Ali tried to keep me moving forward, but I resisted and turned toward the receptionist.
“We keep these for guests, just in case,” the girl said.
I grabbed the umbrella with a gracious, “Thank you,” but couldn’t accept the coat with my other hand held fast at Ali’s side.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Ali pulled me along into the front vestibule designed to keep the weather out. “What did I just say?” she warned.
I yanked back, my teeth clenched tight. “It would be more obvious something was wrong if I hadn’t accepted her offer. Don’t you think?”
Ali narrowed her eyes at me, but didn’t reply. She snatched the umbrella away and opened it, then handed it back before pulling the hood up on her lightweight jacket and hauling me through the front doors.
I whooped in shock when a sheet of cold, hard rain slapped me from the side. “Oh my God, this is insane to be out here in this storm!”
“What? Your love isn’t worth a little discomfort?” she snickered and dragged me along through the valet roundabout and toward the empty parking lot for Snoqualmie Falls.
I struggled to keep hold of the umbrella with one hand as the wind whipped it around and threatened to turn it inside-out. “I thought you didn’t want to attract undue attention. No one is crazy enough to go to the falls in weather like this. This is stupid!”
Before I could even react, Ali yanked me close and wrapped her cold fingers around my throat. With one hand clinging to the wobbly umbrella and the other clawing at the girl’s grip, I stared into Ali’s eyes, where a great deal of hate festered. She gave me a single shake as her fingers tightened.
“Don’t. You. Ever…call me stupid, you callous, shallow whore,” she fumed with indescribable loathing. She held my gaze for an unbearable moment, then slowly eased her grip.
I was horrified by what I saw staring into this young woman’s eyes.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Who are you?”
Ali sneered at me. “I am your darkest secret, the reaper for a life cruelly discarded, deemed worthless, unwanted, and unworthy.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
“Unfortunately for you, you’re about to find out.” With that, Ali tore the umbrella from my hand and let the wind take it away.
I howled as the gusts drove freezing walls of rain at my face, soaking my thin sweater in an instant. With no protection overhead, I could barely see through the downpour, and I stumbled on broken tree branches that skittered across the parking lot. The rainwater had little time to drain and pooled into wide puddles, stretching across the narrow walkway that led to the observation decks overlooking the falls. Ali was singled-minded, seemingly oblivious to the wicked weather howling like a banshee around us.
As we got closer to the deck, I heard the falls thundering like a stampeding herd of crazed buffalo, and I balked, terrified at what waited for me on that deck. Ali pulled hard and shouted something at me, but whatever she said was lost as a gust of wind surged from the north and forced us off the path and into the manicured landscaping, where I scrambled to break free. But Ali held tight and shouted in my ear.
“If you want to see your husband dead, just try that one more time,” she warned, then climbed to her feet, hauling me up with her.
Her head turned from side to side, like she was searching for something…or someone. She pulled me along the last twenty feet or so, where the path opened up to the concrete observation deck. The earth shuddered beneath our feet from the force of the immense waterfall before us. The river pounded furiously over the cliff, the mist rising so high and thick, only the top of the falls were even visible, but I remembered how deep that canyon dropped below the deck, and the jagged rocks that jutted out beneath the railing before giving way to the angry, rushing river below. And my heart thrashed against my ribs in fear.
Ali and I both turned at the same moment when we heard a voice calling out through the storm.
“Frankie!” she shouted, her face lifting in relief. But only momentarily. “Holy shit! What happened?” she cried out once she saw the roadmap of cuts and bruises crisscrossing his face. “Where’s Sean?”
“Babe—”
“Oh my God. He got away. You let him get away,” Ali said, her voice eerily calm.
“I didn’t let him. He broke free and beat me with the damn chair.”
“And how the fuck did that happened when he was tied to it?” she asked, then immediately raised a hand. “You know what? I don’t give a shit. Just find him and bring him back here. Now.”
“No way. It’s been too long. We gotta get rid of her,” he said, nodding at me, “before Bennett calls the cops, if he hasn’t already.”
Ali shook her head. “No. He won’t call the police. He’s too afraid they’ll arrest him.”
I realized she was probably right, that help from the authorities was most likely a longshot. But I was relieved to hear that Sean was at least free. Now it was my turn to break away. With a deep breath, I gathered my nerve and struck at Ali’s hand gripping me by my sweater. She lost hold, and I turned to run, but Frankie, even in his battered condition, reacted swiftly and banded his meaty arm around my neck and shoulder.
“Alexandra, grab her goddamn arm!” he commanded.
I was barely aware when she complied. I was too shocked.
“Alexandra?” I asked. “Alexandra Morra?”
Her brow lifted in surprise. “So, Sean-boy told you after all, huh?”
“What’re you talking about? Told me what?”
“That he knows me. That he figured it all out, that his so-called friend, Trinitee Marsh, wasn’t dead after all.”
“And how would he know that?” I asked.
Alexandra laughed then calmed and focused on me, her eyes taunting. “Because I am Trinitee Marsh, or I was, for the last five years anyway.”
My mouth gaped open in utter shock. Was this what Sean had been keeping from me? How long had he known? Though she looked different, he must’ve recognized her from that photograph with Aurelia. He obviously knew her that well. I just wondered what else he knew and hadn’t told me.
“Ah, I see the doubt in your eyes,” Alexandra shouted over the buffeting wind. “Well, if that didn’t blow your mind, this sure will. Because, you see, Sean knew, long before I became Trinitee Marsh, and even before I was adopted as Alexandra Morra, that my name…was Ivy. Yes, that’s right. I am your throwaway daughter, you filthy piece of shit!” she seethed. Then to Frankie, she said, “Take her to the rail.”
Frankie smirked as he pulled me from her grasp and led me closer to the edge of the observation deck. I was too overwhelmed to even fight. I just stared at the girl. Trinitee. Alexandra.
Ivy…
“That’s impossible!” I howled. “My Ivy is dead!”
Yet, no matter how absurd, I could see what was only hinted at earlier when I first laid eyes on her, that sense of familiarity. It was the trace of Jacob I saw. Especially in the shape of her mouth. But that simply could not be. This girl was trying to pull something over on me. Confuse me, and she was doing a good job of it.
“Are you sure this is how you wanna do it, Alex?” Frankie asked.
She shrugged. “No, but if I can’t pin Sean’s murder on her and see her rot in prison for the rest of her life, then she’ll have to forfeit it completely for the one she threw away.”
I shook my head. “Why are you doing this? It’s cruel! Ivy is dead! I’m telling you, she’s dead!”
“I think it’s an appropriate punishment, Alex,” Frankie agreed, ignoring me completely.
Ali…Alexandra…Trinitee… Whoever she was, she shook her head and pegged her gaze on me. “I wanted you to suffer more. That’s what you deserve, for what you did to me. That’s how much I hate you.”
“But…why? What have I ever done to you?”
Suddenly, out of the driving rain and wind, Sean appeared, his face beaten and battered, nearly as bad as
Frankie. I wanted to run to him and soothe the pain he must feel. But I couldn’t. I was locked under Frankie’s control.
Sean was inexplicably calm, his hand out as he slowly approached the girl. “Please, Trin, I know how hurt and betrayed you must feel, but…what you believe, it’s simply not true. Knowing what I know now, I suspect Declan Ross lured Eden away from home with the promise of a honeymoon, then drugged her into early labor. Took her to a place where he’d already set everything up, a doctor and nurses he paid off to deliver her child, who drugged her again until she was practically unconscious, then stole her child.”
“No! That’s not true!” the girl cried out.
“Declan lied to Eden, told her the baby had died. The next day, she woke up in a different facility, a real hospital, where they confirmed what that doctor’s medical report already stated.”
She put her hands over her ears. “No, no, no, no, no! Stop lying!”
“Eden was devastated,” Sean continued. “She visited Ivy’s grave often, even took pictures of her son, Ian, sitting next to the grave stone, to mark the years as they went by. I’ve seen the photos, Trin. I don’t know how you ended up in a Mexican orphanage, but I’m reasonably sure Declan arranged that, so you’d never be found, and Eden would never discover his treachery.” Then, to me, Sean said, “I’m so sorry, Eden. I should’ve told you everything I knew, or at least suspected, but I just wasn’t sure, and I could hardly believe Trin was responsible for everything.”
I couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing. I turned my eyes to the girl and sobbed, “Ivy?”
She was crying hysterically, shaking her head, unwilling to believe any of it.
“Trin, listen to me,” Sean said, just loud enough to be heard. “You know how deceitful Declan Ross was. You know he was capable of doing all that. He wanted Eden, and he wanted his trust money, without being saddled with Jacob Mahoney’s child.”
“Shut up!” she screamed.
“You were the one who told me he’d arranged for Jacob to be killed, all so he could get his hands on Eden and his money. He did this, Trin. Not Eden.”
Time seemed to stop as reality shattered my heart into a million little pieces. I had no idea how to process what I’d just heard. I just sucked in a shocked breath and cried, “Oh my God!”
“It doesn’t matter either way!” Frankie interrupted. “Alex, we’ve killed three people already, both of us—”
“You’re the one who did the killing, asshole!” Sean argued.
“We have to get rid of these two, Alex,” Frankie continued, undeterred. “Or we’ll be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.”
I shelved my disgust at learning of Declan’s vicious misdeeds and focused instead on the girl—my daughter! I shook my head and breathed, “Ivy…” as the rain and wind eerily calmed, and sirens blared close by.
“Listen to me, Trin,” Sean begged. “Frankie’s manipulating you. He has been since you were a child! You won’t have to look over your shoulder. Eden and I, we’ll talk to the police, tell them what happened, what Declan did to both of you. I can help you. I swear. Eden and I can both help you!”
“They can’t help you, Alexandra, and even if they could, that won’t do me any good, and I won’t go to prison for your crimes,” Frankie swore and dragged me right to the rail at the edge of the rumbling deck.
“My crimes?” Ivy challenged with wide eyes then closed the distance between them. “You killed your parents first then called it a home robbery. You were the one who hired that man to find out what had happened to me. You were the one who put the idea in my head. You told me I should get back at them. You started all this, you sonofabitch! You fabricated everything!”
She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her to keep Frankie from hurling me over the railing. But he wrenched against my neck and tried to twist me away from her. I screamed out in terror, afraid of being thrown over the cliff, but also in pain as my shoulder dislocated with a loud pop. Ivy let go and hopped back when she saw the pain on my face.
Sean thrust his hands out. “No! Stop!”
Frankie shifted my weight to the side closest to the rail, preparing to toss me over.
I clawed at him with my one good hand as both Sean and Ivy rushed us. In a single moment, Sean slammed into Frankie, breaking his hold on me and, with his momentum, tipped him backward over the railing, where he fell headfirst into the deep canyon. Ivy crashed into me when Frankie let go, tripping over me as I fell forward, and tumbling over the rail, as well. Pure instinct propelled me after her, and I caught Ivy by the wrist and screamed in agony as I bent in two over the railing, trying with all my strength to hold on. But she was pulling me over with her. My feet lifted off the ground as a familiar voice called my name.
“Sean! Please! Help!” I bellowed over the storm as it ticked up yet again.
He was instantly at my side, holding me back and leaning over the railing with me. He grabbed for Ivy’s free hand as she dangled precariously, swinging about in the pounding rain and wind.
“Trin, grab hold!” he yelled.
“I can’t hold her, Sean! She’s slipping. She’s slipping!”
Ivy was crying and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, to both of you, for everything. Please forgive me, especially for Haley and Robbie,” she begged, looking straight at Sean.
“No! Ivy!” I cried. “I just found you! Hold on, please! Don’t give up! Don’t you dare give up!”
But, as an army of police converged on the scene, Ivy said to Sean, “You keep protecting her.”
Then, instead of trying to grab Sean’s outstretched hand, she pried my wet fingers loose and fell silently into the mist below.
With the storm still raging, and two bodies to retrieve from the rocks below, the local Eastside Fire Department set up a command hub, with a portable hardtop canopy two ambulances had backed up under. It shook and rattled as the wind continued to blow. Ropes and sandbags both held the cover down and kept the rain runoff from flooding the area. It was loud outside, but at least we were out of the blustery rain. One EMT secured my shoulder in a brace. Another dabbed at the deep gash along Sean’s forehead.
We sat along the back edge of one of the emergency transports, just outside its open doors. Opposite us, a police squad car had backed in so the trunk was protected under the canopy. Detective Reed stood next to it, his hands on his hips and censure on his face.
“I’ve never seen or heard two more foolish people than you clowns,” he admonished.
“Maybe if you’d believed us, we wouldn’t have been put in such a dangerous position,” I threw back.
“Or maybe, if you two chuckleheads had been more forthright about all the information you were privy to, I could’ve looked more deeply into Ms. Marsh and her lack of history, which would’ve taken this investigation down an entirely different path,” Reed suggested.
He shook his head and leaned back against the trunk of the squad car with his arms crossed over his chest. Sean and I exchanged nervous glances.
“Once you’re cleared by the hospital, I’m going to need each of you to come in—separately, mind you—and give full statements. And don’t think there won’t be at least obstruction charges levied on you,” Reed said to both of us. “But especially you, Mr. Bennett. You could’ve saved us all a lot of time and trouble, not to mention heartache, had you shared your suspicions.”
Sean had the good grace to bow his head without the slightest retort, though I knew he wanted to by the tic working in his jaw.
“How did you even find us?” I asked Detective Reed.
“Well now, Mrs. Ro—I mean, Bennett, it’s called detective work, and it’s what I do. In this case, when you answered my last call, we managed to triangulate your general location by determining which cell towers your signal pinged off of, placing you somewhere between Carnation, Preston, and North Bend, no small area. But, taking into consideration the likelihood you had, in fact, married Mr. Bennett, and recalling that photograp
h you’d taken at the falls a few weeks back, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to figure you’d returned here and were probably staying at The Salish Lodge.”
My brow rose high in respect. “Wow. You are good, Detective Reed.”
He rolled his head from side to side, adding, “Well, it didn’t hurt that Mr. Bennett called my cell and left the line open as you all argued back and forth about who killed whom and other such nonsense.”
My eyes grew wide. “So you heard everything then? You know what Declan did, and that awful young man, Frankie?”
Reed nodded. “Well, the storm did get in the way, but yes, ma’am, more or less. However, that does not absolve either of you of anything, not until we get your statements and investigate Ms. Marsh…or whoever she is…and her companion.”
“Alexandra Morro,” Sean offered. “Apparently that’s Trinitee’s legal name. And her adoptive cousin, Frankie Morro. I’m sure you’ll easily confirm both.”
Reed’s brow scrunched together. “Sal Morro’s kid?”
Sean shrugged. “I don’t know. I just remember Trin talking about him once when she had a little too much to drink. Why? Who’s Sal Morro?”
“Local crime family,” Reed explained. “He and his wife were killed in a sloppy home invasion a few years back, but I always thought it was a hit, not that it was my case. It was just a gut feeling. Guess I wasn’t too far off base if his kid took him out.”
Sean grinned. “Looks like you’ll be solving—what—five murder cases? You can thank us with a wedding gift, Detective.”
Reed pointed a finger at him. “Don’t be so cocky. He may have admitted it, but your boy never named names. We’ll still need to tie him to each case, each victim.”
Sean’s jaw dropped a little.
With a roll of his eyes, Reed pushed away from the car. “Don’t look so worried. You and the misses are free to go…for now. Just be sure you drop by the precinct tomorrow. Until then…enjoy your honeymoon.” He held out his hand out.
Stirred Page 34
