Jon's Spooky Corpse Conundrum

by A J Sherwood

  “English, hon,” Neil requested patiently.

  Caleb put a hand on the right side of his torso, right below the ribs. “Here. I don’t think that’s what killed him, though. There wasn’t much blood around the wound on my first examination. The wound across his throat indicates the killer tried one weapon, and when that failed, picked up something with a sharp edge and slit his throat instead.”

  Jon’s keen interest was snared and he temporarily set aside eating in favor of facts. “Any defensive wounds?”

  “None. I’ll bet a month’s salary both wounds were inflicted while Witherspoon was either comatose or unconscious. I’m also positive he died in bed. He wasn’t placed there afterwards.” Caleb’s eyes unfocused as he stared straight ahead for a moment. “I believe the murderer’s first attempts failed. He had to make changes on the fly, hence why there’s so many different things happening in this case. Really, it’s rather ridiculous. Witherspoon was drugged, stabbed, and slashed.”

  It reminded me of that old story of Rasputin. Although I think it had taken seven attempts to actually kill him. Was Witherspoon so evil that someone had tracked him down here and doggedly tried again and again to kill him? Or was something else going on?

  “I know we don’t normally need a motive to close a case, but I can’t help but feel it would help us find the murderer,” Jon observed. “Right now we don’t even have the possibility of a suspect.”

  “We do have the people who filed a petition against the renovations,” Neil objected.

  Jon looked at him dryly. “You’re fishing.”

  Neil shrugged, not ashamed of admitting it. “I might as well poke it, see if anything stirs. I’m hoping his financials shed some light on the matter. I’d hate for a murder this brutal to turn into a cold case. Caleb, you didn’t find anything?”

  “No prints, certainly, and no DNA evidence. Of course, the fire obliterated a lot of trace evidence. Damn him.” Caleb went back to dinner with a sigh. “But I trust with a whole group of professionals, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “So, no pressure,” Jon drawled, although the quirks of his mouth showed he was mostly teasing.

  “Are your cases often like this?” his father inquired curiously.

  “Unfortunately, about half of them are strange. Really, Carol and I are only called in when the police are stumped. Either a lack of evidence or the pressure of needing a quick close is why we’re requested. Half of them are straightforward enough. The other half are head-scratching. Rather like this one.” Jon shrugged, not bothered. “Either way, it’s job security.”

  Neil snorted. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Donovan, it must have been strange for you. Going from army to police work, I mean.”

  “Not really. I was an MP for two years before leaving the army.” I didn’t want them to ask the obvious, why I left, and tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “It did take some getting used to. Jon doesn’t operate the way a policeman would. Poor Garrett’s still on that learning curve.”

  “He’s only been with us about two months,” Jon explained. “And it takes about six before you really feel like you know what you’re doing. I think he’s doing quite well. Especially since we tossed him into the deep end.”

  I grimaced. “We really did. He’s always been the type to swim and not sink, fortunately.”

  “Which case was this?” Caleb inquired.

  I let Jon tell the head-bopping story without much input from me, focusing instead on the excellent roast. It might have started out a little awkward, us staying here, but if dinner was any indication, things would go just fine.

  11

  Inevitably, my mother called me, demanding what the hell was going on. Natalie had told her some but not all, the traitor. I’d filled her in and now, of course, she wanted to hash this out in person. The family meeting I’d planned for the weekend got bumped up. Which required us driving back this morning, and then turning around tomorrow and going back to Sevierville. I wasn’t looking forward to eight hours on the road in two days, but what could I do? This needed to be resolved.

  Jim kindly gave me two personal days to deal with all this. I drove, Donovan playing phone tag with everyone to get them all at my place this evening. It took more than a few texts and calls to get it arranged, but people shifted their schedules around to make it happen. I think everyone was anxious to get their answers.

  I had an hour or so to unwind before I had to prepared for multiple people invading my space. Unhappy people at that. My family arrived more or less on time. I greeted them all as they came in, everyone but Skylar. I was glad she wasn’t here for this. I didn’t know how Donovan managed to arrange that but was grateful for it. This was inevitably going to get ugly, and I didn’t want my niece to see it.

  I could read their curiosity clearly as they came in. I urged them to sit, and they stretched out along the two couches, spouses next to each other. Aaron caught my eye, pointing discreetly at Rodger, and I shrugged a miniscule amount. It was a good guess from my darkly handsome brother-in-law that Rodger had screwed up somehow. We’d get to that.

  When everyone was comfortable, I found my own spot. I sat on the ottoman so I could face all four people. Donovan was in the chair next to me, looking for all the world at ease, but I could see the tension in him clearly enough. He was standing at the ready. Both of us were sure this would come down to a fight.

  Mostly because Rodger was in the room. Fights inevitably occurred with him nearby.

  “Jon, start at the beginning,” my mother demanded. Concern and unease beat like a drum along her lines, and she sat forward, as if she wanted to take my hand but wasn’t sure she should. “You’ve barely told me anything over the phone.”

  “I need to clarify something,” I informed her softly. I turned to my sister first. To my knowledge, Natalie had never lied or manipulated me before, and I wanted to straighten things out with her first. “Nat. Tell me one more time. When Dad asked Mom for a divorce, what happened?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her hands laced together as she studied me. “Well, he packed up and moved out. He sat us both down on the couch and explained that he loved us both but he couldn’t stay with Mom anymore. We saw him briefly at the courthouse when the judge awarded him partial custody, and the divorce went through. I didn’t see him at all again after that.”

  Truth so far. “Did he contact you? Calls, letters, anything?”

  “No.”

  Truth again. I’d mostly expected that answer. My sister was a straight shooter, and this lined up with what she’d always told me. Turning to my mother, I asked her as neutrally as I could, “Is all of that correct? He never called, never sent anything to us?”

  Lauren nodded slowly, her eyes on mine. “Yes, that’s right. We never heard from him again after that. I was at first surprised. He’d been adamant about staying a good father to you kids, but…well. I clearly didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.”

  Truth again. She really thought it had gone down that way. My memories of those early days were hazy. I’d only been seven, after all, but I remembered things took a turn for the worse at that point. Mostly because Rodger was over at the house constantly. I turned my eyes to him, and Rodger squirmed in his seat, unable to look back. “Or maybe you knew Caleb quite well. Maybe his silence was orchestrated by someone else.”

  Everyone was quick on the uptake, their heads snapping around to stare at Rodger. My mother especially—I could see the connections click into place, the realization dawn. “Rodger,” she hissed at him, voice rising, “what did you do?!”

  “Oh, he did quite a bit. Some of this is conjecture, but from what I know, from what Caleb’s told me, it’s the only thing that makes sense.” I stared at him and felt loathing rise like bile in the back of my throat. “You two had no idea, after all, so he’s the only possible culprit left. Every time Caleb called, he hung up the phone. Every letter or present sent was sent right back. He blocke
d Caleb Bane from ever reaching his family until he stopped trying, believing we didn’t want to have anything to do with him.”

  Rodger glared back at me, his stubbornness bulling forward. “How the hell would you know what happened?”

  “Because he told me. You were the only person who ever answered the phone. You never let him in the house if he showed up. It could only have been you blocking him.”

  Mom and Natalie both hissed in an angry breath, and my sister grabbed my hand in a painfully tight squeeze.

  “You’ve spoken to him?” Lauren demanded of me, and her lines spoke of old regret and hope. “I mean, really spoken to him?”

  Considering how angry I’d been most of my life where my father was concerned, I understood her surprise that I’d speak with the man. Ruefully, I admitted, “It wasn’t easy, not at first. But Mom…he utterly regrets losing contact with us. He was so, so apologetic about it. I know he’s sincere. He wants to reconnect with his children. He was blown away to hear he’s a grandfather too. I realize things were rocky between you, but he never intended to abandon us.”

  My mother sat there for a long second, and I could see the blood drain from her face. Zombies had better color than she did in that moment. It didn’t take a telepath to watch her go over those early days in her divorce, the events that had happened, and start putting the missing pieces together.

  She slowly turned her head to look at Rodger. Her emotions ran so high they were like a pulsing neon sign, shouting disbelief, strain, and desperate hope. Almost forty years of a relationship wasn’t so easily broken, but I could see the initial cracks. Her faith in Rodger had just taken a massive blow—not that he knew it yet.

  “I never did call Caleb myself…” she whispered, wide blue eyes stunned. “It was so hard for me to face him after he moved out. Rodger always made the call for me….”

  Oh god, Mom, really?

  Her expression abruptly hardened. “Jon. I have two questions I need answers to.”

  I nodded carefully. I’d seen my mother in this mood before. Serial killers moved out of her way when she got like this. Even I wasn’t sure which way she’d jump. “Sure.”

  “Rodger, look at me.”

  Rodger (un)wisely did just that. He eyed her carefully as well, as if not sure what she’d do. “Lauren, I know this news is upsetting for you—”

  “Interesting, you assume I’m upset my ex-husband finally got in contact with his children. That he’s trying to rebuild a relationship with them. I’m not at all upset about that.”

  His confusion mounted steadily, the first flashes of concern speeding through him. “I don’t understand, why wouldn’t you be? That man abandoned them. You can’t trust them with him.”

  “You really think Jon would be telling us this, that he would be bridging us over to Caleb, if Caleb couldn’t be trusted?” Lauren shook her head in bewilderment. “It’s like you don’t know Jon at all. It’s like you think I have no faith in his judgement. On the contrary, Rodger, I find his judgement impeccable. In fact, I’m ashamed I haven’t listened to him more often. I think I would have saved us all a great deal of pain if I had. Rodger. Did you lie to me?”

  Rodger immediately put his back up. “How dare you accuse me of that!”

  “When Caleb and I split, you were acting strange. I didn’t question it at the time. I thought you were angry on my behalf. And you tried to support me, which I appreciated. But looking back, it was very strange. Rodger, did you lie to me?”

  “I did exactly what I needed to do in order to protect you, and I shouldn’t be accused of anything,” he snapped at her. He sounded so affronted and hurt. Usually that tone immediately made my mother back off, apologize, and smooth things over.

  Not today. She requested in an eerily calm manner, “Jon. When he looks at me, what do you see?”

  I’d waited fifteen years for her to ask me that question. I was ecstatic for a split second. Then I winced, because if this went the way I thought it would…my mom was in for a lot of heartbreak. Oh hell. There was no way to win this one. “Possession, satisfaction, desire, need.”

  Rodger turned on me like a viper. “Love! You’re editing it out. Stop making me the bad guy.”

  Lauren looked at me pleadingly, imploringly, begging me to give her a reason to believe that, at least. That he did love her. I shook my head grimly. There was no gold in that man’s aura. There couldn’t be—he was too self-absorbed to be that selfless. And trying to ascribe that emotion to him felt like a betrayal to Donovan, to even try to put them on the same level.

  A hurt sob caught in her throat, and for the first time, Rodger looked truly worried. He demanded, “You don’t actually believe that? After forty years together? Lauren.”

  She didn’t meet his eyes, and I could see the anger steadily building in her. Still, she wasn’t done. “Why did he marry me?”

  Oh god. Did I want to answer this? As much as I wanted Rodger gone….

  Her hand found mine, the grip tight enough to leave bruises. “Jon. Tell me.”

  I sucked in a breath, let it out again. “Possession. Control.”

  Lauren rounded on Rodger so fast, I couldn’t track her speed as she slapped him hard across the face. She leapt from the couch in a surprising display of agility and snarled at him, “What the hell have you done, you bastard? What the hell have you done?! How could you manipulate and betray me so badly after all I’ve been to you?”

  “I’ve done nothing to you!” he roared back.

  “Then why am I hurt?” she snapped back, and there were no tears in her eyes. Her rage was past that, to that cold place where no emotion but the purest anger could reside. “Why am I betrayed? It’s not just what you’ve done to me, and that’s unforgiveable in its own right. You made me believe—for years—that Caleb didn’t want anything to do with us. That he abandoned us! You know, you’ve seen, how much that hurt my children! How much damage it did to Jon, especially. WHY?!”

  Rodger leapt to his feet as well, defensive and red in the face, from both anger and embarrassment. “How dare you yell at me! I was doing this for your own good!”

  “Lie,” I said with false calm. “Try again, Rodger.”

  He rounded on me, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You shut the hell up, you little prick. You’re always so smug, so superior, ever since your psychic sight came in. You don’t get to tell me what I’m feeling!”

  “Oh, but I can.” I stood as well, bringing the fight right into his space. I was done with this charade. “There’s no regret in you. You still think you did the right thing. You’re so self-righteous, so controlling, angry only that we’re questioning your intentions. I can read all of that quite clearly. But you know, Rodger, I can see through you even without my sight.”

  “So can I,” Mom snarled, and she was right in Rodger’s space too, shoving him hard against his chest. “Forty years we’ve known each other, and I know very well what you were thinking when you did it. You regretted our breakup. You didn’t want me marrying Caleb. So when he asked for a divorce, you probably thought that was your chance, didn’t you? You could hit a giant reset button and get him out of my life completely. You didn’t care what the cost was to me, or my children. You didn’t care about anything but yourself, because that’s all you’ve ever really cared about. You wanted Caleb gone, so you did what was necessary to make it happen.”

  “He fucking left you!”

  I flinched instinctively at his raised voice and felt more than heard Donovan move, ready to intervene in a split second. Aaron did the same, coming around the back of the couch, ready to pull Rodger back if he needed to.

  “No, he didn’t,” Mom responded. She sounded unnaturally calm. I took one look at her face and winced. When Mom got still and expressionless like that, it was never a good sign. Her rage was molten hot lava pouring through her. “He didn’t leave. You forced him to go. You know, Rodger, for years I’ve made excuses for you. As badly as you handled my children, I thought
at least you were trying to be there for them. I thought at least you had their interests at heart. But it turns out, you were always on your own agenda. You weren’t interested in what they were feeling, what they were going through, what damage you were inflicting on them. You just wanted to go through the motions, to keep me happy, so you could keep your control over me. Am I right, Jon?”

  A glance at his lines provided the answer. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

  Rodger became wild with anger, his fist cocking back, his intentions to smash my face clear in. Donovan moved, swift as a shadow, catching his wrist before he could even draw it properly back.

  “Rodger, if you hurt any person in this room, I will flatten you,” Donovan swore in a low voice. It sent a shiver up my spine because it sounded like Death itself.

  “We’re done, Rodger.”

  Rodger’s anger fell a notch, replaced by disbelief. “Lauren! You’re not going to leave me because of this!”

  “I’m leaving you because you’ve manipulated and lied to me for forty years,” she said, staring at Rodger like she didn’t even know him. In a sense, she didn’t. “I’m leaving because I can’t trust anything you say to me. I’m leaving because you’ve finally succeeded in breaking my faith in you completely. There’s nothing left at this point.”

  He stared back at her, his aura cracking in front of my eyes. I felt no pity for him. He’d brought this entirely upon himself. “Lauren. Lauren, I can explain—”

  “I don’t care if you can. Nothing you can say will make up for this. I’m going to stay here and catch up with Jon. You’ve got until I come home tonight to pack up and get out.”

  I felt like cheering. Finally!

  “But you need me,” Rodger denied instantly. “I’m still your anchor.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of that too,” Mom promised flatly. “You brought me back into a relationship with you by using your connection as my anchor. I’m not falling for that trick again.”