The Girl Who Saw Too Much (The Firth Twins' Series Book 1)

by Athena Floras

  “But isn’t he finishing at five? Mr. Wentworth might get another asthma attack before then.”

  “Yeah, he could,” Louise affirmed.

  Eric sat on the old man’s left side while Jessica remained seated on his right, continually patting the old man’s back. She could feel his breaths smoothing out and deepening. Her racing heart began to slow.

  “Why don’t you head to the pharmacy to pick up his medication now and we will stay with him and keep him company.”

  Louise checked her watch, biting her lower lip as if she were struggling with the decision.

  “Mr. Wentworth,” she said bending lower so she could look into his eyes. “I’m going to go to the pharmacy real quick. In the meantime Jessica and Eric will keep you company.”

  The old man grumbled in confusion. “Eric?” He observed Eric as if he had never seen him before.

  When he turned and saw Jessica, he nodded. “Beth, will you stay with me?”

  Looking awkwardly at him then at Louise, she smiled. “Yes, I will.”

  Louise gave her the thumbs up. “Don’t worry. His breathing will continue to improve and his cough will stop in a couple of minutes.”

  Louise snatched her purse that hung on the coat rack at the door and rushed out. The door creaked closed with her departure.

  The old man tapped her knew. In between heavy, short breaths, he murmured, “I’m so happy you’re going to stay with us, Beth. Saul will be so happy. The boy has a huge crush on you, you know.”

  While the old man spoke, Eric wiggled out of the seat trying to be unnoticeable and mouthed to Jessica, “I’ll go check out Saul’s’ room.”

  She nodded, moving the frail man’s roaming hand away. She waited until Eric was gone before she stood. The old man invaded her space. She liked it not one bit. Leering, wheezing old man weren’t her fetish.

  Her stomach rolled over in her disgust. She wished she could stay as far away from the man as possible, but she settled with standing far enough that he couldn’t grope her with his hands. His eyes were a different matter.

  His lucidity had obviously vanished. She doubted he’d be much help in her quest to uncover the truth in this ever-changing puzzle.

  Yet she couldn’t ignore this opportunity to ask him questions uninterrupted.

  “Mr. Wentworth, how long has your son lived with you?”

  “Mr. Wentworth?” He stared at her with disappointment. “Why are you being so formal, Beth? Call me Al, please.”

  She wanted to correct him that she was Jessica, but in the confused state he was in, it would only anger him.

  So she pretended, hoping the illusion they weaved would bring her closer to the truth.

  “Okay, Al. How long has Saul been living here with you?”

  “Most of his life.” He snarled, his eyes darkening. “Ever since his bitch of a mother dumped him on my porch when he was only two.”

  “Did he hate her for abandoning him?”

  “Of course. But you know that already, Beth. I told you this a long time ago.”

  His response disturbed her. Her mother and Al had been closer than just neighbors if he had confided in her about Saul.

  “Were you and I friends, Al?” she probed fearing what she’d uncover.

  He laughed as if her question was preposterous. “Yes, we sure were.” His leering expression returned as he gave her the once over with his x-ray eyes. “We were more than that once too.”

  Her stomach lurched, making vile acid rise to her throat. “You mean you and I had an affair?”

  “No, you didn’t want to leave that asshole Robert!” Anger rose to his face. His neck reddened. “He’s a scumbag, Beth. He doesn’t deserve you. Why don’t you come live here with Saul and me? You can bring your kids. Saul won’t mind. He likes kids.”

  The conversation headed to a dead-end. She had to redirect it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on.

  “Al, do you remember when Sam came here all bloody and wounded?”

  Al seemed baffled. She had changed the timeframe and he had to readjust his distorted brain.

  “Yeah, I remember. He died in my backyard. So much blood on the snow. Even after I shoveled it away, when it snowed the next day the area he fell turned pink.”

  His response disturbed her. It was as if he was angry at Sam for dying on his land.

  “Do you remember if Saul was at home when it happened?”

  He looked frustrated. “Saul? Yeah, it was his day off. He was downstairs reading or doing something or other when I went out.”

  So Saul did lie. He was here the night of the murders and not partying with his friends like he stated.

  “What time did you last see Saul that night?”

  He swayed his head. “I saw him around ten right before I went out.”

  Al’s reply didn’t make any sense. The coroner’s office had put the time of Sam’s death around midnight.

  “That’s when you saw Sam lying in the snow?”

  “No, that’s when I went to see you,” he claimed. He lay back on the couch spreading his arms out on each side of it. “Don’t you remember, Beth?”

  “N-No I don’t remember.” Her voice quivered. The cold look in his eyes and his laidback demeanor had her FBI instincts on high.

  “Why did you come to see me, Al?”

  He growled like a wild animal ready to pounce on his prey. The weak, confused old man who had been wheezing and coughing just ten minutes earlier had disappeared. A cool, collect and menacing man took his place,

  “I came to talk. I wanted you to open your eyes. But you didn’t listen to anything I had to say, like all the other times before that.”

  A deep, raspy laugh escaped his lips. “You were so stubborn. I thought if I brought an axe with me this time I could sway your pretty, stupid head and you’d come live with me and Saul.

  “But you refused. Even after I smashed it over your head.” His brows and lips arched into a menacing sneer. He slid his hand behind the cushion. He’d apparently uncovered Eric’s rushed hiding spot.

  He snatched the gun up and aimed his slightly trembling hand at her. He spoke roughly and audibly, “You still kept saying no, you bitch!”

  Chapter 25

  “Is that the old man shouting?” Eric said aloud when he peeked his head out of Saul’s closet to have a better listen.

  He’d been rummaging through it for any clues or evidence Saul had anything to do with their mother and brother’s murders.

  He’d come up with zilch, nada, nothing. Other than a few Playboy magazines, there was nothing in there except white and black polo shirts, blue and black jeans, and running shoes.

  His wardrobe was hardly diverse. Just like the rest of the house, Saul’s room had the bare necessities and nothing more. His wardrobe wasn’t fancy or colorful. It was cheap and practical but nothing more.

  Curious as to why the old man had shouted, Eric quickly arranged the clothes in the closet so they appeared undisturbed. He crept in stealth mode into the living room.

  Had the old man’s dementia returned with a vengeance? Or was he having a break down?

  Eric’s breath hitched when he witnessed the old man held the ancient Colt pointed at Jessica.

  What the hell was he doing?

  “Al, please put the gun down.” Jessica tapped her foot.

  Eric knew that was her signal that she’d distract him while he tried to disarm the old kook.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said back then.”

  Al grumbled. “Yes, you did, you bitch! I’m going to make you pay.” Eric tiptoed, inching closer. “The axe didn’t work, but now this gun will finally finish you—“

  The old man didn’t complete his sentence. Eric pounced on him trying to disarm him.

  The man screamed it surprise them thrashed around.

  For an old, frail man, he was actually quite strong and wiry to Eric’s surprise. He refused to let go of the gun. It was as if he’d used Crazy Glue to bond it to hi
s palms.

  The gun accidentally fired. The shrilling sound it made felt like it pierced Eric’s eardrums.

  Then a deafening holler followed.

  Chapter 26

  Deputy Chief Carlson stood there taking notes while he questioned Jessica and Eric.

  “So Al Wentworth confessed to having used the axe on your mother?” he posed the question to Jessica.

  “He thought I was her and promised he’d kill me again.”

  “That’s when I came in and jumped him,” Eric stated.

  Deputy Chief Carlson continued to write something in his notepad. “And that’s when the gun went off?”

  Eric affirmed. “Yeah. It exploded in his hands. I had taken a quick look at the gun earlier. It looked like it hadn’t even been cleaned. A bullet probably exploded in its chamber.”

  A deputy walked up to them and said, “Saul Wentworth just arrived. Shall I send him in, Deputy Chief?”

  “Yeah, do so.”

  The deputy meandered away, returning a minute later accompanied by a panic-stricken Saul. “Where’s my dad?” he blurted.

  “He’s at the hospital, Mr. Wentworth. Apparently, he found the old Colt you kept in the house and tried to use it. It exploded in his hands,” Deputy Chief Carlson said.

  In a high pitched tone and with bereaved eyes, he asked, “Is he going to be all right?”

  The deputy chief nodded. “Yeah, he is.”

  “I want to go see him.”

  “I’ll take you there in a minute, once I finish with them.” He pointed to Eric and Jessica.

  Saul must have been in a daze when he’d walked into the police chaos in his home, because it seemed he hadn’t noticed Eric and Jessica were present until Deputy Chief Carlson mentioned them.

  His eyes filmed over with rage. “You two! What the hell are you doing here? And where is Louise? She was supposed to be looking after my dad.”

  “Relax, Mr. Wentworth.” The deputy chief put his hand on Saul’s shoulder trying to calm him down. At six feet four he towered over Saul.

  “We came to talk to your dad about the night of the murders.”

  Saul snarled. “I told you not to come back!”

  Eric stepped in closer, crossing his arms over his chest. “If we didn’t, we would have never uncovered the truth. That your father killed our mother and brother!”

  The blood suddenly drained from Saul’s face. “He told you?”

  Jessica answered, “Yeah, he did. But you don’t look surprized. You knew, didn’t you?”

  In apparent shame, he bowed. He mumbled, “I wasn’t sure. One time a few months back he said something that made it sound like he killed them.”

  “And you didn’t report this to us?” Deputy Chief Carlson said sternly.

  Still not having the courage to look any of them in the eyes, Saul replied, “I wasn’t sure it really happened. Maybe it was the dementia warping his recollection of events.”

  He sighed. “He’s a weak old man who doesn’t have much longer to live. If he did do it, then they’d lock him up. His sparse days left on this Earth would be spent suffering.

  “No matter what he did, I couldn’t do that to him. He’s my father and I love him,” Saul said, his eyes misting.

  “So you let a monster roam free while an innocent man paid penance for something he didn’t do,” Eric replied.

  Saul’s defensive eyes darted at Eric. “Free? He’s not free. He’s locked away somewhere in that damaged brain. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

  Eric pushed up the sleeves of his cotton shirt. It seemed to Jessica he wanted to punch Saul in the face. “You’re wrong. He’s still dangerous. He tried to kill my sister today. He thought she was my mom.”

  Regret and guilt reflected in his eyes when he looked at Jessica. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he would do something like that.”

  Jessica looked intensely at him wondering when the deputy chief signalled the twins. “Okay, that’s it for the questions now. But I’d like you two to pass by the station tomorrow morning and we’ll take your official written statement.”

  He gazed at Saul and added, “I’ll take you to see your father now.”

  Before they moved away, Jessica asked, “Where were you today between eleven and twelve o’clock, Mr. Wentworth?”

  He frowned. “I was at the factory working. Why?”

  She shrugged. “I just wanted to know.”

  “You can call my foreman at Arcane Smits if you don’t believe me,” Saul replied defensively.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “No, that’s all right.”

  As Deputy Chief Carlson guided Saul out of the house, Jessica observed their departure.

  If the mystery man in the woods wasn’t Saul Wentworth, then who was it?

  Chapter 27

  A whirl of emotions consumed Eric while he and Jessica sat in the waiting room.

  It was déjà vu all over again. Jonathan Archer had gone in to see their father ten minutes ago.

  “What do you think he’ll say?” Eric asked his sister.

  “I don’t really know. I guess he feels relieved.” She shook her head.

  Eric sighed. “Yeah he’s been screaming his innocence for twenty-three years. No one believed him except Jonathan.”

  Jessica bowed her head in shame. “And it was my testimony that put him away.”

  Eric tsked. “Don’t tell me you’re still blaming yourself for that? You were a little kid who had just gone through a traumatic experience. Sheriff Atkins and Deputy O’Malley played with your head so you’d say what they wanted you to say.

  “They wanted someone behind bars for the murders and Dad was the easiest scapegoat they could tag.”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. Her sad eyes remained the same when echoing footsteps coming from the hallway were heard.

  They both turned to look in that direction. Jonathan approached them, smiling. “He’s ready to see you now.”

  They followed him into the room. He wasn’t in the same one he’d been in the last time they’d visited. He was in one with two beds.

  Thankfully, the second bed was empty. They’d have privacy during this gathering.

  The yellow tinge in his complexion when they’d seen him before had been replaced with a healthy tone of pink.

  There were no tubes in his arms and he sat up in bed, rather than lying flat.

  He had a beaming grin when he spoke. “Hi.”

  “Hi Dad. How are you feeling?” Eric asked. He was about to shake his hand, but stopped himself.

  This man in this bed may be his father, but he was a complete stranger to him.

  “Hi,” Jessica answered giving him a hug. She obviously didn’t feel uncomfortable showing any signs of affection with him.”

  Their father took a deep breath. “I’m feeling better. I finished this session of chemo.”

  He stared at them, alternating from one to the other. “So Jonathan tells me you found the killer. It was our old neighbor.”

  Jonathan interjected, “I also told him that even though Al Wentworth confessed we still have a long way to go to clear your father’s name.”

  “The defense will use Mr. Wentworth’s advanced dementia to clear him of the charges, stating he is confused and made himself believe he killed his neighbor and his son.

  “Without any tangible evidence, he could be set free.”

  Eric’s dad shrugged. “I don’t care about that. All I wanted was for you two to see I was innocent.”

  He diverted his attention away when he spoke next. “I know I was a horrible dad. I was a drunk and a bastard and I don’t deserve a second change with you. But if you would like to come see me and talk every once and a while, I’d like that.”

  He smiled. “I know you’re fantastic FBI agents. You cracked a case no one was able to crack in twenty-three years, but I want to know more about my fabulous kids who grew up to be amazing adults.”

  He paused to breathe then continued, “I don’t
know how much time I have left, but I want to spend it making it up to you.”

  This was a hell of a lot to take in. What their father was asking meant Eric would need to break down a wall of defense he’d taken years to build. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to do it.

  He looked at Jessica waiting to see how she’d react and what she’d say.

  Her blank expression told him nothing. For the first time in his life his powerful psychic connection with his twin left him dumbfounded.

  Chapter 28

  Jessica was hurrying as fast as she could.

  Dinner was at six and they were still as the motel at 5:55.

  “Will you hurry up!” Eric hollered through the bathroom door.

  “I’m coming! I’m coming.” She stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror while she slipped on her black high heel pumps. She wore a simple, strapless black dress that fell to just above her knees. She’d bought it earlier today after her visit with their father ended.

  She had a lot to think about and shopping helped her clear her mind.

  She opened the door and waved her hands. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Eric whistled humorously. “Nice dress. You dressing to impress?”

  She hesitated. “Is it too much? Should I go change?”

  He grabbed her arm before she could move away. “I take that back. It’s a dull dress and Vincent won’t notice.”

  She stomped her foot. “Eric, stop making fun of me.”

  He laughed. “Okay. I’ll stop making fun if we leave now.”

  “Fine, let’s leave.” She snatched her black purse she’d bought that matched the dress.

  During their ride to Vincent’s home Eric kept glancing at her while he drove.

  “What is it?” she asked the third time he did it.

  He sighed being silent for a moment. “So what do you think of Dad’s speech today?”

  “I don’t think it was a speech, Eric. I think he was being genuinely sincere.”