Smoke and Mirrors (Sloane Monroe Book 8)

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “When did Hugh arrive at the house?”

  “He was on a flight back home from Sydney when Caroline and Grace would have returned after the movie. The plane arrived in Cairns a few minutes after ten. He had no checked bags, and there’s video surveillance showing him getting into his car at a quarter past ten. Police believe he went straight from the airport to Caroline’s house. Hugh had a key, so it’s likely he let himself in. What we don’t know is whether Caroline was alive when he arrived—if she’d been attacked yet or if she was already dead.”

  This led to another possibility. If Hugh had arrived and Caroline was dying or dead, and the killer was still there, perhaps Caroline had been the only intended victim, and Hugh had suffered the same fate because the killer was still in the house when he arrived and hadn’t made his escape yet.

  Or maybe Hugh had killed Caroline and was so distraught at what he’d done that he threw himself down the stairs.

  “Grace is sure she didn’t see or hear anyone else in the house?” I asked.

  “She swears the only person she saw was Hugh.”

  “She heard her mom scream. How long was it before she went to check on her and discovered she was dead?”

  “That part we’re a bit unsure about. At first, Grace didn’t know whether she was dreaming or if what she’d heard was real. When she realized something might have been wrong, initially she was scared. She didn’t go to her mum’s room right away, and we aren’t sure how many minutes passed before she was brave enough to walk down the hall and check things out.”

  “Where are the police in the way of suspects?”

  “Not far. As far as they can tell from those they’ve interviewed, everyone loved Caroline. They’re struggling to even find a motive for her death. Hugh, on the other hand, didn’t have the best reputation around him. Some people liked him, others didn’t. He was known to have an aggressive side in his younger years.”

  “Aggressive how?” I asked.

  “I went to school with Hugh. He was the kindest person one minute, and the next, he’d explode over something insignificant.”

  Sounded perfectly bipolar to me.

  “He dated one of my friends back then,” she said. “At one point, he even proposed, and for about a month, they were engaged.”

  “What happened?”

  “She didn’t say much about the breakup. She just said he was controlling and called all the shots in the relationship. That was twenty years ago, though. People change.”

  Sometimes. Other times they don’t.

  “Do you have any idea how he treated Caroline?” I asked.

  “I saw them out in the city a few times when they first got together. From what I could tell when I saw them, they seemed to have a good thing going.”

  “Have you heard of any incidents involving Hugh since high school?”

  “Only one. Last year, police were called to a brewery downtown. Caroline had walked up to the bar to get a round of drinks, and a guy put his hand on Caroline’s shoulder. Assuming the guy was hitting on her, Hugh came over and threw a punch at the guy without even saying a word. Both men were tossed out of the bar, and when the police arrived, Hugh was arrested, but the guy he punched dropped the charges. I guess he was also a therapist. Hugh apologized, and the guy let it go.”

  In the time we’d been sitting together, Victoria had continually rubbed her hands together, one over the other, like a nervous tic. She’d told me far more than I had expected, but I believed something big was missing from the overall narrative. What I couldn’t figure out was whether it was something she couldn’t tell me, didn’t want to tell me, or just couldn’t bring herself to say. I didn’t have her trust yet, and she didn’t have mine, but a level of comfort existed between us that had formed the first time we’d met. I decided it was best not to try and get it out of her just yet, figuring I had a better chance of her revealing whatever it was in her own time.

  “I appreciate you sharing information with me,” I said. “You didn’t have to, and it really helps me out that you did. It gives me a good place to start.”

  “James must think a lot of you. He wouldn’t have asked you to come all this way otherwise.”

  I wasn’t sure what he thought of me, but he’d seen how committed I was at working my cases all the way through.

  “Speaking of him, I should probably get moving. Is there anything else I should know before we go?”

  We sat in silence for a time while she pondered the question. Ordinarily, I found silence between two people for any length of time to be awkward, but as awkward as it was, I thought waiting it out might be just what she needed to say what hadn’t been said. Sadly, I was disappointed.

  “I think that’s all for now,” she said. “If there’s anything else, I have your number.”

  We returned to the car and drove out of the parking garage. One minute, we were engaging in small talk as she wound around the streets of the city, and the next, I was drifting in and out of consciousness. The car came to a stop, and when my eyes opened, I glanced around, realizing she hadn’t taken me to James’ office. She’d driven me to my hotel.

  “I thought you were taking me to meet James,” I said.

  “I was, but you’re exhausted, Sloane. You might want to get some rest first and see James later. I can let him know I talked to you and dropped you at the hotel, if you like.”

  I shook my head. At this point, it was better coming from me. “That’s okay. I’ll go check in, splash some water on my face, and see if he still wants to see me today. Maybe we can talk over the phone and visit in person tomorrow.”

  I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the car. As I turned to walk toward the hotel, Victoria’s passenger-side window came down. She leaned over and said, “Hey, Sloane, there’s umm ... one more thing, something that’s been bugging me that you should probably know.”

  I assumed I was about to find out what she hadn’t told me earlier. “What is it?”

  “It’s Caroline’s autopsy. She wasn’t just stabbed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There was a considerable amount of bruising on her back and chest, and a bruise on one of her shoulders in the shape of a thumbprint.”

  “Do you think they were related to the night of the murder?”

  “I don’t. They weren’t fresh, meaning they weren’t inflicted the night she was killed. I believe Caroline was in some kind of physical altercation recently.”

  I assumed the senator knew of the bruising, but he hadn’t mentioned it over the phone. “Any idea how old the bruises are?”

  “Fresh bruises tend to be reddish-blue or purple in color. The bruises on Caroline were brownish-green. Bruises can be tricky things to put a timeline on, but based on the discoloration of her skin, I’d guess they were at least a week old. I don’t know if what happened prior to her death has anything to do with why she was murdered, but something happened to Caroline before the night she died, and no one seems to know anything about it.”

  I tipped my head back on the pillow, thinking I would relax for a few minutes before calling the senator, but it didn’t take long before I succumbed to the sleep I so desperately needed. I woke sometime later to a dark room and the sound of someone knocking on my hotel room door. I stumbled out of bed and switched on a floor lamp, glancing in the mirror as I willed my unrested body toward the door. From the looks of things, I’d seen better days. A lot better. I had black mascara smeared across one of my cheeks, and my short, dark hair looked like it had been sucked into a vacuum. It wasn’t ideal or presentable, but there wasn’t time to do anything about it.

  I opened the door, and the senator looked me up and down, blinking a few times like he was unsure how to react to the hot mess standing before him.

  He narrowed his eyes and said, “Were you sleeping?”

  His tone of voice made me feel like a schoolgirl being scolded by the principal.

  “I meant to meet up with you earlier,” I said. “I really
did.”

  “And then?”

  “I sat on the bed and fell asleep.”

  He shook his head. “I’m confused.”

  “About what?”

  “Were you planning to meet with me right after you went to see Victoria, or after the two of you took a leisurely stroll in the park, or after you dropped by your hotel for some shut-eye? Or not at all? If you needed sleep, all you had to do was tell me, but you should have checked in and let me know what was going on, at the very least.”

  He looked irritated.

  I didn’t blame him.

  He also seemed a lot skinnier than I remembered, or maybe the difference was the muscle tone he used to have now appeared to be gone. Losing a loved one changed a person, and generally, it wasn’t for the better.

  “I should have met with you right after I arrived,” I said. “I just thought I’d get right to work, so I went to see Victoria, and I lost track of time. Then she dropped me off here, and I—”

  “My idea of you getting ‘right to work’ would have been for you to meet with me shortly after you landed.”

  Lack of sleep often went hand in hand with a lack of me being able to keep my mouth shut when it was better to do so. I felt myself reeling, and there was little I could do to stop it. Even so, it was worth a try. “I was going to call you when I arrived at the hotel, and like I said, I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to ... it just happened.”

  “You’re working for me. I expect better communication than this.”

  Rebuked a second time.

  My attempt at self-control had all but dissolved.

  “You hired me, yes,” I said, “but I work for myself, and I’ll do things the way I see fit. And by the way, I don’t need your father following me around, keeping tabs on what I’m doing. I can’t do my job if I feel like I’m being scrutinized and tattled on.”

  “You honestly think I sent my dad to pick you up at the airport so he could keep an eye on you?” He bowed his head and sighed. “Since Caroline died, my dad’s been worried—about me, about Grace, about everyone and everything. When he’s not with Grace, he’s hanging around my office. And while I appreciate his concern, I’m not getting enough work done. I thought having him pick you up would give him something to do while offering you transportation at the same time. It was an attempt to be polite and make sure you had someone to help you get where you needed to go.”

  He had a superb ability for making me feel small. If there were a hole, I would have crawled into it. All I could do now was to try to make peace.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Dad’s a retired chief superintendent of police. Having him with you today kept you safe.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before I arrived, or even when I arrived?”

  “I didn’t realize I needed to in order for you not to make false assumptions.”

  Nothing I said seemed to make things better.

  “I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he said. “I think it would be best if you went home.”

  He turned and started to walk away, leaving me there, speechless, and feeling like a real idiot.

  The man was grieving, and while I hadn’t slept for hours, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  I stepped into the hallway and called after him. “Wait, Senator Ashby. Please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you waiting today, and I want you to know I’m fully committed to helping you in any way I can. Give me another chance to prove it to you.”

  He didn’t look back. He didn’t even acknowledge me. He rounded the corner and disappeared. I did the walk of shame back into my hotel room and closed the door, disappointed with my behavior. I sat on the bed, pondering whether there was anything I could do to salvage what had just happened. Around my third or fourth bad idea, there was a knock on my door again.

  “How’s Grace?” I asked.

  The senator sat on a chair, considering my question. “All right, I suppose. She’s emotional. Missing her mother. She knows what happened, but she’s confused about it. When she thinks back to that night, she says it all feels like a dream. She wakes up sometimes in the middle of the night and calls out for Caroline. Sleep makes her forget Caroline isn’t around anymore.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her to make sense of it all,” I said.

  “In some ways, I suppose I’m in denial too. Even after the funeral, and even though I know my sister’s gone, I’m struggling to accept it. I guess it’s because I don’t want it to be true. I want to look up from my desk and see her sweet smile and hear her voice as she tells me she’s stopped by my office to bring me a coffee or to take me to lunch.”

  I had experienced the same pain he was feeling now, so I knew what he was going through. I also knew he was bound to feel worse before he felt better. My thoughts turned to Grace.

  “Will you be keeping your niece, or will she be going to live with someone else in the family?” I asked.

  “I have an older sister and a younger brother who have both offered to take her, but I’m keeping Grace with me. I’m closer to her than they are. It’s better this way, especially since she has Down syndrome. I understand what she needs better than they do.”

  He turned, staring out the window at nothing, and for a moment, we sat in silence, listening to the sound of bats shrieking in the distance.

  A couple minutes went by before he spoke again.

  “Grace keeps asking to go to the house,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “She says it’s to get more of her things, but I believe it’s because the house reminds her of Caroline, and because it’s home. The only home she’s ever known.”

  “Why haven’t you taken her?”

  “In my opinion, it would have a negative effect on her. It’s not my intention to deny her what she needs, but right now, my focus is on helping her get her life back to whatever kind of normal it can be, even though I expect it to be a process, one that takes some time.”

  “Is there anything I can do for her while I’m here?”

  “You can help solve her mother’s murder so we can put all this behind us and move on.”

  When he spoke of the murders, his focus was solely on Caroline. It was almost as if Hugh hadn’t died along with her. I understood why his sister was his primary concern, but it seemed odd how dismissive he was about Hugh. It was possible they hadn’t had a good relationship. Or maybe I was making something out of nothing, and James hadn’t said much about him because he knew once we found the killer, both murders would be solved.

  “What was your relationship with Hugh?” I asked.

  He stared at me like I had asked a trick question. “Why do you ask?”

  “I still don’t know much about him.”

  “There’s not much to say. We weren’t close. I didn’t know him well. I never thought Hugh was a good fit for my sister. Caroline was well aware of my feelings, but she didn’t agree, and after I voiced my concerns about their relationship, she made it clear she wasn’t interested in hearing what I thought of him. After that, he wasn’t a topic we discussed.”

  “What didn’t you like about him?”

  “My disdain wasn’t about one specific thing as much as it was about how different they were as people. Hugh was a laborer. He worked in construction. Caroline was a psychologist. One of the best in the country.”

  “Are you saying you had a problem with him because he wasn’t in the same working class?”

  He nodded. “People say opposites attract, and who knows, maybe they do in some situations. I just didn’t see her with him long-term. He didn’t fit into our world.”

  I wondered what world he thought I fit into and whether he considered me to be on a much lower level than himself.

  “Did Hugh know how you felt about him?”

  “I’m sure he did. I’ve never been one to hide the way I feel. I don’t see the point. The last time I saw him was at a barbecue for Grace’s birthday. I
spoke to him just like I’d speak to anyone else. Even though I wasn’t fond of him, I was always polite whenever the two of us were together.”

  I switched topics. “I know Grace is going through a difficult time, but I’d like to talk to her. I’d be careful to keep things simple. What do you think?”

  He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. “Grace is too fragile right now, Sloane. I’ll help you in any way I can, but she has been through enough in recent weeks. I don’t want her answering any more questions about what happened that night. Not unless she absolutely has to do it.”

  It was the response I expected, and I understood his desire to protect her. But in order to get the full story, I needed to hear the details of that night from her perspective, instead of hearing it second-hand through everyone else. For now, I would have to wait.

  “Did you know Victoria found bruises on Caroline’s body during the autopsy?”

  “I did.”

  “Any idea where they came from?”

  He crossed one leg over the other and sighed, which seemed to answer my question. He didn’t know, and it bothered him.

  “She didn’t say anything to me about the bruises,” he said. “I wasn’t made aware until Victoria showed them to me.”

  “Victoria said one of the bruises looks like it’s in the shape of a thumbprint. If that’s true, it would lead me to suspect Caroline had an altercation with someone before she died.”

  “Speculating it’s a thumbprint and proving it are two different things. Victoria hasn’t been able to prove it yet.”

  “Let’s say it is. Could Hugh have done it?”

  “I would like to think if he had, she would have told me.”

  I disagreed. Caroline knew her brother didn’t like Hugh. If Hugh was capable of inflicting the bruises, there’s a chance she would have kept it secret, out of fear of what would happen if she revealed it, or out of not wanting to disappoint her brother even further than she already had. She may have even been ashamed.

  “What was their relationship like right before she died?”