All the Secret Places

by Anna Carlisle

  Jake’s face had gone pale, and Gin put her hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Go ahead with him now. I’ll—I’ll figure something out.”

  “Yeah,” Jake said bleakly. “I’ll call when they let me, I guess.”

  Richard kissed his wife, his shoulders sagging, and laid his hand on Gin’s shoulder for a moment without meeting her eyes. Then the two of them followed Stillman out, and Gin and her mother were alone in Jake’s kitchen. The pound cake sat sodden and forgotten on the counter.

  “Oh, honey, what a mess,” Madeleine said.

  “I can’t believe Dad didn’t tell us,” Gin said. “Or even you.”

  “That’s the way he is. He feels like he has to carry the weight of the whole family on his shoulders.”

  “Even now, though? I mean, come on, Mom, you’re the mayor. I’m thirty-six years old. And Jake . . .”

  “Your father made things hard for Jake for a very long time,” Madeleine said quietly. “And Jake has been remarkably forgiving. I’m sure your father simply wanted to respond in kind.”

  “And instead, he’s made a mess of everything.”

  Gin went to the counter, where the coffee waited untouched. She got down two mugs and the sugar bowl and poured two cups.

  “Oh, honey, I shouldn’t. Caffeine at this hour will keep me up all night.”

  “Mom,” Gin said, “neither one of us is going to be able to sleep, worrying about Dad and Jake. And besides, something happened earlier that I need to tell you about. Something that could explain what happened that night—and clear Jake too.”

  “You know something? But—but why didn’t you say anything to Detective Stillman?”

  Gin thought about the look of resolute confidence on Jake’s face when he spoke of Gus, of the promise he’d demanded from her. She sighed. “I told Jake I wouldn’t discuss it with the cops until he’d had a chance to look into it.”

  “Well, I think the fact that the police just took him in might change things, don’t you?”

  Gin took a sip of her coffee to avoid answering. Yes—any other man would probably consider his arrest an emergency.

  But Jake wasn’t any other man. He was stubborn as hell and loyal to a fault. He’d think nothing of spending a night in jail to protect the people he cared about.

  Gin wondered if Jake and Gus had spoken about Marlene last night—and if so, if Gus had been able to reassure Jake of his innocence. She wished that she had had a chance to discuss it with Jake before now. Maybe he’d learned something that cleared Gus completely.

  But maybe he hadn’t. And if Gus was guilty, and Jake was sitting in jail out of a misbegotten sense of loyalty, then Gin had no choice but to intervene.

  “Okay, Mom,” she began. “Let me tell you about a very interesting conversation I had a couple days ago.”

  * * *

  “We’ll just go down there and explain it to Chief Baxter first thing in the morning,” Madeleine said when Gin had finished telling her what she had learned about the relationship between Gus and Marlene Sykes. “He can contact the county investigators.”

  “Mom, don’t be ridiculous! They’re not going to listen to us now, not when they’ve got Jake in the crosshairs. And besides, Tuck can’t do anything. It’s not his case.”

  “They still have to follow up if he gives them a solid lead,” Madeleine said stubbornly.

  “I—I don’t know. They seem determined to wrap this up as quickly as possible, especially given all the positive media coverage it’s generated for the captain.”

  “Well, that’s just fantastic,” Madeleine said in disgust. “And to think I campaigned for Wheeler. You’d think she’d show some loyalty.”

  “Mom, she’s just doing her job.”

  “It seems like no one’s doing their job, or your father and Jake wouldn’t be in the hot seat! We’re just going to have to figure this out ourselves. Come on, let’s think this through. Don’t you think it’s a huge coincidence that Gus happened to go to the site early on the same morning Marlene and her lover were there? Surely anyone could see that it doesn’t make sense.”

  “I don’t know, Mom . . . maybe he had his suspicions already, and he followed her there. Or maybe he really was worried about theft. I know Jake’s been concerned, with all the copper theft and vandalism in the news.” She paused and thought about what her mother had said. The coincidence was suspicious—or at least very strange. “Maybe . . . maybe there is an innocent explanation. I mean, maybe Gus had some other motivation that he’s covering up, like you say—whether he was tailing his wife and hoping to catch her in the act or something else. But Mom, Jake believes in Gus. And he’s a good judge of character, you know that.”

  Madeleine sighed. “Good people have been fooled before,” she said quietly. “I just hate to see Jake go down for something that Gus did. Listen—if there is another explanation, and if Gus really is the man Jake believes he is, wouldn’t he want to clear things up now? To help Jake?”

  “Yes . . .” Gin said slowly. “You think I should talk to him?”

  “Yes, but if he is lying—if he’s trying to protect himself—you don’t want to tip him off, right?”

  “I’ll go talk to him.” Gin looked at her watch. It was nearly 10:00 PM—too late for a polite visit, but these were hardly ordinary circumstances. “I’ll tell him Jake has been taken for questioning. If I can talk to him in person, I think I’ll know if he’s lying.”

  “That seems like a very dangerous idea. What if he tries to hurt you? To keep you quiet?”

  “That’s very unlikely, Mom—he’ll just keep lying, if it comes to that. But at least I’ll know, and then I can go to Tuck and—and—”

  “And he can strong-arm his way back into the investigation?” Madeleine shook her head. “I know we’re both upset about Jake, honey, but maybe the best thing to do is simply wait until morning, when we both have a clear head.”

  But Gin had made up her mind. She got up, bending to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’m just going to talk to him, that’s all. And then I’ll come right back. I promise.”

  “Be careful,” Madeleine called as Gin went to get her coat.

  But Gin’s mind was already racing far ahead.

  * * *

  When Gin pulled in front of the Sykes’ townhouse in the Galleria, she could see lights on in the upstairs windows. Someone was still awake.

  She knocked firmly on the door, then knocked again after a few moments passed. She could hear voices, then movement from the living room. A moment later, the door opened, and Gus stood facing her, dressed in sweatpants and a Steelers jersey, his face lined and tired.

  “Gin?” he asked. “Is everything all right? Has something else happened?”

  Behind him, Gin thought she caught a flash of movement on the stairs, but then it was gone. “Everything’s fine,” she assured him, even though it was far from the truth. “I just—I wondered if I could talk to you for a moment? I know it’s late, and I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”

  “Of course,” Gus said without hesitation. “We were just upstairs watching TV. Can I get you a drink or something?”

  “No, no, I’m fine,” Gin said, following Gus into the house.

  It had been cleaned since the other day, and Gin wondered if it was Gus or Marlene who had picked up the clutter and dusted the furniture and placed an inexpensive grocery-store bouquet of red carnations and holiday greenery on a lace runner on the dining room table. She took the seat that Gus offered, in an upholstered chair pulled close to the coffee table. Gus sat down on the sofa and waited expectantly.

  And Gin didn’t know where to begin. She glanced up the stairs, but the only door she could see in the upstairs hallway was closed. Maybe Marlene had gone to bed, or maybe she was already in her nightclothes and didn’t want to join them. Perhaps she was annoyed by the intrusion.

  Or terrified of what her husband might do if Gin confronted him with the truth.
<
br />   Gin pushed that thought out of her head. She had to do this—for Jake, and for Marlene and her unborn child, if they were really in danger.

  “Jake has been picked up for questioning about the fire,” she began, willing her voice to stay neutral. “I’m afraid they’re not going to let him go this time, not without some new information to clear him. I’ve just come to talk to you to see if there’s something, anything, that you’ve thought of that might shed light on that night.”

  “Oh, God,” Gus said, running his hand heavily over his face, shadowed with a day’s growth of beard. “I was afraid something like this was going to happen. I kept telling him he needed to get a lawyer. Hell, I’ve wondered if I should get one myself, but what with the baby coming, and Marlene’s medical bills—” He shrugged helplessly.

  “About—about that,” Gin said carefully. “I need you to know that I know about the affair.”

  Gus blanched. He started to say something, then stopped himself. Emotions battled on his face. Finally, he asked, “How did you find out?”

  “Marlene told me,” Gin said. She was taking a chance—if Gus was unstable, if he was furious enough with his wife to try to harm her, then there was no telling what he might do if he found out that she’d told others about her infidelity. And yet, he’d seemed concerned, even tender, when he talked about the baby.

  It was confusing. Based on what Marlene had said, Gus was a jealous and impulsive man. Of course it was possible that his feelings were conflicted. Maybe he truly was trying to work things out with his wife in hopes that they could build their family together. Maybe he’d come to his senses after that single irrational act and, realizing how close he’d come to harming the woman he loved, vowed to forgive her.

  If, after talking to Gus, she determined that he was a threat to Marlene, Gin wouldn’t leave without ensuring her safety—even if it meant summoning the police. But she had to press on if it meant a chance at clearing Jake.

  “I think—I think she might be suffering from a breakdown, Gus. I’m concerned for her well-being.”

  Gus jumped off the couch and started pacing. “This is all my fault,” he said. “God, I’m such an idiot. If I could go back and change things—if I could only have known—”

  He turned and faced Gin with a look of such pain and remorse that she felt her resolve weaken a little. “I wish I’d never met her.”

  “Never met . . . Marlene?” Gin asked, confused. There was a sound from upstairs, and they both turned to see Marlene standing on the landing, dressed in a silky robe, her hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore no makeup, but unlike the last time Gin had seen her, she no longer looked heartbroken and disheveled. Her eyes were clear and burned with intensity. Her fist was tightly closed around some small object.

  She gave Gin a thin smile, raising an eyebrow, and started unhurriedly down the stairs. “Aren’t you a persistent one,” she said in a dreamy voice. “Never give up, that must be your motto. There’s probably nothing you wouldn’t do for Jake, is there?”

  She stumbled slightly, and Gin wondered if she was drunk, but she grabbed the railing and kept coming down. She was humming, and it took only a second for Gin to recognize the tune of “Stand by Your Man.”

  The hairs on her neck stood up.

  “What’s going on here?” Gus demanded.

  “I know about Marlene’s affair,” Gin repeated. “You went there that night—maybe to catch her in the act, maybe to confront her. Maybe you didn’t intend to hurt them at first, though the accelerant in your truck is going to make that hard to prove. I don’t know if you wanted to kill her or simply give her a message. But either way, you’ve put things in motion that have gotten way out of control.”

  To her astonishment, Marlene started to laugh. She’d reached the bottom step and sat down abruptly, her back against the wall, her robe spilling over her long pale legs. One slipper had come off, and she wiggled her foot.

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re after here,” Gus said angrily, “but Marlene never had an affair; I did. I fucked up—Mar even gave me a second chance and agreed to move here with me, but I . . . I . . .” His voice ended in a strangled sob. He went to his wife and knelt down in front of her. “I only agreed to meet Cassie that night to end things for good. I realize you’ve got no reason to believe me, Mar. But if you can’t find a way to forgive me, then how are we ever going to give the baby a decent chance?”

  He tried to take her hands, but she swatted them away. Gin’s mind swirled in confusion. “You had the affair, Gus?”

  “Of course he did,” Marlene said. She pushed her way past Gus and staggered over to the couch and dropped into it, just a couple of feet away from Gin. Gin followed, trying to take her hand, but she kept jerking it away. “He can’t help himself. He’s a horn . . . dog.” She drew out the syllables and ended in another small giggle.

  “Honey, you need to stop talking now,” Gus said. “Listen, we can talk about this later. We can see that counselor if you want. But you need to forget about that night, okay?”

  “You knew,” Gin gasped, the pieces falling into place. “The whole time, you knew it was Marlene who was there that night.” She turned to the woman, whose head was lolling. “You set the fire. You were trying to harm Gus and his lover.”

  Marlene simply stared at her. Her pupils were huge, and her breath was coming in increasingly ragged breaths.

  “What . . . what’s wrong with you?” Gus demanded, putting his hand gently under her chin. “Are you all right, honey?”

  Gin was instantly on alert, chastising herself for not realizing that her affect was dangerously off. “Did you take something, Marlene? Listen to me. You need to tell me what you’ve done. The baby could be at risk of—”

  “There is no baby,” Marlene mumbled.

  “Stop it,” Gus said, his voice rising in panic. “Honey, please, tell Gin what you’ve done. You’re not yourself, you’re—”

  She gave him a sad, resigned smile and allowed him to pry her fingers free one by one from the small bottle she was holding. “You were just so happy,” she said softly. “When I told you we were having a baby. I thought it would fix everything. I thought it would fix us.”

  Gus worked the bottle free, and Gin snatched it from his hand. Reading the label, she felt her mind switch into professional mode, all the shocking new information receding to the background as she realized that her first task was to save Marlene’s life.

  “How many did you take, Marlene?” she demanded, putting her hand to the woman’s wrist, feeling for the irregular, thready pulse. “Call nine-one-one, Gus. Do it now. Tell them she’s ingested an unknown amount of hydrocodone.”

  “I can’t, you know,” Marlene slurred. “I can’t have a baby. But it made him so happy. He brought me flowers and a baby name book, and I thought . . .” She shook her head, and a tear slid down her face. “But he went back to her.”

  “Stay with me, Marlene. Gus is getting help. Tell me how many you took, please? How many pills?”

  Marlene slumped forward into Gin’s lap, her limbs floppy and heavy. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled against Gin’s neck. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  * * *

  “So it was Gus who met a lover there the night of the fire?” Madeleine asked, nearly two hours later, when Gin finally got back to the house. She and Gus had followed the ambulance to the hospital in her car, Gus nearly hysterical with concern and, Gin was sure, an overwhelming sense of guilt. She’d left him there in the waiting room with Detective Witt, who was undoubtedly going to take Marlene into custody as soon as she was recovered enough to leave the hospital.

  “Yes, apparently. He says he’d gone there to break things off with the woman, but I guess Marlene doesn’t believe him.”

  “And yet she tried to kill herself this time instead of him,” Madeleine said, shaking her head. She was still sitting in the kitchen chair, where she’d been waiting by the phone ever since Gin left. “It sounds like
she’s got some serious issues.”

  “I’d say so,” Gin agreed. “Although I don’t know that she ever really wanted to burn him down along with the house. As crazy as it all seems, I think she really loves him.”

  “Well, at least now they’ve got to believe Jake,” Madeleine said. “All he’s guilty of is trusting the wrong people.”

  “I certainly hope you’re right, Mom,” Gin said, giving Madeleine’s hand a squeeze. “I’m ready for our luck to turn.”

  * * *

  Gin let Jake sleep in the next morning while she cooked a full breakfast of French toast, bacon, and sliced fruit. He’d gotten home around two in the morning, not long after Madeleine finally left, exhausted but relieved that the arson case finally seemed to be resolved. He’d fallen into bed practically midsentence and was asleep before Gin could even turn out the light.

  He came into the kitchen just as she was taking the pan off the stove, stretching and yawning. After a week of gray, wintry weather, the sun had broken through shortly after dawn, and the house was bathed in its bright, cheery light.

  “That smells fantastic,” Jake said. “I guess I’ll forgive you just this once for trying to take over.”

  Gin handed him a plate and smiled. “You can have your apron back,” she said. “I’m happy with cleanup duty.”

  “How about we take the day off and forget all about the construction site, Civil War reenactors, and anything that doesn’t have to do with you getting back in my bed and out of those clothes?”

  “Sounds like a deal, mister,” Gin laughed. “Do you want me to do the dishes first?”

  “Only if you plan to do them in the nude,” Jake growled. “Get over here, woman, and bring me some coffee.”

  * * *

  The second time Gin got out of bed that day, Jake was gone, it was already late afternoon, and the house was comfortably warm and silent. When she came downstairs, Jett whined for her dinner, and Gin realized that they’d forgotten to feed the old dog. Jake had left a note saying he had gone into the office to return e-mails and work on a proposal and that she shouldn’t wait for him for dinner.