Cold Waters (Normal, Alabama Book 1)

by Debbie Herbert

  “No. I don’t want the shadow of suspicion to fall on you again. Just do it. I’ll explain everything later.”

  “But Mom, I don’t believe—”

  “Do it.” She practically shoved me in my car. “We’ll meet in the morning. I promise.”

  I regarded her suspiciously. “What about you? Where are you going?”

  “My car’s hidden nearby. Go on now!”

  I obeyed, not because I entirely trusted Boone or Mom but out of sheer fear. I didn’t want to face the cops or have people connecting me to another death. I tried not to think about my sister or Ainsley. But as the miles slipped past, I replayed the fall over and over in my mind. Now that my memory had returned, it refused to be silenced any longer.

  This was what I’d wanted, right? The purpose behind years of endless therapy sessions that had mined the dark recesses of my mind for the answer to this question: What happened the night Ainsley died?

  Now I knew, and I didn’t like the answer. I’d pushed Ainsley off the cliff, and the river had claimed her.

  And I’d left her there.

  For years, the twin demons of guilt and fear had suppressed the memory of what I’d done. They were the monsters under the bed, the beasts in the basement, the spooks in the attic. Occasionally, I’d recall that push, but the old memory was like a ghost, and I could only catch brief glimpses of it in my peripheral vision. I’d known it was bad, but you couldn’t touch a ghost, only feel a whisper of air tickle the fine hairs of your neck and arms. I couldn’t smell it, only a faint whiff of an unnamable scent. I couldn’t taste it, either, only the dry, sticky roof of my mouth after the memory had floated away once more.

  I had pushed Ainsley off the cliff.

  I was that monster.

  But I hadn’t done it on purpose either. There was at least that truth. Somehow, I’d have to move on from all this, to find comfort and strength and beauty in whatever the future held. And I’d have to do it alone. I couldn’t count on anyone else; they had all let me down in both big and subtle ways.

  I pulled myself together and walked into the store, hoping that Mom’s instruction to do so was part of a well-constructed plan. I assumed a mask of indifference as I randomly picked up a pack of gum and a bag of chips, giving a small nod to several shoppers. Dutifully, I returned to my car and waited. I didn’t have to tarry long.

  A row of blue lights strobed the twilight, streaking past me. I straightened my shoulders and pulled onto the road, heading home.

  Chapter 42

  VIOLET

  Present day

  I half expected Mom not to show up today. If last night hadn’t been goodbye, this morning surely would be. I’d called in sick today, and Cora had been very understanding, insisting that I take the rest of the week off work. News had quickly spread about Delaney’s accident. Willie had agreed to sit with Dad this morning when I’d explained I needed to run errands, and so I was free.

  I arrived for our meeting—at a Huntsville truck stop thirty miles away—feeling bruised and exhausted.

  The borrowed Ford pickup truck was already at the far end of the parking lot when I arrived, dark blue in color with the license plate ALA934589. I pulled in alongside it and then slipped through its unlocked passenger door.

  “Morning, hon. Coffee?” She pointed at the extra cup in the console and took a sip of her own. “One cream and two sugars.”

  I paused, the Styrofoam cup poised halfway to my lips. “How did you know what I like?”

  “I’ve been keeping tabs.” Mom pulled off her dark sunglasses but kept a baseball cap pulled low on her forehead.

  “Through Boone?” I guessed.

  “Among others.”

  “Like who?”

  “Mostly Luanne Smithers.”

  I flinched as though slapped. “Should have known it. One of the few kind people I trusted over the years, and she was only nice because you paid her to provide updates on me.”

  “That’s not true. Well, only for the first month. After that, Luanne refused to accept any more money, saying that she liked you. She and Boone even lobbied to make sure you went to the nearest halfway house as soon as an opening could be arranged once you were eligible.”

  I closed my eyes and let the sudden bitterness at the news wash out of my heart. At least my biological father had actually tried to help me, even if I hadn’t been aware of it at the time. And what would I have done without Luanne and . . . “Hey, what about Seth Goodson? Was he on your payroll?”

  “Nope.” Mom eyed me curiously. “At first, I wasn’t sure men were your thing.” Her voice rose at the end of the sentence, turning it into a question. “You know, after your obsession with Ainsley.”

  I carefully set my coffee back in the console cup holder. It had taken me a while, but I’d finally realized Ainsley had most likely been a girlhood experiment and one that had accidentally ended in disaster. My attraction to her had been real, though I’d never since felt the same pull toward another female. But that was none of Mom’s business.

  “You don’t have the right to ask me about my sexuality. You lost that right years ago when you let me believe you were dead.”

  “So we’re back to that. Not that I blame you, of course.”

  “It will always come back to that. Your desertion will always be between us.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The sadness in her voice and eyes got to me for a second, but I hardened my heart. Bottom line: Mom cared more about her money and herself than she did me. Maybe one day we could form a relationship of sorts, but not now. Not for a long time.

  “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I left Normal because I wanted to provide a safe, secure haven for that day you’d be able to live in the real world again. A place far from here, away from dangerous suspicion. A place where I could protect you.”

  “But believing you were dead . . .” I had to catch my breath a moment before continuing. I’d suffered so much at the news. Had felt so alone for so long. I cleared my throat and said simply, “It was too high a price to pay.”

  She didn’t speak for several long, painful moments. “I see that now. Maybe I should have stayed and fought it out with Parker. Maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was depressed and scared. Out of my mind with grief.”

  If anyone understood what that felt like, it was me. I’d lived through plenty of the same emotions.

  Mom gripped the steering wheel with pale, bony hands. “The least I can do for you now is tell you the truth about that night,” she said.

  “I know what happened. My memory returned last night when Delaney fell. I pushed Ainsley from the cliff. I’m the reason she’s dead.”

  “That’s not the whole story.”

  The back of my neck prickled. “What do you mean?”

  “Delaney killed her. She admitted as much last night on the balcony. She’d followed you down to the river that night. Witnessed the two of you arguing and then Ainsley’s fall. After you ran off into the woods, Delaney searched for Ainsley. Once she found her, she killed her—probably bashed her head in with a rock—and stole her jewelry.”

  My gut clenched, and my eyes filled with tears. “Why?”

  “I believe Delaney was a true sociopath, a narcissist at the very least. She didn’t care about anyone but herself. My theory? She saw an opportunity to get you in trouble, to punish us for not making her the center of our world like Parker did.”

  Poor Ainsley. I hoped she hadn’t been conscious when Delaney had lifted the rock to kill her. I closed my eyes and leaned back in the seat.

  “Hadn’t you ever wondered how she got Ainsley’s jewelry?”

  “Delaney told me that I’d confessed to the murder and had the jewelry on me when I returned home.”

  “Such an evil woman,” Mom muttered.

  Truthfully, I couldn’t argue with Mom’s pronouncement, not after the horrible things Delaney had done trying to convince me I was crazy.

  “Thanks for telling me th
e truth, Mom.” I hadn’t even thought about the jewelry last night. I’d been drained after the police visit and had taken my anxiety pills and gone to bed. But eventually I’d have wondered about the bracelet and necklace. “I feel bad about the guy they arrested, though. Detective Kimbrel must have set him up.”

  Mom snorted. “Don’t waste a moment of guilt and sympathy on that monster. He’s got a long rap sheet of child molestation. And he was there in the woods that night. Watching the two of you. The man’s back in jail, which is no less than he deserves.”

  I shuddered, remembering the unexplained noises in the woods. “We did hear something. I’d wondered if it was Irma, searching for her long-dead lover.”

  A fleeting smile chased across her features. “You always were a sucker for a good ghost tale.”

  We didn’t speak for several long moments.

  “How’s Parker holding up this morning?” she finally asked. “Couldn’t help but feel sorry for him last night.”

  Dad had claimed responsibility for the accident, saying he’d been doing repair work on the deck and had neglected to tell Delaney of the danger. Supposedly, she’d gone on the deck to feed the crows for me. As if Delaney would have done such a thing. But the police had bought the story. What else could they prove? I shifted in my seat, remembering my conversation with Dad. It had been awkward, the truth about my parentage lying between us unspoken. And we’d both been laden with guilt and sorrow over lost lives. Mainly, we’d spoken of how we were going to explain last night’s events.

  “Dad feels guilty about stumbling into her,” I told Mom. “But he also knew Delaney had been drugging him with her teas and overmedicating him with prescription pills. Whenever possible, he’d dump out the tea and spit out the medicine behind her back. It probably prolonged his life.”

  “So he’ll survive the little bit of guilt,” Mom commented dryly. “Boone worked out an arrangement with him. The price of his silence about my fake death is for me to provide him a modest allowance for whatever time he has left.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  She shot me a warning glance. “Watch out for Parker. I wonder just how much he really is suffering from dementia. The man was pretty damn sharp in his negotiations with Boone.”

  Paranoid. Mom had always believed the worst about him. Not that Dad didn’t deserve much of her hatred. I let her warning go without comment.

  The silence weighed on us again. I really had nothing more to say to my mother. I opened the door a crack.

  “Wait.” Her hand was on my forearm. “Remember Portugal? I’d love for you to come live with me. We can be a family again.”

  I stared into her eyes—the same dark-blue hue of my own—and shook my head. “No. It’s too late.”

  “I know you feel that way now, but darling, please, think about it, okay? Give it time. At least come to visit once in a while?”

  I shrugged from her grasp and stepped onto the parking lot asphalt. I’d have made a clean exit, too, if I hadn’t heard her sniffle. No matter what, she was still my mom. There was no escaping that fact. And I knew what it was like to live without hope.

  I leaned back into the truck and gave her a brief, fierce hug. “Maybe one day, Mom. Just maybe.”

  Chapter 43

  BOONE

  Present day

  At last, the official incident report was finished. I’d no sooner attached it in an email to my supervisor than, as I expected, Dan called me into his office. Josh scowled as I passed him by. The little twerp would never forgive me for stealing the glory of Dinky’s arrest.

  Dan regarded me, unsmiling. “Shut the door and take a seat.”

  I obeyed without comment. I’d expected this as well.

  Dan slowly straightened in his chair, hitting the red record button on a large 1970s vintage tape recorder. He folded his hands and leaned forward, eyeing me gravely. “Mighty convenient that you happened to be at the Henderson house when Delaney Henderson accidentally fell to her death.”

  Had he just stressed the word accidentally, or had I gone paranoid? “Like I explained yesterday, I had an anonymous call to check suspected elder abuse taking place with Parker Henderson. It’s all in the report I just emailed you.”

  “If Henderson’s daughter had been abusing him, maybe that was no accident. Could be he wanted her dead.”

  “You’ve seen the man. He’s physically weak and mentally impaired.” I needed to convince Dan that Delaney’s fall had been accidental. “Parker Henderson doesn’t have the strength to have thrown his grown daughter from a balcony, or the wits to set a trap for her.”

  “So now you consider yourself a doctor too?”

  “Hardly. It’s common sense. You have his statement.”

  Dan drummed his fingers on his desk, a sign that he was perturbed. I’d witnessed it many times over the course of my career. I didn’t speak, preferring to wait him out and let him say his piece.

  “What is it with you and the Hendersons? Every time there’s a tragedy involving them, there you are, hovering in the background.”

  “Two events over the span of ten-plus years with a dysfunctional family. I hardly call that surprising.”

  “Three events,” Dan insisted. “You were also the investigator in the Hyacinth Henderson death.”

  Perspiration collected on my palms and forehead. “Are you kidding me? Get real,” I bluffed with a bravado I was far from feeling. “I was the only investigator in the county at the time. Now you’re suggesting that my old car-accident report is suspicious?”

  “Maybe I am.”

  He eyed me with open mistrust, staring me down. I didn’t look away. That old police tactic of drawing out a confession through prolonged silence wasn’t going to work on me. If you had something to hide—and I had plenty of secrets—talking was lethal.

  Dan was the first to speak. “And you were wrong about Gerald Stedmyer’s guilt in the Dalfred case. Even after Josh believed him guilty and asked you to pursue that lead further, you refused to do so. It took another anonymous call about searching the man’s place for Ainsley Dalfred’s jewelry before we could make an arrest. Very strange.”

  I shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Again with the drumming fingers on his desk. “Andy Bushnell mentioned to me that Delaney recently came to see you while Josh and I weren’t in the office. What was that all about?”

  Now that I hadn’t expected. Still, I was prepared.

  “Miss Henderson claimed someone was stalking her, but she couldn’t prove it. I advised her to be careful.”

  “And yet you never thought to mention any of this to me when the woman accidentally dies a short time later?”

  Oh yeah, he’d definitely emphasized accidentally. My boss had a boatload of doubts.

  “My apologies, sir.”

  “This all doesn’t add up. Why don’t you tell me what’s really been going on?”

  “If you’re questioning my official report, perhaps I should hire an attorney before answering any further questions.”

  Dan’s pale face mottled red with anger. He flicked off the record switch. “After all these years of working together, this is what it comes down to between us? Recorded conversations and legal threats?”

  “The tape recording was your doing. And my hiring an attorney isn’t a legal threat. We’re talking protecting my basic civil rights here if you’re suggesting I’ve falsified reports.”

  “I’m suggesting a lot more than falsified reports.” His voice rose, loud enough that I wondered if employees on the first floor could hear him. He stood up from his chair and jabbed his index finger at me. “I don’t trust you. Not a damn bit. I might not be able to prove you’ve done anything improper, but everything you’ve done connected with the Henderson and Dalfred cases is mighty questionable. You’re unfit for this office.”

  “That’s unfortunate you feel that way,” I said with a poker face of calm. “I don’t plan on leaving. You and your nephew can’t make me either. Not until I
’m good and ready.”

  “I want you out of here. Effective immediately.” He sat back down abruptly and pressed record on the tape recorder again. “Sign this resignation I’ve prepared. It’s a fairly generous retirement incentive.”

  He shoved paperwork at me, and I barely restrained myself from giving a low whistle of surprise as I read the figures. The incentive was generous. Very generous. Seemed I was “good and ready” to leave after all.

  I rose to my feet and waved the papers in my hand. “The terms appear to meet with my approval. As soon as my attorney reviews it, I’ll sign. I’ll get back to you within the week. You and Josh just have to wait a little longer, and you can have this damn place to yourselves.”

  Dan’s mouth twisted. “You’ve turned into a real bastard, Kimbrel. Take leave without pay until you sign those papers. And don’t wait too long, or I’ll have the offer nulled and voided.”

  “Thank you for your kind offer, sir. And by the way, you might want to delete your final words. The upstanding citizens at your civic groups and church might be surprised at your language. Bastard.”

  Dan came out from around his desk with surprising speed and grabbed the collar of my shirt. “Don’t get too cocky there, Boone. Get those papers back in one week or else.”

  I pushed him away from me. “Or else what?”

  “I’ll subpoena to have Hyacinth Henderson’s ashes collected. If there are large enough bone or teeth fragments, we can run a DNA test.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. Had the Hendersons ever scattered her ashes as Hyacinth had requested in her will? I’d never thought to check on that loose end.

  Dan’s lips curled knowingly.

  “You have no grounds to get a subpoena.”

  “You really want to bet your life on that? The judge happens to be a good friend.”

  Take the money and run. I gave Dan a grim nod and looked past him to the wall of fame behind his desk, plastered with various written commendations from politicians stretching all the way up to the Alabama governor’s office. My boss held a full house of aces and kings, but I played my one good card.