CHAPTER 22
"Emily, please let me come home tonight," Mitch pleaded on the phone before he left for work that morning. "I want to talk."
"Great—what time would you like to do that? Because I’m afraid I can’t stay up until twelve waiting for you to grace us with your presence. Actually, maybe I can, I just don’t want to."
"Any time after you get out of work. Over dinner—"
"Wow! That sounds like an actual date, you know those things that real married couples do? That thing I begged you to do with me. But since you thought it would be so much more fun to jerk off over your emails from your mistress, don’t let me steal you away."
"Emily, she’s not my mistress!"
"Oh really? Great, then why don’t you forward all the emails over to me?" Pause. "Yeah, I didn’t think so."
"Emily please, I’m so sorry. Please don’t shut me out. Please don’t take our little girl away from me—"
"Right, because you spent so much quality time with her as it was. You never even saw her during her waking hours."
"So I miss seeing her sleep. I miss giving her a goodnight kiss and tucking the covers around her."
"Well, I’ll take a picture and send it to you, then. But you’ll excuse me, I really have to get to work now." Emily hung up, and Mitch held the phone to his heart and hit his head back on the wall.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Martin said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He had been listening to the whole thing. "What the Hell were you thinking?"
"I’m an idiot, okay? Have you not known that all these years?"
Martin sipped his coffee. "I guess I didn’t think it was a permanent condition. Especially since you managed to snag yourself such a smart—and hot—little wife. You know, why go looking for more if you had that at home?"
"First of all, don’t talk about my wife being hot—"
"Yeah, I can stop. But what about everyone else, now that she’s available?"
"She’s not available. And second of all, I didn’t go looking for anything. Kyra found me."
"How?"
"She did a search for me and found me on the new hires page of my firm."
"Ah," Martin said, rubbing his cup. "Who knew that girl could be so resourceful?"
"Martin, her life’s a mess, alright? What else is new? I felt sorry for her, so I wrote back. And then she wrote back. And then we kept going back and forth." He rubbed his temples. "And then it started getting a little suggestive, and then it started getting explicit."
"What is wrong with you?"
"It’s just email—it’s just words."
"So why not send those words to your wife?"
"Because she’s always so mad at me!" Mitch said in frustration. "I wasn’t there enough when she was pregnant, I didn’t help enough with Hellie. We never did enough together. She never understood that I was working so hard so we didn’t have to be in that tiny little studio I never should have moved us into. She didn’t care that I was exhausted and stretched and was doing everything for her and Hellie. And I was mad too."
"So you deserved an affair?"
"It wasn’t an affair!"
"Yeah, okay, if you say so. So you wouldn’t mind if she did the same thing with some ex of hers?"
"She hates all of them."
"So can I send her some hot emails?" Mitch glared. "Or maybe Richard? I mean, sounds like he’s sort of on the market now, and so is she—"
"She is not on the market or otherwise available! She is my wife, and don’t go sending her anything."
"And it’s not okay why?"
"Because I know nothing’s going to happen if I get some stupid email!"
"Or if you send it back." Martin took a deep breath. "Dude, do you not remember how long it took for you to even get to talk to her after you got back from Ireland? Do you remember how hard you had to work to get a real date with her? Didn’t she tell you off after she found you with Kyra?"
"Why do you think I married her so quickly?"
"This is a smart, jealous woman. What were you thinking? If you don’t want to be married anymore, why don’t you just get to the point and ask for a divorce?"
"I don’t want a divorce, Martin!"
"Then maybe you should act like you want what you have, or that you have what you want."
"Thanks Doctor Phil—any other words of wisdom to fix my life?"
Martin slammed his mug down, splashing coffee on the counter. "For God’s sake, Mitch! Get some perspective and stop whining. Your wife kicked you out because you were virtually cheating, whether you want to admit it or not. And Richard lost his girlfriend, and Miranda’s weird ex-husband has been skulking around Boston. Oh, yeah—some rich woman had a closeted affair with your wife’s old boss, and Mister Moneybags is a blackmailing pimp. Big God damned deal! Jessie is the one who found out through some pig—older than me—that her mother died a horrible death. You can fix your stupid messes—every single one of you sniveling brats—but she can’t. And just so we’re clear, all of you also caused your own problems."
Mitch tried not to laugh. Martin wasn’t given to outbursts. And he was right. "Why don’t you call her?"
"Speaking of causing your own problems…I’m sure she’d just love to hear from me now too."
Mitch didn’t have a definite answer. It could probably go either way. "Jessie could probably use a friend right now."
"I wouldn’t want her to think...I don’t know what to do." He wiped up the coffee on the counter. "But let me tell you, I’d better not ever see that cop."
~~~
Jessie arrived at Doctor Wolfe’s office at ten. It was usually the time that she would be sitting in Professor Hazlett’s class, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be going back there.
She sat on the couch, kicking her legs back and forth. She looked at Doctor Wolfe’s longish ash blond hair and overly smooth face. There was something about him that usually annoyed her, but this morning she found him half-comforting.
"So why don’t you tell me what happened two nights ago?"
"Short version? The TA I was so proud of myself for scoring was really a cop, the aunt I thought was just a cold inattentive bitch is really a self-hating lesbian and the one person I have always been able to count on has been stepping out on his saint of a girlfriend. Then there was just fun stuff about Mitch cheating on Emily—but he’s such a loser he can’t even do that for real—and, oh yeah, that creep Alex Sheldon blackmailing my aunt into marrying Richard’s father. After he found out from my beloved father, who first blackmailed my current professor into bed. Oh, right—how did I forget this part? Looks like my mom is the one who killed my dad, but only because he was beating her and then me. But of course my mother’s killer remains at large."
Doctor Wolfe shook his head as he scribbled. "I’m sorry, I just want to understand. Your father told this Alex person about your aunt and your professor, slept with your professor, married your mother, and abused her and you?"
"No, I’m sorry—one more thing. He also raped my mother on their first date, which wasn’t supposed to be a date. And nine months later—voila—me."
Doctor Wolfe raised his eyebrows. It was the first time she’d ever seen him betray any emotion. "And how do you know that any of this is true?"
"Because Richard wouldn’t lie to me," she said with some annoyance. "He saw my mother and me. Right before my father died. He said we’d been beaten up pretty badly. He hid me while my parents were away, and by the end of the weekend my father was dead."
"How old was your cousin at that time?"
"Twelve."
"And you’re sure he—Richard—remembers it accurately?"
"Richard doesn’t generally talk out of his ass, if you’ll excuse me."
"But Richard isn’t always truthful, is he? Didn’t you just say he was cheating on his girlfriend?"
"That’s different."
"Did she know? Did they have some kin
d of arrangement?"
"No, she’s not like that."
"So how do you know he isn’t lying to you also?"
"Because it’s a different kind of a lie."
"Where did you pick that up?"
"Richard is not lying to me, Doctor Wolfe!"
"All right. We’ll leave that alone for now." He scribbled something else in his notes. Now she was annoyed. "And how do you know that this part about what your professor said is true?"
"Because Alex didn’t deny it."
"Is this Alex an honest person?"
"He’s a lying scumbag. I have no idea—none whatsoever—what Miranda sees in him."
"Miranda Harel?"
"Yes."
Doctor Wolfe scribbled again. "I see. And why do you believe him?"
"My father bragged about screwing my aunt’s gay lover. Alex used that information to blackmail my aunt into marrying my uncle. So my uncle’s father would give him a lot of money." Jessie stuck her chin out for emphasis, but Doctor Wolfe didn’t move. "I don’t know why you would admit any of that was true unless it was, because it makes you sound really bad. Especially to Miranda."
"Miss Harel was upset?"
"I’m not sure she’ll ever speak to him again. So maybe some good came of this after all."
"How do you feel about all of this? About your father?"
"I’m glad he’s dead," she seethed. "He hurt my mother, my aunt—he even pushed my cousin around—I’m glad he’s gone."
Doctor Wolfe smiled sympathetically. "And how do you feel about the way you were born, if you accept what was said?"
Jessie waited for almost a minute before she spoke. "I don’t understand why my mother didn’t have an abortion," she said at last. "If someone raped me, beat me, and I got pregnant, I wouldn’t keep it. I’d get it out of me as soon as I could."
"So why do you think your mother kept you?"
"Maybe she thought I could be proof of what he did to her," she said hopefully. "Maybe she was going to do something like get him put in prison."
"Is that what you think?"
"No," she said bitterly. "I think she kept me because she was stupid. Maybe she was religious, but I don’t remember anything about that. So she was just stupid."
"Maybe she loved you," Doctor Wolfe said quietly.
"I wasn’t worth loving," Jessie said quietly. Her eyes filled with tears. "I kept her with him. He must have—he must have threatened her. He must have threatened me. That’s why she married him. She thought she was giving me a better life, or she was just afraid. And it was stupid. If she’d just gotten away, she wouldn’t have gotten killed. She’d be alive right now."
"Jessie," Doctor Wolfe said gently. "How do you know what would have happened? How do you know someone else wouldn’t have stabbed her later?"
"Because I just do," Jessie said, as if she were looking into the distance. "She’d be alive if it weren’t for him."
Doctor Wolfe took a deep breath. "Do you remember something?"
She nodded after a moment. "A lot of blood."
"I see." He wrote something else down. "Jessie, I think we should talk about what else you remember."
CHAPTER 23
Zainab was working the morning shift that day. The pharmacy was unusually busy. She didn’t even notice Robert in line until his turn came.
She sighed. "This isn’t a good time. We’re a little busy right now. Maybe I could meet you when my shift is over."
"This is part of an active police investigation," he said sternly. "I would really appreciate it if you could step aside for a few minutes."
Zainab pulled her supervisor aside. Robert flashed his badge, and the supervisor nodded her head. Zainab came around the counter. "Would you like to talk in the back room?"
"There is actually a little diner right around the corner. This might take a little while."
"Fine."
Once at the diner, Robert ordered coffee and eggs. Zainab shook her head, but sipped the water when it arrived. "What can I do for you, Detective?"
"Call me Robert."
"Robert, what can I do for you?"
He stabbed at his egg. "I understand you left Mister Hendrickson’s house?"
"I did," Zainab said evenly.
Robert nodded. "And where are you staying now?"
"I’m not sure how that’s pertinent to your investigation."
"You had direct access to the victim. It’s good to know your whereabouts while we’re still looking for the perp."
"I’m sorry, am I suspect?"
"Not exactly, but like I said, it’s just good to know where you are."
"I see," Zainab said before she took another sip of water. "If that’s the case, then I think I need to get a lawyer before I answer any questions. One you don’t have any dirt on."
Robert looked at her. She didn’t show any emotion. He smiled. "You caught me. I’d just like to make sure that you’re alright."
"Is your conscience bothering you?"
"Not at all. At the very least, you deserved to know that your boyfriend was cheating on you."
"Are you expecting a thank you?"
"No. But I...regret that you were dragged into that. I wasn’t trying to ruin your life."
"You didn’t. For the official record, I’m staying with Emily Graham. And since I’m sure you’re going to ask if you haven’t already had him followed yet, Mitch is staying with his friend Martin."
"I actually did know that."
"Was that all?"
"No. I also wanted to know...how Jessie is doing."
"You are not entitled to ask or know."
"Did I mention the murder investigation?"
"Did I mention the guilty conscience?"
Robert sat back. "Pretend you’re right. Knowing that she was okay still wouldn’t exonerate me, would it?"
"She’s fine. Or she will be. She has a lot of people who love her."
"I’m glad to hear it."
"Did your boss get any calls yesterday?"
"No."
"Well-played."
"I don’t feel any guilt about Alex Sheldon or Lucy Hendrickson. They ruin people’s lives without a second thought."
"How does that feel exactly?"
"I thought you said I didn’t ruin your life."
"You didn’t. And you didn’t ruin Jessie’s either. But Helen Graham might be a different story. You know who that is, right? Two days ago she had two parents living under the same roof. Maybe neither of them is perfect, but they love her. And they loved each other."
"Is it my fault Mitchell Graham cheats over email?"
"Of course not. But that has nothing to do with Jessie’s stalker or her parents’ killers. You just wanted your ass covered. Same thing with Richard—you know he didn’t do anything to his cousin or his aunt."
"Why are you still defending him?"
"Because he’s a good man."
"I think he’s a fool."
Zainab didn’t blink. She sipped her water again. "Alright, then. So are you going to tell me, or are we going to play more games first?"
"Tell you what?"
"Where is Drew Sharpe?" She took a deep breath. "And where is Joe Welles?"
He sat up and traced the line of his coffee cup. "You and Emily don’t have anything to worry about."
"Where is Drew?"
"Mister Sharpe is currently sitting in jail for distribution and trafficking in New Jersey. He went there last year, and he was caught within a few weeks. Very amateur. Very easy to catch, and easy to turn."
"How long?"
"With behavior and consideration, I’d say five years at least."
Zainab nodded. "Thank you. Emily will be pleased."
"Do you want to know about Mister Welles?"
"If you say I don’t have to worry, that’s all I need to know."
He tightened his jaw. "Why didn’t you report that?"
"Because I didn’t have any proof."
"So why did he leave?"
Zainab shook her head. "I’m sorry, but I really will need a lawyer before I answer that."
"Which tells me at least that you’re protecting someone."
"Why didn’t you do this two nights ago?"
"It wasn’t anyone’s business."
"Neither, really, was Lucy’s affair with Joanna Hazlett."
He shrugged. "You’re not like them," he said quietly. "You don’t try to hurt people."
"And Emily?"
"I don’t think I like her very much, but I appreciate that she’s a good friend." He inhaled. "I have a pretty good idea of what happened three and a half years ago. Looks like she went to the mat, no matter the cost." He smiled a little. "But you’re different, aren’t you?"
"Are you going to leave Emily—and Miranda—alone?"
"Unless I find evidence that either of them is sending the notes to Jessie."
"I can pretty much guarantee that they aren’t. That lullaby isn’t really their style." Zainab looked at her watch. "I’m sorry, but I really do have to go."
Robert stood up and threw some cash on the table. "I’ll walk you back."
CHAPTER 24
Alex met Miranda at seven that night at the Wang Center. He’d been nervous about seeing her, but he forgot all of that as soon as he saw her walk in. He shared Emily’s assessment. She looked like a goddess. Her hair was up and she was wearing a red column sheath with v-neck straps and a matching shawl.
She blushed when he looked at her. "Hello Alex."
He took her hand and kissed it, not taking his eyes off of her. "You look even more beautiful than you usually do."
She smiled. "Thank you."
"I was so happy that you agreed to come out with me after...everything."
"We still need to talk about that."
"Of course. I’ll tell you anything you want."
She nodded. "Good. After the play."
He smiled. Tonight he was, once more, a man who could not believe his luck. "Should we go upstairs to the reception?" he asked. "We have a little while before we need to be seated."
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