by BJ Bourg
I tried to remind myself what Hazel had mentioned earlier about it being many years ago and my mom being a different person now. “So, why did Garvan eventually leave my mom? If he loved her so much that he’d let her beat on him, why would he leave? What could be worse than getting beat on?”
“What could be worse than getting beat on is watching someone you love getting beat.” She scowled. “Garvan left your mom because she hit the one person he loved as much as he loved her—and that was Crystal.”
CHAPTER 32
A million thoughts swirled around in my head, and none of them had anything to do with the murder case I was investigating. My mom had spanked me as a kid, but I always deserved it and she never hit me in anger—that I could remember. Knowing what I knew about her, I found it hard to believe this story about Garvan leaving her for beating on Crystal.
I didn’t know how I felt about this revelation. I also didn’t know how I felt about my mom. I loved her, but if this information were true, I’d be very disappointed in her. What would cause her to beat a young child—her own daughter? What if she was lying about Garvan being my dad? Apparently, she had told more than a couple lies, so it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibilities. And what kind of person was she back in her earlier days? What other skeletons were hiding in her closet?
As I turned onto the interstate to leave the city and head back to Mechant Loup, I remembered what Hazel Montana had said about my mom not being the same person today as she was when she was a young girl. I was smart enough to know everyone makes mistakes from time to time. Hell, I’d certainly made more than my share. By comparison, my mother was an angel. At least she’d never killed anyone in cold blood. Although those men deserved it and I was cleared of any legal wrongdoing, it was still morally wrong of me.
I once again found myself wishing I could return to that moment in time and make a better decision. How different would things have been had I spared their lives? It would’ve taken at least a year—probably much longer—for the case to make it to trial, and there would’ve been that slim chance they would’ve gotten off on a technicality…again. I sighed and begrudgingly acknowledged I’d done what was best for the case, the citizens of Mechant Loup, and the world in general.
Upon reaching Central Chateau, I stopped for food and ate while I drove. It took me twenty minutes more to reach the police department in Mechant Loup. Once I parked under the building, I slowly stepped from my Tahoe—taking my trash with me—and lumbered up the stairs. It was almost three o’clock when I finally entered my office and sat wearily in my chair. I was mentally exhausted. I’d gone over the conversation I wanted to have with my mom repeatedly in my head, but it never came out the way I liked and it sounded different each time I rehearsed it.
I could hear Susan’s voice emitting from her office, and it sounded like she was on the phone. I was sure she’d heard me say hello to the dispatcher, and my thoughts were confirmed when her head appeared in my doorway ten minutes later. I was busy catching up on my report and didn’t hear her until she faked a cough.
I looked up and smiled, happy to see her face. She limped toward my desk and sat in the chair across from me.
“Where are your crutches?” I asked. “I thought you were supposed to use them for six weeks?”
“I’m halfway there and it feels fine. Other than it itching and me nearly falling every time I put weight on those crutches, I wouldn’t even remember it was broken.” She rested her elbows on the desk. “So, how’d it go?”
“I haven’t heard back from the examiner yet.” I glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of my computer monitor. “I should be getting a call anytime with some of the results.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
I leaned back in my chair. “I met Hazel Montana and had a long conversation with her. She says Garvan’s not my dad.”
Susan reached across the desk and gently touched my hand. “When you didn’t call, I figured it was bad news.”
“And get this; Hazel says my mom beat Crystal when she was real young and that’s why Garvan took her away.”
Susan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Your mom beat a child?”
“That’s what Hazel says.” After saving the document on my computer, I told Susan how my mom used to spank me when I was a kid. “I was a bad boy,” I explained, “and I deserved to be spanked. Maybe Garvan didn’t agree with parents spanking their children.”
“How would she spank you?” Susan asked. “Did she use her hand?”
“She used a belt mostly.”
Susan chewed on her bottom lip. “Your mom doesn’t strike me as the abusive type.”
“She’s not—I mean, not that I ever knew. Hazel did say people grow up and they change, so perhaps she was different before I was born. Whatever the case, I’ll interrogate her and learn everything I need to know.”
“Clint, don’t you dare interrogate your mother!” Susan’s head was shaking from side to side, causing her ponytail to flop around behind her head. “Especially not just before Thanksgiving. It just wouldn’t be the right time.”
“There’ll never be a right time. I’m going to find out what she knows and I’m going to find out tonight.” My mind made up, I stood and held out my hand to help her to her feet. “If you don’t want to hear the commotion, then you might want to go for a drive around five o’clock—and you might want to take your mom with you.”
Shaking her head, she hobbled out of my office and called over her shoulder, “I guess that’s the last we’ll taste of her cooking.”
I was about to tell her I loved our cooking just fine, but the dispatcher buzzed my phone and told me she was putting the crime lab tech through. I hurried to the phone and answered when it buzzed.
“What’s the verdict?” I asked eagerly.
“What do you want first?” she asked. “Prints, residue, or firearm?”
“Surprise me.”
“Oh, you will be surprised.” There was a pause and I could hear paper shuffling. Finally, she spoke again. “Okay, so, the prints from the table and the cash register all came from the same person, this Jack Billiot character.”
Since Jack said he had been sleeping at the table and he’d already admitted to stealing from the register, this didn’t surprise me. “Next?”
“We don’t have an answer yet on the gunshot residue. I have an analyst working on it, but you know how time consuming it is to process the stubs. I should know something by tomorrow.” There was another slight pause, and then she asked if I was ready for the results on the spent shell casing and bullet.
“No, I’ll call back tomorrow for those results,” I joked, and then quickly said, “Of course I’m ready!”
“The gun you recovered from Chris Jenkins was not a match to the bullet or the shell casing.”
I had already opened my mouth to celebrate when my brain processed what she’d said. “Wait—what? It doesn’t match?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then who the hell killed my victim?”
“That, I’m afraid, is something you’re going to have to figure out yourself,” she said. “But I’m happy to process any other evidence you might collect.”
I mumbled a “thanks” and hung up the phone. Where was I supposed to go from here? I already knew Jack didn’t do it, but now that I had to cross Chris off of my list of suspects, that only left Connie Taylor.
I stared at the report that was still displayed on my computer monitor and one name popped out on the electronic page—Foster Blake. I leaned close to the screen and squinted in thought. Sure, he had an alibi in Joyce Reynolds, but what if they were lying for each other? They were cheaters, so that meant they were already liars. But what would be his motive for wanting his boss dead?
CHAPTER 33
When I got home from work, I stopped to play with Achilles before walking inside. I asked him if I should confront my mom, but all he did was cock his head to the
side and allow his big ears to droop. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”
I made sure his food bowl was full and that he had water and then entered through the back door. My mom was sitting in the living room watching some game show. I looked around. “Where’s Mrs. Wilson?”
“Oh, she and Susan went downtown. Shopping, I think.” She searched my eyes with her own. “Oh, I know that expression. Something’s on your mind.”
I took a seat on the recliner next to her and nodded. “I want to talk about Garvan Montana.”
Her shoulders drooped. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No, you know I’m not. In fact, I’ve done some digging and I located Hazel Montana. She had quite a story to tell.”
“I bet she did. That woman never did like me.” Mom huffed. “She never thought I was good enough for Garvan. Claimed I was holding him back.”
“Well, I’m more interested in knowing if Garvan Montana really is my dad. According to Hazel, Garvan didn’t know he had a son. She said if he did, he would’ve never abandoned me. She said the reason he left you was because…” I paused and studied her face. It was a shade lighter than usual and her skin was tight around the eyes. “She said Garvan left you because you hit Crystal.”
My mom just hung her head. Tears welled up in her eyes and dripped straight down into her lap. She looked tired. I asked her if what Hazel said was true, and she just sat there crying. I moved closer and sat on the arm of the recliner she was in and put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Mom…it was a long time ago. I just want to know what happened and if Garvan’s really my dad. We don’t have to get into the particulars if you don’t want to. I just want to know where I came from.”
“Why does it matter so much now?” she asked, tears spraying from her lips as she spoke. “Why, after all these years, do you care who your father is? Can’t you just accept that Ezekiel is your dad and we can drop this whole thing?”
“That’s kind of obvious, don’t you think? It’s because I just found out about him. Now that I know Ezekiel isn’t my biological father, I want to know who is, and I want to know everything I can about him. And look, I don’t care how bad the truth is—I want it all. The past is the past and you’ve got nothing to be ashamed about and you don’t have to apologize for anything. I’d just like to hear the truth about my past.” After watching her sob for a minute or so, I asked if Garvan was really my dad.
“Yes, he’s your father.”
“Are you sure?”
She sighed. “I’m positive.”
I nodded and moved back to the recliner I’d been sitting in earlier. “Is it true that you used to beat on Garvan?”
“Yeah, it’s true.” She was defeated now. Her shoulders drooped so low that I thought they would touch her knees. “I had some anger issues growing up and it spilled over into our marriage. I know it was wrong of me, but I’d just get so angry that I couldn’t help myself. When I’d calm down I’d feel so horrible about what I’d done. I was sure he would leave me someday, but he never did. He stuck it out for many years until…”
“Until what?”
“I was disciplining Crystal one day and he just freaked out. He started telling me that he might put up with me hitting him but he would never stand idly by while I beat on any child of his.” She wiped her nose on her shoulder. “It was the one time I was afraid of him. He actually threatened to physically throw me out of the house and call the cops to have me arrested. He said he was leaving and I begged him to reconsider. I offered to go to marriage counseling, to get help for my anger, but it was no use.”
“What happened next?”
“A couple of days later he and Crystal were just gone. I came home and found the house empty. Later that same day I was served with a restraining order. The cops told me if I came within so many feet of him or Crystal I’d be arrested.” She shook her head. “Without me knowing, he had been secretly photographing his bruises and cuts from when I’d hit him. He had even hid a recorder in his pocket a few times when I was screaming at him and threatening to kill him and he saved it as evidence. He gave it all to the cops.
“I had to show up in court a few weeks later and he put on quite a show.” She paused and took a quivering breath. “It was so horrible to sit there and listen to someone recounting all the bad things you’d ever done in your life and not being able to defend yourself. My lawyer tried to argue in my favor, but the judge awarded Garvan full custody and told me I’d be arrested if I went anywhere near my baby girl.”
My mom wiped her swollen eyes. “The last time I saw her was when Hazel was walking her out of the courtroom that day.”
“Did you ever get help for your anger?”
She was crying uncontrollably, but she nodded her head and said that she had started seeing a therapist a few months before I was born.
I gave her some time to collect her thoughts and then asked if she and Ezekiel had ever gotten married. I held my breath as she answered, hoping she hadn’t committed bigamy.
“No, we couldn’t get married because I was never formally divorced from Garvan.”
“Why didn’t you just agree to the divorce? Hazel said Garvan’s lawyer tried to find you to serve you with divorce papers, but you hid from them and they were never able to serve you.”
“Is that why they were looking for me?” She seemed surprised.
“That’s what Hazel said.”
“Then why’d he wait so long to file? Those detectives showed up at the house ten years after he left with Crystal. Once he was awarded custody, they moved out of Louisiana and I never heard from him again. He never completed the divorce proceedings and I didn’t have the money to pursue it, so I just let it go.”
I’d heard of people being separated for years and never legally divorcing, but I never dreamed my mother was in that number. I’d always assumed she and Ezekiel were married. She’d always introduced herself as “Nancy Wolf” and people would address her as Ezekiel’s wife and him as Nancy’s husband.
And since she was surprised to learn why the investigators were searching for her, it left me wondering if she was involved in some other dirty business. What else wasn’t she telling me?
“Why’d you hide from those investigators?” I asked. “Serving you with divorce papers would’ve paved the way for you to marry Ezekiel, so I don’t know why you would’ve avoided them.”
“I thought Garvan had found out about you.”
“Found out what about me?”
She hung her head again and I saw her leg start to shake. “You know how I told you Garvan had abandoned us?”
I nodded.
“That’s not entirely true. You see, your father, Garvan…he never even knew about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never told him I was pregnant,” she admitted softly. “I was afraid he’d take you away from me like he took Crystal, so I kept you a secret. When those investigators showed up, I thought they’d found out about you and that Garvan was there to take me to court and get custody over you.”
I pondered this information. “Is that why you gave me Ezekiel’s last name—to conceal my true identity?”
“Not exactly. Even before you were born Ezekiel told me he would give you his last name and raise you as his own. It wasn’t until those investigators started snooping around that I realized it had been a great idea.” She smiled warmly through the tears. “And he’s been such a good father and husband.”
CHAPTER 34
My mom and I were still talking when Susan and her mom arrived home. While my mom’s eyes were still bloodshot and swollen, she wasn’t crying anymore and her voice was stronger. She and Lisa began talking about the wedding, so Susan and I walked out to the back yard, where Achilles was marching around with a dead opossum clasped between his teeth.
“Not again,” Susan said. “If he doesn’t start eating what he kills, we’re going to have to charge him with a wildlife violation.”
I laughed and told her about the conversation I’d had with my mom. “I’m glad I know what went on,” I said, “but I do feel bad for her. It was a painful conversation for her to have and she looks mentally drained.”
“I’m sure she didn’t want the mistakes of her past dredged up, but it’s a good thing she cleared it all up for you.” After a brief silence between us, Susan continued. “Did she admit to beating on Crystal?”
“Yeah, she said she had anger issues, but she saw a psychiatrist and they put her on medication.” I explained how I’d never seen her hit Ezekiel and she never appeared angry when she disciplined me. “I guess it helped.”
Susan only nodded, and I knew she was wondering if we could trust my mom to babysit our future baby. She wasn’t alone. After we spent an hour alone in the back yard, we returned inside and I took my case file to the master bedroom upstairs. Susan and her mom had already eaten in town and my mom was having cereal, so I brought a sandwich with me and ate while Susan took a careful bath.
Once I’d finished eating, I pulled out the packet of crime scene photos I’d printed at the office and spread them across the bed. I retrieved my notepad and scribbled the names of each of my potential suspects, beginning with the most likely to the least likely—Connie Taylor, Brandy Lewis, Foster Blake, Joyce Reynolds, Jack Billiot, and Chris Jenkins.
Foster, Joyce and Jack had moved higher on the list with the revelation about Chris. I was still waiting on the gunshot residue results from Jack and Brandy. If they came back negative, it either meant they’d washed their hands, they had been wearing gloves, or it wasn’t them. Basically, a negative result would leave me with more questions than answers, and I was starting to think I needed to take another crack at Brandy. Maybe I’d missed something in the first interview.
I was jotting down details from each of their statements when Susan came out wearing nothing but her robe. Although her belt was tied in place, the top of the robe was open down the center, exposing her ample cleavage. Although a cast took up the bottom portion of her right leg and she was balancing on crutches, she was still as beautiful and sexy as ever.
