by Nicole Baart
“Coffee?” Henry asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He opened the cupboard above the sink and took down a silver tin. It was a little late in the day for Jess to have caffeine, but she didn’t care. She doubted she’d be able to sleep tonight anyway.
In minutes the kitchen filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and Jess gratefully accepted the mug Henry offered her. He put the sugar dish in the center of the table and then sat down opposite his daughter.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Fine,” Jess said, the word a sigh that left her chest hollow. “It was fine, Dad. I have his wallet.”
“Phone?”
“Forensics wants to look at it before they turn it over, but it’s locked.”
“Don’t you know the password?”
Jess blew the steam off the surface of her coffee. “I used to. It didn’t work, though. He must have changed it. Deputy Mullen is emailing me a questionnaire that might help.”
Henry raised an eyebrow.
“Evan’s first car and pet names and favorite color. Anything that might provide a clue about his password.”
Henry reached for the sugar spoon and measured a small amount. Adding it to his coffee he said, “Maybe it doesn’t matter one way or the other. What could they possibly find?”
A lot. Jess almost told him. She almost opened her mouth and explained about all the things that didn’t add up in her husband’s ostensibly straightforward accident case. But at that moment there was a whoop from the living room and Gabe came careening around the corner.
“Mom!” he shouted, surprised to see her. He hurried over and gave her a squeeze and then launched into an elaborate explanation of the movie and Kylo Ren and the Force. He took a step back and stretched his right arm out toward Jess, twisting his hand back and forth as he stared at her with a ferocity that made her bite back a smile.
“What are you doing?”
“Using the Force,” he said, his gaze so serious he caused a deep line to form between his eyebrows.
“To accomplish what?”
Gabe tilted his head as if it should be obvious. “To make you do whatever I want.”
“She already does whatever you want,” Max said, coming into the kitchen. He was carrying an oversized bowl in his hands with a few handfuls of popcorn bouncing around in the bottom.
Jess chose to ignore his barb and said instead, “I guess you two don’t need supper tonight.”
“Meredith is bringing subs.” Max handed Jess the bowl when she reached for it and turned to lean against the counter.
“What do you mean?” Jess was suddenly ravenous and tossed a few buttery kernels in her mouth. “How do you know that?”
“She texted me. Said she couldn’t get ahold of you.”
Jess felt her nose wrinkle in disbelief. She pulled her purse off the floor and rummaged through it for her phone. Sure enough, there was a string of texts and a couple of missed calls from Meredith. Jess belatedly remembered that she had put it on silent during her conversation with Deputy Mullen because she didn’t want to be disturbed. And her phone wouldn’t beep with alerts while she was driving. Even if it had, Jess had been too preoccupied to worry about much of anything besides her husband’s final days and weeks.
“Sorry,” Jess said, but she wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to. Meredith? Honestly, Jess was starting to feel a little smothered. She loved her friend, but Meredith was being a bit overbearing. Before she could censor herself, Jess muttered, “We really don’t need her to bring supper.”
“That’s what I told her,” Max agreed. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Anna drifted into the kitchen, wearing a blanket around her shoulders and a whimsical half smile. “That was so fun!” she said, tickling Gabe with a tassel from what Jess realized was a caftan, not a blanket. “I think we should have a weekly movie night. Popcorn and candy and pajamas!”
“Yes!” Gabe shouted, batting at the tassel like a kitten. Clearly Anna and her youngest had bonded while Jessica was gone.
“That sounds nice,” Jess said, hoping that she sounded as noncommittal as she felt. “But we should really get going. Thank you so much for having them Dad, Anna.” Jess took one last sip of her cooling coffee and then pushed back her chair.
“Stay,” Anna said. “We can order a pizza or—”
“Meredith is bringing supper,” Jess said. “We really need to get home.”
“Next time.” Anna’s smile didn’t waver, and when Henry stood to put his arm around her, she leaned into him contentedly. “We would love to see you more often. You’re always welcome here.”
Jess wished she could be as enthusiastic about her stepmother as Anna seemed to be about them. But she just didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to handle another complicated relationship. Later, she told herself as she gave Anna a one-armed hug. I’ll be a good daughter to her someday.
The folder was tucked under the driver’s seat and Jess was acutely aware of it all the way home. She was dying for the chance to study it further. To look for connections between the women or maybe, if she was lucky, Cody De Jager or James Rosenburg or Jake Holmes. Anthony Bartels. No one would escape her scrutiny.
But first she had to get past Meredith. Her friend’s car was already in the driveway when Jess pulled up.
“Auntie Mer!” Gabe shrieked, ever enthusiastic. He launched himself from the car before Jess even had a chance to put it in park. When Jess glanced at Max and he rolled his eyes, she felt kinship bloom beneath her breastbone. It felt good to be united with Max in something, even if it was something less than cordial.
By the time Jess had the car off and was climbing out of the driver’s side, Gabe and Meredith were coming into the garage. Gabe was clutching a Tupperware container to his chest, and Meredith had a paper bag in each arm.
“Supper!” Meredith sang, leaning in so that Jess could give her an awkward hug around the bulky parcels.
“Thank you,” Jess said in spite of herself. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“Sure I did,” Meredith enthused. “When the mood strikes, I’d better make the most of it. You know from personal experience that I’m not the most thoughtful best friend in the world.”
It was true. Meredith was a bit singular in her attention—and it was usually focused on herself. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She wasn’t selfish, just zeroed in on her job, her family, her hobbies. Jess didn’t blame her. It was so easy to be wrapped up in the day-to-day. But ever since Evan’s death, Meredith had stepped up her game. She was concerned, involved, present.
“Let me take one of those.” Jess eased a bag out of Meredith’s arms and chastised herself for being so uncharitable. She was lucky to have Meredith on her side, especially because she suspected Mer’s famous buttermilk brownies—her weakness—were in the Tupperware container that Gabe was carrying.
“Todd made sandwiches,” Meredith said once they were in the kitchen and unloading the bags. “Turkey and swiss on pretzel buns. And there are potato chips and French onion dip, and carrots and celery.”
“And brownies!” Gabe announced, peering into the Tupperware container with barely contained glee.
“I’ll take one of those.” Max snagged a brownie before Jess could stop him. He took a big bite and said around the gooey confection in his mouth: “The sweet potato chili was barely edible.”
Jess turned to hide a smile.
“Well, have a sandwich, too,” Meredith said, slapping the counter to get Max’s attention. “And don’t forget your vegetables.”
“Thanks.” Jess put her hand on Meredith’s back and gave a little rub. “This was really nice of you. I didn’t realize how tired I was until now, but I’m going to have a bite to eat, put Gabe to bed, and then take a hot bath.”
Meredith’s eyes clouded for just a second. “Sounds great, Jess. But I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute first.”
Jess felt a prickle of concern.
Meredith wasn’t typically the serious sort, but all of a sudden Jessica wondered if her friend had brought supper over for a reason other than compassion. “Okay,” she said a little over-brightly. “Would you like to have supper with us?”
“Actually . . .” Meredith looked around the kitchen, her gaze alighting first on Max as he finished the last bite of his brownie and then on Gabe where he sat at the table trying unsuccessfully to open the foil bag of potato chips. “I was hoping we could talk alone.”
Jess stalked across the kitchen and took the bag from Gabe. Opening it in one swift motion she handed it back to him and said, “Tonight’s not great for me. I haven’t seen the boys all day and—”
She realized her mistake the moment the words were out of her mouth.
“Oh?” Meredith asked. “Where were you today?”
Jess couldn’t explain it, but she was gripped with a need to keep her meeting with Deputy Mullen a secret. Maybe Meredith was being too nosy, maybe she just needed to have something in her life that was hers and hers alone. Either way, she gave her hand a casual wave. “I had to run some errands. The boys stayed with Henry and Anna.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Meredith said with a tight-lipped smile. Then she visibly softened, took a step toward Jess. “I know you’re tired. Just a couple of minutes, okay?”
Jess left the boys with instructions to pour a glass of milk and eat at least a handful of veggies each. She doubted if they would obey her, but at least she had left them with a motherly edict.
Since the kitchen, dining room, and living room all flowed into one, there were few places in the Chamberlain house to go for privacy. So Jess led Meredith to the spare bedroom that they used as an office at the front of the house. It was untidy and poorly organized, a dumping ground for all the things that didn’t seem to have a home. There were a few boxes of Christmas decorations stacked in the corner, and a printer on the desk that had been out of ink for at least a year. Jess hadn’t been in the office in ages and set to self-consciously straightening up as Meredith shut the door behind them.
“Don’t,” Meredith said, waving her hands in front of her. “Seriously. I don’t care. You’ve seen my house.”
It was true. Meredith wasn’t the world’s best housekeeper.
“But you can’t even sit down,” Jess complained, lifting a stack of books off one of the chairs. She cast around for a place to put them and ended up setting them on the floor behind the desk. “There you go.”
“So formal,” Meredith teased, but Jess could tell that her heart wasn’t in it.
“What?” A premonition rippled down Jess’s spine like a chill. Meredith was really upset about something. “What in the world is going on?”
“Come and sit,” Meredith said, sinking into one of the wingback chairs in front of the darkened window. The shades were drawn, but even if they had been open, the night was black outside. It was a thick and moonless night, heavy with clouds that swept in late and low against the wintry air.
“I don’t want to sit.”
Meredith sighed. “Please, Jess. Just indulge me.”
Jess didn’t say that she was always indulging her, though she wanted to. It just wasn’t in her nature to put up a fuss. So she crossed the room with more than a little trepidation and perched on the end of the seat like she’d been told. “Say it,” Jess whispered, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. “Whatever you came here to say, just say it.”
“I received a phone call yesterday,” Meredith began, then stalled out. She squeezed her eyes shut for just a second and tried again. “Someone called me with concerns about how things are going in Evan’s absence.”
Disbelief and fury tingled across Jess’s skin. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t. When Meredith started to talk again, Jess put up her hand to stop her. A moment or two passed in utter silence and then Jess managed to croak: “What is that supposed to mean? Who called you?”
“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Meredith begged.
“Someone is concerned about me?” Jess’s voice was shrill even in her own ears. “This house? My kids?”
Meredith ducked her chin down a notch. Yes.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.” Jess wanted to scream, to kick Meredith out of her house. To run away where prying eyes couldn’t sift and measure her every action and inaction. She was seething, her blood rolling in a low boil that threatened to spill up and over.
Meredith looked miserable. “I’m a mandatory reporter,” she said quietly. “You know that. Do you think it was fun for me to field a phone call about my best friend? What was I supposed to do?”
“Defend me.” Jess bit the words off her tongue.
“I did, believe me.”
“Did you report me?”
“No.” Meredith had the good sense to look affronted. “But people are starting to wonder . . .”
“Wonder what?” Jess threw herself out of the chair and paced the room, her pulse high and hot, stinging in her cheeks. “I just lost my husband, Meredith. Who called you?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“What did they say?” Jess was aware that she was almost shouting. If she didn’t cool it a bit, Gabe would come running. She took a deep, shuddering breath and asked again, quieter: “What did they say about me?”
Meredith squirmed. It was so uncharacteristic Jess almost laughed. But there was nothing funny about their conversation. “I don’t know what to tell you,” Meredith said. “You have a six-year-old at home and there have been a couple of instances lately where it seems you may have forgotten that he needs your time and attention.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jess hissed. “Gabe has my full attention.”
“Always?” Meredith asked the question hesitantly, but she held Jess’s livid gaze. “You’ve been a little busy lately.”
“What are you saying?”
“And Max is clearly going through a rough patch . . .”
“That’s my fault?” Jess threw herself down on the chair and leaned forward with elbows on knees so that her legs skimmed against Meredith’s. “My boys just lost their father. We are going through one of the most difficult things a family could possibly face. I can’t believe you’re sitting here judging me!”
Meredith reached out and took Jess’s hands in her own. She pinched just a little too hard, her thumbs digging into the fine bones of Jess’s wrists. “I’m not judging you, Jess. And I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m trying to be your friend. The fact that I’m even here—that I’m telling you this—is probably unethical. A breach of confidentiality at least. But because I love you I wanted you to know. People are concerned.”
People. More than one? Jess was so horrified she could hardly breathe. “I can’t believe it.”
“Look, it’s going to be okay. I just think you need to lie low for a while, you know? Stay home, keep your boys close.”
Jess bristled and yanked away from Meredith’s anxious grip. “What do you mean? Are you suggesting I hide?”
“Of course not,” Meredith said. “But if Child Protective Services gets involved, there’s not much I can do.”
“Why did they call you?”
Meredith lifted a shoulder. “I’m your friend. I’m a social worker. I guess they saw me as a first step. Consider it a small grace.”
“Grace?” Jess choked.
“Look, Jess, I’m trying to help you and do my job. I don’t think you fully appreciate the position I’m in.” She looked like she might cry, but Jess was unmoved. Of all the times for Mer to roll over and play dead. Jess needed an advocate. A fierce warrior friend. And Meredith was exactly the sort to rise to the occasion, but for some reason she wasn’t up to the task this time. Jess could see it in the slump of her shoulders, the sad, desperate look in her eyes. Meredith wanted to be forgiven, but Jess needed her to take up a sword.
“Thank you for supper,” Jessica said, dismissing her friend. “A
nd thank you for telling me. But if anyone else decides to burden you with their opinions about my ability to parent my children, you can send them directly to me.”
“Jess, I—”
“I’d like you to go now.” Jess opened the door so that the sounds from the rest of the house filtered into the office. A laugh track from a television show and the clatter of dishes in the sink. Max as he said something indistinguishable to Gabe.
“Mom?” Gabe yelled from the kitchen, preternaturally aware that his mother was in earshot. “May I have a brownie now?”
“Sure, honey,” Jess called back. She was grateful that there was only the slightest quiver in her voice.
Meredith stood a little unsteadily and took a few steps toward Jessica. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to know . . .”
When she trailed off, Jessica didn’t fill in the silence or make any move to comfort her friend. She knew that she was being rather horrible, hard-hearted and condemning, but she had never felt so attacked in her entire life. Auburn was a small community, but the fact that people were willing to gossip about a recent widow—and make their concerns known to a social worker—was beyond the pale. Jess loved her kids more than her own life, and she had spent the last thirteen years proving exactly that. Every decision she had made since the moment Max was born was made with his best interests at heart. How dare they judge her. How dare Meredith do anything other than defend her tooth and nail.
“Okay,” Meredith said, setting her shoulders. She seemed in that moment to come to a conclusion, and it wasn’t a charitable one. She gave Jessica one last, hard look, and then swept out of the room with an air of superiority. “Bye, boys!” she called, her words cheerful and bright, as artificial as her attempt at normalcy.
