Cast into Doubt

by Patricia MacDonald

  ‘I will,’ said Shelby. But the familiar tide of hopelessness swept over her. Even though she had gotten out of bed only hours before, she felt unbelievably weary. She thanked Perry, and ended the call. Then, she trudged up the stairs to Molly’s room, lay down on the bed, and pulled up the lovely quilt that Chloe had made. Curled into a fetal position, the sun shining brightly on her through the window, she soon fell asleep.

  She was awakened by the sound of the front door opening. Shelby sat up, her heart pounding, feeling completely disoriented. She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t someone bringing Jeremy. It wasn’t time. She tried to get her bearings as she rolled off the bed, and hurried to the top of the stairs. She thought, for a moment, of those detectives who had come by the night they got back looking for an escaped felon. Maybe he was here. Maybe he had come back to the neighborhood. Stop it, she thought. Stop psyching yourself out. Get a grip. She tried to summon an authoritative tone.

  ‘Who is it?’ she demanded. Despite her best efforts, her voice quavered.

  ‘It’s me,’ said Rob.

  ‘Oh my God, you frightened me,’ she said accusingly. She came down the stairs smoothing her hair with one hand.

  Rob was standing in the living room with his arms crossed over his chest.

  ‘What are you doing home from work?’ Shelby asked.

  ‘It’s time you were leaving,’ he said.

  Shelby was taken aback, and somewhat insulted. ‘Why? What’s the matter?’

  ‘I know what you’re up to,’ he said.

  Shelby was perplexed. ‘What I’m up to?’

  Rob shook his head. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t play dumb. I’m talking about your private detective,’ he said.

  Shelby reddened and did not reply.

  ‘Oh, you’re not going to deny it?’ he asked in a taunting tone.

  Shelby’s temper flared. ‘No. Why should I deny it?’

  It was Rob’s turn to be silent.

  ‘I asked a friend to see if he could learn anything more about what happened to Chloe,’ Shelby explained.

  ‘You mean you asked him to find out if I pushed her overboard,’ Rob said accusingly.

  ‘No. I defended you,’ she protested.

  Rob’s laugh was a cynical bark of disgust. ‘Defended me?’

  ‘No. I was thinking that maybe it was someone . . .’ She started to recount her visit from Janice Pryor, but she could see in his eyes that he was not listening. ‘How did you find out about this anyway?’ she asked.

  ‘I got a call at work today. From someone in public relations at Sunset Cruises. Your private detective had called demanding information, and they were calling me to threaten me, basically, to stop harassing them. Of course, it was news to me that there was a private detective involved.’

  Shelby tried to control the tremor in her voice. ‘I asked the head of security at Markson’s to do some background checks on the crew. And to study the surveillance tapes. He also posted a reward for me, for information.’

  Rob held up one hand as if to beg her to stop. ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ he said. ‘You think I’m to blame. Ever since it happened, I’ve known that. Don’t think I didn’t. But you’ve gone too far now.’

  Shelby looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘We’re talking about my daughter’s death here. How far should I go? Pardon me for not accepting the official version of events without question. Come to think of it, how come you do?’

  ‘I want you out of my house,’ he said. ‘I want you out now.’

  Shelby suddenly realized that she might have to leave without saying goodbye to her grandson. ‘What about Jeremy?’ she demanded. ‘He’ll be very upset.’

  ‘I’ll explain it to Jeremy,’ he insisted. ‘Just go.’

  Shelby didn’t know whether to obey him or not. It was his house of course. He could forbid her to see Jeremy. He could cut off her visits with Jeremy, her last link to Chloe, if he wanted to.

  ‘Look,’ she said. ‘Can we just talk this over?’

  The expression in Rob’s eyes was poisonous. ‘Shelby, I never wanted you here in the first place. Out of respect for Chloe’s memory – because I knew she would want me to – I let you stay. But that was before you hired a detective to go sifting through my life, looking for a reason why I killed my wife.’

  ‘I should have told you,’ she admitted. ‘I thought it might upset you. I figured if he found out anything important, I would tell you then.’

  Rob shook his head. ‘At least be honest with yourself,’ he said disgustedly. ‘Admit you blame me for Chloe’s death.’

  ‘No,’ Shelby insisted stubbornly. ‘I just want to get to the truth.’

  ‘I told you the truth. You just don’t want to hear it. Chloe was an alcoholic. Just like your mother. She was doing her best to keep it in the road, but when she got on that ship with a bar every fifteen feet, and all the passengers drinking night and day, she lost it.’

  ‘In other words, if you hadn’t gone on the cruise . . .’ Shelby exclaimed.

  ‘We were fine. We were doing OK. But you wished she’d married some rich husband who could take her on cruises. When I couldn’t afford that kind of nonsense, you gave her the cruise, just to make your point.’

  Shelby shook her head. ‘That is completely not true, Rob. I gave it to you because I remembered what it was like to have a small child and no money to spare. I just wanted you two to enjoy yourselves.’

  Rob shook his head. ‘Go pack.’

  Shelby felt almost physically assaulted but she wasn’t going to argue any more. She was not going to give him the satisfaction. She did not look at him as she started up the stairs to get her things.

  His voice followed her up the stairs. ‘If you’re so busy looking for someone to blame, try looking in the mirror.’

  SIXTEEN

  Once seated in her car, Shelby had tried calling Glen at Talia’s. Talia informed her that Glen had left again. Shelby knew from long experience that it was impossible to call Glen. He bought prepaid cell phones from time to time, but she never had his number. Talia did not ask what she wanted with Glen, or offer to help. Shelby wouldn’t have asked for her sister’s help anyway. She felt as if there was no one in the world she could talk to. No one who would understand.

  She drove home to her apartment. Her hand was shaking so hard as she tried to unlock the door that her keys made a jangling noise. A door opened down the hall and a woman poked her head out. She frowned. ‘Shelby.’

  Shelby looked. ‘Hi Jen,’ she said weakly.

  ‘You look terrible. What’s the matter?’

  Shelby sighed. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘How about coming over for some dinner tonight,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’m going to try this new recipe and it makes enough for six people.’

  Shelby almost said no, but then stopped herself. ‘Thanks,’ she said humbly. ‘That would be great.’

  She let herself in to the silent apartment, unpacked her bag, and ran herself a bath. After a long soak, she got dressed and went to her desk. The photos that Perry had forwarded to her in a file were on her computer. She began to go through them, searching in vain for a face she might recognize. She studied them until her neck ached and her lower back was cramped, and it was time for dinner.

  She went gratefully down the hall to Jen’s apartment, where she had a glass of wine, a complicated veal dish, and forced herself, no matter how Jen urged her to explain, to avoid talking about Chloe, Jeremy, or her son-in-law. Jen agreeably took up the slack, recounting her problems with a Main Line homeowner who wanted the best of everything and didn’t want to pay for it. Shelby felt herself relaxing a little bit, just by being away from her own problems for an hour or two.

  As she walked back into her apartment she heard the phone ringing. The message had just picked up, and she heard a breathless, frightened voice speaking to the voice mail.

  ‘Shelby? This is Darcie.’

  Darcie, she thought? Jeremy’s teacher?
r />   ‘I’m sorry to bother you but the police just called . . .’

  Shelby grabbed up the phone. ‘Darcie,’ she said. ‘It’s me. I’m here. What happened? What’s going on?’

  Darcie swallowed hard, and when she spoke, her voice was shaking. ‘I’m at Rob’s house. He asked me to come over and babysit Jeremy tonight. He said he had to go somewhere. So I came over. When I got there Jeremy was already in bed, asleep—’

  ‘Darcie, is it Jeremy?’ Shelby cried impatiently. ‘Has something happened to my grandson?’

  ‘No, not Jeremy,’ Darcie said miserably. ‘It’s Rob. The police just called. Rob’s been in a terrible accident. He’s at Dillworth Memorial.’

  ‘Is he going to be all right?’ Shelby demanded.

  ‘I don’t know. They wouldn’t say too much because I’m not related to him. But apparently it’s not good.’

  ‘Oh my God. All right. I’m going to go over there,’ said Shelby. ‘Can you stay there with Jeremy a while longer?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Darcie. ‘As long as you need me.’

  ‘Whatever you do, don’t wake him up,’ Shelby said. ‘Let him sleep. He’s had too many shocks already. I’ll come over there as soon as I find out what is going on at the hospital and stay with Jeremy. But I don’t want him to hear this until I’m there with him.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Darcie. ‘Just let me know, OK?’

  ‘I will,’ said Shelby. ‘As soon as I know.’

  Shelby wove through the nighttime city traffic and arrived at Dillworth Memorial in record time. She parked haphazardly and rushed inside. As Shelby burst through the sliding doors into the subdued chaos of the hospital’s emergency room, she realized that, in her haste to get here, she had committed a terrible oversight. Rob had more than one child. Molly needed to be told. Shelby pulled out her phone, ready to call, and then decided to wait, just until she had a little more information. She asked the receptionist where to find her son-in-law, and ran down the hall to the room where she had been directed.

  Three uniformed policemen were conferring outside the room with an older man in a neat jacket and tie. They all looked up at her suspiciously as she approached.

  ‘I’m looking for Rob Kendricks,’ she said.

  ‘He’s in surgery,’ said one of the uniformed cops. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m his mother-in-law. My name is Shelby Sloan. What happened?’

  ‘His mother-in-law?’ the officer asked skeptically.

  ‘I’m his closest relation, I guess. His parents are missionaries in Southeast Asia. His wife, my daughter, just . . . she died recently. Will someone please tell me what happened?’

  The man in the jacket and tie peered at Shelby. ‘I’m Detective Camillo. How did you find out about this?’

  ‘My grandson’s babysitter called me after you called the house. I almost missed the call. I was having dinner with a friend.’

  ‘Your friend will confirm that?’ said Detective Camillo.

  Shelby felt something tighten in her chest. ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Whose? My friend’s?’

  Camillo nodded.

  ‘Her name is Jennifer Brandon. Why? What is going on?’

  The detective exchanged a glance with one of the uniformed cops, who immediately turned away and began to make a call on his radio. Detective Camillo, whey-faced with dark circles under his eyes, looked back at Shelby. ‘Your son-in-law was driving on the Schuylkill Expressway tonight. His pick-up truck was forced off the road and flipped over.’

  ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘He was ejected from the vehicle. He wasn’t wearing a seat belt.’

  ‘I can’t believe this. I hate that road. Everybody speeds on it,’ said Shelby. ‘With all those huge trucks it’s taking your life in your hands just to drive on it . . .’

  Camillo shook his head. ‘So far, we don’t know what kind of vehicle it was. We’re investigating that. It was dark, so the witnesses didn’t see the plates or the make of the car. But we know it wasn’t a truck. And we know it wasn’t an accident.’

  Shelby stared at him. ‘It wasn’t . . . What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean,’ said the detective. ‘It was deliberate. Your son-in-law was forced off the road deliberately.’

  Shelby shook her head, uncomprehending.

  ‘It might have been road rage. Maybe he had a bumper sticker some idiot didn’t like. It could be anything these days. Everybody’s got their middle finger permanently at the ready.’ Detective Camillo shook his head. ‘Nothing surprises me anymore. There’s no civility left. None at all.’

  ‘Deliberate,’ said Shelby.

  Camillo shrugged. ‘We need to know where he was immediately before this took place. He might have been in an argument with someone. At a bar or club, or whatever. Do you know where he went tonight?’

  Shelby shook her head.

  ‘You’re looking a little green, ma’am.’

  ‘I need to sit down,’ said Shelby.

  One of the officers stepped aside and offered her the chair behind him. Shelby sank down into it, trembling.

  A doctor emerged from the nearby room and pulled his cap off his head. He spoke to the detectives, and then, when they pointed Shelby out to him, he came over to her.

  Shelby looked up at him. ‘How is he?’

  ‘He has a lot of internal injuries.’

  ‘But he’ll be all right?’

  ‘Well, I hope so. But, if there’s any other family, you might want to get in touch with them,’ he said.

  ‘Is . . .’ Shelby tried to wet her lips with her tongue. ‘Is he . . . ?’

  ‘Just a precaution.’

  Shelby pulled out her phone and stared at it. She could still see Rob’s angry eyes as he threw her out, furious that she had hired a detective to investigate Chloe’s death. And now, someone had tried to kill Rob. Road rage? An accident? She had heard what the detective said, but what were the chances that it was all a coincidence? First Rob’s wife. Now Rob. Both victims in such a short time. She wanted to call Perry and tell him. Ask him what he thought. But first, Molly. And Rob’s parents. The church would know how to get in touch with them. She would call the church. First, Molly. She thought of calling Molly’s cell phone, but then she decided, as she looked up her address book, to call Lianna instead. This was news that Molly needed to hear from her mother.

  SEVENTEEN

  Twenty minutes later Molly, wearing a jacket over her pajama pants and slippers, arrived, shepherded by Lianna. Molly was bleary-eyed, her face swollen from crying. Lianna was beautiful, even with no makeup and uncombed hair. She wore a trench coat pulled over her sweats.

  ‘Where is he?’ Molly demanded in raw voice. ‘I want to see him.’

  Shelby directed the distraught teenager to a nurse who was passing by. ‘That’s her father in there,’ Shelby said.

  The nurse nodded. ‘Just for a few minutes. He’s not awake. But he can probably hear your voice. He’ll know you’re there.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you, darling?’ said Lianna putting a hand on her daughter’s arm.

  Molly shook off Lianna’s hand and looked at her mother with malice in her eyes. ‘No. Don’t you dare.’

  ‘It’s one person at a time,’ said the nurse.

  ‘I’ll be right here waiting for you,’ said Lianna apologetically.

  Molly did not reply.

  Shelby looked at Lianna questioningly.

  ‘They never forgive you for a divorce,’ she said with a shrug of embarrassment. ‘At a time like this, it’s all my fault.’

  Shelby nodded knowingly. ‘I suppose.’

  Lianna sat down heavily on the chair next to Shelby. She pulled her trench coat tightly around her and looked at Shelby in disbelief. ‘What happened?’

  Shelby shook her head. ‘The police don’t know yet. Somebody ran him off the road. They’re thinking it might have been road rage.’

  Lianna
peered at Shelby. ‘You sound skeptical.’

  Shelby looked back at her frankly. ‘First my daughter. Now Rob.’

  Lianna frowned and pulled at her plump upper lip with her index finger. ‘It is bizarre.’

  ‘It is to me,’ said Shelby.

  ‘You must be utterly wasted,’ said Lianna.

  ‘I am. I dread trying to explain this to Jeremy.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Lianna agreed, shaking her head. ‘This all so unreal. Molly is beside herself. She loves Rob. More than anything.’

  ‘He’s a good father,’ said Shelby.

  Lianna sighed. ‘Yes. He is. I guess we’ll be here for a while.’

  ‘Well, now that you’re here, I’m thinking I’ll head back to their house,’ said Shelby. ‘Rob asked Jeremy’s teacher to babysit and she’s been there for hours. I should probably let her get home. Besides, much as I dread telling him, I don’t want Jeremy to hear this from anyone but me.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ said Lianna.

  Detective Camillo emerged from a room down the hall and walked up to where Shelby and Lianna were sitting.

  ‘This is Detective Camillo,’ said Shelby. ‘He’s investigating what happened.’

  ‘You are . . . ?’ he asked Lianna.

  ‘I’m Rob’s ex-wife,’ said Lianna. ‘Our daughter, Molly, is in there with him now. My husband is parking the car.’

  ‘Where were you tonight, Mrs Kendricks?’

  ‘Mrs Janssen. Well, I was home. With my family. My husband’s a doctor. A neurologist, actually. He often operates at this hospital. Maybe you know him. Harris Janssen? Here he is now.’

  Lianna waved to Harris, who was striding toward them, jingling his keys in his hand. Shelby noticed the glow in Lianna’s eyes as she watched him approach.

  Camillo seemed unimpressed. ‘Did you and your ex-husband get along?’

  Lianna raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. ‘As well as can be expected. For exes.’

  ‘Not that well, then.’

  ‘We each made a new life. And we share a daughter.’ Lianna hesitated. ‘We always will.’

  Detective Camillo looked at her, unsmiling. ‘I hope so, ma’am.’

  Shelby drove back to Manayunk, and, luckily, found a space only half a block from the house. As she walked up to the front door, she saw Darcie holding back the curtain looking anxiously up and down the street. She waved, and Darcie’s tense frame sagged with relief. Shelby let herself in.