Not a Happy Family

by Shari Lapena

  “It’s okay,” Reyes says. “Do you know if the Mertons had any enemies? Anyone you can think of who might do this?”

  She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think they did.” She pauses and adds, “But you never really know, do you?” She looks at them. “I mean, I just come in to clean the house now. I don’t live here anymore.”

  “What about security?” Reyes asks. “Was there any?”

  “No. There are some security cameras set up around the house, but they’ve never worked, as far as I know. They’re just for show.”

  Barr asks, “Did they keep any valuables in the house?”

  Irena looks back at her, thinking that this young detective must be a bit of an idiot. “The house is full of valuables. The paintings are worth quite a lot, the silver, her jewelry, and so on.”

  “What about cash?” Reyes asks.

  “There’s a safe in Fred’s study, on the first floor at the back of the house. I’m not sure what they keep in it.”

  “We’d like you to go through the house with us and take a quick look to see if anything is missing. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I don’t want to go back into the kitchen,” she whispers.

  “I think we can skip the kitchen, for now,” Reyes says. “Is there anyone else who works on the property, a gardener, perhaps?”

  She shakes her head. “They use a service.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have contact info for the three children, would you?” Barr asks.

  Irena reaches for her phone. “Yes, of course.”

  9

  Reyes watches as Irena stares down at the body of Sheila Merton, her hand covering her mouth. Finally, she says, “She always wore two large diamonds—her engagement ring and another on her right hand.” She looks up at him. “They’re gone.”

  A quick tour of the house in the company of the cleaning lady reveals a fuller picture. The silver is missing from the dining room, but none of the paintings, even the most valuable ones, have been touched. Fred’s study has been ransacked, but the safe, hidden behind a painting of a landscape, appears to have escaped the intruder’s notice. Still, they will have to get it opened.

  Reyes and Barr climb the staircase to the second floor, stepping carefully to avoid the blood trail. A chandelier hangs down in the center, and as Reyes draws level with it, he notes the absence of dust. They enter the master bedroom—it’s at the front of the house, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lawn and gardens. It’s a large room, with a king-size bed and matching walnut dressers. The drawers have been pulled open roughly, clothes spilling out. A handbag has been dumped haphazardly onto the unmade bed, some smears of blood on its pale leather surface. Fred’s and Sheila’s wallets have been emptied of cash and credit cards and flung to the floor.

  The jewelry box on Sheila’s dresser is open and askew, as if someone had pawed hurriedly through it. The bloody smudges confirm it. Reyes stands beside Irena and together they look down into the empty velvet interior. “She had some diamond dinner rings, some pricey earrings and bracelets, some pearls—but she might have kept those in the safe downstairs,” she tells them. “The insurance company will have a record.”

  The detectives thank Irena once they are back outside. As they head to their car, Reyes thinks, We’ll catch them when they try to use the credit cards or fence the jewelry. Whoever it was took only things that were easy to carry, easy to convert to cash.

  But it was such a savage crime. Perhaps it wasn’t primarily a robbery at all.

  * * *

  • • •

  the detectives pull up outside Catherine Merton’s downtown medical practice. Reyes has sent a pair of uniforms to the homes of each of the other siblings to do the dreaded dead knock—to inform them of the murder of their parents before they hear it on the news. Neither Dan nor Jenna Merton have a workplace at the moment, according to Irena.

  It’s a busy clinic, with several different practitioners sharing space. The detectives find the front desk on the third floor, show identification, and ask for Dr. Catherine Merton. The receptionist’s eyes widen when she sees their badges. “I’ll get her for you,” she says, and leaves the desk.

  When she returns, she says, “If you don’t mind waiting in Room C just down this hall—she’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”

  Reyes and Barr make their way to the examination room. They don’t have to wait long.

  There’s a light knock on the door and then a woman in her early thirties, wearing a white coat, enters the room. Reyes studies her carefully. She’s pleasant looking, with regular features. Her black hair is shoulder length, parted at the side, and she wears pearls around her neck. Her eyes are full of inquiry.

  “I’m Dr. Merton,” the woman says. “My receptionist said you wanted to see me?”

  Reyes introduces them and says, “I’m afraid we have some terrible news.” She seems to falter. “Perhaps you should sit down,” he suggests, and Catherine sinks into a plastic chair, while he and Barr remain standing.

  She looks up at them and swallows. “What is it?”

  “I’m afraid it’s your parents. They’ve been found dead in their home.” He lets this sink in.

  She stares back at him in disbelief. “What?” she gasps.

  Reyes says as gently as he can, “They were murdered.”

  Her shock seems genuine. They wait as she processes the news. Finally, she asks, appalled, “What happened?”

  “It looks like a robbery gone wrong,” Reyes says. “Money was taken, credit cards, jewelry.”

  “I can’t believe it,” she says. She looks up at him and asks fearfully, “How did they die?”

  There’s no easy way to say it, and she will find out soon enough. “Your mother was strangled; your father was stabbed, and his throat was slit,” Reyes says quietly.

  “No . . .” Catherine Merton whispers, shaking her head mournfully, her hand pressed up against her mouth as if she might retch. When she’s able, she asks in a choked voice, “When—when did this happen?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Reyes says. “Ms. Dabrowski found them, around eleven o’clock this morning. She mentioned that there was a family dinner on Easter Sunday?”

  She nods. “Yes. We were all there on Sunday.”

  “And was everything fine then?”

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “Was there any sign of anything being wrong? Did your parents seem different, nervous, like anything was bothering them?”

  “No. Everything was the same as usual.”

  “What time did you leave their house?” Reyes asks.

  “About seven o’clock,” she says distractedly.

  “Did you have any contact with your parents anytime after that?”

  She shakes her head. “No.” She’s staring down at her hands in her lap now.

  “We think they were killed sometime later Sunday night, or early Monday morning,” Reyes tells her.

  “How much money do you think your parents were worth?” Barr asks bluntly.

  Catherine looks up at her, taken aback. “They were wealthy. I don’t know how wealthy, exactly.”

  “Ballpark?” Barr says.

  “I don’t know. You’d have to ask their lawyer,” she says. “Walter Temple, at Temple Black.” She rises from the chair. “I—I have to talk to my brother and sister.”

  Reyes nods. “They’re being informed now as well,” he says. “We’re so sorry for your loss.” He hands her his card. “We’ll be in touch shortly, of course, about the investigation. We’ll see ourselves out.”

  10

  Catherine watches them go, then closes the door of the examining room and collapses back into the chair. She can hardly catch her breath. She feels light-headed, queasy, unable to think. She has patients waiting, and Cindy at the front desk will wonder what
’s happened to her. She must pull herself together.

  This is so difficult. She wonders what the detectives thought of her. She’d lied to them. Could they tell?

  She must talk to Dan and Jenna. She’ll have Cindy reschedule her patients. They’ll understand once they find out why. No one would expect her to carry on with work after what’s happened. She hears a light tap at the door. “Yes?” she says.

  Cindy opens the door tentatively. “Are you okay?” she asks, clearly worried. “What’s happened?”

  Her voice leaden, Catherine says, “My parents have been murdered.” Cindy’s eyes widen in horror and disbelief. She’s speechless. Catherine says brusquely, “Can you please reschedule all my appointments? I’m going to need a few days off. I have to leave.”

  Catherine walks hurriedly past Cindy to her own office to hang up her white coat, put on her trench coat, and grab her handbag. She strides right past the patients in the waiting room without acknowledging them and out of her practice, into the elevator, and straight out to her car in the parking lot. Once she’s seated inside the car, she grabs her cell phone out of her purse. Her hands are shaking. She takes a deep breath and calls Ted.

  Fortunately, he’s not with a patient and he answers. “Yes?”

  She tries to stifle a sob, but it escapes.

  “Catherine—what’s wrong?” he asks quickly.

  “The police were just here, at my office.” She’s beginning to panic now. Her breathing is fast and ragged. “My parents are dead. They’ve been murdered. In their house.”

  There’s complete silence on the other end of the phone for a moment; Ted is obviously stunned. “That’s—that’s—oh, Catherine, how awful. What happened?”

  “They think it was a robbery,” she says. Her voice sounds strained to her own ears.

  “Stay there,” he says. “I’ll come get you.”

  “No, don’t do that. I have to—I’ll go to Dan and Lisa’s. They’ll know by now. Maybe you could meet me there? And I’ll call Jenna, tell her to join us.”

  “Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “This is—it’s unbelievable. I mean—you just saw them on Sunday night.”

  She hesitates and says, “About that.”

  “What?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just—don’t tell anyone that I went over there later that night, okay? I-I didn’t tell the police. I’ll explain.”

  * * *

  • • •

  jenna wakes blearily to the sound of her phone buzzing. She opens one eye, sees the empty space where Jake should be—it’s his bed, his apartment, his sexy scent on the sheets—and then reaches for her phone on the floor. Jesus, it’s late. Jake must have gone to work and let her sleep. It’s her sister, Catherine. She accepts the call. “What?” she says.

  “Jenna—have the police spoken to you yet?”

  “What? No. Why?”

  “Where are you?”

  She can hear the distress in her sister’s voice. “I’m at Jake’s, in the city. Why?”

  “Oh. I have some bad news.”

  Jenna sits up in the bed, brushing her hair back from her forehead. “What?”

  “Mom and Dad are dead. They’ve been murdered.”

  “Fuck,” Jenna says. “For real?” Her heart is suddenly racing.

  They talk briefly—Catherine telling her to meet them at Dan’s—then Jenna gets out of bed, throws on some clothes, and goes into the kitchen to leave a note for Jake. But he’s already left one for her.

  Hi Gorgeous,

  Stay as long as you want. Or come down to the studio when you wake up. XO

  She decides against a note. Better to tell him over the phone.

  * * *

  • • •

  through the kitchen window, Lisa sees Catherine’s car pull into their driveway. Dan has been hovering anxiously, waiting for her. Lisa turns around and glances at her husband. He’s been so agitated since they got the news, and now that Catherine has arrived he looks like he’s about to jump out of his own skin.

  She walks toward the front door, but Dan brushes past her, opens it, and meets Catherine outside on the driveway.

  Lisa hears Catherine say, “Let’s get inside.”

  Catherine looks pale and distressed. She’s obviously been crying, Lisa thinks. She hears the sound of another car and they all look to the street—Lisa recognizes Ted in his sports car, the top down on this pleasant April day. Catherine doesn’t wait for her husband, just walks straight into the house, and Dan follows. Lisa waits for Ted and wordlessly they go inside. Ted, too, seems shaken.

  The distress coming off Catherine is upsetting to Lisa, who absorbs other people’s stress like a sponge. She goes to Catherine—whom she thinks of as a sister—and gives her a warm hug, feeling her own eyes filling up in sympathy. They all make their way into the living room.

  “Jenna is on her way,” Catherine says. “I called her to join us, but she’s in the city. I had to tell her.” Catherine slumps into an armchair and drops her purse at her feet.

  Lisa glances at Dan as she sits down on the sofa—he’s pacing around the living room, his movements jumpy. Ted goes to stand beside Catherine and rests his hand protectively on her shoulder.

  Catherine says, bluntly, “They were probably murdered on Sunday night.” Catherine looks at Dan as she says it. There’s something in the way she’s looking at him that Lisa doesn’t like.

  “I can’t believe it!” Dan exclaims.

  Lisa watches him, disturbed at how high strung he is.

  “I know,” Catherine says. “I can’t believe it either. But two detectives just came to my office.” Her voice is a bit shrill. “They’re opening a murder investigation.”

  “Jesus—this is—surreal,” Dan says, stopping suddenly.

  Lisa gestures to him to come sit beside her and he does, dropping heavily onto the sofa.

  Catherine stares at them. “Did they tell you that Irena is the one who found them?”

  Dan nods nervously from the sofa. He grabs Lisa’s hand and clutches it.

  It’s finally hitting her. They’re both dead, Lisa thinks. She can’t believe it either. She can’t believe their good luck. This changes everything. She glances at her husband. Maybe things aren’t so bad after all. Maybe they’re rich.

  Dan asks, “What did the detectives say?”

  “They seem to think that it was a robbery that turned violent.” There’s a tinge of hysteria in Catherine’s voice. “Mom was strangled. Dad—Dad’s throat was slit, and he was stabbed.”

  “My God,” Dan says, standing up again suddenly and running a hand through his dark hair. “That’s horrible. They didn’t tell us that.”

  Lisa looks back at Catherine in horror. They hadn’t heard those details from the officers at the door, only that Fred and Sheila had been murdered, not how. Now she feels like she’s going to be sick.

  Dan hesitates, then turns to Catherine. “But—you know what this means,” he says.

  Lisa watches her husband, trying to keep down the bile with a hand pressed against her mouth.

  “What?” Catherine says, as if she isn’t following him.

  “We’re free. All of us, we’re free of him.”

  Catherine’s face falls; she looks appalled. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” she says repressively. “And I would keep thoughts like that to yourself.”

  Lisa watches uneasily, the sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. She wishes Dan had more of Catherine’s self-control. Lisa is pretty sure the same thought was one of the first things to cross Catherine’s mind when she heard the news, but she has more sense than to admit it.

  11

  As Lisa departs for the kitchen to make coffee, Dan says to Catherine and Ted, “Poor I
rena.”

  “It must have been awful, finding them,” Catherine agrees, staring into space. Then she looks up at Ted, and Dan sees his hand squeeze her shoulder reassuringly.

  “What happens now?” Dan asks.

  “I don’t know,” Catherine says.

  Her uncertainty makes him feel momentarily unglued. If Catherine doesn’t know what to do, how will they manage?

  But then Catherine seems to pull herself together. “We have to plan a funeral.”

  “Right,” Dan says. He hadn’t thought of that.

  “And the detectives will want to talk to all of us,” Catherine says.

  “Talk to us,” Dan repeats. “Why?” Why is she looking at him like that? “I didn’t do it,” Dan protests. They look at him in surprise. Why did he say that? He needs to get a grip. Catherine is watching him closely and Ted is regarding him uneasily.

  Suddenly exhausted, Dan collapses onto the sofa and leans his head back. He falls into a sort of pleasant reverie. His parents are dead. No more family dinners. No more asking for money and being told no. No more demeaning digs from his father in front of other people. And, once the funeral is over and things settle, there is the estate to be dealt with. He wonders who the executor is. Probably Catherine. Or maybe his father’s lawyer, Walter. One thing is certain, it won’t be him.

  All that lovely money coming their way. He can feel his chest expanding with happiness. Catherine can pretend all she wants, but he’s sure she’s as happy about this as he is. She can have the house now; she can take it as part of her share. He wants his in cash. Lisa will be relieved that they’re out from under his father’s crushing heel at last, out from under all this debilitating financial stress. They can be happy again. And Ted—Dan has no doubt that Ted is as delighted as the rest of them, despite the fake look of concern on his face. He couldn’t stand their father. And Ted appreciates the finer things; Dan has always been rather jealous of Ted’s sports car, a BMW Z3 convertible. But he always told himself that that’s what dentists do—they buy sports cars to compensate for how boring and unpleasant their job is. Now Ted can retire if he wants to. And Jenna—she won’t even pretend to be sorry they’re gone.