Secrets She Knew: A Secrets and Lies Suspense Novel

by D. L. Wood

  “I thought you said I’d have to go through the Chief for information about your findings.”

  “I said that?” he asked with exaggerated innocence, his artificial, wide-eyed expression highlighted by the glare from the streetlamp.

  She nodded vigorously.

  “Hmm. Well, if I’d stuck to that, I would’ve had even less of a reason to come by, wouldn’t I?”

  She grinned. “I guess so.”

  He wrinkled his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and nodding in superior acknowledgment, then twisted away from her, continuing down the path. He threw a hand up over his shoulder. “See you later, Boston. Get some sleep,” he called out, then climbed into his truck and drove away.

  7

  But sleep was not in Dani’s immediate future. If she had been thinking more clearly, on her way home she would have picked up some Red Bull, but as it was, all she had was her dad’s coffee. So she poured out the pot of decaf and brewed a whole pot of high-octane, double strength, caffeinated-to-the-last-drop java that, with any luck, would keep her up all night.

  She considered which of her options was least likely to break her back or allow her to drift off to sleep, finally settling on sitting on the living room floor in front of the coffee table. After moving her mother’s silk daisy arrangement off of it, she propped a few pillows between her and the couch for support, parked herself on the floor and surveyed the tabletop. On the left sat the stout mug of coffee on a coaster her parents had picked up in Memphis that read, “Elvis Has Left The Building.” To the right was her service revolver. And directly in front of her, printed in black ink on eight-and-a-half by eleven-inch paper, was a photocopy of Jennifer Cartwright’s diary.

  Dani ran a hand over the thick stack, the paper slick against it, not suffering even the slightest bit of guilt over making the copy at the Office Hut before going to see Chief Killen that morning.

  There was no way she could have turned the diary over without ensuring herself an opportunity to read through it completely. Since it was too long to get through before turning it in to the Chief—something that, from a procedural perspective, needed to happen as soon as possible—her only option had been to make a copy for herself.

  There were other reasons too. Having a copy gave her some leverage, some power, just in case things stalled and she needed to be able to put some pressure on the authorities. Based on the Chief’s and Chris’s comments it sounded like no one was in any particular hurry to wade through it, or to address any potential questions it might raise.

  Well, I’m not having it.

  She was getting through this thing tonight. At least one full pass. And then she would know.

  Dani had been dying to get to the diary all day, but when she hadn’t returned to the house until nearly three, she realized that she had to get some packing done first if she wanted to stay on schedule and be ready when Estate Settlers came. She had known that if she opened the diary, she wouldn’t have been able to put it down, so she forced herself to work until it was time to go to Sasha’s. Chris’s visit had delayed her a bit longer, but now there was nothing standing in her way.

  She glanced at the other item lying on the coffee table: the file Chief Killen had given her which contained a copy of all the documents related to the initial investigation into Jennifer Cartwright’s murder. It was a closed case, so it wasn’t a violation of any rule to let her look it over, but it wasn’t typically allowed. She had asked him for it as a favor, citing her need to gain closure. Which was the truth, but not exactly in the way he thought.

  He had handed it to her, commenting that he hoped it would help her finally put this obsession to rest. But her intention was to use it to break the case wide open, find a trail leading to the real murderer, and in that way, get closure. With any luck, comparing the evidence in the file to the entries in the diary would reveal something that pointed to someone other than Dr. Beecher as Jennifer’s killer.

  Determination fueling her, she tossed back a gulp of coffee, opened the diary to where she had left off the night before, and started reading.

  January 27, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I got invited to Jason’s party. I want to go, but Kendall doesn’t because Andy will be there…

  January 28, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  Well, of course, Kendall and Andy got back together at the party. I’m really worried about her. She tells me it’s fine…

  …

  February 8, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  The Sadie Hawkins dance is coming up and I don’t know who to ask. Sometimes I feel so…so…lonely. I guess everyone goes through that but it seems like no one really knows me or understands me. I’m thinking about asking Nathan. I don’t know. But I know what I’m wearing. I got this amazing sweater at the Gap and I found a suede skirt that will go perfectly with my Liz Claiborne flats…

  …

  February 19, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I got a C on my English test today. I don’t know what happened. I studied soooo hard. Mom and Dad won’t be happy. I’ll ask Mr. Rheardon if I can do extra credit. I can’t have it dropping my average, not if I want a scholarship…

  …

  March 4, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  Our church youth group served at the veterans' home again today. Mr. Crenshaw was so happy to see me. I brought him chocolate chip cookies again—he says they’re his favorite. I love the way he smiles when I visit. And he tells the best stories…

  …

  March 18, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  Sometimes I sit at the lunch table and look around at the girls with me and wonder if any of them are really my friends. Sometimes I hear them whispering, and sometimes I hear my name. Kendall’s the only one I really trust. I think most of them just hang out with me because I’m a cheerleader or whatever…

  Dani yawned and ran a hand over her hair, catching it in her fingers and twirling it, stretching a piece across her mouth. She glanced at the clock on the mantel. Twelve thirty. Three hours and she had only gotten through March. The girl was prolific. At least one page each day, though usually more. And so far none of it had shed any light on what had happened to her.

  What it had done, however, was introduce Dani to the girl that Jennifer Cartwright had been. Not the girl Dani knew from school—the popular, smart, got-it-all-together cheerleader that she had seen on the outside—but rather, the Jennifer on the inside, the insecure teenager who wanted to be understood, but never felt like she was. Who liked spending time with people and making them feel better, and who tried to look out for her friend’s best interests. Who was worried about a C and what it might do to her grade point average. Who was lonely because she believed that most of her friends didn’t really like her for who she was.

  They had been more alike than Dani had realized at fifteen. Their problems might have varied in specifics or degree, but so much was the same—the insecurity, the fear of the future, the loneliness, the need to be a part of something real. It was hard for everyone, and it had been hard for Jennifer too.

  Dani took another long sip of coffee, then went back to flipping pages. It was more of the same—angst and clothes and girl drama—until she reached the entry for April 21, 1995. Her breath caught in her chest as she read the same entry three times.

  April 21, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I know a secret.

  I know a secret. The discovery energized Dani as she stared at the page, but Jennifer’s lack of elaboration was maddening. The space beneath this single, potent sentence was completely blank. How was that possible? The girl could write a two-page dissertation on the merits of regular denim versus acid-washed, but on this pivotal issue, she had nothing else to say? Slightly annoyed, Dani kept reading, and to her relief was rewarded two entries later.

  April 23, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  It’s all I can think about. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I asked
her—I just told her I had a feeling. I didn’t tell her I’d seen them together—and she denied everything. But I don’t believe her. I think he’s a creep. An absolute creep. But I can’t prove it, and what if I’m wrong? I don’t think I am—I know what I saw—but I don’t know what to do…

  Who was the “creep” and who was the “her” Jennifer had talked to who denied everything?

  Dani grabbed her legal pad and jotted down the relevant dates along with notes about their content. Then she opened the case file, removed the summaries and reports and spread them out across the table. During an earlier inspection of the file, she noticed that the diary was mentioned in several of the reports as missing. She thought this would have made the investigators more anxious to quickly review the diary now that it had been found, not less so—unless, of course, they were afraid that the information it contained would undermine their original investigation and the jury’s conviction, a concern both the Chief and Chris seemed to confirm by their comments.

  Now she made a quick scan of the same investigation documents looking for, one, any mention of any “secret” Jennifer may have been keeping, and, two, any person—maybe the “creep”—that had worried her. But there was nothing of the sort recorded anywhere in the witness statements, reports or summaries.

  From the looks of it, this was all new information. Hope surged in the depths of Dani’s spirit. Maybe there was a chance for Dr. Beecher after all.

  8

  April 24, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I think he knows. I think he saw me that day. I know she didn’t, but I thought he might have seen me right before I ran out, and now I think I’m right. For a while now he’s been trying too hard, smiling too much—it’s so creepy. I won’t smile back or anything, and I think he’s finally changed tactics. Now he won’t look at me anymore unless he has to. You know how you can tell when someone is avoiding you? Well, he is…

  …

  May 1, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  Dr. and Mrs. Beecher asked me to work as their nanny this summer. Their full-time nanny is leaving in May and with him being a doctor and her being a lawyer, there won’t be anyone to watch the kids all summer. I am really excited. It’s not that far from home so I can just ride my bike over. They said they’ll pay me $150 a week! The kids are pretty easy too, Sam’s four and Caitlin’s six. I’ll save soooo much money!…

  A pang of sadness struck Dani as she read these words. So that was how it had started. The Beechers asked Jennifer to be their nanny and she had ended up dead on their property just two months later. If only Jennifer had said no. If only they hadn’t asked. Or would it have made a difference at all? Would she still have been murdered, but her body hidden somewhere else?

  May 4, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I HAVE MET HIM…

  It was two in the morning when Dani read this entry that finally introduced the mysterious boyfriend. The boyfriend Jennifer wrote about in the July entries, whom she had been fighting with just days before she died. Dani sat up straight, blinked furiously to shake off the sleepiness pressing down on her, and plunged forward.

  …Well, not “met” him, really. But I’ve found him. I’ve known him for a long time—known who he is, I mean, but I’ve never really seen him, never really noticed him until now. And now, he’s all I can think about. He is so smart. And funny. And he makes me feel safe. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow. And the next day, and the next…

  …

  May 6, 1995

  Dear Diary, Can you love someone after two days? Is that possible? He says he loves me. I think I love him too. But I don’t know if they will understand. I told him that we have to keep this a secret for now. He said he was okay with that. My parents wouldn’t like this at all. They wouldn’t like him. But I don’t care. He’s everything now. My guy. My whole world…

  …

  May 10, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  He is so amazing...

  …

  May 20, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I want to be with him every second, but I can’t even talk to him on the phone because my parents will see the number. He wants us to tell our parents. He’s tired of having to keep it from everyone at school so I can avoid drama at home, but my parents won’t get it. He says his parents will be fine with it and I said his parents aren’t the problem. He says we can’t keep going on like this because it isn’t fair and it makes him feel terrible about himself. He says it makes him feel like I’m ashamed of him. I told him that’s crazy and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore…

  …

  May 22, 1995

  Dear Diary, Today he gave me a ring. A silver band of twisted vines. He says it’s to remind me of him when we are apart, or when we’re in the same room, but have to pretend we aren’t together. He still thinks we should tell our parents, but I’m not ready. This ring is my favorite thing in the whole world. I’ll never take it off…

  Every entry from there forward went on and on, page after page, about how wonderful “he” was and how they would be together forever. A boyfriend that Dani had never heard of—not at school, not before the murder and not after. Now that she had read those investigative reports through several times, she was absolutely sure that there was no mention in them whatsoever of a boyfriend, secret or otherwise.

  A secret, a boyfriend and a “creep.” Maybe the “secret” Jennifer had mentioned was a reference to the creep, but in any event, all of it was apparently unknown to the investigators. Scribbling furiously, Dani added more notes to her list, then kept reading. The entries continued to rave about the boyfriend—cute, sweet, gorgeous, his hair, his car, his favorite movies, the sweet things he said. Jennifer had catalogued all the places they met where no one would see them together. At school they would find ways to cross paths, sit in the library on opposite sides of the same table, etcetera. Then once summer came they would meet at the park by the ballfields, or at his house—because his parents both worked during the day—or at the shed by the river at Dr. Beecher’s—

  The shed. They had met at the shed.

  So the boyfriend would have known about the thick mounds of honeysuckle growing along the fence just a few dozen yards from that shed. Thick, dense mounds that could hide anything. Even a body. Cold dread, sharp like shards of ice, pierced Dani’s insides as she kept reading.

  All the way through June, the entries about the boyfriend continued, all sugar and sunshine, along with the more mundane tidbits of Jennifer’s life—a new pair of shoes, a trip to see a cousin in Georgia, regret over breaking some jewelry her grandmother had given her, a fight with her mother, and so on. She even wrote about her job at Dr. Beecher’s, and had nothing but good things to say. Both Dr. and Mrs. Beecher were kind. The kids were sweet, a little energetic, but sweet. It was easy money. It was a perfect teenage summer.

  Then came June 26th.

  June 26, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  Today I saw the creep at the movies—fifteen miles away in Northport! Amber drove us—I can’t wait to turn 16 too—He didn’t see me, but I saw him. He was in a car, parked in the shadows down the side of the building. And I saw who he was with. It’s clear what’s going on—now I know I wasn’t wrong before—and now he’s trying it with someone else. I’m not going to tell her, though. I didn’t tell Amber either. It won’t help. It makes me sick just thinking about it. I don’t know how he’s kept this a secret from everyone. But someone needs to know. Someone needs to stop him. I told my guy about the creep, but he isn’t sure what I should do either…

  June 27, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I did it. I confronted the creep. I went to his house and told him that I knew what was going on and that I was going to tell. He told me no one would believe me for obvious reasons. They would think I made it up. Maybe he’s right. What if they don’t believe me? Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut, otherwise I could really get hurt…

&
nbsp; June 28, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  It’s sooooo hot, I wish it would rain. All I can think about is what I should do. It’s starting to scare me. I think he was following me today. I went in Goody’s to find a swimsuit for July 4th and saw him standing outside on the sidewalk when I looked up. He was just staring at me through the glass, until he finally just walked away. What if he starts stalking me?…

  June 29, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  The creep called. He actually called my house when no one was home. How did he know I was alone? I want to do something, but I don’t know what. As soon as I figure out who I can trust, I’m telling…

  June 30, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I can’t think about this anymore. It’s making me crazy. I don’t know what to do. I have to stop thinking about it for a while. I just have to…

  …

  July 4, 1995

  Dear Diary,

  I spent the whole day at my cousin Ellie’s lake house. It was a beautiful day. It was a good chance to get away and just forget…

  …

  July 6, 1995