“Yeah, it’s all here,” he said. “There are details of what happened, how he stabbed the man, one Sergey Ivanov, over a disagreement. He was afraid for his family and left a letter but didn’t realize the man’s blood was on it. He buried the body, and he outlines the details of where, exactly, at the edge of the state park, on Lionel’s property, in a blue tarp. He says the man had a passion for cigars and was missing the first digit of his pinkie finger on his right hand, and there would’ve been a gold gentleman’s ring with a ruby in the grave with him.”
Marcus glanced over to Raymond. He had to remind himself what he’d said, that Raymond O’Connell didn’t exist. So who were Marcus and his siblings, then?
“If I’m correct, that’s evidence the DA won’t have disclosed, but it will give credibility, and the case against your mother will be dismissed,” Raymond said.
Luke said nothing. Marcus found himself glancing over to his mom’s house before looking back at the man.
“So whose body was it, really?” Luke asked.
“Does it matter?”
“I suppose not,” Luke said. “Toss them a Russian name and some details and make it go away. I guess that’s all we could hope for.”
The man kicked at a rock and then glanced around. Marcus knew he was about to leave, but he had a million questions, and not one of them mattered.
“So who are you, really, if you’re not Raymond O’Connell? You said he doesn’t exist. What was this, here, with Mom? You married her, had six kids, and then just disappeared one night?”
The man gave him everything, and there was something in his expression, in his eyes, that made Marcus wonder for a moment whether he could feel any remorse. “Found myself caught up in a fantasy,” he said. “For a time, I thought I could have it. I was playing at something that seemed real enough. Thought I could walk away from the life that had been picked for me, but it caught up with me.” Then the man looked over to the house, and he wondered if he had fond memories at all of them, of this place.
“Your mom looks good,” Raymond said. “Karen looks just like her, and Suzanne looks like my mother. Owen, Ryan… Well, it would’ve been nice to catch up.” He stopped talking.
“So what happened downstairs that night, really?” Marcus said. “Mom said you were acting strangely, and suddenly there were people coming over that she didn’t know.”
Luke hadn’t pulled his gaze from Raymond. He had his arms crossed over his chest, studying him.
The man seemed to consider something, then made an odd sound and shook his head. “So that’s what she said,” he replied. He didn’t smile, but he did take a step back. “You can’t hide forever. I’d hoped to, but then…” The man who was his father gestured toward them. “I’ve got to go. That letter is your mom’s get-out-of-jail-free card—but do me a favor. Don’t tell her where you got it.”
He went to turn, to walk away, and Marcus wanted to call him back, but Luke slapped a hand over his chest, maybe to stop him from taking a step.
“Why did you kill him?” Marcus called out. He just couldn’t stop himself from asking.
The man turned back to him with a confused look. “Who?” he asked.
“The man in the woods, the one you buried,” Marcus said.
All the man did was shake his head. “Who said I did?”
Then the person he could think of only as Raymond O’Connell walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Marcus dragged his gaze over to Luke, who still had his hand on his chest, watching their father walk away.
“Let’s go,” Luke said, then somehow had him turned back and in the yard. He closed the gate.
“Did that just happen?” Marcus said, gesturing over the gate with his thumb. They started back to the house, Marcus still trying to wrap his head around this entire nightmare.
“Yeah,” Luke said. “Seems good old Dad showed up to save the day.”
As he pulled open the back door to step inside, he could hear his family’s voices, and he took in his mom, who was crying, wearing a bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. Suzanne was hugging her. Ryan and Jenny appeared shell-shocked, and Jack was dragging his hand over his face, his cell phone to his ear.
“Yes, thank you,” Jack said, then hung up and took them all in. “Well, I don’t know how to explain this, any of this, but that was Eileen, at the DA’s office. Seems some evidence turned up, a confession from Raymond O’Connell, that basically exonerates you, Iris. I don’t know what kind of guardian angel you have watching over you, but…” He was shaking his head.
Marcus took in his family. Karen was beside Jack, and Owen was leaning on the island, Tessa’s hands on his shoulders.
“So Raymond O’Connell, our father, just confessed to a murder and sent a letter to the DA? What the hell does this mean?” Owen said.
Marcus could hear what wasn’t being said, the questions that would likely be asked over the next few days, but as he pulled in a breath to explain, his mom dried her eyes and stood up, lifting her hands in the air as if to tell them she was okay.
“It means this bullshit case against Mom goes away,” Luke said. “That’s what this means, and nothing else really matters, does it?” He tossed Marcus a glance.
“Luke’s right,” Marcus finally said. “Mom’s cleared, and this goes away. That’s all that matters.”
Luke slipped into the living room alone and walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains, seeing the media circus still outside. He wondered if one day he’d believe what he’d said.
“So how long do you think they’ll be out there?” Marcus said as he followed his brother into the living room.
“Oh, I’d say until they find someone else’s life to rip apart,” Luke replied, then slapped a hand over Marcus’s shoulder. “You should go home to your wife and that little girl. Give them a kiss from me.”
“What about them?” Marcus said, tilting his head toward their siblings. “Don’t you think they have a right to know about Dad, him being here, what happened? Then there’s Mom. Don’t you think she’ll ask?”
He wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on Luke’s face. He seemed to consider it, then shook his head. “Maybe one day we’ll tell them, but did you see Mom’s face in there? Because I did. That woman said her goodbyes to our father a long time ago. Let sleeping dogs lie, big brother. Go on home to your wife.”
Marcus didn’t know why, but there was just something about today, about all this, that told him Luke was right. He just wanted time with his wife and his little girl. So he started to the door, then put his hand on the knob, glancing back to Luke. “You knew all along that Dad wasn’t who we thought he was?”
Luke said nothing for a second. Then an odd smile touched his lips. “It’s the world I work in. Give my best to Charlotte.”
So Marcus stepped out of the house, taking in the cameras, the media circus, the reporters. He started the two-block walk to his home, and he realized that unsettled feeling he’d been carrying for so long had finally disappeared.
Undone
Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.
Mark Twain
Chapter Sixteen
The morning after a big case, Jack felt a moment of peace. This was unlike his usual mornings, when his mind immediately kicked in with everything he needed to accomplish, forcing him out of bed before he could enjoy a moment with his wife.
The sun was just coming up, and the breeze fluttered the curtains of the open window. He ran his hands over the flat of Karen’s silky-smooth stomach. Her butt was nestled against him, and he traced the outline of her breasts, feeling the handful and enjoying the soft whisper she made as he stirred her from sleep. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, her neck, touching her, loving the feel of her against him. He maneuvered her, still half asleep, over onto her back.
God damn, she was beautiful.
He ran his hand over her leg, her thigh, just imagining himself inside her again as
he pressed a kiss to her lips. He took in her image, the way her eyes fluttered open and her hands linked over his shoulders, pulling him to her. She ran her hands over his back, feeling him, touching him in the way she did that drove him over the edge. He was so ready for her, to settle inside her again as he had the night before, feeling her come apart around him—but he couldn’t shake this need for something more.
“I want a baby, kids…” he said.
She froze and stiffened beneath him, then somehow pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him back. She slid from under him and sat up in bed, pulling at the sheet until it was up and over her breasts, leaving him with nothing. Her expression wasn’t even the least bit amused.
She brushed her hand over her hair, pushing it back, now wide awake. “Did you just say you wanted kids, a baby, with me?”
He was lying on his side, naked and cooling off, the mood gone. He hung his head for a second, because she didn’t have to say anything else for him to know she wasn’t on the same page.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s time, Karen. I want to build our family. I want kids—and seriously, who else would I have kids with?” He went to pull the sheet from her, but she was shaking her head as she scooted back away from him to the other side of the bed.
“And you just…what, suddenly want to get me pregnant? Right, I guess I should have figured that out last night, but in my haste, as I felt the weight of everything my mom’s been through being lifted from me, I kind of got lost in the moment with you. I love you, Jack, but I’m not ready for kids. I love working, being a lawyer, being selfish, and…” She stopped talking and pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
He could see how much she was thinking—no, overthinking. So he climbed from bed and walked naked around it to the en suite, then stepped into the walk-in shower and turned it on. He let the hot spray settle over him as he pressed his hands to the shower wall and just let the water run down his back. When he felt a hand there, he glanced over his shoulder and took in Karen, who had joined him.
“So is that how we have a conversation?” she said. “You get up and leave?”
He just stared for a second, at a loss of what to say. “What conversation? I said I wanted kids, a baby, and you said no. I think the conversation is over.”
She reached for a bar of soap. He could hear the phone ringing in the background, but he wasn’t too inclined to race out of the shower for it. His wife soaped her hands and ran them over his chest. He loved the feel of her touch, and something in her blue eyes seemed to hint at mischief.
“No, the conversation’s not over,” she said. “And that’s not what I said. You have to give me a second, Jack, to get my head around this and discuss it. You know, the talking thing.”
Right, that thing she did when she talked and talked about something and he heard only half of it. She could cut out two thirds of what she was saying and get to the point and save an incredible amount of time.
“So you want to discuss having children? Is that what you’re saying?” He let out a laugh that bordered on frustration as she touched him teasingly, and he leaned his head back and shut his eyes.
“I want to hear why you want them and why you suddenly feel the need to have them now.” She was debating this.
“You want me to give you an argument, as in the reasons why we should have kids now? Oh, I don’t know. I’m ready, we’re not getting younger, and…”
“So now I’m getting too old?” She pulled her hands back, and for a second, he wondered whether he was walking into a trap.
“No, Karen, you’re not too old, but we’re not twenty anymore. We have a law practice now, so why does having a baby mean you can’t be a lawyer? Take a little time off after the baby, but you can still work. I’m not expecting you to be and do everything.” He took the soap from her and started running it over her body, without a clue what she was thinking.
“So you wouldn’t expect me to suddenly stay home and take up baking and cooking and raising your kids?”
“Good God, no.”
She turned around, and he took in the mischief in her blue eyes.
He shrugged. “You can’t cook, anyway.”
She made a face and poked him.
He heard knocking at the door, and then the phone started ringing again.
“Someone is persistent,” he said, then rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and running it over his hair and body quickly before wrapping it around his waist. He heard the knocking again.
He could hear Karen still in the shower as the phone went silent, and he strode to the door and pulled it open.
In the hall, Luke was dressed casually in blue jeans and a deep blue T-shirt with a hoodie overtop, his shades nestled into his short, wavy dark hair. “Took you long enough,” he said, letting his gaze travel down to the towel. He strode in without being asked. “Sorry to drag you from your shower.”
Jack gave the door a shove closed. “So was that you calling, as well, or is someone else needing to get a hold of me?”
“Oh, no, that was me. You got coffee on yet?” Luke made his way into the kitchen and over to Karen’s fancy espresso machine.
“No, but make me one over there, since you’ve made yourself at home already.”
He was still getting used to Karen’s family showing up, and he still had trouble with their need to be so involved in one another’s lives.
“So who’s here…?” Karen said as she stepped out of the bedroom, a towel around her hair and her robe pulled on. She stepped over to Jack, sliding her arm around his waist, settling her hand on his towel, which lingered there. “Luke, hey. What’s going on?”
Jack took her in as they waited for Luke to say something. He went to make an espresso but seemed to be having trouble.
“Get out of my kitchen,” Karen said, taking over. “You’re going to wreck my machine.” She filled it with fresh coffee and tamped it down, and Luke moved away and let his gaze settle on Jack.
“I called the phone company this morning and changed Mom’s phone number,” he said. “It’s unlisted now. She got a number of calls last night—threatening ones, you know, calling her a murderer and saying everyone always knew she’d done something, that she should be strapped to a stake and burned alive and she’d better pack up and leave town if she knows what’s good for her.”
Karen’s expression said everything. “I knew it would be bad, but really…?” She gestured vaguely, at a loss, but Jack knew the depth of emotion some people operated from, and he shook his head.
“Good,” he said. “At least that will stop the calls.”
Luke lifted his hand, gesturing to the TV. “You watch the news this morning?”
“No, I was sleeping. Why would I?”
Luke walked over to the TV and turned it on. “Oh, just because the news is having a heyday with this whole thing.” He was flicking through channels and then landed on one of the local stations, with a byline running underneath: Charges dropped in murder case against Iris O’Connell.
“So…” Jack started.
The image flashed to the DA, Tibo Lewis, and beside him was Lonnie, with an “Acting Sheriff” byline under his name. Evidently, a press conference had been called. Jack just stared at the screen.
“Good morning, everyone,” Tibo said. “In light of recent evidence that was just brought to the attention of the DA’s office last night, the state will not be pursuing charges against Iris O’Connell and has dropped all charges against her. Although we can’t comment on the investigation regarding the remains that were discovered, as it is still ongoing, the evidence that was provided has exonerated Mrs. O’Connell.”
Jack took in Karen, who walked over to him. He could hear the reporters calling out questions, but of course, Tibo was leaving them hanging.
Tibo gestured to Lonnie and said, “I understand you all have questions regarding the O’Connells, but right now, I would ask that you respect their privacy. As the investigation is on
going, I will turn this over to the acting sheriff, who will be able to answer some questions.”
Jack crossed his arms over his chest, taking in the TV.
Luke glanced back and then gestured to the press conference. “Oh, just you wait. It gets better.”
Jack wasn’t sure what he meant. He took in the deputy he knew Marcus had problems with, definitely no one he’d have picked for sheriff. There was just something about him he’d never liked.
“Yes, Doreen.” Lonnie gestured to one of the reporters.
“If the murder charge has been dropped against Iris O’Connell, can you tell us if any of the O’Connell children will be implicated in the murder of Raymond O’Connell? Will Marcus O’Connell be reinstated as sheriff anytime soon?”
Jack thought his eyes bugged out, and he heard Karen hiss beside him.
“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation or any suspects we are considering. As far as Marcus O’Connell is concerned, he is currently on leave pending an investigation into his misconduct and breach of authority in the handling of this investigation. Remember, folks, Marcus was not elected to the position of sheriff but only fell into it when Sheriff Osbert Berry unexpectedly retired.”
“What an asshole,” Karen said rather calmly.
The news flashed back to the anchors, who brought up an image of the family walking out of the courtroom the day before. “The DA’s decision today to drop all charges in this case, in my experience, bothers me,” said one of the anchors. “Here’s a replay of the family leaving the courthouse yesterday. If you look at their body language, the emotionless stare is quite unusual and only confirms that the family is aware of who killed Raymond O’Connell. Maybe the wrong family member was charged in the murder, but looking at this family, who also appear arrogant and unremorseful—”
Jack ripped the remote from Luke’s hand and turned off the TV, then tossed the remote down on the counter. “So the court of opinion is working overtime. Please, for everyone’s sake, keep the news off. Look, you know how this works. We’ll go out tonight, everyone, to a restaurant, all of us. Let the town get a look at us, get the gossip and stuff out of their system. As far as Lonnie, we know he has an ax to grind with Marcus. I’ll have to call Marcus and Tibo, because after that little stunt, Lonnie may have just screwed any chance of your brother being re-elected.”
#7-9--The O’Connells Page 26
