TRUTH WILL OUT
There were words, and hugs, but Sutton was so tired and relieved she hardly understood them, just clung to Ethan’s hand as they made their way out to the parking lot where the unmarked car awaited them. As they got into the car, Sutton saw Ethan and the cop share a look, an almost marital glance of understanding. She felt a second of jealousy, but pushed it away when Ethan plopped into the back seat next to her with a grin, grasped her hand, and passionately kissed her lips. She saw the cop look at them with something akin to satisfaction on her face, and felt only gratitude.
Ethan was a handsome man, and he’d clearly been through something with this cop, but Sutton was not going to allow her petty emotions to get in the way of a true and full reconciliation with her husband. Never again would she doubt him. Never.
Goodness, she was feeling emphatic.
The drive to Franklin was slow, traffic south on I-65 heavy, and Ethan and the cop filled her in on everything they knew. It was the safest conversational topic. Sutton had things to say, confessions to make, and she sensed Ethan did as well, but those revelations would have to wait. They needed to be made in private, with care and understanding.
But as the car wound its way south, the words from their mouths were still difficult. Ethan held tightly to her hand the whole time, and she allowed their words to wash over her.
“We’ve positively identified the woman who was supposed to be you. An immigrant who answered an ad in the paper.”
“When she hit me, I had a second to look in her eyes, and they were blank, empty.”
“She used a wig and your rings to make it look like you.”
“They reopened Dashiell’s case. He was most likely murdered, but he wouldn’t have felt a thing, just went to sleep and didn’t wake up.”
“It seems she put software on the computers that allowed her to see every keystroke, so she had passwords, access to your accounts, everything. She and her friend were the ones behind the internet incident, and she was the one who went to the reviewer’s house dressed as you, facial recognition positively ID’d her.”
“I think she stole $50,000 from our accounts, just because she could.”
“The French aren’t pursuing charges against you, but you’re going to need to make a full statement so my boss can decide whether to press charges. No, I don’t know if he will. It all depends on what happens when we find her.”
“Filly and Ellen and Rachel were senseless with worry. They thought I did it, though. Not sure we can have them over for dinner again.”
“Yes, the man’s real name is Hank Tomkins, and we’re waiting to see what sort of deal they gave him, but he’ll do extensive jail time for the murders.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“No, we don’t know where she is.”
“Officer Graham made detective. She was just given her badge. She was the only one who believed in me.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry it happened this way, but I’m glad I caught the case.”
Ah, there was the connection. She saw it now, gleaming like a silver thread between them. Not sexual. Gratitude. Ethan had been a suspect, but Graham had held back her judgment, sensing something wasn’t right about the case. Her instincts had been handsomely rewarded, and Sutton’s husband was a free man because of it.
Then, finally, “We think we might know why she’s done it, but I’m going to let you two discuss it. Here we are.”
The house on Third Avenue appeared. The cocoon of safety in the car vanished. There were two more police cars sitting outside the house, and a man on her porch wearing a uniform.
Ivy was still out there. They weren’t going to be safe until she was in handcuffs.
Detective Graham spoke into her walkie-talkie, then said, “Okay, we’re clear. Let’s get you inside. I still wish you’d let me get you a hotel room somewhere.”
“We’ve been through this,” Ethan said. “We’re no safer there than we are here. Come on, sweetheart.”
He shielded her body and hurried her inside. Graham searched the house—overkill, surely, if there were guards—but Sutton didn’t care. She only wanted to be safe, and then, to be alone. Graham talked to the man on the front porch, then gave Ethan and Sutton a small salute. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Sutton was surprised she was being given this much latitude but didn’t complain. When the door closed, she went to Ethan, put her arms around him. The hug was long and meaningful, the kiss sweet and soft.
And then she said, “We need to talk.”
He cradled her chin in his hand, his smile gentle and forgiving. “We do. Darling, why didn’t you tell me you had a baby?”
YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN
Holly was running late. She’d promised to be at the table by eight sharp; her father was a tyrant for punctuality. Thankfully the Montclairs’ house was just around the corner from the restaurant. She felt good. This case wasn’t over, not by a long shot, but the two of them were reunited, and safe, for now.
There were no parking spots on Main Street. She drove around the corner, found an empty space three blocks away on Bridge Street. If she hurried, she’d only be five minutes late, would only receive a heavy-lidded glance and purse of the lips before an enfolding bear hug.
She hated to be late for her father.
She locked the car, the familiar squawking beep ringing out. She turned her mind to the menu. She was famished; she’d shoved down a bag of cookies from the vending machine at the airport, riding through the afternoon on a wave of crumbly sugar and coffee.
She ran through the conversation. Moreno was tough; a great cop. She’d already learned so much, knew she had much, much more to go. But she’d done it. She’d made it.
She fingered the shield on her hip, a small smile on her face. This was going to be an excellent dinner. She could already see the pride in her father’s eyes when she brought it out to show him. So yes, he’s pushing me hard, but, Daddy, they made me detective!
Detective Graham.
The dinner would turn into a celebration immediately. They would drink champagne. She loved champagne, the tickle of it going down her throat, the warm surge from her stomach.
All thanks to Ethan Montclair. And her gut. Wow, Sutton Montclair in person was amazing. A Botticelli angel, carved of ivory. Holly could only imagine what the real hair color would make her look like. They were a pair, the two of them. Unforgettable.
The case that leapfrogged her career into action. She should buy them some wine or something.
A shadow formed behind her.
She caught it out of the corner of her eye, a flash reflection in the window of the building she was walking past.
The hair stood up on the back of her neck.
She turned just in time to deflect the first thrust of the knife. It caught her in the shoulder. She gasped and got her hands up, but her attacker was fast, and had the advantage of surprise.
The blade stabbed again, and this time, Holly felt the flesh of her stomach part. The knife was large, it went deep. There wasn’t pain, just shock and confusion and a sudden concern for her parents. They’d be waiting at the restaurant, worrying about her tardiness.
A searing fire began. Holly fell to her knees, hands cradling the handle of the blade jutting absurdly from her stomach. She heard the words, whispered, maybe she dreamed them, she didn’t know, it all hurt, so much pain, she’d never felt anything so horrible, she felt invaded, could feel every inch of the metal inside her. She tried to pull the knife away, felt the warm gush of blood, and realized she was dying.
“You should have left it alone.”
And there was nothing more.
ADMISSIONS OF GUILT
Yes, I did it. Of course I did it. I’ve done all of it. Did you really
have any doubts?
And before you turn away in disgust, you need to understand something.
The cop needed to be taught a lesson, just like Sutton and Ethan needed to be taught a lesson.
She’d been warned and wouldn’t leave it alone.
They didn’t understand the gift they had in their cherubic little boy. Sutton didn’t, for sure, though Ethan might have. But if they weren’t so wrapped up in their own drama, this wouldn’t have happened. If they’d been paying attention at all, this wouldn’t have happened.
They will be so surprised when they figure out it wasn’t negligence on their parts. That I did this to them. That I knew deep in my soul what had to happen.
The boy didn’t feel a thing. I swear that. I am not that much of a monster. I have no desire to cause an innocent pain. No, the pain had to be delivered properly, to the sinners, the parents. It could not be mitigated.
Would you feel better if I told you it was an accident? Enough people die by accident that it’s entirely possible. I know we want to turn aside, look away, find all the ways this couldn’t have been a purposeful act. But let me let you in on a little secret.
It’s always intentional.
Somewhere, deep inside, there is a kernel of hate that each and every one of us must push away. Push down. Pretend it doesn’t exist. We’re all such good people.
Until we’re not.
Until something pushes us over the edge.
And then we act out. Whether it’s taking a life, hurting a loved one, breaking a law, we all do it. No one is perfect. No one is blameless.
I tried to tell Ethan once, to admit what happened, to make him understand it all, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He laughed it off, told me I was drunk and full of it, and to get off his damn lawn.
He actually said that. “Ivy, get off my damn lawn,” in that posh British accent that makes most women cream their jeans, but sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me now.
I am definitely not blameless. If only he’d listened to me, I could have saved him a lot of heartache.
Oh, and I’m back on their lawn now.
Literally.
Are you ready?
Here we go.
BE SHRIVEN
“You have to be kidding me. There’s no way.”
Ethan handed Sutton a cup of tea. She wrinkled her nose and put the mug on the coffee table. Her taste for the tea was altered, her mouth felt tinny and metallic. Her office felt too small for the both of them, but she wanted to be in there, with her books, her things, Dashiell’s small basket hidden in the closet. The world she’d abandoned, gathered around her like a cloak. She might not ever leave again.
“Graham thinks it’s the most likely scenario. Ivy is your daughter.”
“But she’s not the right age. She doesn’t look anything like me.”
“She’s younger than you think. Graham found a birth certificate at her house. She was born January 16, 1992. She’s only just turned twenty-five, though she’s been posing as someone much older. She was adopted out of the judicial system just after birth. The biological mother’s name isn’t readable on the certificate, but Graham was able to trace the date, time, and hospital to your record. It all fits, Sutton.”
The day was right. Dear God, the day was right.
“You went to jail...?” he prompted.
“For assaulting my stepfather.”
“He was the father? Oh, Sutton.”
“No, he wasn’t. I tried to pass him off as the father, tried to convince the police he’d been screwing with me, so they wouldn’t charge me. But it wasn’t true, and they didn’t buy it, anyway. I don’t know who the father is. I was semi-dating an older boy, and he invited me to a party. I knew I was going to sleep with him, I so desperately wanted to grow up, to be liked, to be the cool girl. He had a slightly different plan for the night. He and his friends got me drunk and high, and he and I had sex, but then a few of his friends came in the room. I don’t remember all of it. I don’t want to remember all of it. I felt like such an idiot afterward, that I do remember. Taught me quite the lesson. I straightened up after that, started getting myself together, but then found out I was pregnant.”
She looked at him then, tears in her eyes. “You understand now, don’t you, why I didn’t ever want to have a child? I was thirteen. All I wanted was to have an abortion and forget the whole thing. I was taking the money for my appointment when my stepfather caught me, and we had a huge fight. It got physical. I was just so angry at him.
“I was arrested for theft and assault. Joe and Siobhan wouldn’t sign the papers to let me have an abortion, so I was forced to have the baby. I hated it. I hated every second of being pregnant, of the situation, of being in juvie. It was humiliating, and frightening, and I just wanted to have that one piece of myself be sacred again.”
“And I took it from you.”
She squeezed his hand tighter. “Yes, you did. And for a long time, I hated you for it. But I swear to you, I loved Dashiell with every fiber of my being. When I thought you’d hurt him...it unhinged me. And now, to think that it was Ivy all along, that she could be mine from so long ago...”
“It’s insane. And if it’s true, then she’s insane.”
“There has to be something more. To tear apart our lives in retribution because I had to give her up? It’s not like I had a choice. I was thirteen and in juvie. They didn’t exactly give me options. And my mother...”
“What about her?”
“She threatened to tell you. Threatened to ruin everything. To tell you that I’m a criminal, that I was in jail. That’s why I pay her an allowance. So she stays quiet and lets me have my life with you.”
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could trust me with your story, Sutton. I will never forgive myself. And we will never, ever allow Siobhan in our home again.”
“Thank you. I hate her. Hate the twisted, awful world she’s forced me to live in. I feel like such a fool. My mother, Ivy... I’ve let them both manipulate me.”
“Never again. I swear. And, Sutton, listen to me. Being manipulated by Ivy doesn’t make you bad or weak. She’s a sociopath, a very troubled woman. Graham’s still piecing together the whole picture, but everything the bloke Tomkins is saying has checked out. And according to him, Ivy has been in and out of hospitals and rehabs. Severe borderline personality disorder, supposedly. Like—”
“It’s okay. I know what you were going to say. Like me. Like the character in your book. A situation you misinterpreted. Those doctors, they were wrong. I just have a run-of-the-mill anxiety disorder, which, under the circumstances, no one could blame me for. I’ve done the research. I don’t have any of the issues they claimed I did. All the meds... I don’t need them.”
“So you’re totally sane, and I’ve been writing,” he blurted out. He looked so ashamed she actually laughed.
“That’s good, Ethan. I’m very happy to hear it.”
“It’s been pouring out of me. I don’t know what the hell happened, but when you left, I was so worried and so torn, and the dam broke.”
“Maybe you had a feeling about Ivy from the get-go, and she’s the one who inspired you. Maybe you’ve been writing about her, and not me, all this time.”
“Maybe. Sutton, there’s more.”
She breathed a small sigh. “I think I knew all along. Or at least suspected she was the one you slept with.”
He was dumbfounded. “How?”
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you. After you admitted your indiscretion, and we’d gotten things back on track, she started coming around more. You got tense every time she showed up, and she always had this private little smile for you.”
His mouth was open, his eyes shocked and wide. “If you knew it, why did
n’t you say anything when I told you? And more, how could you stay friends with her?”
“Oh, Ethan. I didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to believe you’d do that, or she would. And deep down, I knew whatever it was didn’t continue. Things were so messed up between us after Dashiell... I didn’t want it to be true, so I convinced myself that it wasn’t. I didn’t want to have everything in my life go to hell all at once.”
“I never wanted her, Sutton. I’ve never wanted anyone but you since the moment I saw you. I don’t even remember that night. Graham thinks Ivy drugged me. That it was all a setup for ‘Colin Wilde’ to use against me.”
“I think that’s very possible, considering. Looking back, Ivy always made little comments about you, asked inappropriate questions about us. How you made love, how we talked in bed. At the time it was just stupid girl talk after too much wine, but now I see it for what it was. She was wringing me for information, squeezing out every last drop. She loved you. She always has. I was in the way, and she couldn’t just kill me. So she set everything up, slept with you, thinking you’d continue the affair. When you didn’t, and confessed, it infuriated her. So she killed our baby to pay us back.”
“But she knew you were her mother the whole time. That is truly sick.”
“I’m no psychologist, but if I had to guess, I’d venture to say she wanted to take away everything that mattered to me. You. Dashiell. Our marriage. And punish us both in the process.”
“She bloody well nearly succeeded.”
Sutton went silent for a moment. “Ethan... There’s more. In Paris. I—”
He held up a hand. “Tomkins—he called himself Constantine, right?—told Graham all about it, and she gave me the basics. I forgive you. My God, if you can forgive me Ivy, and Dashiell, it’s the least I can do.”
“You are forgiven,” she said. “For everything, and I hope you’ll forgive me, too, and we can let them go. They deserve each other. But I have something much more important to tell you. In Paris...I found out that I’m pregnant.”
Lie to Me Page 32
