The Inheritance Part VI

by Mayfield, Olivia

  “Scott Macomber is the other man who my brother told us was involved in the . . . cover-up,” Maggie said, digging through her phone to give the officer the scumbag’s address.

  Finally, after what felt like forever, the police left. Someone had been dispatched to Scott’s address to detain him for questioning in Cassandra’s disappearance, plus to obtain DNA evidence to determine if he’d raped her. The officer in charge of investigating Joel’s murder had also been updated with the information regarding his part in the events as well. And Cassandra’s case was now officially made a priority, with new evidence updating it. Lake Erie was going to be scoured for her body. The officer in charge told her he’d call to let her know when she could pick up her mother. But for now, she should stay home.

  Maggie also called her dad and in stuttering words, told him everything. He sat in stunned silence before exploding on the phone in shock and horror. Grief ripped through his voice, and he openly sobbed for a full minute after she’d told him the truth about Cassandra. He was going to book the earliest flight he could to get home. Maggie promised she’d pick him up as soon as he called her.

  The house was swept into sudden silence after everyone had gone. Maggie stared at her hands. What now?

  Andrew slipped into the kitchen, deep lines etched into his face. His eyes were tired, his mouth downturned. He got a bottle of water from the fridge and collapsed into the chair beside her. “You okay?” he said in a husky tone.

  She looked up at him and rubbed a hand along his forearm. The pain in her head was starting to ease up. “God, I’m so sorry you got tangled in all of this.” Regret twisted her stomach. So many innocent people, including herself, scarred from this. Not to mention Bethany, who was on her way to the hospital because of this nightmare.

  He reached with his other hand and cupped them over her fingers. “I’m not. But I am sorry it turned out to be so horrible.”

  “We’ll get through it.” Somehow. For now though, a crippling fatigue swept over her, and she slumped over. Her eyes burned and grew heavy. “God, I’m exhausted.”

  “I should leave, then,” he said, standing and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  “Don’t go.” Her heartbeat picked up, and she reached for his hand. “Please. I don’t want . . .” She didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to let him go.

  His eyes turned soft, and he nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  They locked up the house then went upstairs; she didn’t bother to flick on the bedroom light. Maggie kicked off her pants and shirt, and Andrew did the same. They tucked under the covers, Andrew cupped against her back, one hand draped possessively across her stomach, the other stroking her hair.

  Despite her extreme fatigue, Maggie couldn’t sleep. Her mind wouldn’t shut off. Images of Cassandra, dead at the bottom of the lake, haunted her. Her brother choking Bethany and trying to punch Maggie. Her mother holding a gun, her eyes filled with anger. “Andrew, it doesn’t feel real. I can’t believe this really happened. I don’t know how to deal with it,” she admitted.

  “We’ll get through this,” he whispered into her ear, soft puffs of air caressing the shell of her ear. She snuggled deeper into his embrace. “I’m here for you, every step of the way.”

  Maggie stayed awake well into the night, eventually falling into a rough sleep sometime before dawn.

  Chapter 32

  Maggie woke the next morning, her eyes gritty and swollen and head throbbing slightly at the temples to the sound of her cell phone ringing. Andrew groaned and rolled over, his chest against her back.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, slipping out of bed, tossing on yoga pants and a tank top and taking the phone to the hallway. It was David calling. “Hello?”

  “Maggie, are you okay?” he said. Concern poured into his tone.

  “Not really,” she admitted as she walked down the stairs. “Last night was awful. I guess you heard?”

  “I did. I was going to call you when I first got to the station this morning, but I figured after all of that you might need to sleep.” She heard beeping sounds and several people talking in the background. Paper rustled. “So I wanted to update you with some information about your brother and mom if you’re ready for it.”

  Maggie padded into the kitchen and started the coffeemaker, then grabbed some paper and a pen from a kitchen drawer. “That sounds great. Oh, do you know where Bethany is, by the way?” she asked.

  More rustling papers. “Yes. She’s at St. John Medical Center in Westlake. According to our reports, she woke up this morning around four thirty. She’s stable. You can probably go see her as soon as the doctor gives approval.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Maggie breathed out. Grateful tears welled in her eyes, and she quietly sniffled. The woman was okay. Physically, at least. Emotionally and mentally, well, that remained to be seen. “I’ll give the hospital a call and find out more information.” She paused. “Okay, so what’s going on with my brother?”

  David cleared his throat. “Of course, I can only tell you public information at the moment, but your brother was arrested and charged with Bethany’s assault. He’s also being interrogated regarding your sister’s disappearance, as you know. Part of the reason I wanted to call you is because last night, he’d confessed to being the one who’d broken into your mother’s house and destroyed your belongings.”

  Her stomach sank. “Wait, it was him?” Not Bethany? “But why? He has a key—why would he break in? That makes no sense.”

  “People’s actions don’t always make sense. But from what I could discern in his drunken rambles, I think he was trying to throw you off his trail by making it look like someone else had done it.”

  Unreal. Robert’s deception had no bounds. “Okay,” she said dully, “thanks for letting me know.”

  “Maggie, that’s not all.” David’s voice dropped down. “Your brother . . . did a lot of confessing last night. We’re still trying to sort through what’s real or not. I want you to be prepared in the aftermath of all of this about what is going to come out, okay?”

  “What?” she made herself ask, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. God, how much worse could this get? “What else did he say?”

  “I can’t get into it right now until we have evidence to support his claims, but I’ll let you know as soon as I can.” Officer David was firmly back in place.

  Maggie couldn’t blame him. It had to be supremely awkward for him to know all of their family’s dirt and still maintain a level of professional distance. How was she going to look the man in the eye again? “I understand,” she finally said in as even a tone as she could muster. “I appreciate you telling me this much. Is my mother okay, at least?”

  “She’s doing fine. She decided to stay at the station all night in case your brother revealed any new information about your sister. You can pick her up anytime you’re ready. She wasn’t arrested, by the way, since your brother decided to not press charges against her for attempted assault. We’re letting her go with a warning.”

  Maggie pressed a hand to her chest, drawing in a couple of slow breaths. “Okay, I appreciate the update. I’m gonna go shower and get dressed so I can pick her up. And David . . .” She paused then rushed on. “Thank you again for everything. And . . . I’d be grateful if you could keep as much of this to yourself as possible. I know there’s information that’s in the public domain and that—”

  “Hey, no worries,” he soothed. “My lips are sealed as best as they can be. I’ve always thought of you guys as friends. And the last thing I want to do is cause you more anxiety right now.”

  “Thank you,” she repeated quietly, a small weight lifting off her shoulders.

  “If you need something, please let me know,” David added.

  Maggie agreed, and they hung up. She stared at the phone, knowing things were just going to get worse. Once this news broke to the m
edia—and it would break, if only because of the salacious nature of it all—things were going to become very stressful for a while. She wanted to do nothing more than hole up in bed and hide until the whole thing went away.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. And if her mom could face the music and steel herself, Maggie could too.

  Her phone buzzed. A text message from her dad.

  Flight just landed. Called a cab to take me straight to police station—figured it was quicker. Will see you when you get there.

  She replied she’d hurry, then ran back upstairs. Andrew was stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, turning that intense blue gaze to hers. He sat up, and the sheet draped across the lower part of his tight torso. “I was going to come down, but I figured you might need some alone time to talk.”

  She sighed, running a finger through her messy hair. Her emotions were starting to overtake her, so she drew in a couple of steadying breaths. “I’m just . . . ugh. There’s so much to do and not enough time. I need to hurry and shower, and then go to the station to meet my dad and mom there, and I’m worried there will be TV cameras—”

  “Hey,” he said, reaching over and stroking her arms, drawing her closer. “One step at a time. We’ll get through this.”

  “I can’t ask you to take more time off work,” she protested.

  “Too late.” He gave a small grin. “I already did—called my partner a few minutes ago. So you’re stuck with me.”

  Her heart swelled. “Where would I be without you?” she managed to say.

  “You’re a strong person. You would have gotten through this regardless. But I’m glad I’m able to help.”

  Andrew had proven himself time and again to be a rock through this ordeal. He’d been innocent, despite all her fears. And now that everything was wrapping up with her sister’s disappearance, she was going to have to move back home to Florida and leave him behind. Her heart thudded painfully at the thought.

  How could she leave him? Not when he’d become so important to her.

  She was in love with him.

  Plain and simple. This man had captured her heart again—not the young love of a teen, but a fiery, solid ferocity that shocked her to the core. A feeling that made her want to be with him all the time.

  Could he ever feel the same way about her? Her head grew a little dizzy from the realization—what a strange time for this to hit her. But her heart wouldn’t let her ignore her feelings.

  “You okay?” he asked, concern marring his brow.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m fine,” she stumbled out, tearing her gaze away from his. Focus. Now was not the time to delve into this. Later. She’d think on it later, figure out what exactly this meant. “Um, I’m going to—I’m going to shower now. Unless you wanted to shower first,” she added, a hot flush crawling up her throat. Not right now.

  “I’ll shower when you’re done.”

  “We can . . . swing by your place when I’m done and you can change there if you want,” she added.

  “That would be great.”

  Maggie rushed through her shower. When she got back into her room, it was empty, the bed made and the blanket tucked in tidily. She threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, tugged her hair into a low ponytail at her nape and headed downstairs. Andrew had donned yesterday’s outfit again.

  He poured coffee into two travel mugs and handed her one. “I figured you might want some.”

  She put the mug down on the counter, reached out to him and hugged him close, pressing her cheek against his chest. “Thank you,” she said.

  “It’s just coffee.” He chuckled and ran his free hand along her neck.

  His touch brought a steady hum to her buzzing nerves. She took a sip. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

  He nodded. They locked the door behind them, loaded into his car, and took off for Andrew’s condo.

  ***

  The visit to the police station had taken its toll on Maggie. By the time she and Andrew had met her with her parents, finished talking to the police and finding out more about Robert’s charges—which included a police investigation into his role in Joel’s murder, the part David hadn’t wanted to mention over the phone—Maggie was ready to curl up in a corner and cry herself to sleep. She couldn’t have dreamed how hard this all would be.

  According to Robert’s testimony, he had overheard Maggie’s phone conversation with Joel and in a panic called Scott, worried that Joel would confess the truth about Cassandra’s death. So Scott had picked Robert up that fateful night of the meeting and told him that they needed to deal with the situation, right now. When Scott had seen Joel’s car heading toward the beach, he drove the man off the road.

  Robert had been in the passenger seat, an unwilling accomplice in murder. His hands bloodied yet again. Scott had sat in the interrogation room and offered nothing up except for a request for a lawyer.

  Once she, Andrew and her parents had stepped outside of the police station, several TV anchors jumped right on them, pressing for an interview, thrusting microphones and cameras in their faces. Andrew had cuddled her close while Maggie’s dad did the same to her mom, and they got in their cars without saying a word and drove off.

  “You want to go home now?” Andrew asked her after they got on the street. His voice was quiet but there was a thread of lingering anger there, his frustration at the media apparent in his tight grip on the steering wheel, the clench of his jaw.

  Maggie swallowed. “Can we just . . . can we go somewhere else for a little while? I need a break from everything.” Her father had called a company to clean up the living room carpet and get rid of Robert’s bloodstain, and she didn’t want to hang around while that happened.

  Didn’t want to face that living room, remember the hate that had blazed in her brother’s eyes at her. How he’d tried to punch her. Where the situation could have gone, had Andrew not been there to intervene.

  Her shoulders shook, and a sob erupted. God, this was so messed up.

  Andrew pulled the car over in an empty gas station parking lot. “Shh, hey,” he soothed, drawing her into an embrace. He stroked her upper back, letting her cry on his shoulder. “I know. It’s okay.”

  “But it’s not okay,” she sputtered, and pulled back. Tears clung to her eyelashes and wet her cheeks. “I miss her, Andrew,” Maggie choked out. “And she’s gone for good, and I’ll never get to see my sister again.” Because even if they did find Cassandra at the bottom of Lake Erie, eight long years had gone by.

  Eight years for her to decompose . . .

  Maggie ripped the door open and heaved her stomach’s contents onto the pavement beside the car. Her stomach cramped as she vomited until nothing was left inside her. Then she thudded her forehead against the cool dashboard and drew in several shaky gulps of air. “Sorry,” she managed to say.

  A napkin appeared in front of her face. She took it gratefully and wiped her mouth with a trembling hand, then balled it into her palm. The door was still cracked, and a brisk breeze swept in.

  “Want some water?” he asked.

  She lifted her head and peered at Andrew through tear-blurred eyes, giving a slight nod.

  “I’m going into the gas station. I’ll be back in a moment—just stay here.” Andrew hopped out of the car and went into the gas station’s convenience store, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  She closed her door—she couldn’t bear to see the evidence of her sickness beside the car—and pressed her forehead against the dashboard once more. Slow breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. Her sister had passed a long time ago; she wasn’t in pain anymore. Though this all was fresh for Maggie, she needed to remember that Cassandra’s soul was in a better place right now, unaware of what her brother and his friends had done to her. Maggie would be strong enough to deal with it for both
of them. She would do it for Cassandra.

  After a couple of minutes Andrew came out again, bearing a small bag. He slipped into the car and turned the heat up to ward off the chill. “Brought you a couple of things,” he said and took out a bottle of water, plus one of those disposable toothbrushes. “And there’s some Pepto Bismol as well, in case your stomach is still feeling sick.”

  Her heart swelled. His eyes were shadowed with concern for her; she felt bad for worrying him, but seeing how much he cared about her . . . it eased that band of tension around her chest just a touch.

  She rinsed, brushed her teeth and put the stuff back in the bag. Her stomach was still a bit tight but she didn’t feel like throwing up anymore. “Thanks,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I appreciate it.”

  “You okay?” With his free hand he smoothed a strand of hair from her brow, then leaned over and brushed his warm lips against her forehead. “I’m worried about you,” he whispered.

  “I’ll be okay eventually,” she said and clung to his hand for all the comfort she could take from him. He was a lighthouse in the storm of her emotions. She needed him right now, needed his security. “Can we . . . go back to your place for a little bit? I just don’t want to go home. Not right now.” Besides, no doubt her parents had a lot of talking to do, and they didn’t need her around for that.

  One side of his mouth tilted up just a fraction. “You don’t even have to ask,” he said, eyes so intense as they fixed on her.

  All that emotion she felt for him bubbled up again to the surface of her thoughts. Should she talk to him about it? Yes, they were dating, but was he interested in her long-term? The way she was with him? Because every moment she spent in Andrew’s company reinforced that he was exactly where she wanted to be.

  For good.