Sienna pulled out her phone to call the nurse’s station, but she stopped to read a text from Will asking her if they could talk later that evening. She didn’t have the strength to engage with him at that moment, so she swiped the message away for the time being. A few below his message was the last one she’d received from Juliet, from the night they’d gone to Neptune’s. It was just a smiley face in response to something Sienna had texted, but it still filled her with a profound sadness. They never should have crossed that line. She never should have crossed that line. She was angry at herself and was about to swipe right on the message to delete the entire chain forever but stopped just before she could press the red delete button. Maybe they could go back to the way things had been before she’d opened her mouth and said it out loud. Maybe it wasn’t too late.
* * *
The heat wave she’d told Juliet about the other night had made its appearance. Eighty degrees in September wasn’t unheard of, but it wasn’t the norm either. Sienna wiped a few beads of sweat off her brow before she used the entrance doors into the law offices of Cornwell and Page. She took a deep breath and tried to remind herself that this was necessary. She’d loved Will, she’d married him, and it didn’t work out. She wasn’t minimizing the importance of their union, but she also didn’t want to be unhappy for the next forty years because they’d entered into a legal agreement. It happened, they’d both grow from it, and they’d move on. That was the only choice left.
Lance Cornwell was in the reception area when Sienna walked in. He was a youngish guy who had on suspenders with his expensive slacks and crisp white dress shirt and black tie. He shook her hand.
“Hi, Sienna, nice to see you again. Pam, please hold my calls for the next hour. Shall we?” He motioned into his office, where the door stood open. The entire wall behind his desk was a window. Sienna was pretty sure they could see all the way to Boston from the seventh-floor view. Somewhere in the suburbs between Shell Creek and the city, the leaves had started to take on a dark shade of gold.
“Good to see you as well,” Sienna lied, taking a seat across from his desk. It was cold and hard and sterile looking. It fit in well with the office décor.
“Let’s get to it. As I said the last time we spoke, I called Will’s attorney, and they declined an uncontested no-fault divorce. So, we’ll have to move forward with the 1B.” Lance clicked something with his mouse and his printer came to life. Multiple sheets started shooting into the catch tray.
Sienna began to feel overwhelmed. Why was it so hot in the office? She’d taken off her jacket, so all she had on was a dress shirt with short sleeves and a pair of black jeans. She’d even worn her sandals, which she wished she could have kicked off. She was just so fucking hot.
“What is the 1B again?” she asked, fidgeting with her necklace.
“A contested no-fault divorce. We file that when one of the spouses believes there’s an irreconcilable breakdown of the marriage, but the other one doesn’t have the same thought process. The divorce can still be a contested no-fault even if both parties think the marriage has ended, but they don’t agree on separation of assets, child support, those kinds of things. Very common, don’t worry about it.” Lance combed through the papers he’d printed and made a few notations with a T-clip Cross pen. Sienna couldn’t help but admire his old-school vibe.
“When you say ‘contested,’ does that mean he doesn’t have to agree to a divorce, and it’ll be held up in court?” Sienna asked.
“No, the state’s not really in the business of forcing unhappy people to stay together. It’ll still move forward just like it was an uncontested divorce, but it could just take slightly longer to come to property division agreements if he’s belligerent about it. Timeline for everything to be completed is around a hundred and twenty days,” Lance said.
Sienna nodded. One hundred and twenty days sounded so long and so short in the same breath. In four months, she would be completely unencumbered and free to move on with the second half of her life. Also, in four months, she’d be a middle-aged divorcee without much of a plan or a support system. And Declan. Always Declan. She hoped beyond hope that he would forgive her and remain part of her life. If Declan hadn’t been in the picture, she would have taken this step years earlier.
“Once we file this with the state and we receive our hearing date, it’s all pretty quick from there. Depending on how easily the two of you agree on how things should be split, of course. I know you’d mentioned that you don’t want to seek alimony. I’m still not sure that’s the best course of action. Will would certainly be court-ordered to pay you enough to maintain your current lifestyle.”
“No, I still don’t plan on asking for alimony. I work full time and I’m capable of supporting myself without Will’s assistance.” Sienna leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs.
“Alimony isn’t a weakness, Sienna. It’s about what’s owed to you after everything you’ve put into the household and toward the marriage over the years.”
“I know.” It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to be tied to Will financially for however long that went on. If they stayed friends, great. If not, they could cut ties and be done with it.
Lance sighed. “Okay, once we attend the hearing and the judge signs off on the judgment of divorce, we have ninety days. Then it becomes an absolute, and you will officially be a single woman again. Are you feeling okay with everything?”
Of course not. “Yes, that all makes sense.”
“Great. And listen, it’s normal to feel sad or unsure, but you just have to remember how you got here. If everything was sunshine and roses, you never would have sought out a divorce attorney. Making something official in this way can sometimes cloud the past and make you wonder if you’re doing the right thing. Based on what you’ve told me and how you’ve felt for some time now, you are.”
“Thank you, Lance,” Sienna said, shaking his hand again. “I appreciate all of this.”
“You’re in good hands. Take care,” he said and held open his office door.
Emotions swirled like a tornado and she tried to take deep breaths to steady herself. She had no idea she’d be so conflicted about finally filing the paperwork. She was excited, but also filled with sadness, and she was relieved, but also heavy-hearted. She’d always love Will for who he’d been and for who he’d been to her, but she’d been out of love with him for a very long time. It was time for Sienna to focus on what lay ahead. She straightened her collar, rolled her neck from side to side, and walked out to her car like she owned the world. Time was fragile and could slip away in an instant. She just had to figure out what it was she wanted, and then make it happen.
Chapter Fifteen
Tara Wolfe sat across from Juliet, nervously chewing on her index finger cuticle. Her short brown hair was stylish as always, the gray streak deliberate, her makeup impeccable. She wore too much jewelry and was heavy-handed on the perfume, and Juliet could see the anxiety beneath it all. When she’d asked her to come in to answer a few questions, Tara had agreed, sounding resigned. She must have known they’d found her hidden documents.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Juliet asked, handing her the cup of tea she’d requested.
“I’m hoping it’s because you’ve made a big break in Rich’s murder and need my assistance in some way?”
Juliet knew she was lying based on the way the teacup quivered in her hand. “Not sure if we’ve made a break or not, but I do want to talk to you about that flash drive.”
Tara’s eyes widened for a microsecond. She regained a semblance of composure quickly. “Okay, what about it?”
“You didn’t mention in your initial interview that you had romantic feelings for Mr. Kowalski.”
She flinched. “Why would I? People have crushes all the time, doesn’t make them murderers.”
“That’s very true, but the content on the flash drive doesn’t allude to a harmless crush, Tara. You were taking notes about the details of Richar
d’s life, and promising that the two of you would be together someday. I assume you know his wife?” Juliet leaned back in her chair and folded her hands together on the desk.
“I know Gretchen, yes. I never wanted her to get hurt in any of this, she’s a lovely woman. She just wasn’t good for Rich. And I wasn’t stalking him or anything, I just wanted to anticipate the things he wanted before he even knew he wanted them. Like his morning coffee and daily newspaper. In a way, I was being altruistic.”
Yeah, right. “How did you know about his medication? The exact dose he takes? I can’t imagine there’s much altruism in that.”
“We talked, you know. Often. You may think the library is a happening place, but there were some days when it was just the two of us for the better part of eight hours. You get to know a person pretty well spending that much time together.”
Juliet hadn’t for a second considered the library a “happening place.” “I have to ask. What was it about Richard Kowalski that would make a forty-eight-year-old woman fall for a near-seventy-year-old married man with health issues? Obviously, looks aren’t everything and I’m not implying that they are. But being married as well as two decades older is a pretty big deterrent, don’t you think?” Juliet thrummed her fingers on the table while Tara sipped her tea like it could help her find the answers.
“Rich knew me better than anyone else. I told him everything. And he listened. I mean, really listened. Better than anyone I’ve ever known. He knew the parts of me that I kept hidden from the rest of the world,” Tara said. Her eyes welled up.
“Did he know how you felt?” Juliet asked quietly.
“Of course not. If I told him before the time was right, it would ruin everything. I was waiting for the perfect moment.”
Juliet paused. Had the perfect moment presented itself the night of Richard’s murder? Had Tara told him that she loved him, and Richard had rejected her? Would that have sent her spiraling into getting rid of the one thing she couldn’t have? Juliet scanned her notes on Tara. She went home after work on the night that Richard had been killed, so no alibi. She drove a black Ford Focus, which in no way could be mistaken for a red truck, although that didn’t mean she didn’t know someone who owned one. Juliet sighed.
“You have to know this doesn’t look good, Tara. You were pining away for someone who was, as far as we know, happily married, and you hid files that you’d composed on him that are, to be frank, creepy. The fact that you made note of the dosage of the medicine that killed him doesn’t help either.”
Tara swallowed hard but didn’t say anything.
“Can you contradict anything that I’ve said? Was Richard unhappy in his marriage? Do you have anyone that can corroborate the fact that you were at home on the night of his death?” Juliet spread her hands over the open folder in front of her.
“No. I was alone. I watched TV and went to bed and then went rushing over to the library as soon as someone from your department called me. Rich was my soulmate, for Christ’s sake.” Tara banged the table with her hand, sending tea flying over the side of the cup and onto the corner of Juliet’s folder.
“Who is Mr. Restarick?” Juliet asked, hoping to catch her off guard.
“Who?”
“Mr. Restarick.”
“I have no idea. I mean, besides the literary character. Why? Is that someone under suspicion?” Tara asked.
“Literary character?”
“Yes, from Third Girl by Agatha Christie. We always joked about how we loved that Poirot book but so many people didn’t because it took place in the sixties. It wasn’t the usual type of plot, a girl thought she might have killed someone, and a woman was poisoned…” Tara trailed off, seeming to realize the significance.
“Poisoned? How?”
“Arsenic, I think. It’s been a while since I’ve read it and she used all kinds of poisons. It was sort of her thing.” Tara dabbed at the spilled tea. She was probably happy that the conversation had shifted.
“That’s actually helpful. I’m not sure how yet, but it’ll fit somewhere. It usually does. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about your relationship with Richard? Since he didn’t know how you really felt, I assume it’s safe to say that it never became physical in any way?” Juliet continued to jot Tara’s answers in her small notebook.
“No. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to grieving the life I’ll never have. If you could reopen the library so I can get back to work sooner than later, that would probably help,” Tara said.
She seemed oblivious to the fact that she likely would never have had her imaginary life at all, which raised alarm bells. “Will you be taking on the role of head librarian now that Richard is gone?”
Tara shook her head. “I doubt it. I’ve only been doing this for a couple of years. Before I got my degree, I worked in a bookstore. Richard had a lifetime’s worth of knowledge. He could recite the location of every classic in that entire place.”
Juliet raised her eyebrows at how wistful Tara became when speaking about him. She idolized him, clearly, and that didn’t always translate into something healthy. Plenty of people had been killed by their idolizers in order to protect them from something or other. They felt the world was too terrible for the object of their affection to be subjected to its travesties. Or, when their idolizing wasn’t returned, they became aggressive. Did Tara fall into either of those categories?
“We’d like you to speak with a therapist that we work with on certain cases that warrant it. Is that something you’d be willing to do?” Juliet asked.
“I’d rather not.” She picked up her bag like she was ready to leave.
“It’s your choice, of course, but it could help to clear your name, if everything you’ve told me is true.”
“Of course, it’s true,” Tara snapped. “Fine, I’ll talk to your shrink. Are we done here?”
Juliet nodded. “For now, yes. Thank you for your time today.”
“Are you going to tell Gretchen? About me and Rich?” Tara didn’t meet Juliet’s eyes as she pulled her cross-body bag over her head.
“Sounds like there isn’t much to tell, at least not at this time.”
“Yeah,” Tara said and jogged quickly away from the conference room in a scented haze of florals and spices.
Juliet stared after her, wondering if Tara actually wanted Gretchen to know someone else had loved Richard. There was no telling what went through someone’s mind when they became obsessed with someone. There was no question, though, that Tara’s name was comfortably on the suspect list.
* * *
Juliet fiddled with her keyring as she walked outside to the cruiser and a blast of heat hit her in the face like a wall. Fall was supposed to be crisp and cool with sweaters and pumpkin spice and crunchy leaves. Instead, it was about eighty-five degrees and so humid Juliet could feel beads of sweat pooling in the small of her back. Lovely.
A familiar Volvo was parked in the space next to the squad car, stopping Juliet in her tracks. Sienna exited her vehicle, file folders in her arms and a laptop bag swung over her shoulder.
“Hi,” Sienna said, clearly surprised at their meeting.
“Hey.” Juliet felt an unrelenting tug at the center of her chest, and she ignored it. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yeah,” Sienna said. “Chief Quinlan asked me to come in and chat with him about Gretchen’s progress. See if she’s remembered anything else, that kind of thing.”
“Oh, good. Good.” Juliet nodded. Of course, it had to get awkward. What had been so comfortable and so right now felt like a blanket, too thick and too tight and too suffocating.
“Okay, well, I’m going to go.” Sienna tilted her head toward the front entrance.
“Okay. See ya.” Juliet turned as Sienna entered the building, her hair perfect even with the humidity, her silky sleeveless blouse clinging to her back just a little, Capris hugging her muscular calves, her sandals encasing pedicured feet with pink-painted toenails, and
her general air of confidence and warmth filling the space around her.
Trying to push thoughts of Sienna aside, Juliet cranked her radio up and attempted to get lost in the frantic guitar riffs of peak Guns N’ Roses. It worked a little and she relaxed into the drive.
Officer Jane Leland was directing traffic on Main Street. The grocer in town had hit a power line during the night and knocked out the electricity for a few blocks. Juliet was glad she wasn’t on duty at the time. She’d barely been able to sleep as it was. She didn’t need the added stress of telling a sweet little old man that his driving days were likely behind him. Celeste had had the pleasure of that particular task.
“Afternoon, Lieutenant,” Leland greeted her as Juliet pulled up beside her. Leland was nothing if not formal. She leaned against the door where Juliet’s window was all the way down.
“Afternoon, Officer. Any ETA on the electricity? I’m heading across the street to the library and it looks like it’s still out over there too.”
Leland shook her head. “The utility guys told me they were working down at the other end of the street first, so they could get the town offices up and running. There are a few doctors’ offices over that way as well, so they want to make sure those are on the priority list, too.”
“Okay, makes sense. I’m sure I can feel my way around a dark, empty, creepy library with just my flashlight.” Juliet smiled.
Leland smiled back. She’d been on the force the longest. She’d been offered promotions over the years, but she felt most comfortable in her role as an officer. Her days with the Shell Creek Police Department had begun around the time Juliet was born. They waved good-bye and Juliet pulled into the library parking lot.
She pulled out the key she’d taken from Kowalski’s things and opened the door. It creaked on cue, adding to the haunted atmosphere that gave her the creeps.
“Come on, it’s the middle of the day. Don’t be such a baby.” It didn’t help that most of the blinds had been drawn and it really was dark inside. It was almost completely silent. The only sound Juliet could hear was the persistent buzzing of a fly. Otherwise, nothing.
Heart of the Storm Page 9
