Everett. Alyssa leaned closer, studying the screen with him. She could understand why Bob had wanted to capture these images. There were eight high-backed chairs around the marble table, four on each side. With the high chair in position at one end, two places had been set for dinner, one on either side of the baby’s seat. Alyssa pointed that out to Everett, and he nodded, his expression grim. If the high chair wasn’t being used that night, why had Sean and Delilah chosen to sit next to it?

  There were the two chairs that had been tipped over. Next to the table, as though swept aside by an angry hand, a water pitcher, glasses, plates and a large bowl of salad were smashed on the tiled floor with water and food splattered around them. Alyssa viewed the devastation with dismay. She’d been expecting to see evidence of a disturbance, but the feeling she got from the scene was one of rage.

  “We already know that the blood splatters—” Everett pointed “—were Delilah’s. Was there evidence that anyone else had been injured?”

  “No,” Bob said. “But there was no sign of how Delilah came to be hurt. Her blood wasn’t on any of the broken glass or crockery. Just those splashes on the tiles.”

  Unsure what more she’d expected to gain from seeing the pictures for herself, Alyssa studied the pictures from every angle. Eventually, she pointed to the image of the food on the floor. “Can you enlarge this section?”

  Everett obliged, stretching the photograph to zoom in on the mess that had been Sean and Delilah’s last meal.

  Alyssa’s gaze became intent. “There!”

  Everett’s shoulder bumped hers as he took in the portion of the picture she was indicating. “That’s it.” He gripped her hand tightly. “You’ve found it. It’s the evidence we needed.”

  “Found what?” Casey tried impatiently to get a look at the screen over their shoulders. “What is it?”

  “There’s a sippy cup and a jar of pureed food half-buried by the spilled salad,” Everett said. “Although it’s evidence that Kennedy was there that night, it doesn’t prove Georgia killed her parents.”

  “But it does confirm that Georgia lied when she said Kennedy was with her that night.” Alyssa was outraged. “Why else would she do that if she wasn’t covering up her guilt?”

  “Because lying comes as naturally to her as breathing?” Casey’s smile was faintly self-mocking. “I’ve known for a long time what a lucky escape I had when she dumped me at the altar.”

  “You know Georgia better than most people. She helped kill Pierce Tostig. Do you think she’s capable of murdering her own brother?” Everett asked.

  Casey was silent for a moment or two. “If she was cornered, I think she’d be capable of anything.”

  Chapter 8

  Bob Andrews had already left in his own car, but Casey paused at the door. “Are you spending the holidays with Mom and Dad?”

  “We haven’t discussed it yet.” Everett cast a swift look over his shoulder in Alyssa’s direction. “I kind of caught Mom by surprise with the news about Kennedy.”

  “Yeah.” Casey grinned. “She hasn’t stopped talking about it since.”

  “What stage is she in?”

  “We recently reached the I-trusted-you-to-tell-me-if-there-was-a-problem-with-your-brother phase.”

  Everett laughed. “I like that one better than when she gets to ‘you have no idea how hard it was to raise twin boys.’”

  After a few minutes of reflecting on their mother’s various ways of guilt-tripping them, Casey’s expression became serious. “Are you okay?”

  “A ready-made family is hard enough. This other stuff takes it to a new level,” Everett said. “In a way, I wish we could find conclusive proof that Sean did kill himself and Delilah. That way, we could move on.”

  “I think we all know that’s not going to happen.” Casey lowered his voice further. “I didn’t want to say this in front of Alyssa, but Georgia is in court again tomorrow.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No idea, but I plan on being at the courthouse to find out.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” Everett said. He would welcome an opportunity to look Georgia in the eye. He didn’t expect her to give away anything, but it would be an opportunity to see if he could make her squirm. “Why don’t you and Melody come over for dinner tomorrow night? We can plan our strategy for the holidays.”

  Casey laughed. “You mean how do we deal with Mom when she reaches the come-because-you-want-to-not-because-you-feel-obliged-to phase?”

  “I’d forgotten about that one. I had moved on and was picturing Dad’s response.”

  They recited Ryker Colton’s closing argument together. “Your mom wants you here. Show up.”

  When his brother had gone, Everett found Alyssa dealing with a sleepy baby.

  “It’s been a tough day. I think she needs to have an early bath and go straight to bed.”

  Everett had learned a few things since Kennedy’s first bath time. “I’ll put some towels on the bathroom floor and change into a pair of shorts. Then I’ll run her bath and help you get her ready.”

  He headed toward the bedroom, but as soon as he was out of her field of vision, Kennedy started to whimper.

  “She’s doing that thing again. It upsets her when she can’t see us both,” Alyssa said.

  “Okay.” Everett gave the situation some thought. “We can get the bath ready together. I don’t have to wear shorts this time.”

  As he spoke, Alyssa started wrestling Kennedy out of her clothes. The baby, who wasn’t a fan of getting dressed or undressed, had the ability to impersonate a wriggling worm while rolling around her changing mat. Everett stepped in to distract Kennedy with a toy while Alyssa removed the rest of her garments.

  Everett pulled off his own sweatshirt. “Do you want to take off some of your clothes before we start?” he asked Alyssa.

  She cast a quick glance in the direction of his bare chest. They had gone from wearing regular clothing at bath time, to changing into old garments, then into shorts and tanks. Her look said it all. Next step, naked?

  “I
’m good, thanks.”

  He shrugged. “You know what it’s like when Tidal Wave Dodd gets started.”

  “She’s tired tonight. I’ll risk it.”

  Her confidence turned out to be well-placed. Instead of being her usual wild and squirmy self, Kennedy was content to relax in the warm water and let herself be washed. At the same time, Everett was happy for once to take a step back and let Alyssa care for the baby. He watched the softness in her eyes as she murmured to Kennedy, soothing away the cares of the day. It was like they had always been mother and daughter, and she had never been more beautiful to him than in that moment.

  He knew he’d been staring for too long when Alyssa looked up at him with a question in her gaze.

  “Time for bed?” He cleared his throat. “Not for us. I have no reason to suggest that. Why would I even be thinking it? I meant for Kennedy...”

  A slight smile flitted across Alyssa’s face. “Where’s her special towel?”

  “In the linen closet. Because I forgot to bring it.” He got to his feet but as soon as he reached the door, Kennedy started to cry. “Ah...”

  Alyssa pointed to the shelf. “We can wrap her in one of the new towels and carry her through to the bedroom together.”

  “Wait. She gets to use one of the decorative towels, but I don’t? Shouldn’t we have a family meeting about this? Take a vote—” He broke off laughing as Alyssa dug a finger into his ribs. “Oh, I get it. They’re emergency decorative towels.”

  “Stop talking and start moving, Colton.”

  Although Kennedy was dwarfed by the fancy bath towel, she was happy to be fussed over by both of them. By the time they reached the bedroom, she was drowsy, and even getting her into a fresh diaper and a clean onesie posed no problems.

  Alyssa lowered her into the crib. “Once she’s asleep, we’ll be able to leave the room without her noticing,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure about that?” Everett asked as, even with her eyes closed, Kennedy maintained a tight grip on the front of Alyssa’s shirt.