Save Her Soul: An absolutely unputdownable crime thriller and mystery novel (Detective Josie Quinn Book 9)

by Lisa Regan

  Gretchen said, “Also, Vera and her brother had been estranged for years. She’d never go to him, and she didn’t. No. I think Marisol came here, back to Pennsylvania, before it was too late for her to travel, and she and Vera holed up in the Hempstead house until she went into labor.”

  Josie said, “Mrs. Dutton, how did you manage to get Vera’s name on the birth certificate?”

  Marisol didn’t speak. Connie said, “Mar? Did you do this? You did all this?”

  Glaring at her friend, Marisol said, “I’m not some idiot, Connie. I know you think I am, but I pulled this off for all these years, didn’t I?” She looked at Josie and Gretchen. “I took Vera’s driver’s license and pretended to be her. That was the first time she doctored a driver’s license. She put my picture on her license. No one knew either of us at Geisinger. No one asked questions. A few days later, I went back to Colorado. I had been living in an apartment there by then. My husband had no idea. Nor did he care.”

  “He never knew you were pregnant,” Josie said. “You didn’t want him to know because you were having Silas Murphy’s baby.”

  Connie let out a strangled cry. “You had his baby? Mar? Is that true?”

  Ignoring Connie, Marisol gave a bitter laugh. “Yes, it’s every husband’s dream for his wife to give birth to a drug dealer’s baby. Of course I couldn’t bring that baby home, and I couldn’t go through with… not having it.”

  “Did you ask Vera to take the baby or did she offer?” Josie asked.

  “I don’t know anymore,” Marisol said. “It’s all a blur. Vera wanted a baby desperately and my husband did not want children at all.”

  Connie’s hands fell to her waist. The dog’s leash slipped from her wrist, but she made no move to pick it up. She couldn’t take her eyes off Marisol.

  Gretchen asked, “Why not leave him?”

  “Besides the fact that he would have actually killed me? Because I would have been broke. The money? It was all his. He brought it to the marriage, and he made more and more and more money. We had a prenuptial agreement. I had to be faithful and childless for twenty years before I’d be entitled to any marital property.”

  “Is that even legal?” Josie asked.

  Connie’s dog trotted off into the trees, sniffing around, its leash trailing behind it. Tears fell from Connie’s eyes as she listened to her friend pour out decades-old secrets.

  “I don’t know,” Marisol answered. “Why don’t you ask eighteen-year-old Marisol? She was a smart girl. A girl who met a guy at a restaurant where she was waitressing, signed whatever he asked her to sign, stayed home like a good little wifey, cooking and remodeling while he went off looking for the next eighteen-year-old girl to satisfy his urges. Who sat in that big old house alone year after year while he traveled the world, sometimes for months at a time. Who got hit when she complained about it. The girl who thought all of that was just fantastic could probably tell you if that prenuptial agreement she didn’t even read until she was twenty-five was legal.”

  “I’m sorry,” Josie said.

  Tears glistened in Marisol’s eyes. “Vera was my friend. I know it sounds stupid, but she was a good friend to me. We cooked up this plan. We were stupid and young, and I was scared shitless. But I knew that if we pulled it off, Vera would take good care of the baby, and she did. She was a wonderful mother. Much better than I would have been. At least until Beverly got a little older and started to act out.”

  “Vera got frustrated and called you,” Josie said. “She wanted you to take Beverly.”

  Connie took a step closer to Marisol, staring into her friend’s face as though she were a complete stranger. “You did all of this?” she asked incredulously.

  Ignoring her, Marisol sniffed and addressed Josie. “I don’t know if she was serious about that or if she was just venting but yeah. I told her there was no way. We couldn’t undo what we’d done. We couldn’t just come clean. I offered her more money. I was able to funnel money to her for years until Beverly pushed her down the steps. Kurt gave me an allowance for spa treatments, clothes, getting my hair done, stuff like that. I cut back on a lot of things and gave the cash to Vera. Then she got hooked on pills and there was never enough money for her. She wouldn’t leave me alone and then Kurt—fucking pervert Kurt—met Beverly across the street from that old theater. She worked at some pizza place or something.”

  “It was an ice cream shop,” Josie said.

  Marisol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. That was his MO though. He’d go to these shitty eating spots where college girls would be working and he’d pick them up, have a little fun with them and move on. Except Beverly wasn’t a college kid.”

  “She looked like one,” Josie said.

  Marisol nodded. “Yeah. She did. Anyway, I found out about it. I knew about all his girls. I tried to keep tabs. I was waiting for a good blackmail opportunity, but it never seemed right.”

  Connie’s hands shot out, pushing Marisol violently. Stumbling back, Marisol nearly went over the ledge. Her feet scrabbled to gain purchase, the mud disappearing beneath her in rapid fashion. Josie leapt toward her, falling onto her stomach, and grabbing both of Marisol’s wrists. The stiches in her leg burned. “Help me,” she shouted to Gretchen.

  Gretchen knelt on the ground, trying to find a place on the ledge that wouldn’t give way and reached over, helping Josie to pull Marisol back onto the ledge. Once she was safely back over, Marisol sat on her rear, chest heaving. She glared at Connie. “What is your problem?”

  Connie pointed an accusing finger at her. “My problem? My problem is that you’re a lying, conniving bitch with no backbone!”

  “Oh piss off, Connie, with your perfect marriage and your perfect kids and your charitable foundation. You make me sick. Always judging everything.”

  Josie and Gretchen stood, brushing the mud from their jeans, positioning themselves closer to Connie in case she tried to knock Marisol into the water again. Josie tried to ignore the pain in her thigh.

  Hysterical laughter bubbled up from Connie’s throat. “Me? Judging you? You gave your kid up. You covered up her murder! You slept with Silas.”

  “You slept with Silas too.”

  Connie shook her head as if to shake off the accusation. “You did all this and then you used my foundation to keep up the lie. That could ruin our lives if it gets out!”

  Marisol heaved herself to her feet. “You’re the one talking about going to the police. Well, here we are! With the police.”

  “You’re a criminal, Mar. You could have left Kurt decades ago. Instead, you let him take advantage of girl after girl. You let him beat you. You let him sleep with your own daughter!”

  “I didn’t let him beat me. Jeez, Connie. Here you go again, judging the rest of us through the lens of your perfect, easy life. You think it’s a simple thing to divorce someone who has nearly killed you on more than one occasion? And for your information, I didn’t let Kurt sleep with Beverly!” Marisol shouted. “It just happened, and I confronted him. I never told him who she was or how I even knew her. I just said I’d seen them together and that I’d followed her and found out she was a high school student. We had the fight to end all fights. He broke my wrist. I knew he wasn’t going to stop seeing her and the whole thing was just too gross—”

  Connie said, “So you drank until you forgot about it?”

  “No, I asked Vera to intervene, to talk to Beverly.”

  “But Beverly was already furious with Vera, resentful,” Josie cut in. “She thought Vera was hiding her father’s identity from her.”

  “Well, she was,” Marisol said. “But yeah, Beverly wasn’t about to listen. Then she got pregnant. Vera and I were trying to figure out what to do. I knew that Kurt would not want that baby. He never wanted children. I knew it would end in disaster. We didn’t know what to do and then he killed her. Vera ran off. She came to me. She was terrified and upset. A complete mess. She wanted to go to the police.”

  “But you convinced her no
t to.”

  “I couldn’t risk it. What if my secret came out?”

  “Vera had brought Beverly up as her own daughter,” Josie said. “She just went along with it?”

  “Not at first,” Marisol said. “It took a lot of convincing to get her to go along with my plan, but she did. I told her that Kurt would kill us both if we tried going to the police—or if she went to the police without me, he’d bury her, literally and figuratively. I offered her a life of luxury. All she had to do was shut up, take my money, sit on her ass with her cat, and watch TV.”

  “Until Beverly’s body was found.”

  Marisol said, “We never knew what he did with it. When Vera saw it on the news, she came back. She took an Uber or something. Showed up on my doorstep. I don’t know what she was thinking.”

  “She was thinking that it was time to do the right thing.”

  “And Kurt killed her for it,” Marisol said.

  “No,” Josie said. “He didn’t. He had no idea she was even still alive. He never even knew she’d witnessed the murder. She didn’t come to him and tell him she would finally come clean. She came to you, and she said she was going to talk. Tell the police everything. Every last detail.”

  Connie whimpered. “You killed Vera?”

  Marisol turned back to her friend and stared at her for a long beat. From the corner of her eye, Josie saw Marisol’s hands disappear into her jacket pockets again.

  “Marisol, stop!” Gretchen cried, but it was too late.

  Her right hand pulled a pistol from her pocket. Before she even pointed it at Connie, Josie had her own weapon unholstered and aimed at Marisol’s chest. Gretchen stepped up beside Josie. She, too, had her weapon trained on Marisol.

  “Stop,” Josie told her. “Don’t move.”

  Marisol took a single half-step toward Connie and pressed the barrel of the gun into Connie’s forehead. Connie’s voice was high and squeaky, almost incredulous, as if what was happening wasn’t real. “Mar, stop! Do you even know how to use that thing?”

  Marisol nudged Connie’s head with the barrel of the gun. “I do. Guess who taught me? My loving husband. Ironic, isn’t it? He wanted me to be able to defend myself at home while he was traveling. I hoped one day I’d be able to use it on him, and I did.”

  She’d also intended to kill Connie when she brought her out here, Josie realized.

  When Marisol didn’t lower the gun, Connie cried, “Mar, what are you doing?”

  Gretchen said, “Marisol, calm down. Put your weapon down. There’s no need for this.”

  Marisol rolled her eyes. “No need for this? You’re the police. I just told you everything. You think I’m just going to let you slap some cuffs on me and march me to jail?”

  Josie said, “You’re outgunned.”

  Marisol laughed and needled Connie’s skin with the gun barrel. “Oh really? You think one of you can shoot me before I kill Connie? Isn’t that a whole thing with cops? Aren’t you supposed to preserve life or something? I’ve got a hostage. Don’t you have to negotiate with me?”

  “We can talk,” Josie told her. “But not like this.”

  A full-body shudder engulfed Connie’s body. Her face was so pale it looked translucent. She said, “She’s going to kill me. If she killed Vera and Kurt, she’ll kill me.”

  Marisol didn’t deny it.

  In her periphery, Josie saw Gretchen inching closer to Connie. She tried to keep Marisol’s attention on her. “Killing Kurt was a lot easier than killing Vera though, wasn’t it?”

  Marisol stared at Josie with narrowed eyes.

  Gretchen stepped closer to Connie.

  Josie kept talking. “Did Kurt lie for you? He was your alibi for Vera’s murder. Did he know you had killed her?”

  Marisol shook her head. “I told him I was going for a run that morning. He had no clue. Then someone from the police called to ‘verify’ my alibi. He said I was home because he assumed I’d just taken a jog right here in the neighborhood but when he got the call about coming to the station to talk about Beverly and Vera Urban, he knew something was up. That’s what started our argument.”

  “The one that led to Kurt’s death?” Josie asked.

  “Yes. He beat me until I told him everything. I tried to tell him it was going to be okay because Vera was finally gone. I killed her so the whole thing would go away.”

  “How could you do it?” Connie whined. “How could you kill her?”

  “Shut up!” Marisol hollered.

  Connie blanched, shrinking back toward the tree, slouching down a little. Gretchen was almost on top of her, even though her gun was still pointed at Marisol. Josie felt a tiny wave of relief that for a moment, the barrel of the gun wasn’t on Connie’s head. Still, she whimpered. “Vera was your friend! How could you?”

  “Friends keep secrets, Con,” Marisol shot back. “Vera wasn’t a true friend. After all I did for her, she wasn’t going to keep my secrets. Just like you.”

  Forty-Nine

  Everything seemed to slow down, the seconds clicking coldly by, like the blinking of an eye. Blink. Marisol’s finger depressed the trigger. Blink. The concussive boom of a gunshot shook the air around them. Blink. Gretchen lunged toward Connie. Blink. Josie fired at Marisol. Blink. Another crack blistered through the air. Blink. Gretchen and Connie went down hard on the ground. Blink. The world fell out from beneath them.

  It took another blink for Josie to realize what had happened. She was falling. Then water engulfed her. Sludge and tree roots slid down onto her head. Her mouth opened, only to take in soil and thick, grimy water.

  Landslide.

  Her limbs fought to find the surface. She opened her eyes but there was only blackness all around her. The water was thick with dirt, making it nearly impossible to move through it or even to breathe. More weight fell onto her head. That has to be up, a voice in her head told her. The surface. She kicked and punched through the sludge. Something latched onto her hand and pulled. Striving toward it, she kicked harder. Finally, her head broke the surface. Hacking, she reached her fingers into her mouth and tried to clear it of the debris from the landslide. The dirt was gritty in her teeth. Clearing her eyes, she looked around. Neck-deep in the dirty water stood Connie.

  “Thank you,” Josie told her. Frantically, she panned the area. The entire ledge had fallen into the moat. The trees behind it were now horizontal, hanging above their heads.

  “We have to get out of here,” Josie told Connie. She took the woman’s hand and together, they fought their way further out into the water where the muck dissipated and their limbs could move more freely. As they moved away from Quail Hollow and toward the adjacent neighborhood, the floodwater grew deeper and colder. On the tips of her toes, Josie could just keep her chin out of the water.

  “Have you seen Gretchen?” Josie asked. “My colleague?”

  Connie shook her head.

  Josie looked around again. A loud, eerie creaking sound filled the air, and the trees slowly began to upend into the moat.

  Where was Gretchen?

  Please don’t be dead, Josie prayed.

  Josie turned as she heard splashing behind her. Marisol swam away from them, toward the houses in the distance. They were at least a mile away. Josie didn’t know how strong a swimmer Marisol was, but she wasn’t letting her get away.

  “Stay here,” Josie told Connie. “Look for my friend.”

  With long, even strokes, Josie swam after Marisol. “Stop!” Josie shouted.

  Marisol paused when Josie was within a foot of her. She turned and flew at Josie. Josie tried to balance on her toes to keep her head above the water. Throwing her hands up, she attempted to block Marisol, but she slid her arms through Josie’s and wrapped her fingers around Josie’s throat, squeezing. Josie thrashed against her and fell backward into the water. Her fingers worked at Marisol’s hands, trying to pry them loose as Marisol pushed her and held her beneath the water. Josie floundered until her feet found purchase and she tried
to push up, to break the water’s surface and find air, but Marisol held her firmly under the water. Josie’s lungs burned. She abandoned her efforts to loosen Marisol’s grip on her throat and instead threw her fists, trying to find some part of Marisol’s body. When that didn’t work, she went back to work on Marisol’s death grip, scrabbling to find Marisol’s fingers. She was beginning to black out when she felt a long fingernail. She snapped it back and Marisol’s grip loosened just enough for Josie to push away.

  Swatting Marisol’s hands away, Josie’s head punched up above the water and she gulped air. She got one deep inhale before Marisol was on her again, screaming, her hands grabbing at Josie’s clothes, her arms, her throat, her hair. Josie wanted to punch her, to subdue her, but in the water, all of her training was useless. They thrashed and flopped, locked in battle with Marisol trying to hold Josie under the water long enough to kill her and Josie fighting to get air in her lungs long enough to fight Marisol off. How was this woman so strong?

  Desperation, Josie thought. This was the pure adrenaline of a woman desperate to keep her secrets, to escape her past. Josie knew a thing or two about wanting to escape the past. With renewed vigor, her arms and legs surged, as she twisted out of Marisol’s grip and landed a solid kick to her ribs. As Josie sucked in more air, she was dimly aware of noises around them. Someone shouting, and some other noise. A hum of some kind.

  Josie paddled away from Marisol, taking the few precious seconds she had while Marisol recovered from the kick to her ribs. She needed to regroup. She’d always been a strong swimmer, but the tussle had taken a lot out of her. But again, Marisol’s adrenaline drove her. She caught up with Josie and gripped one of her legs, pulling her back under the water. Josie kicked up and out of her grasp, breaking the surface again, coughing so violently that a devastating streak of pain seared across her chest. Then Marisol was pulling her back down beneath the water. She flailed again and her vision grayed.

  Then, suddenly, she was free. She turned back to see Gretchen, a vision in mud, holding a fistful of Marisol’s hair. Profound relief streaked through Josie’s entire body. Marisol still thrashed, trying to get away from Gretchen. Josie drew closer to help Gretchen get her under control when something bumped against the back of her head. She turned to see the bright red of a rescue boat. Paddling in place, she wiped strands of her hair from her face. A hand reached down to her. “Come on,” said a familiar voice.