by J. M. Madden
Her head bobbed from side to side. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell us. It was that she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
I crouched down next to her. “Listen to me. Any second, the ambulance will be here, the lieutenant will be here, and the chance you have to tell us what happened before everyone else questions you will be gone. I know it’s hard. But try. Please.”
Face stained with tears, she detached herself from Will and looked up. “I don’t know what happened. I found him like this.”
Cade bent down next to me. “What were you doing before you found him?”
“I … we … had dinner together. I was still having trouble sleeping, so Will gave me some sleeping pills. We finished dinner, and I went to bed.”
“What time?”
“Around seven.”
“What was Will doing when you went to bed?”
“He said he was going to run to the store and pick up a few things.”
“And did he?”
“One of the last things I remember before I fell asleep was Will’s SUV pulling out of the garage, so yes. A few minutes later, I was out. I slept for a few hours. When I woke up again, my throat was dry. I needed water. I called for Will. He didn’t answer. I shouted his name again. Same thing.”
Outside, sirens wailed along the sleepy street. Cade looked at me. We didn’t have much time.
“When he didn’t answer you, what did you do?” Cade asked.
“I got up, checked his office. He wasn’t there. Checked the bathroom and the living room. He wasn’t there either. I walked into the kitchen and saw him hunched over on the floor. I yelled to him. He didn’t move. I reached down and rolled him over, and that’s when I saw it.”
“Saw what?” Cade asked.
Wren bent Will to the side.
The handle of a knife was protruding from his chest.
THIRTEEN
Although Shorty and a couple others eyed me like they wondered what I was doing at the crime scene, none of them questioned it, at least not in front of me anyway. And I made myself look as inconspicuous as possible, sitting inside Cade’s truck while the area was cordoned off and processed. I felt bad for leaving Wren alone after what she’d just endured, but for now, it was how it had to be, and I’d serve her best if I flew under the radar.
An hour later, Cade walked to the truck, got inside, started the engine.
“I wondered where you got off to,” he said.
“I thought it best to stay out of the way.”
“Hooker’s inside getting Will ready for transport to the morgue. We won’t know too
much more until he does the autopsy.”
“What about Wren? She hasn’t been arrested again, has she?”
“Her mother’s on her way from Montana. I’m allowing her to stay at the house for now. I have officers stationed at her door until we can figure out what the hell is going on.”
“Did anyone ask you why I was with you?”
“Shorty did. I’m not surprised. He’s the most brazen one of the bunch. I suspect the others put him up to it.”
“What did you say?”
“I said it was none of his damned business.” He reached over, gave my ribcage a squeeze. “I figure you’re already involved, so this is how we play it. I’ll tell you what I know. You tell me what you know. We’ve always been best at solvin’ things when we work together, right?”
“You’re willing to share information with me?”
“I trust you. Besides, any of my men who says he doesn’t go home and talk to his woman is a liar.”
“What about your position? I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”
“You won’t. We’ll keep to ourselves about it unless there’s a reason not to.”
He leaned his head back, sighed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Somethin’s been eatin’ me from day one. There was a picture in a frame sitting on an end table in June’s living room. The entire pane of glass was cracked. It had either fallen over or been knocked over, and someone set it back up again.”
Or it never fell and someone busted it on purpose.
Or it busted when the killer was climbing through the living room window.
“Who was in the picture?”
“June, Wren, and Will. Looked like it was taken at Wren and Will’s wedding.” He paused. “I went to see Will’s sister Patty this mornin’. She said Wren and June didn’t get along. June wedged herself between Will and Wren to the point that Wren threatened to move to a different state if she didn’t back off and give them some space. She said Wren could never commit murder though.”
It was hard to believe June was so involved, considering she had kept herself busy with another man whom none of her children knew about. Then again, it would explain why she started seeing someone in the first place. “Wedged herself meaning June was possessive of Will?”
“I got the impression it was more like June doted on him. Even after all this time, she had a hard time acceptin’ another woman had taken her place.”
“Even if we believed Wren had the ability to murder June, which we don’t, it doesn’t explain why she would kill her mother-in-law just to turn around and kill her husband.”
“I spoke to Simon too. Simon was hung up on some co-worker of Wren’s Will said was getting too close to her.”
“Did he give you a name?”
“Gabriel Mendez. He teaches history.”
“Did he say why Will thought they were getting close?”
Cade shrugged. “Don’t know. He only said Will mentioned it at dinner on Sunday night.”
“In front of everyone, or only to Simon?”
“Only to him, I believe. This whole thing just doesn’t feel right, you know?”
“I know,” I said. “It doesn’t feel right to me either.”
FOURTEEN
The following morning, I flew to California to meet Sebastian Ayres in the flesh. From what Cade had been told, Seal Beach PD had been unsuccessful in its efforts to bring Sebastian in for questioning. I wanted to know why.
Sebastian lived about a minute’s walk from the beach in a white house with canary blue shutters. Terra cotta pots stuffed with flowers lined each of the three front porch steps, and the lawn was littered with half a dozen whirly-gigs in various shapes and sizes.
The scenery spoke volumes.
But what it didn’t say was “bachelor pad.”
I climbed the porch steps, knocked on the door. The curtain inside the house was pulled to the side, and a woman looked out, squinting when she didn’t recognize me. The curtains closed. Seconds later, the door opened.
The woman blinking at me was at least ten years older than I was, about my height, and stocky, but she had a pleasant, rosy face. And very round, like a Tootsie Pop.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“I hope so. I’m looking for Sebastian Ayres.”
“Oh, okay. Just one minute.”
Her melodic voice called out to him.
He didn’t come to the door. He yelled, “What is it?”
“There’s a woman here to see you,” she said.
“I just sat down. Let her inside.”
The woman smiled at me and let me pass.
“How do you know Sebastian?” she asked.
“We have a mutual friend. How do you know him?”
She smiled like she found the question amusing. “I’m his wife.”
His wife?
I had a feeling things were about to get interesting.
Sebastian didn’t look up when I entered the room, instead choosing to concentrate on the ham-and-cheese parked on the center of a plate on his lap. He took a bite and set the sandwich back down, wiping a good-size dollop of mustard off his lips with the side of his arm. He was bald and had an oversized head, which matched perfectly with his ample belly.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
Not expecting to find a married man,
I wasn’t sure how to reply. “My name is Sloane Monroe, and I live in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. A friend of a friend said she knew you and that, if I ever found myself in Seal Beach, you’d be able to give me some advice on the best things to do in the city.”
“Sebastian’s parents used to live in Wyoming,” the woman said.
Sebastian handed his plate to his wife. “Honey, would you take this for me? And would you mind making this young woman a glass of iced tea? I’m sure she’s thirsty.”
I opened my mouth to object then snapped it closed again after seeing the intensity in his eyes when he looked at me. He wanted her out of the room. If he really was a lying, cheating, home-wrecker, I didn’t blame him for wanting the privacy.
His wife smiled. “I’m sorry. I should have offered you something when you came in. By the way, I’m Carol. It’s nice to meet you, Sloane.”
Carol turned and walked out of the room. Sebastian wiped a few breadcrumbs off his shirt and stood.
“We have an enclosed patio out back. Why don’t we go sit out there?”
He opened the sliding glass door, and we walked outside.
“Your place, it’s nice,” I said.
He didn’t mince words.
In a barely audible voice, he said, “Who sent you here?”
“What would you say if I said June?”
He lowered himself onto a plastic patio chair, dangled his hands between his knees. “June wouldn’t ever send anyone to my house. So why are you really here?”
“You two had a romantic relationship.”
“If you say so.”
At least he didn’t flat-out deny it.
“She flew here four times in the last five weeks. Does your wife know?”
“She knows I messed up, doesn’t know who with.”
“Are you saying she’s okay with it?”
He flicked a hand in the air. “It’s not important. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m here because June’s dead.”
His hands moved to the plastic armrests on the chair, clenching so hard, I thought they might snap off.
“I tried calling yesterday,” he muttered. “She didn’t answer. She always answers.”
“You didn’t know she was dead, did you?”
He shook his head. “When? What happened?”
“A few days ago. She was murdered.”
“How?”
“She was stabbed.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“I don’t know anything about it. How would I?”
“According to June, she was selling her house and moving here to be with you. So I’d say you know quite a bit.”
“Selling her … no … that can’t be right.”
“The night she was murdered, she told her kids the two of you were in a relationship and that she was moving to Seal Beach.”
“She said she was thinking of selling the house, but she didn’t … I mean, nothing had been decided yet.”
“Her son is also dead.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Which one?”
“Will.”
He hung his head, stared at the ground. “Same night? Same way?”
“Different night. Same way. Mr. Ayres, how long were you and June involved?”
“Why are you here asking questions? You’re not dressed like a cop, so obviously you aren’t one. You weren’t June’s friend either. She never mentioned you.”
I gave him a brief overview of how I came to be involved with the Bancroft family, halting mid-conversation when Carol opened the sliding-glass door and handed both of us an iced tea. Carol looked at Sebastian’s watery eyes and said, “Everything okay out here?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, hun,” he said. “Miss Monroe was just telling me about some friends of my parents who passed away this last week.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” she said.
Sebastian stood, looked at me. “Thanks for stopping by. I’ll walk you to your car.”
Apparently, I was leaving.
On my way out, I passed a bedroom, noting a zipped carry-on bag inside the doorway of what appeared to be the master bedroom. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Actually, Sebastian just returned from Chicago,” Carol said.
No wonder local police hadn’t talked to him yet.
I turned to Sebastian. “Why were you in Chicago?”
“Business trip.”
“When did you get back?”
“This morning,” he said.
He yawned. A few seconds passed. He yawned again. He was nervous, agitated. It wasn’t hard to understand why. I exited the house. He followed close behind. Carol remained inside.
“Listen, I had feelings for June,” he said. “But her moving here wasn’t my idea. It was hers. She thought if she lived closer to me, I’d leave my wife.”
“And would you have?”
“I made it clear it wasn’t ever going to happen.”
Not clear enough, obviously.
“If I were you,” he continued, “I’d look closer to home.”
Good thing he wasn’t me, because from where I stood, he had GUILTY stamped all over his face. It was conceivable that he killed June to save his wife from dealing with one affair that wasn’t going away gracefully. It didn’t explain why Will was dead though. “You’re not telling me everything, Mr. Ayres. I’ve been doing this long enough now that I can tell when someone’s lying to me. You’re going to be questioned by the police. I suggest you consider your story.”
“I don’t know anything, Miss Monroe. I just know the tree you’re barking up is the wrong one.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I got inside my car, looked at Sebastian, and said, “We’ll talk soon.”
He frowned.
I closed the door to the rental car and answered my phone. It was Cade.
“How are things goin’ out there?” he asked.
“I’ve just finished talking to Sebastian.”
“And?”
“And you need to find out where he’s been for the last few days. I noticed a luggage bag in his bedroom doorway, and his wife said he’d just returned from Chicago.”
“His wife?”
“Yeah, I had the same reaction.”
“Did he admit to having an affair with June?”
“He did, but he said he would have never left his wife for her.”
“Why would June move there then?”
“I have no idea,” I said.
“When’s your flight back?”
“Two hours. I’m headed to Long Beach Airport now.”
“Okay, good.”
His voice was different, off somehow.
“Is everything okay? You sound preoccupied.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll fill you in when you get back. Okay?”
Not okay.
Something was definitely wrong.
“Cade, what is it? Just tell me.”
He took a long breath in. “Wren’s dead, Sloane.”
My phone slipped from my sweaty palm. I reached down, grabbed it off the floor.
“Hey,” Cade said. “You still there?”
I put the phone back on my ear. “I’m here. What happened? I thought you said there were officers outside of her door. I thought her mother was there.”
“I did, and she is.”
“Then how is Wren dead?”
“She locked herself inside her bedroom a couple hours ago, removed Will’s gun from the wall safe, and shot herself.”
FIFTEEN
Grief had the ability to consume the soul, its temperamental hand slithering its way inside, circling our hearts, squeezing until the bloody pump ran dry. Most recovered, managing to move on in spite of the devastating setbacks.
Not all of us were capable though.
Not all of us knew how to let go.
Not all of us wanted to let go.
Some of us ceased to live when the one thing that was worth living for died right before our eyes.
Such was the case with Wren.
I made one final pit stop before returning home, hoping a conversation with Will’s brother Simon would clear up a few nagging questions floating around inside my head. I pulled up to his driveway, found Simon inside his garage, polishing the paint on a pristinely kept hog. His shaggy, blond hair was so light it was almost white. And he was tall, at least six foot three, and had a robust, farm boy appearance—like he worked out, but not at the gym.
“Nice Harley,” I said.
He looked me up and down, laughed. “What would you know about motorcycles?”
“My grandpa used to have a Strap Tank Single displayed in the corner of his office at home. He refused to keep it anywhere else. Drove my grandma crazy.”
He showed minimal interest. “What year?”
“Somewhere around 1910, I think.”
He stood up, wiped his greasy hands on a towel next to him. “You ever actually ridden on one before?”
I stepped forward. “Stand aside and you’ll find out.”
At last, the beginnings of a smile.
I did my best to take advantage of the moment. “I’m—”
“I know who you are, and I know why you’re here.”
“You do?”
“My sister called. Said you’d be coming by.”
I’d spoken to Patty on the phone a half hour before, when I left the airport. She agreed to meet for a few minutes the following day, but not before then. Today she couldn’t. She was back at the funeral home, making second and third arrangements.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“You don’t even know me. Why do you care?”
I suppose I didn’t. “When you left your mother’s house the other night, you were angry.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Nothing. I just wondered why.”
He leaned back onto a stack of cardboard boxes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m sure the news of her selling her house and moving came as a surprise.”
“To everyone else in my family. Not to me.”
“What did you know that your siblings didn’t?”
“It wasn’t what I knew, it was what I saw—what no one else wanted to see.”
