Secret Remains

by Jennifer Graeser Dornbush

  Nick started the engine. “How can she afford a Lexus on stripper wages?”

  “Tips?” Emily raised a brow.

  “She must be good at what she does,” said Nick.

  “Not Lexus good. These aren’t your Miracle Mile clients. She has to have a sugar daddy,” Emily ventured.

  “More likely,” said Nick, holding a concerned gaze on Emily. “So, what happened in there?”

  “Later.” She peeled her feet out of her heels. Felt so good.

  Nick pulled out of the drive, and they sped away.

  “Nick, have you hired that attorney yet?” Emily asked after they rode in silence a few minutes.

  “Not yet.”

  “Have you inquired into getting another detective from the state police post to take over this case?” She wasn’t going to back down on this.

  “I was thinking about deputizing you.”

  “Ha-ha. Let’s also see about getting you a shrink.”

  “I’m serious. You did a great job on the Dobson case.”

  “No, Nick. Tiffani thinks you killed Sandi.”

  “Ridiculous. Based on what proof?”

  “She said Sandi went to your house after you dropped her off. She said you were part of the pack.”

  “She’s lying. Case closed.”

  “Why would she lie?”

  “That’s what we need to find out,” said Nick.

  “And this is why you can’t bring Tiffani in to talk to you about it, isn’t it?”

  “It’s her word against mine.”

  “This is exactly why you need an attorney,” said Emily, feeling the heat rise up her back and into her neck.

  “Sandi never came over that day.”

  “What’s the pack?” asked Emily.

  “A stupid high school urban legend.”

  “Enlighten me. I love a good tale.” The sarcasm spilled over.

  “It was a stupid name designation. It meant nothing.”

  “Were you part of it?” she asked.

  “There was nothing to be part of.” Nick pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw until the muscles flexed. “Was Ross part of the pack?”

  Nick’s silence told Emily what she needed to know. There was more to this pack stuff than he was admitting. And he was still sworn to its secrecy.

  25

  Emily wrestled with sleep all night, unable to quiet her spinning thoughts. How big was this pack, and how many others knew about it? Was Nick afraid he’d lose his job if people found out? And why was Nick afraid to hire an attorney?

  After sickening herself with worry, Emily fell into a half sleep an hour before sunrise. Her cell phone woke her up. She cleared her throat and hit accept. Before she could get out a hello, Jo’s voice spewed from the receiver.

  “I’m absolutely furious right now!”

  “Jo? What happened?” Emily sat up and stretched her legs out.

  “I kicked Paul out last night.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I just learned he was part of the pack.”

  Emily’s stomach lurched. Not Paul, too.

  “I don’t even understand what this whole pack thing is,” said Emily, jolted awake by the news. “Nick refused to tell me anything last night.”

  “Get over here and I’ll tell you everything.”

  * * *

  Emily found Jo in her kitchen hunched over her oak dining room table, staring blankly at the cross-weave fabric of her olive tablecloth. Normally bubbly and upbeat, today Jo had dark, swollen circles under her eyes and faint worry lines etched in her forehead. Jo was barely holding it together. Emily didn’t say hello; she just started a pot of coffee in Jo’s percolator.

  “How did you hear about the pack?” Jo asked.

  “I was with Nick last night visiting Tiffani Parkman at the Silver Slipper.”

  Jo shot a glance at Emily.

  “Yeah. I know. Story for another time. Anyhow, Tiffani mentioned the pack and said that Nick was in it. And that she thought Nick had something to do with Sandi’s murder. When I asked Nick about it, he shut me down.”

  The coffeepot stopped gurgling. Emily poured the steaming coffee into their mugs and brought them to the table. Jo teaspooned sugar into her mug with a shaky hand and stirred. Emily was dying to jump right in with a million questions. Information about this pack could be one of the keys to Sandi’s murder. But she held back until her friend was ready.

  Jo lifted her gaze to Emily only after she had taken several more sips. Then she let it all out.

  “Paul says Nick knew about it but wasn’t really into it—at least not like he and the other guys were.”

  “Nick said it was a name designation. What does that even mean? What did this pack do?”

  “Apparently they had a pact of secrecy. And they did things they shouldn’t … to girls.”

  What? “What kinds of things, Jo?”

  “At first it was stuff like hiding in the girls’ locker room and watching them dress for practice.”

  “Disgusting!”

  “No, it gets worse. They would hide a camera in the locker room after swim practice.”

  “And no one ever knew about this?” Emily felt sick. Had this been going on when she’d been at Freeport High?

  Jo shook her head. “I never knew. None of my friends knew. They would hide cameras on the stairs and film up girls’ skirts.”

  “And what would they do with this footage?”

  “Paul said they just passed it around to each other.”

  “And they never got caught?”

  “Apparently not. Pact of secrecy.”

  “How many in this pack?”

  “I don’t know. Paul wouldn’t budge.”

  Emily ground her teeth.

  “I guess things took a turn during their senior year. James VanDerMuellen wanted to take it to another level. He came to school one day with a super-secret video. It was Sandi having sex with some guy. James cut the frame so they couldn’t see who it was.”

  But Emily knew who. Rosy Ross. She held it back from Jo.

  “I feel sick. And so angry.”

  “Me too. Paul said that if the pack wanted to see it, they had to pay. Pretty soon, he was charging people outside the pack for a view.”

  Disgusting. No wonder Ross had been furious with James. Emily’s heart sank.

  “Paul said that in the video, Sandi looked really out of it. This wasn’t consensual, Em.”

  Emily’s eyes went wide as the sick realization came to her. What if Ross had drugged and raped her and this was all part of the pack’s plan?

  She didn’t know how to respond. It was unthinkable what Sandi had suffered. She must have been so alone in her suffering all those years, hiding her stepdad’s abuse. Then to be betrayed by James and used by Ross. The truth was so filthy and ugly.

  “Why would James do something like that?” said Jo. “His family was rich. He didn’t need the money.”

  “The rich always want more. Money makes them feel powerful. And power breeds the hunger for more power.”

  “He was always so cocky.” Jo made a face. “How far do you think James was going to take this? How many times with Sandi? How many more girls?”

  “He must have known that once she found out, she wouldn’t keep quiet.”

  “I just don’t see pretty-boy James VanDerMuellen actually doing her in,” said Jo.

  “Tell that to every Ted Bundy victim.” Emily raised an eyebrow.

  “I see your point. But James was one of those guys who got other people to do his nasty deeds.”

  Rosy Ross had said the same thing. “Where is James now? Does Paul know?” asked Emily.

  “No.” Jo wetted her lips with her coffee, then in a daze, set the mug back down without taking a sip.

  “Paul knew about all of this, didn’t he?” Emily asked quietly, hoping not to unleash a maelstrom of tears.

  “Yes! And he did nothing! How can I ever let him back in this house as a husband and fath
er? What kind of example is that to my kids?” The fury was taking hold of Jo again, and the blood rushed to her cheeks. “He betrayed me! Almost ten years. I hate him right now! I hate him for doing this to us!”

  The roller coaster of emotions was cresting the hill. Between her punctuated breaths, Jo sputtered out her deepest fear. “And what if … Paul is liable for … conspiracy to kill Sandi? What if … he goes … to jail?” She broke down sobbing.

  Emily wrapped her arms around her best friend. She didn’t want to give her false hope, but she had to say something to get her to calm down. “We’re going to get this figured out. I’m not going to leave you alone. Paul is a good man. A good father. Focus on that for a moment. Okay?”

  “I just blew up. I’ve never, ever gotten that mad before at him, Em. I screamed and yelled. I was throwing clothes at him. The kids ran to their rooms and didn’t come out all night. They’ve never seen us fight like that. It was awful. Really awful,” she said, dabbing her eyes as they began flooding with tears. She took a tissue and tore it to itsy-bitsy shreds.

  “Where are the kids now?”

  “School. But I have to pick up Jaden from preschool at eleven. And look at me!”

  Emily handed Jo a fresh tissue, and she dabbed it under her puffy eyes. “I can pick up Jaden. You take a shower and pull yourself together.”

  Jo nodded and blew her nose into a fresh tissue. “Okay. Thank you.” Her face scrunched into a disconsolate expression, and fresh tears welled up. “What am I gonna tell the kids?”

  Emily’s gut was on the floor. She had no answer for that. “We’ll figure something out.”

  Jo melted into her shoulder and burst out with a fresh round of sobs. Emily hugged her friend as she heaved in despair. After Jo quieted and was able to sit upright and hold her coffee mug again, Emily went in for the bold question she had been dancing around. If there was one thing Jo valued most in any relationship, it was honesty and open communication. And really, she should be asking the same thing about Nick.

  “Do you think Paul is involved somehow in Sandi’s death?”

  Jo drew in a deep breath and answered with slow, weighted words. “That’s the thing. I just can’t fathom …” Her eyes got teary again. “We weren’t even together back then, but still. To know that I married someone who had the capacity to …” The rest of her words got caught in her throat.

  “I don’t mean to scare you by telling you this, but I would advise Paul to get an attorney.”

  Jo nodded, but Emily could tell from the cloudy look in her eyes that common sense was not registering with her right now.

  26

  Emily knocked on Nick’s front door. Paul answered, and Emily met him with a stern look.

  When she saw his face, all she could think of was that if Paul was guilty of collusion in Sandi’s disappearance, then Nick was harboring a criminal. But at best, Nick was taking sides—pinning her and Jo against him and Paul.

  “Nick’s at work,” said Paul, who looked like he hadn’t slept all night.

  “I’m not here for Nick.” Emily brushed past him and inside the house. Paul closed the door and joined her in the kitchen, a bright windowed room that overlooked the lake. The sun was peeking in and out of billowy clouds reflected on the calm lake waters. Peaceful. Serene. Nothing like the storm brewing in Emily. Or Jo.

  “Jo already filled me in on a lot of details, so we’re gonna short-cut this conversation,” Emily started, turning to face Paul, whose brow crinkled in a forlorn look.

  “You saw Jo this morning? How is she? Is she okay?” he said. “Can you please tell Jo that I’m sorry and I want to talk to her?”

  Emily glared at him. Not a chance.

  “Who are the members of the pack, and where can I find them?”

  “How bad does she hate me?” pleaded Paul.

  “Who are they?”

  “Nick’s dealing with it.”

  “What can you tell me about the sex video?” Emily wasn’t about to back down, and she held no empathy for Jo’s husband right now. She bored a look right through him until he slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “I’m not proud of what I did, Emily. I’m mortified. I just didn’t think it was a big deal back then, and …”

  “And you never thought it would come back to haunt you,” Emily finished.

  “I wasn’t even with Jo at the time.”

  “That’s not the point. You stood by and did nothing when a young girl was being sexually exploited. You can work out your marital issues later; right now you need to be concerned about how this looks in light of Sandi’s disappearance and death.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” blurted Paul.

  Emily strutted to the window. “But you didn’t exactly do anything to help her, either. You were part of this, Paul.”

  “Sandi and James were a thing, so I thought she was in on it. I actually thought she was getting paid for it.”

  “Clarify. Paid for what, exactly?”

  “Sex with other guys.”

  “Are you saying James was her pimp?”

  “Anyone with a brain can put two and two together. How else did she get the new phone? Or the designer handbags?”

  “Was anyone else from the pack sleeping with her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Were you?”

  “No.” He answered quickly and defensively. Emily drew her eyes sharply at him and held his gaze to see if he would break it.

  “No,” he said again. “I was not sleeping with Sandi.”

  “Do you know who killed Sandi?”

  “No, Em. Of course not!” he groaned. Emily drew in a long breath. Ross could have fooled Sandi into thinking he cared for her. He could have colluded with James to make the videos with Sandi and sell them. He certainly hadn’t been living in riches. And Sandi would never have been the wiser. It would explain why she looked drugged in the video.

  Emily unlocked her gaze from Paul, and his drifted out the window toward the lake. With shoulders slumping, he moaned, “God, Emily, I was such a stupid kid!”

  “Do the right thing.”

  Paul kept quiet for a moment and clenched his jaw. “We were sworn to secrecy.”

  “That was over ten years ago. Are you telling me that your loyalty is to a bunch of dumb jocks instead of your wife and kids and this community?”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Make a statement to the cops and then give them the other names.”

  “Look, I don’t believe Sandi was a hundred percent the victim here,” said Paul, taking on a more authoritative tone. “She liked the attention. Dating James elevated her from country bumpkin to popular girl.”

  He certainly had changed his tune quickly. “That doesn’t give him the right to film her having sex and sell it around school!”

  His eyes darted to the floor. “I understand that—now.”

  Emily cocked her head at him in dismay. Where was Paul Blakely, the model husband and father? Did he really care more about saving his reputation than his marriage? Jo would be raging with anger if she could hear him right now.

  Paul rose from the table and went out the French doors that led to the deck overlooking the lake. He was acting like a sniveling, stubborn jock. Jo had been justified in kicking him out.

  “If you want any chance at making this right with Jo and this community, you’d better come clean and cooperate with this investigation,” she called out to him.

  Emily marched out the front door. She was shaking with fury as she got into her Nissan Leaf and drove away. What a bungle of events! She tried to imagine how Sandi must have felt when she learned that Nick, her good friend, had discovered her sex tapes were circulating. Confused. Angry. Shamed. Embarrassed. She must have wanted to confront James. And then what? Most likely Sandi would have called James and asked him to come over. James knew Nick would snitch on him. No doubt with this much at stake, he would have wanted to go after Nick. So he showed up at Nick’s house to a
ddress the matter. Maybe he tried to lure Sandi away. Maybe Sandi didn’t want to go? Emily pictured a fight breaking out between James and Nick—with Sandi trying to intervene and … getting caught in the crossfire. A misdirected punch. A violent throw to the floor. And Sandi suddenly dead between them. Neither knowing who had caused the fatal damage. Or one knowing the other had done it, but both were culpable. Was that the secret of the pack?

  27

  Emily bolted home and paced around the house for about an hour, trying to clear her thoughts, but was interrupted when a flower delivery van pulled up. She went outside to meet the driver. He handed her a vase of two dozen long-stemmed white lilies and white roses. Her favorite. The card simply read: You’re always on my mind. Love, Brandon.

  She thanked the driver and took them inside. They overwhelmed the kitchen table but made the room look light and cheery. She wished her spirit felt the same.

  Emily looked at the date on the delivery card. November nineteenth. It had been two months since her engagement day. Immediately her thoughts drifted to Chicago.

  Chicago. Sweet home Chicago. She smiled as the line from the blues song drifted through her mind.

  She texted Brandon a quick thank-you and a picture of the flowers. They were lovely, and had come at just the time she needed a pick-me-up. Here was proof that there was still a lot of beauty to be had in the world. Here was proof that he still cared for her. Here was a glimmer of hope that things could be worked out.

  Emily looked down at her duds. She had worn the same pair of jeans since she’d gotten to Freeport. She could no longer put off a trip to Chicago to pick up her things. She needed sweaters and her winter jacket. She was also missing other sundries and personal items she had left behind in her rush to Freeport.

  Yes, things were heating up with the Parkman case, but there would be no better time. Besides, a trip to Chicago to leave all this behind her for thirty-six hours might provide some clarity and perspective as she sorted through everything Jo had told her.

  Emily texted Brandon. Heading for Chicago shortly. Will you be at the house?

  Technically it was a brownstone. A remodeled, four-story, single-family home that Brandon had bought without her after they’d gotten engaged. A source of irritation. Was it forgivable? Sure. Was it the right way to start a life together? Red flag.