Bitter Past, page 21
“Backup means Nadine and Kenny, and they’re both thirty minutes away,” Shawn said. “I should go help.”
Myrtle looked worried. “Be careful, son.”
“I will.”
Shawn stopped at his truck to retrieve a handgun, and Joelle watched after him anxiously as he disappeared into the forest.
“Don’t worry. He knows what he’s doing.”
There was something ironic about Myrtle reassuring her, when it should have been the other way around. But suddenly, Joelle felt completely depleted. Myrtle seemed to sense this.
“Let’s go inside.”
“I have to find Trix first. Vera drugged her and stashed her in your garden shed.”
“Oh my Lord.” Myrtle shook her head again, then put a hand on Joelle’s shoulder. “Come with me.”
The shed was tucked between the house and the garden and was almost completely covered by a climbing ivy. No wonder she’d never noticed it before. As they drew close, Joelle noticed the door was open.
“Trix!” she called, but there was no response. The dog must still be sleeping off the drugs…but when she looked inside the shed there was no sign of her. “She’s not here.”
Myrtle came up from behind to verify this. “She must have woken up and wandered off.”
“Or Vera never put her here in the first place.” Joelle realized she’d been a fool to expect Vera to tell her the truth about what she’d done with the dog.
She and Myrtle made a fruitless search of the garden and the garage area before giving up and heading back to the house. Joelle used the washroom and then crashed on the couch. “That heartless monster probably killed Trix.”
“Don’t say that. We’ll find her. When Shawn gets back we’ll go out and search again. She’s probably still drowsy from the drugs and didn’t hear us calling her.”
Myrtle brought out a tray with two glasses of iced tea and a plate of turkey and cranberry relish sandwiches. “Rosemary brought the sandwiches over last night. Try one. They’re delicious.”
Joelle didn’t realize how hungry she was until she started eating, but the first sandwich went down so fast she ate another.
“Now tell me what happened with Vera,” Myrtle coaxed. “Did she really kill Eve Brooks?”
“Yes.” The older woman’s eyes went wide with shock and disbelief as Joelle explained how Vera had killed Eve and then cleaned up the crime scene.
“To think she sat there having breakfast with all of us the next morning, never giving a sign that she knew anything about that body.” Myrtle took a deep breath. “What did she tell you about Sam?”
Though she hated to be the one to share the bad news, Joelle did her best to recount everything Vera had said, word for word. The more she said, the smaller Myrtle seemed to get, huddled into a corner of the couch.
“I’m so sorry, Myrtle.” Joelle reached forward to squeeze her hand.
“And to think she had the nerve to attend my book club meeting, the very night she planned to kill my husband. Then show up and pretend to be my friend while I was waiting for search and rescue to find him.”
“She’s truly evil.”
“And yet you faced her down in the forest and survived.” Myrtle’s voice contained a mixture of admiration and wonder.
“It was like my worst nightmare. Literally. Lucky Zak showed up when he did. I wasn’t expecting him for at least another half hour.”
“Yes, well, I got a call from your sister around two o’clock. She said you hadn’t replied to her last message, and she was worried. So I phoned Zak and asked if he could check in on you. Then, Shawn and I left my sister’s and hurried home.”
“Olivia called you? I better phone her back.”
“Of course.”
Joelle went out to the porch and soon connected with Olivia. “It’s been crazy here, sis. But I found the answers for you.” She explained how Wyatt had sent the blackmail letter, then confessed to his mother, who had planned and executed Brent’s murder. She didn’t share the details of her encounter with Vera. That would have to wait for an in-person conversation.
“So it was murder. I just knew something was wrong…”
“I’m sorry.” But really no news would change the fact that Brent was dead. It certainly wouldn’t bring him back.
“The kids and I would like to extend our stay by a week. I think it’s helping Brent’s parents to have the grandkids to distract them. And I’m not sure I’m ready to face my new reality at home yet. Would you mind keeping Trix for another week?”
Joelle hesitated. “No problem.” There was no sense telling Olivia yet that Trix was missing. She couldn’t do anything about it but worry.
No sooner had she ended the call than she heard a commotion from around the cottage. Myrtle hurried out to the porch. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” The two of them rushed to investigate, arriving in time to see Zak emerge from the trailhead with Vera Cocker—handcuffed—beside him. Behind them was Shawn, cradling a groggy Trix in his arms.
*
Zak was still buzzed on adrenaline as he pulled Vera Cocker out of the forest. She’d put up surprisingly little fight once he’d caught her in his crosshairs. She’d talked nonstop on their trudge through the forest. It was almost like she was proud of what she had done.
They were almost to the stone pathway when Joelle came running toward them, with Myrtle trailing not far behind. Joelle rushed past him to Shawn.
“Trix!” She held out her arms and Shawn passed her the little dog, who wiggled with happiness at being reunited. “Oh my gosh, Trix. I think you’re actually happy to see me! And boy am I glad to see you. Where did you find her?”
“Not far from the blind,” Shawn said. “Sleeping off the drugs Vera gave her.”
“She told me Trix was in the garden shed.” Joelle whirled toward Vera, but the older woman just gave a dismissive shake of her head.
“Thanks for the help out there, Shawn,” Zak said. Then he turned to Joelle. “And thanks to you too. Good work with the bear spray. Vera was still partially incapacitated when we found her.”
Myrtle joined the group, hugging first her son, and then Zak too. “I’m so relieved you boys are okay.” Then she faced Vera. “I had no idea you were such a monster. How could you hurt my Sam? What did he ever do to you?”
“A bleeding heart like you could never understand someone like me,” Vera said. “I’ve had to be tough and strong all my life. Sam was always so devoted to you. You don’t know what it was like to be married to a man like Edward.”
“You divorced him decades ago. How can that excuse what you did to Sam?”
“Fool! Marriage was never the bond that held Edward and me together,” Vera spat out. “Like I said, you’re not capable of understanding.”
“Let’s put you in my back seat and shut you up,” Zak said. He was tired of listening to Vera, who had done nothing but try to justify her actions since she’d been apprehended. She hadn’t shown even a shred of remorse for the crimes she’d committed.
“What about my eyes? They’re still stinging like hell.”
“I’ll get the hose.” Shawn went to the side of the cottage and uncoiled the hose, then opened the tap. He directed the spray directly into Vera’s face. She sputtered but didn’t complain. Frankly Zak wouldn’t have minded having that hose directed at him. It was still so damned hot outside. The thunderstorm had delivered no rain and no relief in temperature either.
“Where’s the team from Missoula?” Joelle asked.
“They’re at the clearing, doing their job. That’s a hell of a crime scene for them to process. Once I’ve got Vera booked and safely behind bars, I’ll come back.” He took an assessing look at Joelle. She seemed to be holding up remarkably well. “I’d like to get a statement from you later today, if you’re up for it.”
“Sure. Now that you’ve got Vera in custody, I think I’ll delay my return to Whitefish.” She glanced at Myrtle. “If that’s okay?”
“It’s more than okay,” Shawn said, putting an arm around her shoulders.
So it’s like that, is it? Zak thought. He was glad for Shawn. Judging from Myrtle’s mushy smile, it was okay with her too.
Chapter Sixteen
Zak spent the entire drive back to Lost Trail on a hands-free call to Nadine, filling her in on the afternoon’s events. Every now and then Vera, shackled in the back seat, snorted. But other than that, she remained quiet.
“I wish I’d been in on the action, but I’m glad you’ve made the arrest and it’s finally over,” Nadine said. “Now you can go home and get some sleep.”
“Not quite.”
Zak had another visit to make before he could allow himself the luxury of sleep. Once he’d taken Vera into lockup, he left Nadine with the paperwork and headed to the Flint Creek Ranch. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see Edward Cocker’s vehicle next to Wyatt’s truck.
He got out of his sheriff-mobile slowly. It had been a long day. Other than the apple he’d grabbed as he’d left the office, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The front door of the old farmhouse opened, and Wyatt stepped out, followed by Amanda, and then Edward. The three stood, a blockade of family solidarity, against him.
He was too tired for this shit. “Wyatt, I need to talk to you.”
But it was Edward who replied. “You’ve taken his mother into custody. Isn’t that enough damage to our family for one day?”
A number of people had witnessed him taking the handcuffed Vera into the station. After that, the word had obviously spread quickly.
“How much damage do you think Vera did to the Brooks family? And the Culvers? And the Wards? I want some answers, Edward. And I want them now.”
The fight went out of Edward. His shoulders sagged and he sank into one of the weather-beaten Adirondak chairs that lined the porch. Amanda put a hand on her husband’s arm, a silent show of support, or encouragement, Zak supposed. And then, with a sigh, Wyatt descended the stairs and stood in front of Zak.
“What do you want to know?”
Zak would have loved to sit down and he sure as hell would have appreciated the offer of a cold beverage. But the Cockers weren’t making even a show of politeness.
“Did you send a blackmail note to Brent Culver, threatening to reveal a photo of the dead body we found in 2009 if he didn’t give you fifty thousand dollars?”
The question hung in the hot summer air for several seconds. And then Wyatt nodded. “I did.”
But before Zak could press for details, Candace came around from the side of the house. The teenager took a stance, hands defiantly on her hips. “Dad didn’t send that letter. I did.”
“Be quiet, Candace.” Wyatt swiveled back to Zak. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
“I do know,” Candace insisted. She looked at her mother. “You guys must have thought I was stupid not to wonder why I look so different from everyone else in the family. You always said Dad was your only boyfriend. But I read your journal years ago and I knew you’d dated a guy named Brent Culver. You had some pictures of him, and I thought I looked a bit like him around the eyes. Plus he was tall, like me.”
“Why didn’t you talk to me about this?” Amanda asked.
“I gave you openings to tell me the truth. But you never did.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I should have been honest. But I wasn’t sure that would be fair to your dad. He loves you so much. In every real sense, he’s been your daddy from day one.”
“What about being fair to me?” Fire glinted in Candace’s gray-blue eyes. Looking at her now, Zak saw how obvious it was. Her coloring, her eyes, her body type—they were nothing like Amanda’s or Wyatt’s.
“When I heard you guys talking about Brent Culver winning the Montana lottery, it made me mad,” Candace continued. “This guy was my dad and he’d never given me anything. I figured he owed me. The first letter I sent was polite. I said I was his long-lost daughter, and I wanted to meet him. But he didn’t even answer.”
The kid looked angry. But also hurt. Zak thought he should explain. “After the lottery win, Brent got a lot of crank letters and calls from people looking for a piece of the pie. I don’t think Brent put two and two together and realized you were Amanda’s daughter. His daughter.”
Wyatt winced, but Candace kept talking. “Whatever. I decided if being nice didn’t work, then I would try to trick the money out of him. I’d read Mom’s story about the body they found that last night. So I pretended I had a picture, and I sent him a letter saying I’d tell if he didn’t give me fifty thousand dollars. But the night I was supposed to meet him, Mom and Dad grounded me over something really stupid. Some chores they said I didn’t do, even though I had!”
“Grandma asked me to ground you,” Wyatt said quietly. “She said she’d heard there was a party being planned that night and that a lot of older guys would be there, with drugs. She begged me to make sure you stayed home.”
“And you believed her?”
“I did.”
Zak felt pity for the man. What would it be like to find out your mother was capable of cold-blooded, premeditated murder? Vera had just needed Wyatt to prevent her granddaughter from getting in the way.
“Did Brent know he was Candace’s biological father?” Zak asked.
“No,” Amanda said.
“You didn’t think you should tell him when he showed up here?”
Amanda looked uncomfortable. “Wyatt and I both knew he deserved the truth. As did Candace. But his visit caught us off guard. Despite our dire financial situation, we didn’t want to seem like we were telling him about his daughter just to get our hands on a portion of that lottery win.”
“What did you and Wyatt think when you heard Brent was killed in a hit-and-run the next day?”
“We were shocked. Horrified. But we thought it was a tragic accident.”
“Quite a coincidence, him dying the day after he came to Lost Trail to make inquiries about an old murder.” Zak turned to Edward. The older man had been taking in the conversation without much outward display of emotion. “What about you, Edward? You were married to Vera when she killed Eve Brooks. Your wife lobbied not to have the profile piece you’d written about Eve published. Then the young woman goes missing. You weren’t suspicious?”
Edward refused to meet his gaze. Instead he bent over his clasped hands. “I knew Vera’s jealousy was getting out of hand. That’s why I asked for the divorce. I never stopped loving the infuriating woman, but I felt it was dangerous to keep living with her.”
“You should have told me, Dad,” Wyatt said.
“I couldn’t. I know she did terrible things. But I always felt I had to protect her.”
“What about Candace?” Amanda wanted to know. “Is she in trouble for writing that note?”
“Technically she’s guilty of attempted extortion. Which is a serious crime.”
Candace’s bravado vanished and fear flickered in her eyes. “Could I go to jail?”
“She’s just a kid,” Wyatt said. “She’s under eighteen.”
“That’s true. And it may help. But I’ll need to speak to the Culver family before I decide whether to pursue an investigation.”
*
As he drove away from the Flint Creek Ranch, Zak placed a hands-free call to Joelle. He wasn’t sure she would answer, but she picked up on the second ring.
“Hi, is that you, Zak?”
“It is. How are you doing?”
“On my second glass of wine and it’s still just sinking in.”
“It might take a few days. How about we postpone getting your statement until tomorrow? Assuming you’ll still be around.”
“Not going anywhere soon,” she assured him. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”
“Not quite. I was just at the Flint Creek Ranch, talking to Wyatt and Candace.”
“Oh?” She sounded apprehensive.
“Turns out it was Candace who sent that blackmail letter.”
“Candace! Really?”
“I could open an investigation into this. Extortion is a pretty serious crime.”
A long silence followed. Then Joelle said, “If Brent hadn’t received that blackmail letter, he’d still be alive.”
“That’s probably true.”
“But Candace had no way of knowing that. She probably felt like her birth father owed her something. And—she’s right about that.”
Zak thought Joelle was being amazingly fair-minded. “But how will your sister see it?”
“Knowing Olivia, it will take her a few days to process. Then she’s probably going to want to meet Candace. She’s the twins’ half sister after all.”
“So you don’t think Olivia will want me to pursue this?”
“Hell no. She’ll probably end up giving Candace money for college.”
“Okay. I hope you’re right about that. I know Candace did a stupid thing. But she’s basically a good kid.”
“Time will tell with that one, Zak.”
He supposed it would.
*
It was almost nine when Zak made it home. He didn’t know what he needed most. A shower, a meal, a drink, or sleep. Nadine had clocked off early to pick up Jett from Tiff’s house. She was folding laundry when he walked into the kitchen, but she abandoned the clothes to give him a hug.
“What a crazy week.”
“I’ll say. Our poor kid has been shunted around like a football. How was he when you picked him up?”
“He was good. Happy. I gave him a bath and read him his stories, and he went right to sleep.”
Zak really wanted to hold his son. But it could wait until morning. Right now hugging his wife was pretty good therapy too. “I need a shower.”
“You do,” she agreed. “But have a beer and some pizza first. The pizza’s still warm—I just took it out of the oven ten minutes ago.”
She sat next to him at the table, and watched as he devoured, one, then two, then three slices.
“I’m still wrapping my mind around Vera being the killer,” she admitted. “For all these years she’s been like a pillar of society, and no one knew.”
