“I guess so,” Mason said, rubbing the back of his neck. I recognized his nervous habit; he did it when he was looking for something to do with his hands. “It would make sense, because then my mom would accept Sophie.” He stopped his sentence in such a way that I knew there was a but coming, he just didn’t want to bring it up.
“But?” I asked, pushing the topic.
Mason sighed, unwilling at first to pose the questions out loud. “But I wonder if she ever knew the truth. Did she figure out Sophie wasn’t from someone in our family, but actually from an affair? Did she figure it out and never say anything, or did she at least confront my father? There’s no way she just couldn’t know. Moms just have a way of knowing about children. She had to have noticed that Sophie didn’t look like anyone in my family, especially when she stared at you during dinner. She had to have figured it out at some point.”
“She doesn’t know,” a new voice stated from behind us. “And as far as I know, she never confronted Charles.”
I turned to see my mom standing in the doorway, a pained expression etched into her features. Suddenly I felt guilty for talking about this at my house, but neither of us knew she was listening, or even here. I couldn’t stop Mason from speaking what was on his mind if I didn’t know she was eavesdropping. Though I knew she didn’t like what she overheard. At the same time I knew I wasn’t going to get in trouble for knowing her secret, but I would be for having Mason in my room. Even with the project charade there was no way I was getting out of this without getting punished. I’d rather take her being disappointed in me because I figured out the dirty secret she was hiding from us all.
Mom leaned her back against the doorframe and sighed deeply. “Since you figured it out, I might as well tell you what happened. I’m sure you’ll just find out about it somehow anyway.” She focused her blue eyes on mine. It was obvious that she was telling us this for my benefit because she wanted to set the record straight.
She wanted to clear her name, and not have me think she was a bad person for cheating on my dad. I didn’t know what to think. How could I move past her infidelity? What did it mean for our family now?
My mom interrupted those thoughts before they could delve much further. “I wish I could have been able to raise Sophie, to know her, and be there for her, but she was living evidence of my infidelity. I couldn’t bring her home and run the risk of ruining my marriage and the family we had built. Even if I had come up with some story, I couldn’t force your father to raise a child that wasn’t his. I had to do what was best for everyone.” She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and shook her head softly. For the first time I took notice of the features that she and Sophie shared. “So I left to serve out my pregnancy and give birth to Sophie, then I gave her to your father.” She glanced at Mason for a moment and then looked back at me.
“How did he know my mom would accept Sophie?” Mason questioned, suddenly standing up to talk to her. This might be his only time to ask questions, because I had a feeling he would never be able to work up the courage to question his father.
My mom offered him a soft smile. “One of your cousins had gotten pregnant and miscarried before. He told your mom that she had gotten pregnant again, but still knew she wasn’t ready to be a mom. So he claimed to have taken the child in to give Sophie a wonderful home, with someone who could love her and be with her. As for your mother knowing, she doesn’t. Together Charles and I decided that it was best not to open old wounds, so we didn’t tell Joseph and Amy about what happened.”
Mason squinted his eyes, angry and annoyed, but said nothing. My mom didn’t even take notice of his slight glare, because her eyes soon were fixed on me again, silently pleading for forgiveness.
She clasped her hands in front of her in a begging motion and asked, “Please, kids, don’t tell them about any of this. It will only make things worse, and it will hurt everyone involved more than help. We’ve already lost Sophie. Charles and I don’t want to lose anyone else. So please, let’s just keep the past in the past.”
I glanced at Mason, not knowing what to say and unwilling to speak for the both of us. Personally I didn’t feel right keeping the secret, but Mason was in charge in this case. This was more than just my family, it was his family too. More importantly, it was his sister—well, our sister—but he grew up with her. It was up to him to decide whether or not to keep the secret. I had a feeling Mason would say no, and then storm out.
Mason surprised me, though. He nodded his head slowly in hesitant agreement, not looking into my eyes as he did so. “Uh, yeah, I guess it wouldn’t make sense to bring it up now. It’s about fifteen years too late to do any good. It would only cause more problems.”
I sighed, not wanting to keep this lie from my father, but I didn’t want to ruin the relationship that my parents had rebuilt either, so I nodded along too. “I won’t tell, but only if you and Mr. Peters eventually come clean about what happened. It doesn’t have to be today, tomorrow, or even next month. You just have to tell them at some point. I can’t have something this big on my conscience for the rest of my life. What if I blurt it out by accident when I’m nervous?”
My mom looked worried, but she nodded her head nonetheless. “I will talk to Charles and see what he thinks about that, but no promises. We’ve been keeping this secret for years, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon, no matter what you two are up to,” my mom said as she turned around to leave. “Because I’m sure it’s not just a school project.” With that she left, and let her secret rest on our shoulders.
I hoped I was strong enough to carry it, otherwise I would be crushed under its weight.
Chapter 22
Marked
My knuckles rapped against the door for the second time as I stood in front of Mason’s house. I hadn’t been waiting long, only about five minutes or so, but normally when he knew I was coming over he would answer the door just seconds after I knocked. It seemed like he was always waiting impatiently for me to arrive, other than the one day he was playing soccer. I sighed, pulling my phone from my pocket to give him a call in case he hadn’t heard the door, or was taking a nap or something. As soon as I had unlocked my phone, the door in front of me was pulled open to reveal Mr. Peters.
“Hello, Casey. Come on in,” he said, waving me inside with a smile on his face. His blond hair was wet and sticking up in all directions. He was dressed in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt that was spotted with water droplets. He had probably just gotten out of the shower, but that didn’t explain where Mason was and why he hadn’t answered the door.
I forced a smile back at him, suddenly nervous around him after knowing about his relationship with my mom. I didn’t want to let him know that I knew, or accidentally blurt it out before my mom had the chance to talk to him. Now I’d really have to watch myself around Mason’s family when I got nervous, because when I got nervous I talked and wouldn’t stop. I slipped by him and into the foyer. “Hi, Mr. Peters,” I said, glancing away from him. “Is Mason around?”
Mr. Peters pushed the door shut, not noticing my odd behavior, as he nodded. “Yeah, I think he’s up in his room. You can go on up.”
“Thanks,” I replied, turning instantly and heading up the steps. I didn’t want to converse with him any longer than was necessary. I knew that it took two to tango, but it was hard not to judge him for going behind his wife’s back and sleeping with my mom. My poor dad—he still had no idea, and my mom had made it clear that she didn’t want him to know. While I didn’t like my mother keeping it a secret, or committing the act in the first place, it was much easier to hate Mr. Peters than it was to hate my mother. I hadn’t grown up with him as my parent, and no matter what my mom did I’d always forgive her because I loved her.
As I reached the top of the steps, Mr. Peters called to me. “Casey?” I looked back to see his smirking face. I tilted my head in slight confusion. What would he have to smirk about? As soon as my gaze met his, he said, �
��Make sure you two leave the door open.”
I smiled and nodded before I headed toward Mason’s room. It was obvious that my mom hadn’t spoken to him yet. He also could probably tell that there was more going on between Mason and me than a project if he was telling me to keep the door open. Hopefully he thought we were dating like everyone else seemed to. Maybe that was it, and he had heard the rumors of our relationship going through town, and thought we were going to give in to our hormonal impulses. While I would like to, solving a murder was more important than having a love life.
When I reached Mason’s door, it was pushed shut. I knocked lightly, waiting for him to say come in. When he did, I pushed the door open to see him sprawled out across his floor with pictures and scrapbooks spread out around him. I recognized Sophie’s baby book.
“Hey,” Mason said, looking up and giving me a heartwarming smile as I entered.
“Hey,” I said back. “Feeling nostalgic?” I walked over and placed my bag down on his bed.
He sat up and nodded at me. “I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately.”
“That makes sense.” I kneeled down in an empty spot next to him and scanned over the pictures. My gaze landed on a picture of Sophie from when she was about four or five years old. She had her hair in high pigtails on either side of her head, and was smiling so hard at the camera that her eyes were shut tight. She was missing one tooth, and that tooth was held high, pinched between her tiny fingers. “She was so cute,” I mused.
Mason laughed. “Oh yeah she was, and she knew it too. She always got her way with our parents, and I could never stay mad at her for long.” He followed my gaze and picked up the picture I had been looking at. “She was sweet too. When she got her tooth fairy money she tried to give me half because she felt bad that I hadn’t lost a tooth too.”
“Aw,” I cooed, smiling back at him. I felt disappointed that I hadn’t gotten to know her, and a little jealous that he had memories with her and I didn’t. I would never get to know my half-sister. “Can I look through these sometime? I’d like to know what I can about who she was.”
Mason placed a hand on my knee and squeezed it gently. He stared directly in my eyes as he said, “Of course. I’m here too.” He paused, and that let my thoughts run wild. I knew he was here for me, he’d saved my life three times since he came to town. I also knew there was something between us, we just weren’t going to mention it unless we absolutely had to. “You know, to tell you anything you want to know about her.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, holding his gaze. If it were up to me I wouldn’t look away until someone physically turned my head.
It was easy to talk to him and get lost in his eyes. Especially when he told stories about Sophie and his childhood, and all the misguided adventures they had together. They were close, best friends even, while growing up. It was clear that he adored her, and protected her when needed. Frankly, he seemed like the perfect older brother. Too bad the perfect relationship was shattered with her death. At times he seemed to be a different person, as if the person I knew was just a shell of his former self. It pulled at my heartstrings to think about it like that. I wished it had been different, all of it. Even if I never met him because of it.
We talked about certain photos, but our trip down memory lane was interrupted by the doorbell chiming through the house, Mason glanced toward his doorway. “I should probably get that,” he said, standing up.
I quickly followed him out into the hallway and to the staircase just in time to see his dad pulling the door open to reveal two police officers. Mason and I glanced at each other as the officers asked to come in. Mason’s dad agreed, allowing two familiar men in. They had serious expressions and as they caught sight of Mason on the stairs they flashed him a sympathetic look.
“We came to discuss the case. We would like to talk to you and any family who may be present,” Officer Jenkins stated, looking away from Mason to the floor. Whatever news they brought, it wasn’t good news.
Mason’s father nodded. “Sure, let’s go to the kitchen and we can talk.”
I joined Mason on the landing between the staircases, and cast him a quizzical look. He shrugged as the officers followed after Mason’s dad without looking in our direction again. Mason took my hand and pulled me down the stairs with him and into the kitchen. The officers were sitting with Mr. Peters, and when we entered they flashed him a questioning gaze. When he didn’t react, they turned to me.
“Should you be here for this, Casey?” Officer Fairview, a family friend since John and I were babies, questioned. He didn’t mean to come across as rude, but he had kids of his own. He would want to discuss his children’s cases privately, not with someone outside of the family. It was hard enough to have a child die prematurely, according to my mother, but I guess having to hear about it would make the pain worse.
“She’s fine,” Mason said as he tightened his hold on my hand. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or looking for support for whatever the police came to say. Either way, he was starting to hurt my hand. I think I even heard a couple of fingers crack under the pressure.
Officer Fairview nodded before turning to Mr. Peters. He took a deep breath as if to brace himself for what he was about to say; it definitely wasn’t good news. “I’m sorry to say, Charles, we have to close Sophie’s case now that it’s been ruled a suicide instead of a homicide. I’m sure you saw this coming.” He glanced in my direction for a split second before continuing. “As you know, it’s been ruled a suicide due to the drugs found in her system, her depression, and a few other aspects which point in that direction.”
Mr. Peters held his hand up to stop Fairview from talking. “What other evidence?” he asked curiously. Clearly he hadn’t been informed of it before now, and he didn’t look pleased, or maybe it was because like Mason, he knew Sophie didn’t commit suicide.
Fairview’s partner, Alverez, took the deep breath this time before he explained that they had found cuts that seemed evidence of previous attempts at self-harm. “There were a few others, but once again they are believed to be self-inflicted,” Alverez stated as he slipped a few photos from the folder he had been carrying under his arm.
Mason squeezed my hand in frustration as I caught a glimpse of the photos before Mr. Peters picked them up. Sophie had three straight cuts in her skin, which formed an arrow into her wrist. A fine tipped point, a long line for the body of it and a perpendicular straight cut for the tail of the arrow. It looked very familiar to me.
“Even with the cuts you believe this was suicide?”
“The coroner believes they were all self-inflicted. Even the most predominate one,” Alverez stated before taking the photos from Mr. Peters. “We are sorry to bring such bad news. We had hoped for a different result.”
Both officers got up to leave, and Mr. Peters led them out. Mason didn’t move, and since he still had my small hand latched in the tight grasp of his larger one, I wasn’t going anywhere. Instead I waited until they were all out of earshot and pulled Mason out of sight. He looked at me, a mixture of fury and confusion. He was angry because they believed the lie that Sophie had killed herself, and confused because I had something to say after seeing the photos.
“What’s up?” he asked.
I glanced over his shoulder and around the corner to make sure no one else was listening. Mr. Peters was still talking to the police officers so I had time. “You saw the arrow mark on her wrist, right?”
Mason nodded. The anger quickly left his eyes, only to be replaced by confusion.
“I can’t be sure, but it looks like the same exact one from the photo of Mr. Miller’s wife.”
Mason cast a quizzical look. “How did you see a picture of Mr. Miller’s wife?”
“I don’t have time to explain that, but long story short, I saw her in a photo and she has the same arrow tattooed on her wrist.”
“So what do we do about it?” Mason questioned.
“You don’t do anything,” I said as I hea
rd the front door shut. “I have a plan.”
Chapter 23
Coming Clean
A few days had gone by since Mason and I heard the closing of Sophie’s case, and I still didn’t have a chance to figure out if Mr. Miller somehow was tied into this. He didn’t seem as if he would be, but I couldn’t get the image of the arrow carved into Sophie’s skin out of my head. I cringed at the thought as I pulled the front door open and walked in. Normally when I came home, it was quiet, and very rarely were either of my parents home. Today wasn’t like usual.
“How could you do this?” my father yelled.
I tensed. My dad rarely yelled, and when he did it meant that someone had fucked up big time. He was usually very patient with John and me. He always gave us a lot of chances before one of us broke the final straw. It sounded as if John had really messed up this time. That was until I heard my mom’s voice a few moments later. There were sobs mixed in with her words. I followed the sounds of their conversation to the living room and peeked around the corner, not having the desire to walk in during a fight. Especially not one of this nature.
I could see my father standing, his body rigid and unmoving as he glared down at my mother. He looked furious, and even at this distance I could see the vein throbbing in his forehead. There was a deep red color to his face, which told me they had been arguing for a while. Suddenly, even though I knew the argument was most likely about the affair, I felt sorry for my mom. She was hunched over as she sat on the couch with her head in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking, signifying that she was crying or at least hyperventilating.
I couldn't blame my father for being upset, but did he have to make it worse? She had taken a long time to tell him about the affair and the child, but I understood why she did it after she explained. It was so she wouldn’t break up our family. She still loved my dad, John, and me. She had given Sophie the best life possible, and tried to make sure we carried on as well—though she shouldn’t have had the affair in the first place.
Deadly Hallows (The Dead Ringer Series Book 1) Page 14
