Not a Happy Family

by Shari Lapena

  * * *

  • • •

  jenna drives home from Walter’s office, thinking about the wills. She should be happy—she is happy. She’s going to be rich. But an unknown half sibling being treated equally with them—that rankles. She doesn’t really know Rose Cutter, although she met her at her sister’s wedding years ago.

  She’s a bit uneasy about Jake. Jake has lied for her. Their fling—or whatever this is—is fun for now, but what if they get tired of each other? What if one of them wants to break it off? Could she trust him then?

  It would be nice if they arrested someone, and she almost doesn’t care who, as long as it isn’t her.

  44

  Barr pops her head in Reyes’s office door, slightly breathless.

  “What is it?” Reyes asks.

  “I just got a call from the hospital. Audrey Stancik was admitted yesterday, and they think she was poisoned.”

  Reyes and Barr get to the hospital as fast as they can. They finally track down Audrey Stancik’s doctor, Dr. Wang. “She was poisoned?” Reyes asks. “Are you sure?”

  The doctor nods briskly and says, “No doubt about it. Ethylene glycol. If she hadn’t called us as quickly as she did, she might well be in a coma by now. We’ve treated her with fomepizole—it reverses the effects of the poison and prevents organ damage.” He turns as if to be on his way. “She’s going to be fine. She’ll be released later today.”

  “Wait,” Reyes says. The doctor stops for a moment. “Where would ethylene glycol come from?” Reyes asks.

  “Antifreeze, probably. That’s your department, not mine. You can see her. She’s eager to talk to you. Room 712.”

  They locate Audrey’s room, and Reyes knocks gently on the partly opened door and they enter. It’s a semiprivate room; there’s another woman in the bed across from her. Reyes pulls the curtain around Audrey’s bed for privacy, and he and Barr stand by her bedside. “How are you feeling?” he begins.

  She frowns weakly at them both. “I’ve felt better,” she admits, “but they tell me I’m going to be fine. No lasting damage.”

  “What happened?” Reyes asks.

  “It was the iced tea,” Audrey says firmly, “I’m sure of it. I keep a plastic jug of iced tea in my refrigerator. When I got home from a walk on Sunday morning, I had a glass of it. It was after that I started to feel sick.”

  Reyes glances at Barr.

  “Someone tried to kill me,” Audrey insists. “Someone broke into my house and tried to poison me.” She adds, “It has to be one of those kids.”

  “Why would any of them want to kill you?” Reyes asks.

  “Because I know one of them is a murderer. And whoever it is probably knows that I’m talking to you—and to the press. I was the anonymous source in the newspaper yesterday.”

  * * *

  • • •

  once inside the house, Catherine tells Ted she’s going upstairs to lie down. She has a pounding headache, tight across her sinuses, probably from the stress of everything—the police interview this morning, the will, the news about Rose this afternoon.

  Catherine needs to think about Rose, what to do about her. She doesn’t feel like she’s gained a sister, but that she’s lost a friend.

  Catherine gets underneath the covers and pulls them up to her chin. She tries to empty her mind so that she can sleep and get rid of her headache. Summoning happy thoughts, she thinks about the money she will get, and about the baby she’s going to have, and how she will tell Ted. She’s hoping for a girl. She imagines decorating the nursery in her parents’ house—it and everything in it will be hers now. Dan and Jenna don’t care. They will have the house and contents valued and that will come out of her share of the inheritance. When she said that’s what she wanted, in the parking lot after the meeting with Walter, Dan and Jenna were not surprised, but Ted had been. When she mentioned that it was her intention to move into the house, he had been taken aback. She wasn’t immediately sure why—he knew she’d always wanted that house.

  “But—” Ted protested.

  “But what?” Catherine replied.

  Ted swallowed and said, “Your parents were murdered in that house—do you still want to live in it?”

  She didn’t want him to think her cold. “It’s where I grew up,” she said stubbornly, plaintively, letting her eyes fill up. She wanted to say, I can live with it, can you? But she wasn’t sure she was going to like his answer. This is something else she will have to deal with, her husband’s squeamishness.

  And the earrings—her mind races on. Why don’t the detectives believe she borrowed those earrings? And now there is no way she will fall asleep because she’s thinking about Audrey. Had she already spoken to the detectives? She remembers catching sight of Audrey in her car in the parking lot of the police station, watching as she came out, how she threatened Catherine and her siblings when she found out she wasn’t going to be rich.

  Audrey knows her history. When Catherine was young, she wasn’t always the perfect daughter. When she was twelve, she stole a necklace. She was over at a friend’s house, and the girl’s parents weren’t home. Catherine went upstairs to the bathroom, and, curious, slipped into the parents’ bedroom. She didn’t want to snoop in general, she only wanted to look in Mrs. Gibson’s jewelry box. She had lots of lovely things. There was a sweet little necklace at the bottom that Catherine picked up and held up to the light. A delicate gold chain with a single small diamond. Catherine slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. She thought Mrs. Gibson wouldn’t notice it missing right away, and she wouldn’t be able to connect its disappearance to Catherine’s visit.

  But it was her own mother who found out about the necklace, after Irena discovered it hidden under Catherine’s mattress when she was changing the bed. Irena told her mother, who confronted her about it and forced the truth out of her. Then she marched her over to the Gibsons’ and made her return the necklace and apologize, her face flushed with shame. She was full of resentment at her mother, because Catherine was right—Mrs. Gibson hadn’t noticed the necklace was missing at all. It had ended her friendship with the Gibsons’ daughter. Catherine’s mother was mortified. She told Catherine’s father when he got home and he berated her and made her feel so ashamed and angry that she wanted to run away from home.

  Of course her father told Audrey. He told her everything, as if he liked to display his children’s failings. And there was the time after that, when she’d tried to shoplift a diamond bracelet from a jewelry shop when she was sixteen. Police had been called, but her father got her out of it. She really had a hard time staying away from sparkly things.

  * * *

  • • •

  reyes and barr are met at Audrey’s house by technicians from the forensic team. A study of her home shows no evidence of a recent break-in. But a large window has been left open at the back of the house, and someone could have entered that way. Audrey will be coming home from the hospital later that day. Reyes carefully closes and locks all the windows.

  They take away the jug of iced tea for analysis, and the glass left on the coffee table. Reyes wrinkles his nose at the vomit streaking the sofa and pooled on the living-room floor.

  Barr comes up beside him. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asks.

  “You think she might have poisoned herself?”

  Barr shrugs. “She strikes me as the histrionic type. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “No sign of a break-in,” Reyes says, “but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

  Barr nods. “The window was open.”

  “And she called 911 just in time,” Reyes says. The technicians begin dusting for the possible intruder’s fingerprints, but Reyes already suspects that they won’t find any. The detectives have to get back to the station to deal with Rose Cutter, so they leave the technicians to it.

  45
<
br />   Rose Cutter can feel her heart beating in her chest.

  She sits at her desk in her law office on Water Street. She’s a sole practitioner, dealing mostly in real estate. She pulls down the blinds on her storefront office and turns the sign on the door around to read closed. She’s sent her assistant home early. It’s shortly before five. She just wants to go home.

  She was too ambitious, and it’s gotten her into trouble. She’s always wanted more than she had, and she’s always been jealous, even resentful, of her better-off friends and acquaintances who have family money. Starting your own practice is difficult—and expensive. Office space, equipment, insurance, law fees, an assistant’s salary—it’s been harder than she expected to make a living. She’s still renting a place to live, and she has student loans to pay.

  Rose thinks about the Mertons. She knows how rich they are. After all, Catherine has given her a taste of what her life is like. And Catherine always insists on paying—whether it’s for a day’s sailing, with champagne and lobster, or for an expensive dinner—and Rose lets her, because they both know she can easily afford it and Rose can’t.

  Back before Fred Merton sold his company and cut Dan loose, Rose knew Dan had to be sitting on a pile of money. She saw an opportunity. She was able to persuade Catherine to get Dan to talk to her about an investment opportunity he might be interested in.

  She persuaded him to take his money out of where he had it and invest as a private lender to the owners of 22 Brecken Hill Drive, with the property as security. It offered a significantly higher rate of return than what he was getting elsewhere, for a twelve-month term, and it was risk-free. But then he lost his job and wanted to get the money back early. She couldn’t help him; she told him he’d have to wait. There was nothing she could do.

  In fact, there is no mortgage on that property. She forged the documents to get Dan’s half million to invest in what was supposed to be a sure thing. She had a hot tip on a stock. She thought she’d make a killing on it and get some fast money. She was greedy, but she fully intended to return his money when it came due, with no one the wiser. But it hasn’t turned out that way. The sure thing failed. Dan doesn’t know what she’s done. But if she can’t come up with the money in the next few months, he will find out.

  When she got the call a few minutes ago from a Detective Barr, Rose had swiveled her chair to turn her back to her assistant and closed her eyes. The detective asked her to come down to the police station. She hung up the phone, sent Kelly home, and sat perfectly still, wondering how much the police knew, what they might accuse her of.

  Now, as she arrives at the station, she walks in with her head high and her back straight. She puts on her confident lawyer persona and greets the two detectives with a smile.

  “What can I do for you?” she asks, sitting down in the interview room.

  “As you probably know, we’re investigating the murders of Fred and Sheila Merton,” Detective Reyes says. “I understand you know Catherine Merton quite well.”

  “That’s right. Catherine and I have been friends for years. We were at school together.”

  “We understand that you were handling an investment for her brother, Dan.”

  She must keep her composure. Everything depends on how she handles this. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Can you tell us about that?”

  “I was looking for a private lender for a client, and Catherine mentioned to me that her brother might have some money to invest. Dan and I met, and he went ahead with the investment, taking a first mortgage on the property.”

  Reyes is nodding along. Then he says, “I’m afraid I must caution you,” and proceeds to do so.

  She feels her face go hot as a wave of panic rolls over her. The detectives are watching her closely. She feels as if she can’t breathe.

  “Would you like some water?” Reyes asks.

  She nods without answering, and Detective Barr pours her some water. She’s grateful for the interruption; she needs to think. But she can’t think. Barr hands her the water and she drinks greedily, her hand trembling.

  * * *

  • • •

  audrey, just home from the hospital, doesn’t manage to reach the phone in the kitchen before it goes to message. She freezes at the doorway to the kitchen, her heart pounding when she recognizes Catherine’s voice on the speaker. She doesn’t pick up; she doesn’t want to talk to her. The message is short. Catherine says that Fred left her and Irena each a million dollars in his will. Then she hangs up abruptly, leaving Audrey staring at the phone. She doesn’t know how to feel.

  Of course she’s glad to have one million; she’d almost resigned herself to getting nothing. But Audrey had expected so much more. She has no grounds on which to challenge Fred’s will. But she’s not going to give up the fight for justice for her brother. And now she’s convinced that one of them just tried to kill her too. She’s not just curious anymore. She’s in danger.

  Would Catherine call if she’d poisoned Audrey and thought she might be lying dead on the floor? Yes, she would. She would cover her tracks, leave a message fulfilling her executor duties. If she was the killer, and her poisoner, imagine her surprise if Audrey had answered the phone. Now she wishes she had.

  This is all because she spoke to that reporter, Robin Fontaine.

  Audrey feels a sudden need to talk to someone she can trust. She picks up the phone and calls Ellen.

  * * *

  • • •

  reyes studies rose cutter, sweating in the chair across from him and Barr. She puts the water down on the table.

  “I want an attorney.”

  “Fine,” Reyes says and leaves the room for her to call her lawyer. A short time later her attorney arrives and is closeted with her client. Then the lawyer opens the door and tells the detectives that they are ready. They resume their places and record the interview on tape.

  Reyes says, “What you told us is all bullshit, isn’t it? There is no mortgage on Twenty-Two Brecken Hill Drive. We’ve already spoken to the owner.”

  She says nothing, as if she’s frozen in fear.

  Reyes asks, “What did you do with Dan Merton’s money?”

  “No comment,” Rose says finally, her voice strained.

  “We know that the mortgage you prepared was fraudulent and was never registered.”

  “No comment.”

  “All right,” Reyes says, changing direction. “Where were you the night of April twenty-first?”

  “I’m sorry?” Rose says, as if she doesn’t understand the question.

  “You heard me. Where were you on the night of Easter Sunday?”

  “What’s this about?” Rose’s attorney asks sharply.

  “Fred and Sheila Merton were murdered that night. And Ms. Cutter here is a significant beneficiary under Fred Merton’s will.” He watches Rose suck in a breath; she looks as if she might faint.

  “What are you talking about?” Rose asks, her voice shrill.

  “You’re Fred Merton’s illegitimate daughter. Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

  She turns to her attorney, her mouth dropping open. Then she turns back to the detectives. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Reyes says, “You are going to inherit a fortune.”

  The attorney is clearly taken aback at what she’s walked into.

  “You’re making this up,” Rose says. “You must be.”

  Reyes studies her closely. “I assure you I’m not. So—where were you on the night of April twenty-first?”

  Rose stutters, “I-I had Easter dinner at my mom’s, with my aunt Barbara. Then I went home.”

  “And you were alone all night?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can’t be serious about these insinuations,” the attorney pipes up, finding her voice at last.

  “Well,
we already know she’s motivated by money,” Reyes says. Rose shoots him an angry, nervous look. “She defrauded Dan Merton out of half a million dollars. Who’s to say she’d stop short at murder?” He turns back to Rose and says, “You can go, for now. But you’ll be hearing from us about the fraud charge.”

  As she stands up, he says, “You’d better go see Walter Temple in the morning. He’ll be expecting you.”

  46

  Dan can’t sleep. He tosses and turns until well past midnight. Lisa, beside him, has finally fallen into a deep slumber, exhausted from the emotional strain of the last few days.

  He gets quietly out of bed and pulls on socks and underwear, jeans and a sweater. He needs to drive somewhere. Anywhere. It’s a compulsion he has sometimes.

  He lets himself out of the house and gets into Lisa’s car. He resents that he no longer has his own car. He’ll buy another one, he decides, when this is all over, something sporty and powerful and impressive. He turns off his cell phone and drives into the dark spring night.

  Dan remembers how, when he was seventeen, he developed a crush on a girl at school, Tina Metheney. He was obsessed with her. He followed her around at school, stared at her in class, brushed up against her in the hall. He was just a kid, painfully awkward, and he didn’t know how to deal with his overwhelming feelings of sexual desire. He thought he was in love. She didn’t like it. She told him to leave her alone, to stop looking at her like that. It was more than mere rejection. She left him feeling like he revolted her, that he frightened her.

  His father had given him his first car not long before that, and Dan loved to take it out. He would go on long drives in those days to escape from the pressure cooker of the house. It was the closest he could get to freedom. Dan drove past Tina’s place many times, and one day soon after she’d told him to leave her alone, he parked outside her house waiting for her to come home. He wanted to talk to her, to make her understand. But when she saw him there, waiting for her, she wouldn’t speak to him. She went inside the house and told her father, and that night her father had come to the Mertons’ house and complained to Dan’s father. Fred was embarrassed and angry. He hauled Dan into his study and gave him an excruciating dressing-down in front of the other man. Tina’s father said he wouldn’t press charges if he left his daughter alone. Dan sat in a chair staring at the carpet, frightened, bereft, and utterly ashamed. Press charges? For what?