Domestic Secrets

by Rosalind Noonan

  And now Rachel had turned out to be a psycho, too, expecting Ariel to do the impossible. Jared had killed her girl. No way was she granting him forgiveness. He could rot in his own teen angst.

  But first, she would seduce him one last time. Nice and slow. And then she would take one of those knives he carried around, a long, brutally sharp knife like the one that she had thrown out the window. She would tease him with it and then . . . one deep thrust. The last.

  Before sunrise the next morning, Rachel was pacing in front of the store, willing the glass repair man to find the right-sized window in his inventory, when her cell phone rang. It was Cassie.

  “You’ve got to come over, Aunt Rachel.”

  The old nickname tugged at Rachel’s heart.

  “I—I can’t talk about it on the phone,” Cassie went on. “Can you come over?”

  “What is it, honey?” A new wave of panic washed over Rachel. “Do you need an ambulance?”

  “No, no, I need you to help me talk to Ariel. I can’t do this alone anymore.”

  The strain in her voice stirred Rachel. She glanced over at the repairman, who seemed a little annoyed by her anxiety. He would probably be relieved to have her out of his hair. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right over.”

  Ariel’s studio seemed stale and empty in the stark light, but Rachel followed Cassie into the hollow room. “Is your mom around?” she asked as the heels of her sandals clicked on the wooden floor. “How about the kids?”

  “Everyone is in bed. Eli will have the kids up for school soon. Mom will spend most of the day in her new hermitage.” She plopped onto the yellow velvet sofa and propped her laptop on her thighs. “Thanks for coming over. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Oh no.” The shattered window loomed in Rachel’s mind, but she didn’t want to burden Cassie with that. In this town, she would hear soon enough. “I’m not sleeping a lot these days.” She settled on the sofa next to Cassie. “So what’s going on?”

  “Some of the stuff you said yesterday really threw me. Like when you said Remy and Jared were seeing each other?”

  Rachel nodded. “Right. And?”

  “And, no disrespect, Aunt Rachel, but if Jared told you Remy was his girlfriend, he was lying to you.”

  Rachel wasn’t offended, but she wasn’t ready to buy Cassie’s theory.

  “Remy was seeing someone else,” Cassie insisted. “A kid from Gleetime. You might know him—Isaiah Denton? I think he was on the football team.”

  “I do know him.” Rachel remembered how Isaiah kept a level head when Cooper was having a tantrum. “But why do you think he was involved with Remy?”

  “I did some more poking around in Remy’s files, looking on her computer and through the selfies on her cell phone. I found these photos of her with Isaiah.”

  Though skeptical, Rachel took a look at the pictures. From the way Remy leaned into Isaiah’s broad chest, smiles lighting both of their faces, there was no denying the affection between them. “I see what you mean.” Her resolve dissolved to shock as Rachel stared at another photo of Remy planting a smooch on Isaiah’s broad jaw. “But I don’t understand. Jared had a girlfriend. I know he did.” She flashed back to those days. There were tangible signs like condoms disappearing from his room, as well as his improved attitude. She had begun to hear him singing in the shower. “And that night when he didn’t come home?” Rachel turned to Cassie. “I saw him coming from your house.”

  “Yeah. About that.” Cassie took her phone from her pocket and scrolled through a few pages. “That was the night of the broken vase. Here’s the photo Remy sent me.”

  Rachel frowned as they both peered at a photo of the piano that sat a few feet away from them, only in the picture it was covered with shattered crystal.

  “We thought that Stosh smashed the vase, but that was our mistake. Now, in retrospect, I think Jared did it.”

  “What?” Rachel squinted in disbelief. “Why would Jared break Ariel’s prized possession?”

  “Because he was mad at my mom for going home with Craig Schulteis. Jared was jealous and mad, thinking he might lose her to the drama teacher.”

  Rachel’s heart sank. “You’re telling me that my son was involved with your mother?”

  “I’m sure about it now,” Cassie went on. Rachel was shaking her head, wanting Cassie to stop, but the girl was on a roll. “Yeah, I know it’s really sick, but it’s the stinking truth. Jared and Ariel were hooking up. Ariel was Jared’s secret girlfriend, not Remy.”

  Rachel pressed a hand to her mouth as she tried to swallow back the onslaught of disgust and hatred. “Ariel and Jared? Oh, God no.” How could her friend betray her that way? Violating her boy, sneaking around with him, taking his innocence when he should have been exploring with young women his own age, women in his peer group.

  Not a woman who had been a second mother to him.

  “Poor Jared.” Rachel let out a breath, floored by Ariel’s actions. She had crossed a line, ventured too far. This time, there would be no repairing the damage.

  Lolling like a wounded animal, Rachel took a deep breath. She had to pull herself together; she was supposed to be here to support Cassie. Bracing herself for more, Rachel lifted her gaze. “You’ve done your research, Cass. So do you have evidence to prove they were an item?”

  “A couple of compromising photos. Actually, Remy saved a lot of photos of Ariel getting frisky with the Gleetime boys. Makes me wonder what she was really doing behind closed doors in here for the past few years.”

  Rachel groaned. “Those poor kids. I’m sure a few of them felt pressured.”

  “There’s one video that Remy took. She was recording a rehearsal of ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ but afterward she left the camera running.” Cassie clicked a few times on the computer, then turned the screen to Rachel. “Just saying, it’s pretty bad.”

  Again, Rachel braced herself as the drama unfurled: the ending of the brilliant song, the mundane, teasing conversation that gave way to something earthy and wanton.

  “What is it about you bad boys that makes sex so good?” Ariel’s kittenish voice oozed with seduction.

  “It’s because you can’t get enough of me,” Jared said, taking the bait.

  “Good Lord!” A sickening feeling tugged at Rachel’s gut, and her shock gave way to revulsion as the guttural noises of lovemaking filled an excruciating minute. It dragged on until Ariel cursed, and the camera was turned off.

  Cassie closed the frozen image from the video. “I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard for you to see.”

  “At least it’s giving me a sense of what Jared was dealing with . . . where his mind was.” Revulsion left a bitter taste in her mouth as she considered that this could have been going on for quite some time. “She’s a sexual predator, going after kids.” She pressed her fingertips to her temple to ward off the acute tension there. “How long has this been going on? Obviously, she seduced Jared when he was underage.... When he was seventeen. But how long? Did it happen when he was even younger?”

  “That I don’t know.” Cassie cocked her head to one side and closed the laptop. “But the bitch is right upstairs. I think it’s time we find out.”

  It was just after eight a.m. when Cassie led Rachel up the stairs. Armed with the truth and ready to strike, Cassie flung open the door of the master bedroom.

  “Time to wake up, Mom. Rachel’s here.”

  “I’m awake.” Ariel’s body in repose looked peaceful, except for her wide-open eyes, glowing and bulbous in the dim room.

  Cassie went to the window and cast the curtains aside, letting in a stream of sunlight. “It’s a beautiful day for an intervention.”

  “Over what? You took my pills. And there’s nothing left to drink in this house. But I’ll bet Eli has more weed.”

  “Never mind that. Rachel and I have some questions. Some stuff that we’re wondering about.” Cassie turned to Rachel, who was uncharacteristically quiet. The bomb Cassie had dropped had
knocked the wind out of her. It was up to Cassie to forge ahead.

  “The thing is, that night when the vase on the piano was shattered, Aunt Rachel saw Jared leaving the house. I know, I know, everyone jumped to conclusions about him hooking up with Remy. But that was wrong. I know from the photos on Remy’s cell phone that she was into one of the football players. That black kid with the big smile.”

  “Isaiah Denton,” Rachel offered.

  Ariel pushed herself up to lean against the headboard. “Isaiah?” Her nightgown drooped drunkenly over one shoulder. “I didn’t know she liked him.”

  “Well, she did.” One of Remy’s friends, Sophia, had confirmed it.

  “That means that the night Rachel saw Jared sneaking out of here, he wasn’t with Remy.” Cassie watched her mother for a reaction, but Ariel didn’t flinch.

  “So, what? He was probably just . . . hanging out with her or something.”

  “Yeah.” Trying to keep it casual, Cassie pushed back some clothes on the upholstered chair and sat down. “But I don’t think so. Actually, probably not, because Isaiah was here with Remy.”

  “No, he was not,” Ariel insisted.

  “How would you know?” Rachel said. “You got home late from Craig Schulteis’s house. I remember that night like it was yesterday.”

  “You went home with Mr. Schulteis,” Cassie said slowly, “and then what? You came home and the vase was broken because Jared . . . Jared was upset with you. He was jealous, because he thought you hooked up with Mr. Schulteis.”

  “Which I didn’t,” Ariel insisted.

  “Because you were having sex with my son.” Rachel’s sibilant voice was loaded with fury, each word a quiet barb. It snapped Ariel to attention and seemed to suck the air out of the room.

  “What kind of trash are you talking now?” Ariel said in a singsong voice designed to lighten the tension.

  “I am talking about my son, my baby. And you seduced him. You had an affair with my kid, Ariel.”

  “You are so wrong,” Ariel said, sincerity swimming in her green eyes. “I would never do that.”

  “You did,” Cassie said. “Apparently, more than once. I’ve got it on videotape on Remy’s computer. That time in the studio when the camera was recording during ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ and it kept recording?”

  Ariel folded her arms and sank down against the headboard. “All right. Fine. We had a thing. But it wasn’t my doing, and he’s eighteen. So you can think what you want and condemn me and give me that pissy look of disapproval, but your son was an adult man making his own choices. You can’t stop a boy from growing up, Mom.”

  “He just turned eighteen!” Rachel growled, her jaw set in fury. “You took advantage of my boy.”

  Cassie had never seen them fight. She half expected Rachel to lunge forward and slap Ariel in the face, but instead she turned away and pressed her hands to the dresser, as if the scattered jewelry and coins there were mesmerizing.

  “Tell me.” Rachel’s voice was husky. Was she crying? “How did it start?”

  “It was all very innocent in the beginning. He started it, of course, and I, well, at first I went along with it to build up his confidence during a difficult time for him. All that stress over football. Those assholes on the team. And you weren’t available. Not your fault, but you were dealing with Jackson’s diagnosis. A difficult time. But I made it better for Jared.”

  Cassie squinted at her mother. Really? This had been going on for three or four years? Since the time that Jared was bullied by those football players?

  “Rachel, I swear, I tried to end it out of respect for you. And he stayed away when I started seeing Stosh. He knows I’m a one-man woman. But after Stosh and I broke up, Jared kept pressuring me, staying after lessons or coming over late at night, and I had trouble denying him. He’s a very deep person. Dark and edgy. But I had no idea how disturbed he was. He became infatuated . . . obsessed with me, and honestly? I liked the attention. But I knew we were on dangerous ground.” Ariel pressed her hand to her chest. “I was the one with a reputation at stake.”

  Cassie wasn’t buying it, but she let her mother ramble on. “Jared wanted to continue our relationship, reasoning that it would be somewhat socially acceptable once he graduated high school. He’s a very determined person. Stubborn under that mild façade. And he kept pointing out that it was all going to be legal once his birthday came around. He’s eighteen now and, honestly, he couldn’t wait to be out from under your control.”

  “You’re full of shit,” Cassie interrupted. “You seduced him when he was a freshman. That’s not so legal. Not to mention the other boys from Gleetime that you hooked up with.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw it in Remy’s photos. Jared wasn’t the first Gleetime boy, and some of them were definitely under eighteen.”

  “Cassandra,” Ariel hissed. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Just speaking the truth.”

  “Which is all relative. The world according to Cassie,” Ariel said with a sneer. “You think you’re in love because some guy finally hit you in the bloomers. Really. Don’t count on anything. He’ll drop you like an old used tissue.”

  “Oh, fuck off.” With a scowl, Cassie tugged a blanket from behind her and leaned back in the chair. Ariel could be such a bitch.

  “That’s enough.” Rachel turned around and leaned on the footrest of the bed. “I’m not going to stand here while you vilify your daughter.”

  Ariel swept one hand toward the door. “Then you’re free to go.”

  “I’m here for our children. For Remy and Cassie. For my son, who was young and impressionable enough to be wrapped around your finger. Caught in your fucking witch spell. I need to know about Jared. I need to know why he stabbed Remy.”

  “As if I know.” Ariel pulled the covers toward her and focused on turning back the sheet. “He’s your son. You should know what presses his buttons.”

  “He was your lover,” Rachel responded. “And I’m not leaving here until you tell me what made him freak out.”

  Rachel stood her ground as Ariel vacillated and postured, portraying herself as the lonely widow, explaining that the boys she had bedded from Gleetime had lifted her spirits after Oliver died. She claimed that no one understood what it was like to suffer suburbia when you had an urban mentality. She lamented over the terrible waste of her talents, stuck here giving voice lessons to gawky teens.

  Like a marooned mariner waiting for the tide to come in, Rachel waited. None of this was new material. She had suffered Ariel’s stories of discontent for nearly fifteen years. This, today, would be the last time.

  “You’ve got a million excuses for yourself,” Rachel said. “But I still need to know what set Jared off.”

  Ariel pulled the covers up to her chin, her eyes shiny green stones. “It was you, actually. He freaked out when you saw him leaving here in the early morning.”

  Sure. Try to blame it on me, Rachel thought, her eyes steady on Ariel.

  “Jared was sure we were caught. But then you assumed he was seeing Remy, and Jared figured it would be a good idea to play along. I wasn’t really into it at first. And then I ran into Tootsie Dover.”

  Another person to blame, Rachel thought, letting out a whisper of breath. But she kept her mouth shut. She couldn’t afford to alienate Ariel now.

  “Tootsie got in my face. She said that Remy couldn’t find a date for prom. She claimed that was why she was going alone. Can you imagine anyone thinking that? Remy was a beautiful girl.”

  Physical beauty had always been important to Ariel. Rachel cast a sidelong glance at Cassie, whose worth had always been diminished in Ariel’s eyes. But the comment didn’t seem to faze her.

  “Tootsie made it sound like my daughter was hopeless without her fat-assed son to save her. That did it. Tootsie pushed me to the edge. I had to do something.”

  “So I told Jared to ask Remy to prom. I figured it would kill two birds with one st
one. It was going to be a good cover for our relationship, and it would show that bitch that my daughter was desirable. Jared’s star was on the rise after the showcase. Guys finally accepted him. Girls fell for him. I saw those little girls watch him onstage with stars in their eyes. They wanted him. I wanted him. So I promised him to find a way to see more of each other if we could get through to graduation. He had already enrolled in community college, and—”

  Ariel pulled her knees up to her chest, her face lit with a daydream. “I couldn’t wait to tell Tootsie about Remy and Jared. She was going to eat her words. And it should have worked.” She scowled. “Remy was going with her friends, and I figured she would jump at the chance to have Jared pay for everything. I told Jared to sell it as a free night. I never thought Remy would say no to a prom date. And I never thought he would snap like that.”

  “You selfish bitch.” And this woman had pretended to be Rachel’s friend.

  “I’m not responsible for your son’s lunatic behavior,” Ariel protested. “How was I to know he’d turn violent?”

  “He killed Remy for you.” Cassie sat upright in the chair. “He was so afraid of losing you because he couldn’t deliver Remy as his prom date. And then, when Remy let on that she knew about the two of you, he must have thought she had to be stopped, or else he would lose you. I think he had the knife in his hand, and he struck her down—a knee-jerk reflex. All because he was afraid of losing you.”

  Ariel grunted, rubbing the back of her neck. “Here’s the lesson in that. Men do crazy things when it comes to defending their territory.” She looked up, straightening her shoulders so that her breasts were two perfect round points beneath her nightgown. “I’m just one of those women cursed to drive men to do crazy things.”

  “Oh my God!” Cassie clapped her hands over her ears. “You keep making this about you, Mom!”