by Linnea West
"And then Jake got married and I wasn't invited," he said. "I was heartbroken and determined to patch things up. Jake's mother told me that he would be here for his honeymoon and as soon as I heard, I called and booked us a room. I figured I would be able to talk to him and patch things up before we introduced our wives to each other."
"That would have been beautiful," Claudia said, almost in a whisper.
"But Hollywood had changed Jake and he wasn't willing to forgive you, was he?" I chimed in. We needed to get to the end of this story.
"It certainly did," Lyle said with a nod. "He would hardly give me the time of day. He told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way he would even talk to me. Jake told me to stay away from his wife and that he didn't want to meet my wife either. I was very upset, but later on, I got the impression that he was softening. Even though he was a little grumpy, he let me make polite conversation with him and he even caught my eye and smiled a few times. I was so hopeful that it was a good sign until he collapsed at dinner."
Lyle's heavy story hung in the air; the emotions in the room were weighing everything down. I needed to escape it before I burst. My fatigued mind was still full of the emotions that had been brought up over remembering Peter's death. I needed to get out of this room.
"Thank you Lyle," I said. "I would ask that you simply stay here in this room until the police come."
Lyle started to protest, but I burst through the swinging door to the kitchen, gulping in air as if I had just burst out of the depths of the sea. I sank into one of the chairs and folded my arms on the kitchen table, lowering my head as I started to sob.
As much as I wanted to run through Lyle's story and look for more clues, I just couldn't right now. Instead, I sobbed into my shirt sleeves until they were wet, letting memories of Peter flow through my mind.
Chapter Seventeen
"Tessa, are you alright?"
Someone had their hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. Crying away my emotions had been exhausting and at some point I had dozed off. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The snow was still blowing like crazy outside, which made it hard to know what time it was or how long I had been sleeping. I had to imagine it wasn't long since I was in the kitchen.
I glanced up and saw that Clark had been the one to shake me awake. Great, as if I wasn't upset enough, let's add that the man I've been seeing who kissed another girl in my house. I really didn't want to deal with this situation right now, but we were both stuck in this house until the storm was gone.
"Are you alright?" Clark asked again.
"No," I said. "I mean yes, but no. I don't really want to talk about it."
"You can tell me Tessa," Clark said.
I stood up and looked at his face. Clark was at least a head taller than me, which was both exciting and annoying. His height made him seem like a protector, but it also meant that kissing was an interesting experiment in tip-toe balancing, not that I wanted to think about kissing him right now. He put his hand on my elbow and gazed down into my eyes.
"Please, Tessa, is it about Peter?" he asked quietly.
I pulled back involuntarily, hating the sound of Peter's name coming from his lips. Between the emotional roller coaster I had just sent myself on and the sudden realization that we were standing on the same spot where I had caught him kissing Candy, I felt myself fill up with negativity.
"You want to talk about my dead husband?" I snarled. "Maybe we should talk a little bit about you kissing Candy. Should we drag all of the other loves of our life into our conversation?"
Clark's eyebrows knit together as he tried to follow my train of thought. As I spoke, I know it didn't make any sense, but my anger was like a runaway train right now and I wasn't sure where it was going to end up. I took another step back from him. I didn't want to be close enough to smell his cologne and see his cute dimple. The anger was welling up inside and I wanted it to.
"Tessa, you know that Candy and I date just like you and Max do," Clark said. I think if I wasn't filled with anger he would have sounded reasonable, but through my rage glasses he sounded like he was trying to tell me to calm down. And no one tells me to calm down.
"Yeah, but I don't bring him to your house and kiss him in your kitchen," I yelled slamming a chair into the table. "If there wasn't a blizzard raging outside, I would have asked you to leave yesterday. But while I don't hate you enough to want you to get lost in this blizzard, I would like you to stay away from me."
This time it was Clark's turn to take a step back. He almost stumbled like I had given him a shove. I immediately regretted the words that had flown out of my mouth. My absolute worst trait is my inability to shut my mouth. On some level I knew I should just stop talking, but I couldn't. My anger was driving the bus right now.
Clark puffed himself back up and gathered up his courage. His eyes narrowed at me and I could see anger start to flow through him too.
"Tessa, maybe we need to take a break," Clark said. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being the one that you go out with for fun. I know you don't want a serious relationship, but I still want you to be able to trust me enough to tell me things. You tell Max about Peter."
"Max understands what I'm going through because he's going through it too," I said. "I've always been afraid I'd drive you away if I talked about all of my feelings about Peter's death and how I still cry and sometimes I dream of him and it seems so real that I wake up thinking he is still sleeping next to me. I didn't want you think I was hung up on Peter, but I'm still dealing with it. And you are the new guy in town. I didn't think you wanted to be saddled with a girl who can't get over her dead husband."
"I'm not saddled with you," Clark said. "Look, I've been putting up with your hidden emotions and your feelings of inadequacy for a few months now. I know I'm seen as some kind of prize in this town. I know I like to flirt and that makes tongues wag around Shady Lake. But I'm not that conceited. I didn't come along and pick you like you were some kind of trophy that I could drag up the social ladder of this town. I'm tired of propping you up all of the time."
I was stunned into silence for a while as Clark's words echoed in my ears. I'd been struggling with not feeling good enough for Clark for a while now, but I had no idea he could see that struggle.
"I see how you glare at any girl who makes eyes at me when we are out together," Clark continued. "I know you are still nervous every single time we go out together even though we've been dating for over six months now. And I hate that."
"So why didn't you break up with me before this?" I asked.
"Because I was hoping you would change," Clark said quietly. "I was hoping you would relax and start to tell me things. Apparently I hoped too much because you seem to not trust me with your emotional struggles."
"Does this mean you don't think we should date anymore?" I asked, trying to push down the tears that were springing red-hot into my eyes.
"It means that I think we should take a break," he said. "Don't worry, I will make sure Candy doesn't rub it in your face."
For a moment, the world swirled around us as we stood toe to toe in the kitchen. I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes, knowing that if I did the tears in my eyes would spill over. Clark leaned forward and kissed my forehead, letting his warm lips linger a little longer than he usually would.
Then he turned and walked through the door into the living room, leaving me with even more emotional baggage during this blizzard. I plopped back down into one of the chairs, trying to figure out where to go from here. The kitchen clock was frozen in place and my phone was out of battery, so I had no idea what time it was. I could only hope that the police would get here soon.
I glanced out the window, wondering what Max meant when he said there was a break in the storm. I may have missed it during my little nap, but it looked exactly the same as it had since the storm had blown in yesterday. The wind was still whipping the snow every which way making it so dark outside that it seemed like evening, even though i
f I had to guess it was probably about lunchtime. I wasn't going to go outside in this, but I knew from experience that this kind of wind blew snow in every direction making it impossible to even know up from down when you were out in it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the swinging door start to open. Mandy's head poked in. As soon as she saw me, she slipped in and sat in the chair across the table from me. For a moment, she didn't say anything. She gave me the same sympathetic look I'd seen so many times in my life. It was the same one that saw me through failing my driver's test the first time and pre-wedding jitters. It had been there when my freshman year high school crush didn't dance with me at the spring fling and when Peter had died.
After a moment, she reached across the table and held my hand. Whereas my biggest fault was not being able to shut my mouth, one of Mandy's biggest strengths was knowing when to wait out the silence. There we sat, mirror images of each other. We had always been told we looked alike, but sometimes we were opposites. Right now I was the face of grief while Mandy was a pillar of strength.
"Thank you," I finally managed to say. "Clark and I were just talking."
"I know," Mandy said, cutting me off. "I could hear through the door. I didn't think you'd mind me listening in."
Her impish grin made me giggle. It was just enough to drag me out of the depths of depression to a shallower depth of sadness. I actually was glad she had listened in so that I didn't have to rehash the entire conversation for her. Instead, she let me just sit with her and my sadness for a little while.
"Okay, that's enough," she said after a few minutes of wallowing. "It is lunchtime and someone needs to make food. You are going to help me pull together some plates of sandwich fixings for everyone."
I stood up, grateful for her initiative. As we pulled sliced meat and condiments out of the fridge, I watched Mandy work to make the ugly foods look appetizing. I felt so grateful for her and I felt such a deep love, the kind you can only have for a friend that has been through everything life throws your way.
At that moment I knew that no matter what happened with Clark and I, Mandy would always be there for me. As soon as the storm let up and the police came, I could work on getting my life back on track.
Chapter Eighteen
The sound of the crackling fire was enough to cover all of the chewing noises from everyone in the living room. We had first brought the trays to Claudia and Lyle, warning Tank to hold off because if he had been at the front of the line no one else would have gotten a sandwich.
I settled myself into a chair in the library corner with my sandwich. It was the only spot in the room that didn't have other seating close to it. I wanted to eat by myself, but it was cold in the kitchen. This was the next best thing right now.
Mandy, however, wouldn't let me be all alone. She took one look at my sad self, marched over and demanded I hold her plate before she moved an ottoman closer to sit on. We didn't even talk, but I had to admit that having her sit next to me did help a little. Especially because it was easier to ignore Candy and Clark when I had someone with me.
Once I finished off my lunch, I gathered a few plates to bring into the kitchen. As I set them in the sink, I heard the door open again behind me. I figured Mandy was helping me clean up, but when I turned around I was surprised to see that Anna had followed me in.
"Tessa, may I talk to you?" she said.
"Of course, why don't you sit down?"
We both sat at the kitchen table, which seemed to be the headquarters for my investigation. Anna's eyes were ringed in red and her nose looked raw, probably from wiping it so much. My heart broke for her and her situation.
"I couldn't help but notice that you have Lyle in the other room and he hasn't been allowed back with us," Anna said. "I'd love to talk to him."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I know that he was Jake's father," she said. "And I feel just terrible that I never really got to talk to him."
Anna stared at me. There was a twinkle in her eye that seemed amused by my confusion. I was almost glad to see it. It told me that after everything was through, she would come out the other side of this stronger.
"I was under the impression that Jake didn't want to repair his relationship with Lyle," I said. I didn't want to give too much away, but every time I thought I had everything figured out, something else was revealed that changed things.
"Well, at first he was upset," Anna said. "He was mostly upset that his father was crashing our honeymoon. But he had already told me about his estranged father and that he thought they had been estranged long enough. He was hoping for an opportunity to try to patch things up, but Lyle's appearance here annoyed him."
I could understand why. I wouldn't want my parents showing up on my honeymoon. Up until now, I figured Lyle's motive for poisoning Jake was to get revenge for not repairing their relationship. But if Jake had told Anna about his father and seemed to be softening his attitude towards Lyle, why would Lyle still go ahead with his plan? It didn't make any sense.
"Thank you for telling me, Anna," I said. "I'll go check with Lyle to see if he'd like to talk to you."
As I pushed my way through the swinging door to the dining room, I ran through everything in my head again. There was something weird about all of this and it wasn't just that all of the motives we found kept getting pulled apart.
"Lyle, Anna was wondering if she could come in and talk to you," I said.
Lyle's eyes darted up to meet mine and I could see the pain in them. I realized that he probably thought she wanted to confront him as the wife of a murder victim and not as his daughter-in-law. I didn't want to give anything away, but I did want to reassure him a bit.
"Don't worry," I said. "It isn't anything bad."
I couldn't blame Lyle when he looked like he didn't believe me, but Anna pushed her way through the door and sat in a chair across the table from Claudia and Lyle. For a moment, nobody spoke. Anna picked at her fingernails while Claudia watched her in confusion. Lyle's eyes darted all over the room, trying to figure out whether he should look at her or not. Finally, Anna spoke.
"I know you were Jake's father," she said in a quiet voice. "And I know that Jake said he didn't want to repair your relationship, but after he threw that little fit, he thought it over a little more and he told me about you. Jake had decided ten years was long enough to be estranged and he was going to talk to you after dinner that night."
Lyle's face was a mixture of relief and grief; the two emotions fighting for a prominent position on his face. At that moment, I knew they would be alright. I slipped quietly back through the door to the kitchen. I needed to do some serious thinking.
As I got myself another cup of coffee, I suddenly realized what had really been bugging me about this entire situation. As a lover of everything true crime, I know that it is well documented that poison was a woman's weapon. Men tend to use knives or more violent weapons while women tend to distance themselves by using poison. Having Lyle essentially poison Jake would go entirely against type.
Of course, it was possible for a man to use poison. It was just highly unlikely. All of a sudden, things were stacking up in a way that made Lyle look like he was taking the fall for something he did not do.
Either of the other two suspects would make sense because they were both women; Anna and Dawn had still not been entirely ruled out as suspects. But then how did the bottle of fish sauce end up in Lyle's room? I suppose it could have been planted there, but by who? And when?
Things were just not adding up and I was running out of ideas of what to do next. Maybe I should just wait for the police to come and push everything over to them. After all, it wasn't my investigation. I wasn't a detective or anything. I was just a busy body who keeps falling into these things.
Mandy came in just at the right time and I borrowed her phone to send Max a message.
Hey Max, Tessa here. Any ETA on those cops?
Max must have been practically sitting on top of
his phone because immediately there was a message back.
Bad news. The cops who were dispatched slid into a light pole. They are alright, but unfortunately we are now down another car and two officers, so you will just have to sit tight.
I groaned and almost dropped the phone. Mandy leapt forward with a little yelp and grabbed her smartphone from me, reading the message and adding her groan to my own.
"So we are still stuck with a killer and a dead body?" she squeaked.
"Yes, but that isn't all the bad news," I said. "I'm beginning to think Lyle didn't do it."
"But the fish sauce bottle," Mandy said.
I cut her off and explained everything that I had just been mulling over and when I got to the end, Mandy couldn't help but agree that I may just be right.
"So what do we do now?" she asked.
I appreciated that she thought I would have any idea what to do, but I was as clueless as she was despite my incessant true crime love. We had suspects, but none of them lined up properly. We had found what had probably poisoned Jake, but couldn't prove who had done it. And we had motives, but none of the motives seemed to hold up.
"For now, we go through to the living room and warm up by the fire," I said.
I stood up and took a deep breath before I walked into the living room. I hoped that something would happen soon, but I was afraid that anything that would help me would hurt someone else.
Chapter Nineteen
A little while later, I was feeling much better. Mandy had shoved a stack of trashy magazines in my lap as she plopped down onto the ottoman once I was settled in the secluded chair. I had to assume that one of the guests had brought them along, but after paging through a few I had to admit I was feeling a bit more relaxed.
Looking around the living room, everyone was still on edge. The double date couples had started another puzzle and everyone else seemed to be lazily paging through books. They had all stopped even glancing towards the windows as it was still the foggy, snowy gray that had been whipping by for the past day or so.