by Willow Rose
I exhaled. “So now, you’re telling me to forgive him as well? Is that it? Or my life will be miserable?”
“Heavens, no. What you do to him is none of my concern. That’s between you and him, dear. No, I want you to forgive me,” she said with a grin as we drove onto her street. “I want to make sure you know that I tried. I really did. But you also know your own mother. There was no way I could make her budge. In the end, she simply refused to speak to me. If I called, she’d hang up; if I wrote letters, she never answered … if she even read them. If I sent you a present, she’d return it unopened.”
I smiled. That did sound like mommy dearest.
“What I’m trying to say is that people do crazy things sometimes out of a desperate need or maybe even out of spite because they think there’s no other way out and maybe, well maybe they regret it later on, and maybe they don’t know how to tell you that.”
“And now we’re back to talking about David again,” I said.
“Yeah, well, I guess so.”
“And maybe Adam, too,” I mumbled, then repeated: “Because there was no other way out.”
Eileen drove up into the driveway and parked her Jeep.
“What was that?”
I shook my head and opened the door. “Nothing. Just a thought.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Who is that on your porch?” I asked, then answered the question myself once I saw his face. “What does he want?”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
THEN:
“Listen, I know what it looks like.”
Marlene looked from Rivers to Waltman. She was getting tired now and wasn’t sure she could take much more.
“But you’re wrong. My husband, Bruce would never touch Jack. I can assure you he wouldn’t. Jack must be lying, maybe to get attention or something. You know how kids are. Kids say stuff and never think about the consequences. But I assure you; it’s all lies. Maybe the product of a child’s wild imagination. Kids lie from time to time. You must know this?”
“Do they?” Rivers say. “Do they lie about things like this? About abuse?”
“Well, naturally, they must from time to time, right? Like they lie about other kinds of stuff.”
“Okay,” Waltman said and leaned forward, folding his hands. “Let us recap what your son has told our social workers so far, in just the few hours they have been interviewing him, and then you tell me if he’s lying.”
Marlene leaned back in her chair, a big knot in her throat making it hard for her to swallow properly.
There was more?
“When I’m bad, he locks me in the shed in our backyard,” Rivers read from the file. “It’s very hot in there, and I can’t breathe. I don’t get food or water, and I am very hungry and thirsty.”
Marlene wrinkled her forehead. “Excuse me? I have never …”
“He beats me with his fists, or he kicks me. Sometimes, he uses a tool from the shed, and that hurts,” Rivers continued reading.
Marlene shook her head. What was this? It seemed so foolish when knowing Bruce. Sweet and caring Bruce. Bruce who adored his son more than anything in this world. Who loved to hang out with him in the yard or put up a kite?
There was the time when he slapped him, remember? When he slapped Jack for talking back. But that was because he had a bad day at the office. He promised he’d never do it again.
“He punches me in my private parts when I’m not tough enough,” Rivers continued. “Like if I cry after falling on the bike. He once punched me in the stomach because I cried after scraping my knee. But mostly, he hits me in the back. Kicks me in the back if I fall down when we play baseball. He tells me that’s how it is in real life. That I need to be tough for real life.”
Rivers looked up from the paper. “Do you want me to continue?”
Marlene didn’t know what to say. She shook her head, feeling terrified. If her son really had said those things, then they had to be true, didn’t they? They were awfully detailed to be made up by a seven-year-old, weren’t they?
But what did that mean? Did that mean that Bruce was, in fact, abusing their son? And had she been a part of it by not seeing it? Could they accuse her of closing her eyes and being an accomplice in that sense? Would they take Jack away from her because of this? Because she hadn’t noticed? Did she deserve that?
Maybe.
What kind of a mother doesn’t know that her own son is being abused?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I tried to pretend like I wasn’t annoyed by seeing him on my grandmother’s porch. To be honest, he was the last person on Earth I wanted to see right now, and yet there he was, sitting on the porch swing. As he spotted us, McMillen rose to his feet and pulled at his tie as he approached me. His blue shirt had sweaty patches under the arms and on the chest. I wondered how long he had been sitting there waiting for us to come home.
“Detective McMillen,” I said and walked up the five steps leading to the wooden wrap-around porch of my grandmother’s Victorian style home.
He nodded, tipping his hat at my grandmother, who continued inside. “Mrs. Clarke, Miss Thomas.”
The screened door slammed shut behind my grandmother after she said an absentminded and indifferent hello to the detective.
“So … what can I do for you, Detective?” I asked, hoping he’d make this quick. “It’s been quite a long day.”
“I know,” he said with an exhale. He wiped sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand. I debated whether or not to invite him inside in the AC, then decided against it. He wasn’t here on a social call; that much was certain. “I heard what happened at the hospital. That must have been awful for your family.”
Yeah, well, you don’t know the half of it. It would probably have been easier on you if he had just died. Save you a lot of time and trouble, wouldn’t it?
“It was,” I said.
I thought briefly about the nail. I had put it in my purse in a plastic bag. I knew in my heart that someone tried to kill my brother today, and I was determined to find out who. But I had a feeling it was going to be without help from the local law enforcement.
“Listen, I came to talk to you because there’s something you should know,” he said, “about your brother and the case.”
“Yeah? And what is that?”
“I know you think everything was wonderful and innocent between Allyson and Adam,” he said. “But the thing is … well, we found out that Allyson was seeing someone else.”
“And just how do you know this?” I asked.
“We found a series of texts in her phone records.”
“Okay. And who is he?”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“How can you not know? This guy might be a suspect?” I asked.
“He had no name in her phone; she used an emoji instead of a name. A happy face.”
“But surely you traced the number?” I said.
“We did. But it belongs to a burner phone. Bought with cash at a Wal-Mart three months ago.”
“So, it could be anyone,” I said pensively.
“But that’s not the point,” he continued.
“Why is that not the point? To me, the point here is very clear. You have another suspect, another person of interest that you need to look into before you close the case on my brother.”
“He knew,” McMillen said. “That’s the point I’m trying to make. Adam knew that Allyson was seeing someone else behind his back.”
“How do you know this?”
“From his phone records. They were fighting about it. He confronted her a few days before they went to the beach party and asked her about it. He had seen her texts with this other guy. Furthermore, we have statements from friends at the party saying that they were fighting on the night she disappeared. At one point, Adam grabbed her by the arm and tried to force her to kiss him, but she left angrily, and he ran after her. That’s the last time she was seen. Paints quite the picture, don’t you think? Bu
t it also makes a lot of sense. He got angry, jealous, and she refused him. So he snapped. He killed her, then decided to kill himself by shooting up the school because he was angry at the world and the other students. Maybe some of them knew about it and didn’t tell him, so he was angry at them; maybe Allyson’s secret boyfriend was among them. Who knows? But it gives your boy a motive for doing what he did. Now, I know he’s your long-lost brother and all that, but the fact is, you don’t know him at all.”
I bit my lip, realizing he was right, but not wanting to admit it.
“I think you have it all wrong, Detective,” I said. “He didn’t want to kill anyone at the school. He didn’t even try to. He closed his eyes and shot for the ceiling. And today, someone tried to kill him. Because when he wakes up, he can tell the truth. He can explain that someone else murdered Allyson and made him walk into the school with the gun. Adam did it because there was no other way out. He was holding the picture of the one he loved in his hand because this killer, whoever is behind it, used her to pressure him, telling him that Allyson would die if he didn’t do it. That’s my theory. I also believe this killer murdered five people at the Ritz-Carlton, and if you look closely at the champagne they drank, you’ll find that it was poisoned. There was nothing random about this; it was no coincidence. My only question is, where and how will he strike next? That’s what we need to focus on.”
McMillen stared at me, his eyes growing wide, his mouth gaping slightly. His lips then pulled into a smile.
“You’re even madder than I thought,” he said. “That has got to be the craziest story I have ever heard.”
“Yeah, well, I had a feeling you might say that. But nonetheless, I feel like I have to warn you. You have a very clever killer on your peaceful little island, and he won’t stop until someone makes him. Believe me. I’ve faced killers like him before, and the more they succeed in their affairs, the more they think themselves invincible. Last time, he killed five people in one strike. There’s no telling how many he’ll go for next. The question is, how many deaths you can have sitting on your conscience before you start to listen?” I stopped to take a deep breath before continuing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go call my children. The ones I am neglecting because I have to stay here and solve this case since no one else seems to care enough to. Goodnight, Detective. I can’t say it has been a pleasure.”
I turned around on my heel and walked to the screened door, then pulled it open. McMillen put on his hat and took a couple of steps across the wood, then stopped.
“You’re seeing ghosts here, Miss Thomas. But I understand where it’s coming from. It’s your brother. You want to think the best about him, of course, you do. And I don’t think he was bad. I think he was heartbroken. I agree that he believed it was the only way out, but not for the reasons you do. I’m going to ask you respectfully to stop interfering with our work and let us do our job.”
And with that, he left while I stood on the threshold to the house, my hand still on the door handle, fighting to suppress my desire to scream.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I asked my grandmother for his address and was told that Chris lived just down the road. Chris and Adam had been friends since early childhood and used to hang out all the time, she added. I noticed she drifted away for a second while telling me this, and I sensed she missed those days. I couldn’t blame her.
Chris came to the door immediately when I knocked, then used his crutches to hump out on the porch.
“Miss Thomas? What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Adam all right? Did something happen?”
He closed the door behind him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Adam is fine after the scare we had yesterday; his heart is back to beating again, and he’s okay for now.”
Chris looked relieved. “You had me scared there for a second. I heard about what happened yesterday and worried he hadn’t survived the night.”
“Oh, no, Adam is okay, as far as I know.”
“Oh, good. I was planning on paying him a visit later in the day if they’ll allow me.”
“That is very sweet of you. Listen, I hope I didn’t come too early and wake up the whole house,” I said. “I wasn’t able to sleep much last night and frankly didn’t think about it being Saturday and all.”
“That’s okay,” Chris said. “I don’t like to sleep in anyway. Too much of the day is wasted that way, and who wants to waste time you have off, right?”
“True. Better get something out of your day.”
“What can I help you with?”
“Well, it’s a little delicate, so you’ll have to excuse me if I’m being blunt, but I wanted to ask you if you knew that Allyson was seeing someone else. According to the police, Adam knew and was angry with Allyson because of it. They see this as a motive, while I still have my doubts.”
Chris went serious, then he nodded. “Yeah, I knew about it. Adam told me he suspected she was seeing someone else and that he had seen texts on her phone from him. He was terrified of losing her. It would break him if he did. Everyone knew that, no one more than me.”
I nodded pensively. “Do you know who he was? Was he a student at the high school?”
Chris shook his head. “No, that I could understand. I mean a lot of guys liked her at the school.”
“So, he wasn’t from the school. Was he a student somewhere else?” I asked.
Chris swallowed and shook his head again. “No. It was all a little odd if you ask me. And gross too.”
I wrinkled my forehead, puzzled. “Gross? What do you mean by that? How was it gross?”
Chris’s eyes avoided mine. “He was kind of an older guy. You know, older than us. An adult.”
“Older?” I said, thinking it was beginning to get interesting. If he was an adult, then he could very well be the guy we were looking for. My heart started to race in my chest when thinking about this. This was a real lead, one that could crack the case wide open. This could be exactly what I was searching for.
“Do you know him?”
“Not really. I only know of him, like I know who he is and all that.”
I nodded. “Okay, but do you know his name?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
Chapter Forty
Mr. Jenkins lived in a brand-new house on Robert Oliver Court at the end of a cul-de-sac. The street was all brand-new houses, and the neighborhood seemed a little more high-end than the rest of the island. It was within walking distance of the beach.
I pulled up and parked my car on the street outside, then looked at the gray house in front of me and its columns in front of the entrance.
I got out and walked up, then spotted a girl’s bike in the front yard, and my heart sank.
This guy had children.
I knocked. A young girl no more than five or six opened the door. I smiled. “Hi there. Is your dad home?”
“Daaad?” she called.
I heard a voice coming from behind her. It belonged to a woman. A face peeked out, and a woman soon stood in the doorway.
“Yes? How can we help you?”
I felt my heart beat fast. Not only did this guy have a child, but he also had a wife. What was he doing seeing a fifteen-year-old girl? Was she his mistress? The thought made me sick to my stomach. I kept picturing Olivia with an older guy and what it would make me do if I found out.
“I was just …”
Another voice came from behind them, and a man’s face appeared. Looking into his eyes made me forget what I was trying to say. I couldn’t come here and destroy a family like this. I had to make something up.
“I’m doing a survey,” I said. “I’m sorry to be knocking at your door so early, but we’re trying to research whether or not …”
“Let me just stop you right there,” Mr. Jenkins said. “We’re not interested, no matter what it is. We’re trying to have a nice Saturday morning as a family, and frankly, we don’t care much. You have a nice day.”
Was that the guy I was looking for? Was he my killer?
I walked back to the minivan and got in, then took in a deep breath. Somehow, I had to know more about this Mr. Jenkins, but how? I didn’t exactly have back-up from law enforcement.
I started up the minivan, then drove down the street. I drove up along the coastline and past the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, my heart sinking when thinking about all the families that had been destroyed that night, then stopped at a grill called Salt Life Food Shack and went inside. I was starving since I had left the house without anything to eat, and it was lunchtime now. I ordered fried grouper and key lime pie for dessert, then ate it all while wondering about this strange case and the recent turn of events, feeling the anger rise up inside of me.
What kind of a man had an affair with a fifteen-year-old girl? There had to be something wrong with someone who did that. Terribly wrong.
Chapter Forty-One
He had gotten up early and started driving. He wanted to beat Chad to it and make sure he made it to Amelia Island before he did. It was childish, yes, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Chad arriving first and then acting like he was the owner of the place. And of Eva Rae. Matt needed to make sure his position was secure and that Chad knew his place.