“Nonno? He gave you car keys? I don’t understand.” Joy frowned.
“I didn’t think too much about it. The keys belonged to a Cadillac, as far as I could tell. I just tossed them in the back of my safe and went about my work. I saw Beppe later that night. Your grandfather brought him over and asked me to help stitch him up. He had a cut on his head. He wouldn’t tell me how he got it. In fact, both of them were acting really strange. Beppe wouldn’t say a word or even look at me. Your grandfather kept talking a mile a minute, but refusing to address any questions at all.”
Joy felt her stomach tying itself into knots. The more she heard of this story, the worse it sounded.
“Then, on Tuesday, we learned that Lauren had been found.” Her father closed his eyes for a second. “Her car was a Cadillac. And she was alone in the car, so it was quickly ruled an accident and that was that.”
“Dad, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I was a fool and a coward,” her father admitted. “By the time I put two and two together, it was already too late. Plus, I was never sure, you see. It became this big unspoken thing between me, the brothers and your grandfather. Then, you were born and I was scared that I’d be implicated for covering up a crime if it ever came out. It wasn’t just about me anymore. It was the entire family. You know how close your mother is to her family - she’d be destroyed if anything happened to any of them.”
“Does Mom know?”
“About Beppe? No. I could never tell her. Though Pietro did tell Giulia, for whatever reason. So only your Nonno, Pietro, Giulia and I knew about it.” He looked at her with pleading eyes. “Tell me you understand, Joy.”
“I don’t.” Her face was hard. Her insides felt like they were swirling around a drain. “All my life you raised me to be good and honorable and do the right thing. Now you’re telling me that an uncle I love so much is a murderer?”
“I don’t know if he is,” her father said. “That’s the horrible thing. I’m almost sure but…I don’t know…and now it’s too late to make all this public.”
“But how could you stand to be around Uncle Beppe after that?” Joy asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it any better than that I never thought about the whole situation. I just kept living my life,” her father said. “And Beppe’s a good man at heart. You can’t tell me he isn’t. He started drinking hard after Lauren died, almost as though he were drowning some part of himself. He’s been eaten up with guilt all these years.”
“And what about Nonno? Whatever you did, I can understand - you had doubts and you didn’t want to destroy Mom’s family over it. But Nonno clearly knew Beppe was guilty. He helped him cover it up.”
“Your grandfather loved his kids,” her father said. “It’s as simple as that. It might not be the right thing and it might not be the ethical thing, but if you came to me tomorrow and said you needed help hiding a body…I’d have a shovel and pick ready to go.”
“Dad...” Joy could see that he was telling the truth, it was reflected in his eyes. It horrified her to think it. Then again, it didn’t. Her family was weird like that. They’d have petty arguments and play pranks on each other and have long running grudges but, at the end of the day, they were willing to close ranks and shut the world out if one of their members should need it. That’s exactly what had happened with Uncle Beppe.
“But wait,” Joy said. “So you think that Chip’s murder is somehow related to Lauren’s?”
“I suspect it. After Lauren died, her entire family sort of dissolved. Her father died, her mother moved away to Canada and started a new family. Her brother, he was always hot-headed. He moved away to New York City and got into petty crime. The last I heard of him he was in jail for stealing cars.”
“Lauren’s brother.” Joy tapped a finger against her chin. “What was his name?”
“Trevor Sullivan,” her father said. “I think Trevor’s back in town and taking revenge on us all now. That also explains why he got confused about the houses. Right?”
“Look, Dad, I’m shocked you hid this for so long,” Joy said. “But…but I don’t think your theory makes much sense to me. For one, why would Trevor randomly start killing all this time later? For another, why target you first? Why target Uncle Pietro? Why not target Beppe?”
Her father shrugged. “I don’t know. Anger could be driving him crazy. A crazy man’s actions are never logical.”
“Actually,” Joy said. “I’ve found that within the framework of their own beliefs, people are unfailingly logical. You and I might look at a single action and think it’s irrational but, if we knew the beliefs behind the action, we could make some sort of sense out of it, even if we don’t agree.” She paused. “The same way I can make sense of why you, Nonno and Pietro helped Beppe cover this up. Even if I don’t agree with it at all.”
Her father slumped in shame. “Sometimes I think it would have been better if Beppe had just confessed and gone to jail. He would have been out by now. Instead, he’s slowly drinking himself to death. He’s convicted himself and is inflicting his own punishment.”
*****
Chapter 15
A New Chapter
Technically, this would be Aurora’s first day at her new job. But what a horrible way to start - with news of the explosion at the café. As she showered and got dressed, all Aurora could think of was Joy’s family. She had to admit to herself that she’d never had as much fun in her life as she’d had at the party. Joy’s family had made her feel like she was one of their own, even if she had felt shy at times. Even Joy seemed to be warming up to Aurora now.
By the end of the party, Aurora had actually grown rather fond of Aunt Giulia and her persistent efforts to improve Aurora’s limp pastas. Finding out about the accident this morning had made her head spin. Joy had texted her to say that everyone was safe, but Aurora still wished there was something she could do.
She had planned out her clothes the night before: a buttery-yellow top, slacks, and a sensible herringbone cardigan. She buttoned up in front of an old mirror, then added two tiny, silver earrings. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to focus on work instead. Aunt Giulia and Uncle Pietro probably wouldn’t want any visitors anyway.
When she reached the office, Max was locked away in a conference room fielding phone calls. He gestured at her through the glass door and Aurora dutifully headed to where he was pointing. Five cardboard boxes sat on the floor, clearly removed from some long forgotten basement. Aurora knew she had to get started on organizing them all.
She didn’t know where she got her love of organizing, but she knew she’d had it since she was a child. There was an everyday magic about taking a cluttered space, be it a drawer or a room or a house, and then transforming it. She felt like a fairy godmother sometimes, as though she’d waved her wand and helped a place become something new.
Or perhaps it was that, in a complex world, cleaning gave your mind a break and your hands something useful to do. Organizing a space was so definite. She could clean out a place and leave it sparkling, she could rearrange furniture and make a room look neater, or just organize a file and know in the back of her mind that it was all ready for her to use whenever she needed it. All in all, in a messy world, she could use effort and make it orderly again.
But real life wasn’t like that. Real life had a scary tendency to stay messy, even if she tried hard to make it better. In real life, she had a million questions that remained unanswered. Questions like: was Joy actually warming up to her now, or would she turn moody and angry again? Or, more importantly, was a killer loose in this small town? Would he target someone else next?
Questions like this scared her because she couldn’t even begin to imagine how she would find out the answers. She’d found out at an early age that life had teeth and could bite you if you made the wrong move. Hopefully, her decision to move to this town wouldn’t end up on a list of life-long regrets. But she had already moved here. There was nothing she cou
ld do now except see where her decision led her.
She sighed. This low hum of anxiety running through the back of her mind was the last thing she wanted on the first day of her new job. It was all thanks to that accident at the café - it had spooked her badly. Taking a deep breath, she decided to plunge herself into her work. That would clear her mind.
The boxes held a mixture of loose-leaf paper, notes, newspaper clippings and files. One newspaper clipping was as old as Aurora herself. She lifted it up and stared. The headline said, “Local Woman Dies In Tragic Car Accident.” Aurora read the name, Lauren Sullivan, and felt a flash of recognition. The bartender, Cole, had told her about Beppe’s love who died tragically young. Aurora read through the article, idly at first, and then with increasing interest. An anonymous tip had resulted in the police finding the car two days after Lauren was declared missing. The police chief had speculated that they would never have found her otherwise.
“The deceased was survived by her father, Arthur, and her brother, Trevor, Sullivan. Her mother had passed away of cancer five years prior.”
The phone on the front desk began ringing. Aurora looked up, expecting Max to answer it. However, he was still in the conference room, pacing around as he talked. She waited for a moment, then decided to take a message.
“Goggins Legal, this is Aurora. How may I help you?” She hoped she sounded professional - talking on the phone was something she normally dreaded.
“Hi, this is Kate from Pendant Publishing.” A pleasant voice on the other end said. “May I talk to Mr. Goggins?”
Assuming she meant Max, Aurora answered, “He’s in a meeting right now. Can I take a message?”
“It’s about his book. He was supposed to send us a new chapter, but it hasn’t been turned in yet. Could you give him a reminder?”
“A new chapter?” Aurora frowned. “A book?” She realized with dawning horror who this woman was really talking about. “Do…do you mean it’s Charlie Goggins you’re looking for?”
“Yes. Charlie Goggins had a contract with us to publish his book,” the woman explained.
Aurora winced. “Oh, you haven’t been informed yet.”
“Informed?”
“Charlie Goggins passed away recently,” Aurora said. “I’m sorry, I’ll have his nephew call you as soon as possible.”
“Oh, that’s horrible. He passed away? I only met him last week and he looked perfectly healthy!” Kate sounded distraught. “He was so excited - he told me that he had a new chapter planned. He said that it was quite a story and that we had to include it in his memoirs.”
“Did he say what it was about?” Aurora asked.
“He said he couldn’t divulge details without permission from other people involved, but that he was sure he’d get it.” Kate paused. “I don’t want to sound businesslike at a time like this, but do you think there’s a chance the nephew would know where the draft is? If Chip wrote the chapter, we might be interested in editing it into the book. After all, it’s what he would have wanted.”
“I’ll ask Max,” Aurora promised. “Didn’t Chip say anything at all about the content?”
“Just that it was epic and spanned decades,” Kate said. “You don’t have any clue what he was talking about?”
“Not a single one,” Aurora said. “I’ll get back to you, though. Thanks.”
She hung up the phone, turned around and nearly bumped into Max. “Oh.” She gave a little start. “I thought you were in the conference room still.”
“No, I’m done.” Max adjusted his glasses. “I couldn’t help overhear. That was Kate from Pendant?”
“Yes, do you know if—”
“No,” Max said sharply. “Uncle Chip never told me about any extra chapter.”
“Maybe we’ll find it when cleaning up,” Aurora said.
“I doubt we will.” Max shrugged. “A chapter like that would be in his personal papers, not here at the office. Plus, the police would have found it by now if it was important.”
“The police?” Aurora gave him a sharp look. “Why would they be interested in your uncle’s book?”
Max gave her a pointed look. “Motive. I’m sure they’ll be reading his draft very carefully to try and figure out who the killer is.”
“Then don’t you want to look for the extra chapter?” Aurora asked. “I mean, it could be an important clue. It could help solve everything.”
“I really doubt it would,” Max said.
“But—”
“Aurora, we can’t waste our time on this,” Max said. “Let the police do their job. I’m sure one of the officers will follow up with Pendant Publishing and find what they need. Meanwhile, I’ve had back to back calls all morning with different clients. I’ve got a list of files I need you to find for me, and another list you need to get organized for future reference.” He handed her a sheaf of papers. “And also, can you get me three copies of this? Let’s go.”
Aurora got to work and there was, indeed, a lot of it. There seemed to be an endless list of tasks to get done and not enough time for all of it. Clients kept calling all day, coffee had to be fetched, paperwork had to be turned in. By five, Aurora was exhausted and had totally forgotten all about Chip’s missing chapter.
It was only that night in bed that she sat up suddenly, an idea springing to her mind. What if the murderer had never been after the whole book? What if it was only the new chapter that he or she had wanted? The police probably didn’t even know that existed. She fell asleep again, promising to tell someone as soon as she could.
*****
Chapter 16
Splash
Joy couldn’t stop thinking about what her father had said. Wanting to be alone, she avoided Aurora as much as possible, closing herself up in her room instead. She hardly slept that night and, early in the morning, she slipped out of her house.
She drove over to her parents’ house, parked, then threw her car back in gear and drove into town instead. Somehow, she couldn’t face her father right now. What she needed was a long drive to clear her head. She cruised down Main Street, observing the world, filtering it.
Max Goggins was just leaving the donut shop, balancing two cups of coffee on a box of donuts, his phone pinched between his ear and his shoulder. Cole Murphy was turning into a lane in his pickup and he gave Joy a friendly “beep” as he passed her. Tim Heston was chatting with the owner of the hardware store, looking mild and unassuming, as always.
The café, which was usually crowded and lit up at this time of day was, instead, dark as a cave, projecting an aura of misfortune. Joy drove past it, then past the bar, across the tracks that marked the boundary of town and out onto the highway. Once there, she gunned her engine and let the speedometer climb.
Her car was a black coupe, one her parents had surprised her with on her twenty-first birthday. It suited Joy perfectly. A car, Joy had heard, could be an extension of one’s personality. Well, Prowler was hers. It was old, clunky, uncomfortable…and the only car she ever wanted to drive. Behind the wheel she felt like she was putting a physical distance between her and her father’s words. Only the road ahead mattered.
She envied Aurora and all her freedom. Aurora was a person unto herself - no family, no baggage. Joy was entwined with her family tree, unable to separate herself from all its history. She’d always been proud of that, but her father’s words had changed everything for her.
Could Uncle Beppe really be a murderer? Her Uncle Beppe? The uncle who had helped her get this very car in shape, who had introduced her to the joys of Scrabble on rainy nights, who had snuck her sweets when her mother had refused? In all her years of knowing Uncle Beppe, never once had she felt the slightest twinge of unease around him. Surely, if he had been a murderer, she would have known. She would have…felt it, somehow.
Joy sighed. She thought back to a case she’d handled in her early years as a reporter. A man in a neighboring town had gone crazy and barricaded his house, killed his wife, then himself. When
she spoke to the neighbors, some of whom had lived near him for twenty years, almost all of them sounded shocked that he was capable of such a thing.
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