Peter leaned in close. “Your little story doesn’t hold water, Kiki. Hank had no reason to care.”
“Of course he did! Veronica was pregnant. She was going to have Sam’s baby. Your family couldn’t have a little Sam running around town if big Sam was in the picture, could they? What if Sam sued for custody? Then the Evertons might call off the wedding. Your parents didn’t want the embarrassment of an illegitimate grandbaby, did they? That would be hard to explain to all their friends at the Yacht Club. Oh, and Veronica didn’t want to marry outside her station. So she and Hank took care of the problem. They eloped rather than waiting to get married. Then they couldn’t be forced to testify against each other.”
He stared at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Peter bowed his head. A deep, low sigh came from him. “Yeah, that’s right. Look, I’m tired, tired of keeping their secrets.”
A part of me felt indescribably sad.
I was sad for Sam, sad for Mrs. Rosenbaum, and furious with Veronica and Hank for asking Peter, the gentler of the two brothers, to keep their secret.
The man in the booth behind Peter stood up and walked slowly over to my side.
“I’m Detective Chad Detweiler,” he said, flashing his badge at Peter. “How about if you come with me down to the station and make a statement?”
“Why should I? What sort of trick is this, Kiki?” Peter slammed his fist on the table.
“Sam Rosenbaum’s mother deserves to know what happened to her son,” I said quietly. “She’s still grieving and she can’t get closure. I know you, Peter. Deep down inside, you are a good and decent man. Nothing can bring that boy back, but his mother deserves answers.”
Peter clenched his hands. His face was turning a dangerous shade of red. “You tricked me!”
“You’re a father,” I said, while Detweiler stood there motionless. “Wouldn’t you want to know? What if it was Reggie? This is a chance to make things right.”
Peter’s shoulders drooped, and he stared at his empty martini glass, but he said nothing. Detweiler and I waited. The room seemed very, very quiet.
“Make things right,” Peter mumbled.
I sighed, feeling tension drain from my body. Veronica and Hank had gotten away with murder, but at least this was something. They couldn’t be forced to testify against each other, but Peter’s confession could re-open the case. Maybe others would step forward to corroborate his story. There would be closure for Mrs. Rosenbaum. She would know what happened to her son, and why. The puzzle pieces had finally come together.
Chapter 13
Everything had gone exactly as we had planned. Detweiler kept his eyes on me and mouthed, “You did a good job” while he helped Peter to his feet. I paid our bill. With Detweiler at his elbow, Peter started toward the front door. His demeanor spoke of relief and I felt the same. Now poor Mrs. Rosenbaum could properly mourn her son, and I could finally put that horrible summer behind me.
Detweiler paused at the front door and turned back to look at me. This time he said, “We’ll talk later, Kiki. This might be a long evening.”
I understood, but I planned to wait up for him.
With Detweiler’s help, I’d managed to trick Peter into admitting Sam hadn’t stolen the Jepsen boat, hadn’t sailed off by himself, and hadn’t accidently drowned. I was at peace with myself knowing that Veronica and Hank would at the very least be embarrassed and exposed for the low-lifes they were. At best, they might be convicted of murder.
The three of us walked out into a soft rain that muffled the lights in the parking lot. The dark felt thick and comforting. The two men walked slowly to Detweiler’s police car, while I brought up the rear. After Detweiler opened the passenger side door, he and I exchanged looks of relief. When we ran through our plans, we had worried that Peter might fight the cop or try to make a run for it. Instead, Peter climbed in and rested his head in his hands. Detweiler leaned over and gently reminded him to buckle his seatbelt.
It should have ended there, with Peter making a statement that would incriminate his brother and sister-in-law and Detweiler notifying the Hingham Police Department that they should reopen the case.
Yes, it should have ended there, but it didn’t.
As he fumbled with the seatbelt, the last pieces of Peter Jepsen’s resolve crumbled, and he couldn’t hold his tongue.
“Kiki?” he called to me. “Kiki, I didn’t know what Hank had planned when he asked me to go with him to the marina. Honest. I didn’t know!”
--The End--
Joanna Campbell Slan is the national bestselling and award-winning author of thirty books, as well as being a contributor to many of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books. When she isn’t walking the beach with her Havanese pup, Jax, she’s writing books for one of her three mysteries series and building dollhouses. Joanna and her husband David live on Jupiter Island, Florida.
Visit her website, JoannaSlan.com. You can read two of Joanna’s books for free by going to http://bit.ly/teardownanddie and http://bit.ly/inkreddead.
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