by B. Groves
She would visit that person after she spoke with Mac.
Claire answered but kept the conversation short.
Claire knew after she had hung up the phone with Mac that she sounded too chipper. She was never a good liar. She always said if she were ever arrested, she would be the type to confess everything before a lawyer told her to shut up.
He would have to deal with it, she thought. She would explain it all later. She needed a few more hours and all would be revealed.
She silently apologized to her brother’s remains, feeling like she was imitating her grandmother. Again, he was being left alone inside that hideous basement. People would say she was crazy like Rose but wasn’t this whole situation already crazy?
Claire walked away from the door convincing herself it wouldn’t be much longer and she could lay her brother to rest.
Claire looked up Jack’s address with her laptop. It was easy to find his house, and after entering the address into her GPS, Claire was on her way over there.
Claire pulled up to a small, but elegant looking home tucked in a private area on top of a hill. She frowned, wondering why Jack would drive so far to hang out at the bakery. She timed the drive as thirty minutes from her house, and she lived only three miles from the coffee shop.
Claire sucked in a breath at the spectacular mountain views from the street thinking that one day she’d go explore those mountains when this whole ordeal was over.
A car sat on the driveway right outside a one car garage. Hedges and bushes surrounded the perimeter of the home giving an air that Jack liked his privacy.
The colors of the exterior were a forest green with beige accents. Claire thought she’d rather live in a home like that than the big house she currently resided in because it seemed cozier than the cold, hard Kinsey House.
She exited her car and took a deep breath. The occasional car drove by while she could hear the reverse beeping of a large truck in the distance.
Claire puffed out her chest and walked to the front door. Both the front door and the screen door were closed.
Not finding a doorbell, Claire took one last deep breath and knocked, keeping it loud to keep up the facade of confidence.
Claire waited and waited, and then waited some more. She didn’t time how long she stood there for the door to open, but finally looked around and see if Jack was home and okay.
She walked to the double windows and tried to peer inside, but couldn’t see much through the drapes and curtains blocked her from viewing the interior of the home.
She frowned and walked to the side of the wrap around porch trying to peer in other windows.
Thinking she might try knocking louder one more time, she made her way back, her shoes making the wood moan and crack with each step.
Jack either didn’t hear her or he was hiding from her, Claire guessed the latter.
Claire thought she would jump out of her skin when she turned the corner and found Jack standing right outside his open front door glaring at her.
“Jesus…” She cried, backing up against the railing.
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Jack said.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Claire said, her voice showing her annoyance.
“Boy, you’re stubborn like your grandma. I thought you would go away, but no, instead you decided to spy on me,” he said.
“I wasn’t… ” Claire straightened up and faced off with Jack. “I wasn’t spying. I saw your car and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Jack waved his hand and grumbled a few curse words.
“What do you want?” He asked.
Claire shook her head getting angrier by the passing second. “Is this how you treated my grandmother too? If so, then I can’t blame her for marrying Arthur.”
Jack grunted and said, “Young lady, you have no idea about me or your grandma, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy.”
“Oh, yeah? Doing what? Going to drink coffee and beer all day?” I wasn’t… ”
Jack grumbled again and said, “No. I don’t join those morons at the American Legion. It’s like a goddamn morgue in there half the time.”
Claire couldn’t help but laugh at his morgue reference. Clay joined his local American Legion once, but never kept up on his membership, because he said the same exact words. He brought Claire inside with him one day and an older woman sat there staring at her the whole time, but her eyes were glazed over from the booze she was consuming at alarming rates. Clay never stepped foot in there again.
“Jack, I came here to talk to you about what you told me the other day,” Claire said turning back to the business at hand.
Jack cocked his head and asked, “How did you find me?”
Claire smirked. “Do you use a computer?”
Jack shook his head in disgust. “Goddamn internet. Those things will be the downfall of the world, but damn… it’s easy to pay my bills on there.”
“That’s how I found you,” Claire commented.
Jack turned towards the door and moved to walk back inside the house. “You wasted your time. If you haven’t figured it out by now, then you’re not as smart as I thought I’d give you credit for.”
Claire ignored the insult and pleaded with him. “Jack, please I need to know where to find my aunt.”
“I told you she is right in front of your face,” he said.
Claire took a few steps forward as Jack moved closer to the threshold of the front door. He would lock her out if she didn’t move fast enough.
“Is she your daughter?” Claire asked.
Weariness came over the old man’s face as he looked away from Claire. She thought it looked like someone kept beating on him over the course of his life. Like he was constantly abused and tried to hide his injuries behind a grumpy old man.
She thought his cloudy eyes were getting wet from the burden that he carried with him.
Jack shook his head and stepped over the threshold but not before Claire shot off like a bullet and put her foot between the door and the frame. He swung the door hard on her foot, and Claire had to bite her lip from the pain that shot up her foot and leg.
“I will call the cops!” Jack declared, trying to kick her foot out of the way.
“I’ll tell Mac that you were an accessory to murder. Wouldn’t that ruin your retirement?” Claire threatened.
Jack scoffed. “Who would they believe? A stranger to these parts over someone that’s lived here all his life?”
Jack stumbled, trying to keep his balance, as he kicked Claire’s foot away from the door.
“No,” Claire said. She held the door with her hand and still had her foot on the inside of the house. She wouldn’t give up until this old man told her what she needed to know. “You’re not going to run away from this because I found him.”
Jack stopped trying to push Claire out. His face went from anger to shock. His mouth moved, but no words came out.
This time, tears glistened in his eyes.
“So soon?” He asked, but his voice was shaking.
Claire stepped back when Jack released the grip on the door. Jack stood there stiff, but she thought he would break down and sob any moment.
“You knew where he was all along, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he whispered. He then straightened as best he could and met Claire’s eyes. “I helped Rose bury him in the basement. I wasn’t retired yet and knew the investigation was pretty much closed because the sneaker cemented that the boy fell into the river. There was not enough evidence to make a case against Rose. Kevin never gave up, but had to move on to other cases.”
Jack struggled to tell Claire more of the truth. “I kept him hidden and told Rose how to stick to her story without wavering in front of Kevin. We made Susie disappear, and I made the box for your brother. I’m the one who planted his shoe to wash up on the riverbank. I’m the one who planted the footprints where David would have fallen in, but covered up my own.”
Claire’
s shoulders slumped, and she had to turn away to let the story sink in.
When she turned back to Jack Carpenter, she didn’t want to strike out at him in a fit of anger. She could only plead with him to help her put Sue away forever.
“Why, though?” Claire asked. Her words dry and scratchy in her throat as she asked a question that needed answering a long time ago. “Why did you do that? I know you loved them both but love should only go so far.”
Jack stepped back onto the porch. Claire could tell he looked exhausted and ready to lift the burden he carried for so many years off his arthritic shoulders.
“Your grandma was sent to one them stupid homes for pregnant girls when she found out she was expecting Susie,” Jack recalled. “I pleaded with her family to let me marry her. I had a stable job and came from a good home, but her family worried more about their reputation than Rose’s happiness.”
Jack sank into a rocking chair not caring about the chill in the air, and he gestured for Claire to sit down next to him.
“They did let me send Susie off to live with my sister and raise her as her own while Rose agreed to marry Arthur. I couldn’t take care of the baby on my own. My job wouldn’t allow it.”
Jack’s hand turned into a fist, his cloudy blue eyes flashed from the angry memories.
“Your grandpa was not a good man, Claire. He was a hard drinker and didn’t give a damn about how much money he lost by gambling, women, and liquor, but his family never cut him off like they shoulda,’” Jack said turning to Claire and pointing a finger at her. “On the outside, though, he was the perfect citizen. He ran for mayor and won. I think the only reason he won was because Rose did most of the work.”
Jack’s face turned softer, as he spoke of a time long past. “She fussed over your mama somethin’ fierce when she was born because she already done lost Susie and didn’t want to lose her either.”
“She wanted so bad to bring Susie home, but Arthur wasn’t having any of it,” Jack continued. “But, after he died, Rose was finally free to do whatever she wanted.”
“She wanted Susie home,” Claire said.
Jack reached into his shirt pocket and then cursed. “Damn, doctors won’t let me smoke.”
He then rocked back and forth a look of guilt crossing his features. “I didn’t tell Rose the troubles Susie was givin’ my sister and I should have.”
Claire leaned forward fascinated by what Jack was telling her. “What was she doing?”
Jack grimaced and slapped his chest still looking for a smoke. “There was something not right with that girl from the moment I handed her over to my sister. A dead look in her eyes, one that would scare the pants off a rabid dog. It was little things, like she learned how to set a fire at two years old, and about burned their house down. My sister was threatening to send her back to me when Rose came for her.”
Jack stopped and looked over at Claire. “I think you know the rest.”
“Where is she, Jack?”
“How did you find him so fast?” Jack asked instead. “Rose told me she was sick and didn’t have much longer. Did she leave a note?”
Claire reached into her purse and pulled out the brooch. The diamonds sparkled in the morning sunshine.
Jack eyed the brooch and looked surprised. “Huh. Rose always said she saw him and his spirit attached itself to that brooch, but I never believed that nonsense. I was wrong.”
“He won’t show me her face,” Claire explained putting the brooch back in her purse.
Jack turned to her sharply and said, “You really haven’t seen it yet, have you?”
Claire shook her head. Jack said before she was right in front of her face, but Claire hadn’t met many people yet.
“I keep a goddamn eye on her every day,” Jack said. “We both did until Rose died.”
The realization was creeping up inside Claire’s gut. The hole she carried around with her for so many years was filling up with the answer to her mysterious Aunt Sue.
“Strawberry jelly,” Claire whispered. “It’s in one of the recipe books with butter as the secret ingredient.”
“What? I told Rose not to leave you the house. I told her to let you live your life. Donate the house and give you the money,” Jack’s voice echoed from far away. “It would keep you safe. Sue wouldn’t do nothin’ to you…”
Claire’s memories drowned out Jack’s voice as she was forced back in her own little time machine the day David died.
Claire walked out of her room. Sue was turned away from her, her dark hair hanging over her shoulders.
Sue heard the squeak of the door and turned to Claire.
Claire’s eyes widened as a sneer crossed her face. Sue pushed her hair back and the face matched the woman she thought was her friend.
“How?” Claire asked, not realizing she was asking the question out loud.
“Rose bought her the coffee shop hoping it would keep Susie quiet. I swear she killed her husband too… “
This made Claire come back to the present. It was so obvious now that Claire dug further into the memories she had.
She shook her head trying to bring herself out of her shock.
“Jack, you said she might have killed her husband. Did she kill my parents?”
Claire swallowed waiting for the answer. A wave of dizziness passed through her as she sat in that rocking chair. That woman befriended her, walked through her house. It made sense now. She never made deliveries to Rose, she lived there. She moved in when she was eight years old, according to Jack. She knew the inside of that house.
“I knew you would ask that. I was there when they were pulling the car from the ridge. There was no evidence of foul play, but you never knew with Susie. She knew your mama for a long time by then and didn’t shed any tears at the funeral.”
Claire nodded. She may never know if Shirley was responsible for the death of her parents.
All this news was a sucker punch. She let that woman in her house. She let that woman in her life. She even went to Shirley for advice, and now that Claire thought over the past week, it all made sense how Shirley barged in when she brought Claire that food. She was fishing for answers. She wanted to know if Claire remembered her. Then she tried to intimidate Claire by sitting her car in front of the house.
This was speculation, but it made sense.
She pictured Shirley in her mind and the resemblance was there. The more Claire produced a clear picture in her mind, the more she could see how much her mother would look like Shirley if she were alive today.
“I’m ready to face what’s comin’ to me,” Jack said resigned to his fate.
“Why did Rose do all this? Why did she cover for Shir—Sue in the first place? Good God, Jack, she murdered my brother in cold blood.” Claire was incredulous now. She couldn’t even fathom why Jack and her grandmother went to such lengths to cover up the crime.
Jack never looked her way when he answered. He stared out to the street for the longest time making Claire want to jump up and shake it out of him.
“I would like to say it was about the money, protecting the reputation of one of the richest families in the state of North Carolina, but it was about guilt. Simple guilt. Rose and I blamed ourselves for creating the monster we call our daughter, and we should have let her pay the price.”
Claire lowered her head. She knew your mama for a long time by then and didn’t shed any tears at the funeral.
She was done with this conversation. She would see justice for her brother. A plan formed in her head. She didn’t care how she got the confession, but she would get it.
Claire stood, straightened her jacket, and threw her purse over her shoulder. She turned to leave without another word to Jack, but he stopped her before she stepped off the porch.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“I know what you want to do. My daughter is a dangerous woman. Please go to Mac or the police first.”
Jack’s lips turned upwards, but it wasn’t a h
appy smile, it was a weary one. “You look exactly like your mama.”
“I have to do this, Jack.”
Jack closed his eyes and sighed. “I know.”
Claire turned and walked to her car. She sat there watching as Jack stayed still in the rocking chair while she started her car. Claire had the urge to get out of her car and shake Jack until it hurt.
The tears formed in her eyes over their willingness to cover for a sick woman who murdered a child and turned her life upside down. She cursed them all to hell for what they did and didn’t know if she’d ever find it in her heart to forgive them, including Mary and Clay for keeping the truth from her all along.
Claire drove off trying not to burst out sobbing. She didn’t want to give away what she knew.
She set her GPS to find her way to the grocery store, and when she pulled in she hoped her plan worked.
She sent a text to Shir—Sue and invited her over for lunch the next day instead of them going out to eat saying she needed company.
Claire waited patiently for the response.
Claire didn’t smile when she received a positive response and how excited Shirley-er-Sue was to come over for a home-cooked meal, saying something to the effect of not having time to cook for herself since she was always at the shop.
Claire’s mood may have been serious, but she sent another response with smiley faces and hearts back to her long-lost aunt.
Relying on her memory, Claire only needed a few ingredients.
Claire’s mind was turning like the salt-water taffy she used to watch being made from the store windows on the local boardwalks when she was a young girl.
The more she explored the dark place in her mind, now an open door, the more the trauma from her childhood abuse and ultimately witnessing her brother’s murder made her nauseous.
Claire drove to the grocery store first. She didn’t pay attention to the friendly cashier as she paid for the ingredients. She handed over some cash and left in a hurry.
She had a plan. She needed a confession out of Shir—Sue before she could even think of contacting the police. Her memories of her childhood were coming in waves but were they enough to reopen an investigation into her brother’s murder?