by Eryn Scott
“Tell me about it. What’s got a lovely woman like you so down?”
Hadley said, “That was me. I was homecoming queen with my high school sweetheart, but we’ve just recently divorced.” Looking behind them and noticing a line of people who wanted to peruse Edith’s pictures, she added, “I can’t exactly talk about it here. Maybe some other day while you’re in town.”
Jennifer patted her hand. “Definitely. You come by Edith’s any day this week and tell me all about it. In the meantime, I want you to have this.” She closed the yearbook and handed it to Hadley. When Hadley opened her mouth to protest, Jennifer said, “And I won’t take no for an answer. We’ve got plenty of other pictures of her for today. Keep it as proof that the right person is out there for everyone. Just because it didn’t work out the first time doesn’t mean you can’t still find your true love.”
Hadley held the yearbook tight and nodded, not sure she trusted her voice. Someone called Jennifer over to their group, so Hadley took the opportunity and stepped into the small area between the table and the wall, pulling in a few deep breaths to collect herself. She was completely hidden by Suze’s large watercolor portrait and the picture collages Jennifer had put together.
After a few seconds and some rapid blinking Hadley finally felt okay to come out, but a gruff voice stopped her.
“This isn’t the time nor the place, Catherine.”
Dirk Croft.
Hadley slowed her breathing and ducked a little lower behind the canvas.
“Well when is?” His wife, Cathy, hissed the question out at him.
“I said, not here.”
“After what you’ve put me through, I think I deserve to talk wherever I want.”
“Cath, I’m trying to fix it. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I’m trying to fix it. Just let me do that, okay?”
“Fine.” Hadley could just about hear Cathy’s teeth clenching together.
“Now, come on. I can’t stand to look at him any longer, especially not next to her.”
“I thought you said you’d dropped all that?” There was a teasing sneer in Cathy’s tone as their voices faded.
“I have,” Dirk grumbled, almost out of Hadley’s earshot. The Croft’s voices were replaced with another group of mourners.
Drop all what? Hadley wondered. Had he been the third person in their high school love triangle? Did he hold a grudge against Edith all of these years later that she hadn’t picked him?
Clutching the yearbook tightly to her chest, Hadley slipped out from behind the table, scooting behind a few large groups so she wouldn’t be seen until she was standing near the refreshments table. Just when she thought she was in the clear, someone stepped up behind her, very close.
“Hiding and stealing at a funeral,” Luke whispered in her ear. “Hadley James, the years have changed you.” He made a fake tsking sound with his tongue and smirked as she turned to face him. “And not all for the better, I’m afraid.”
Glancing down at the yearbook, Hadley said, “Jennifer gave this to me. I didn’t steal it. What kind of a person do you think I am?” She had the urge to smack his arm like she used to when they were kids, but thankfully held back.
“But you were hiding, then?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Luuuke.” She groaned, stretching out his name. “I don’t have time for this right now. I need to find Paul.” She looked past him at the crowd.
Dirk might very well be the killer. She needed to tell her brother.
Luke’s face darkened, any childish teasing leaving his features in an instant. He nodded. “He’s over there.” Luke pointed to the refreshments table.
With a quick “thanks,” Hadley made a beeline through the crowd, careful not to bump anyone as she wove through—a good portion of Stoneybrookians fell squarely in the AARP category.
Paul was just finishing up one of Mickie’s famous sugar cookies when Hadley reached him, her hand clasping around his arm like a lobster claw. He jumped.
“We need to talk. Now.” She dragged him into the hallway behind them.
It wasn’t until she turned to face him that she realized that Luke had followed them.
“Don’t start without me!” Suze said, racing in from the main room as well. When Hadley gave her a questioning look, she added, “I spotted you blazing through the crowd from across the room, Had. I know you just found out something big, like win-the-race big.”
Luke cocked an eyebrow at her. “What race?”
Suze just waved a hand to dismiss him and leaned forward. “So, what is it?”
Hadley explained to them about Edith’s love triangle and Dirk’s apparent dislike of Henry.
“They all went to high school together, just like all of us,” she said. “I think Dirk was the other guy, and I think he’s been holding a grudge this whole time. The property fight, on top of all of his money troubles could’ve been more than enough to push him over the edge.” Hadley sighed, happy to have it all off her chest.
Paul seemed to agree with her assessment, because he pulled out his phone. “Luke, go find Kevin. Tell him to meet me out at my truck. I’m going to call McKay and see if we finally have enough to justify bringing him in for questioning.”
Luke nodded and disappeared back inside the main room. Hadley and Suzanne stood in the hallway, waiting to see what happened, hoping Paul was right.
25
Later that night, Hadley curled up on her couch with a plate of her mother’s famous lasagna. She still had a few portions left over in her freezer from when she’d been in the throes of her divorce and hadn’t felt like moving from under her covers, let alone cooking herself a meal.
Her mother had been a huge comfort for her during that time—her whole family had, in fact. Other than Suze, she’d always been lucky to call her family her friends—and similarly, when it came to Suze, she felt she could call her friend family. She couldn’t wait until her mom and dad got back from their extended visit with Gran in Oregon.
But Ansel was comforting her in their absence. While the little guy usually curled up in the general vicinity of where she was in the house, tonight he was purring away in her lap. She wasn’t surprised, though. Cats had instincts about that kind of thing. He had been giving her extra attention ever since she got home.
She sighed, leaning back into the cushions and closing her eyes. It had been an eventful night. McKay had conceded to bringing Dirk in for questioning. Paul and Kevin waited until everyone left the funeral reception and then followed the Crofts home, where they picked up Dirk for questions pertaining to the murder of Edith Butler.
Cathy had broken down when Paul and Kevin had shown up. She admitted to them right there that Dirk’s alibi had been false. She was sorry for going along with the lie, but had been embarrassed. Cathy had suspected he was lying about his whereabouts for weeks and had thought he might be cheating on her. She had never imagined he’d hurt anyone.
Hadley understood the embarrassment of being cheated on. The pain she felt at Tyler’s betrayal was still palpable, as if he’d actually punched her in the stomach instead of—well, instead of what he did. The money he was spending on business trips had been the source of many arguments between the two of them over the past two years. And she’d been suspicious when his company began sending him on more trips, to more exotic locations. But it was Tyler. She’d known him her whole life and trusted him implicitly.
To her own detriment, apparently.
As it turned out, he was careful, and very good at lying. Eerily so. It had taken an email from his mistress telling Hadley what had been happening for the past two years to open her eyes. Christina, as she signed her email, was sick of Tyler telling her he was going to leave Hadley. She figured an email, getting it out in the open, would kick him into action.
Though the email hadn’t had the desired effect on Tyler—he promised he would stop seeing Christina, that it was over—it did kick Hadley into action. She filed for divorce and spent the money sh
e had left—that Tyler hadn’t spent on his clandestine getaways, that were most decidedly not work—on a lawyer. It was the reason she’d had to put the jam storefront idea on hold, the reason she still rode a bike around town. The fees for the divorce added to his dalliances before it, had all but wiped her out.
Between the cheating and their money he’d thrown at his affair, Hadley could’ve had the whole town on her side during the breakup. But an odd thing happened when she thought about telling them during those first few days; she realized that even with everything he’d done, she didn’t want to destroy him or his reputation. If he wanted to tell his family, the people they’d grown up with, that was his decision. She didn’t want to have to bear that burden.
As it was, he hadn’t said anything, but had moved to Seattle—Hadley assumed to finally be with Christina now that she wouldn’t have him—and Hadley had seemed like the terrible, finicky woman who’d divorced the town’s golden boy for no reason.
Putting her now-empty plate of lasagna aside, Hadley slipped out her high school yearbook. She’d dug it out once she’d gotten home, but needed a full stomach before she thought of opening it.
She flipped to her homecoming picture with Tyler. His big smile and dark, floppy hair had been irresistible to her back then—to all the girls, really. But he’d always only had eyes for her, ever since they turned seventeen and he’d kissed her over the river bridge one starry night.
I suppose I have to amend that to he used to only have eyes for me, Hadley mused as she flipped the page and found the scrawling signatures and well-wishes of her classmates and friends. Most were friendly, gushing over fun memories, but there were a few that made Hadley frown.
Richard Stewart had written a crass, “Peace out, Had. Getting out of this town. Smell ya’ll later.” Then there was Bella Green, who’d simply written, “I should’ve been homecoming queen.” Luckily, Hadley and Bella had since buried whatever hatchet had been between them in high school and Hadley often visited her at her father’s bookshop in town.
Something clicked in Hadley’s brain at the thought. The things people wrote in yearbooks were often poorly veiled attempts to cover up all matter of high school drama and strife. Hadley’s focus shifted to Edith’s yearbook on her coffee table. Would the same be true for Edith’s friends?
Hadley hadn’t heard anything from Paul since they arrested Dirk, but maybe if she could find even more proof, it would make Paul’s job easier.
She leaned forward and swapped her own yearbook for Edith’s. She looked in the front, through the pages, and in the back. Dirk Croft hadn’t signed Edith’s yearbook at all. Hadley scrunched her forehead together in frustration.
About to close it, one of the notes caught Hadley’s eye. “I will never forget you and Henry.” She pulled the book closer, her heartbeat rising steadily as her gaze traced over the familiar handwriting. Then she looked at the signature and shook her head.
There’s no way.
Suddenly the clues began to make sense, to fall into place.
Or is there?
She scooted Ansel off her lap and grabbed her phone from the counter, dialing Paul.
“Hey.” He sounded so tired, she could practically hear the slump of his shoulders through the speaker.
“Do you have that writing sample from the threatening note with you?” Hadley tapped her fingers on her counter, needing an outlet for her anxiety as she waited—her pink nail polish was history after the week she’d had.
“Uh, it’s in the interrogation room, I think. Had… we had to let Dirk go.”
“Good. He didn’t do it.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Well, I won’t know for sure until you send me a picture of that note.”
“Hold on.” Paul’s breath came in short puffs as it sounded like he was jogging somewhere. “Okay, coming through.”
Hadley put the call on speaker and held it in front of her so she could see the picture as soon as it came through; sometimes it took a while out in the mountains as they were.
Paul kept talking while she waited. “Dirk had an alibi, was off meeting with the guy from Cascade Ridge Property Management during lunch off and on over the last few weeks. He was lying to everyone because he didn’t want anyone to know he was working with them because then we’d find out how much financial trouble his company is in and how much he owes this Cascade Ridge company. But they’ve got him on camera. And McKay finally located Robert’s letters to Edith in one of her drawers. They were apology notes. He’d written them in prison, but had been too nervous to send them, so he started mailing them once he knew he was going to have to live in Stoneybrook for a while. It wasn’t him either.”
Nodding absentmindedly while she listened, Hadley focused on the picture as it came through. She looked at the yearbook, then back at the picture just to be sure.
“It’s Cathy. That’s her handwriting. Cathy killed Edith.”
“Hold on; I’m coming over.”
“Has Dirk left yet?” Hadley pleaded.
A relieved exhale whooshed out of Paul. “No. I’ll have Kevin keep him here. Hold tight.”
Hadley didn’t even have the wherewithal to hang up the call, instead letting it go dark when Paul hung up on his end. Her brain was working too hard figuring out how Cathy had almost gotten away with it all.
Her yearbook message would’ve appeared normal enough to anyone, but the handwriting had caught Hadley’s attention. Then she’d read it again, knowing that Jennifer had mentioned a person standing in the way of Edith and Henry’s budding relationship. It hadn’t been Dirk in love with Edith, but Cathy in love with Henry. And Henry had chosen Edith, not Cathy.
Hadley glanced down at the picture of the threatening note that had been left on Edith’s counter. “You’ve already taken what’s mine once. I won’t stand for it again. Watch your back!” Cathy must’ve thought Edith was after Dirk.
A few minutes later, tires squealed to a stop outside, and footsteps thumped up her walkway. The sound of the front door slamming shut sounded as Paul jogged into her kitchen.
Snapping her fingers, Hadley said, “She thought Dirk was having an affair with Edith!”
Paul shot her a questioning look.
“Dirk wasn’t telling about his meetings in Cascade Ridge, so I’m guessing he didn’t tell her that he was trying to get Edith to sell her land. Luke said he’d been over there a lot lately, trying to convince Edith. Cathy must’ve found out he was spending time at Edith’s and jumped to the conclusion they were having an affair. After losing Henry to Edith, she wasn’t about to lose Dirk too.”
Paul glanced at the picture of the note and the writing in the yearbook.
“And because she was Dirk’s fake alibi, we never thought to look into where she was.”
Paul got on his phone and motioned for Hadley to follow him out to his truck. She grabbed the yearbook and her phone at the last moment.
“Yes, sir. We’re sure. Absolutely. Got it.” Only hearing one side of the conversation as they jogged outside, Hadley assumed he was talking with Sheriff McKay.
Pulling open the passenger door, she launched herself up into the cab of the deputy truck. Paul dropped his phone onto the center seat and peeled out, driving toward the Croft’s.
“You’re going to stay in here. I’m just going to ask her some questions. McKay’s calling in backup, but since she implicated Dirk, he thinks it’s a possibility that she might try to run after letting her husband take the fall. If you see anything, you’re to call Kevin, but for no reason should you leave this truck. Understand?” He looked at her, taking his eyes off the road for a second until she nodded. For an annoyingly safe driver like Paul, Hadley knew that meant he was dead serious.
Worry seemed to materialize into a lump in Hadley’s throat as Paul pulled up to the Croft’s dark house. He parked and unbuckled almost simultaneously.
“Be careful,” Hadley whispered around the unbearable lump in her throat.
<
br /> “I’ll be fine. Kevin’s on his way.”
With that, Paul slipped from the driver’s side of the truck and walked up to the front porch. She saw him knock a few times before heading around to the back of the house, disappearing from sight.
26
Hadley locked the doors like Paul had told her to, then squinted into the darkness for a few seconds—which felt like years. Her stomach flipped and rolled as she sat there, helpless.
Pulling in a few long breaths, Hadley tried to calm herself. Paul was right. He was just asking her some questions. If she was even there. Plus, if she did get any funny ideas, Paul was practically a giant and worked out a ridiculous amount of time every week. Pie-baking, registered-nurse Cathy wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
Hadley needed something to do, needed to take her mind off her worry.
Realizing she still clutched the yearbook, she flipped it open, glancing up to make sure she was still watching the house for any movement after scanning each page.
Halfway through the yearbook, she saw something that made her blood run cold.
The page featured the extracurricular clubs, including Stoneybrook High’s Sharp Shooters. And front and center, rifle in hand as if it were as comfortable as her own appendage, stood a young Cathy.
Hadley glanced up at the dark house, eyes wild in their search for anything. She hadn’t heard a shot, but Paul was walking into a much different situation than he’d prepared for. Hadley clenched her teeth and growled in frustration, unsure of what to do. Paul would be furious with her if she left the truck.
Her fingers nimbly unclipped her seat belt, and she silently crept out of the truck, into the cool night.
An angry Paul is better than a dead one, she told herself as she moved closer to the house.
As she approached an open window on the side of the house, voices trickled out on the night breeze. Hadley could hear a low voice she recognized as Paul’s and then a higher one she assumed was Cathy’s. While they both sounded calm, Hadley needed to make sure Paul was okay. She walked around the back, stepping carefully onto the porch.
