Chapter 36 The Red Herring
the red herring [trope]
the sneaky little narrative decoy designed to make you side-eye the wrong suspect, often equipped with suspicious hobbies (e.g.
, taxidermy) or a conveniently timed alibi gap; exists solely to mislead readers who were so sure they’d cracked the case; will inevitably turn out to be innocent—just really, really bad at looking it
The courtroom feels smaller today.
My heart pounds against my ribs, and my hands won’t stop shaking. I glance at the clock, then at the door, praying that Ethan will walk through it any second now. He has to. But every time I look, the door stays shut, and the knot in my stomach tightens.
Across the aisle, my grandparents sit stiffly, their expressions as cold and hard as ever. Their lawyer is smug, confidence oozing from his every pore. He knows, just as I do, that without Ethan’s testimony, I don’t stand a chance.
The judge has asked about him twice already, and each time, Steve has lied, saying Ethan’s on his way, buying us more time. But there’s doubt in the judge’s eyes, like her patience is wearing thin.
My phone is clutched in my hand, and I try Ethan again, to no avail. Each unanswered call sends another wave of panic through me. I can’t lose this. I can’t lose him. Not after I gave up Rafael. Not after he left.
“Ms. Moore.” The judge’s voice cuts through the fog of my anxiety. “I’ll ask this just one more time. Where is your brother?”
Steve jumps in before I can answer. “He’s on his way, Your Honor. Just a little delayed.”
The judge’s expression is skeptical, her eyes narrowing slightly. “If he’s not here soon, we’ll have to move forward without him.”
My throat is too tight to allow me to speak. Steve meets my gaze, his eyes urging me to stay calm, but I don’t know what to do. I feel helpless, and this time, Rafael isn’t here to make it better.
I’m all alone.
Just when I’m about to lose hope, the doors at the back of the courtroom creak open.
I whip my head around, and there he is—Ethan, walking in with that familiar determined stride.
Relief crashes over me as he steps past me, his focus entirely on the stand at the front of the courtroom.
When his eyes finally land on me, he hesitates before stepping up to the stand.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he faces the judge. There’s an apology in his eyes when he glances at me again, but before I can process it, Steve clears his throat and approaches Ethan.
“Ethan, can you please tell the court about your relationship with your sister, Scarlett?”
My brother’s gaze flicks to mine, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. “Yes, I can. But before I do, I’d like the judge to know something.” He turns to her and swallows hard. “I… I’m gay.”
I breathe out, not knowing whether to feel proud that he’s come out or ashamed that he’s basically been forced to. This is not what I expected, not what we planned. He deserves better than this. Better than having to do it in a courtroom, because of them.
“My sister knows this,” Ethan continues, his voice gaining strength.
“And she could have won this trial just by telling you the truth, which is that my grandparents don’t accept my sexual orientation.
They’re homophobic. They’ve refused to let me come out, tried to keep me from my boyfriend, and now want to send me away so they won’t have to face public judgment. ”
He looks directly at the judge. “I wanted to live with my sister even before this came up, but that’s what caused the urgency. And my sister has known I’m gay, but she never said a word. She gave me the chance to come to her when I was ready, and she’s done everything she could for me.”
The courtroom fades away as I watch him. He’s baring his soul here, and I can’t imagine how difficult this is.
“And Rafael Gray? He helped me when he didn’t even know me. He supported me and my sister, and with him, I finally saw her be selfish, like everyone should be once in a while. I saw her happy. I saw her open herself up to new things. I saw her be… heroic.”
I shake my head, as if trying to tell him it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to do this.
“And instead of being happy for her”—Ethan’s voice breaks, and he swipes at his eyes—“I screamed at her. I pushed her, and I told her I hated her.”
He’s crying now, his hands trembling as he looks at me. “I’m so sorry. You took me in even though nobody expected you to. You paused your life for me, told me one day we’d be here, and I just treated you so bad. I pushed you away because you dared to find some happiness.”
“No, Ethan,” I whisper. I want to run to him, to tell him he’s forgiven, that I love him, but I’m afraid the judge will scold me like last time, and we’ve got too much on the line for that.
Ethan turns to the judge, his voice stronger now, though it still wavers with emotion. “Look at her.”
The judge turns to me, her brows furrowing slightly as she studies my face. I know I look terrible. I haven’t eaten or slept, and I’m barely holding it together.
“She broke things off with Rafael. My grandparents’ lawyer twisted her life, her relationship, her work, and she didn’t think about herself or the man she has feelings for.
She only thought about me. And she’s a mess, but she’s here.
She didn’t go back to Rafael. She’s fighting for me, even though I was a little bitch—”
“Language, Mr. Moore,” the judge interrupts sternly.
Ethan flushes. “Sorry, Your Honor. What I meant is that my sister loves me, and I never need to deserve her love. It’s not something she chooses to feel, something she can dole out.
Even when it kills her, she still puts me first. That’s why I want to live with her.
Not just because she’s okay with me being gay, but because she accepts me, no matter what.
Because she’s my role model, she’s my family, and she’s my hero. ”
The courtroom falls into a heavy silence, and the judge looks moved, her gaze softening as she regards him. “Thank you, Mr. Moore,” she says quietly. “Are there any further questions for this witness?”
My grandparents’ lawyer shakes his head, clearly rattled by Ethan’s testimony. “No, Your Honor.”
“In that case, we’ll take a short recess and return with a decision.”
As the judge stands and the courtroom stirs, Ethan leaves the stand and walks straight to me.
I can’t hold it in any longer. The moment he reaches me, I collapse into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
He holds me tight, his voice gentle in my ear.
“I’m so sorry, Scarlett. You’ve done everything for me, and I’ve been such an idiot.
But it’s okay now. We’ll be okay no matter what. ”
His words are a lifeline, something solid to cling to in the storm of emotions. He strokes my hair, his tears wetting my shoulder. “Just this once, Scarlett,” he murmurs. “Just this once, you can break down. I’ll hold you up.”
And for the first time, I let myself lean on him, let myself be weak. Ethan’s definitely strong enough to hold me up.
“To Scarlett and Ethan, reunited at last!” Celeste says as she cheers.
Everyone raises their glass and drinks, and almost mechanically, so do I, watching the faces of people I love as they come to congratulate me.
We won.
It still doesn’t seem real. I can almost feel Ethan’s hand gripping mine, hear the judge say that the best interest of my brother lies in his being in my care.
It was like my breath had been trapped in my chest for months, only to be released all at once.
Ethan’s tears of relief. The way my grandparents got out of there without so much as a glance our way.
We actually won. Ethan is now in my temporary custody, and until the judge sets a follow-up hearing, we’re done. We live together, and no one can tell him how to live his life. He’s free.
I watch him next to Jace, and despite the casual stance, I can tell they’re flirting. I think I like his boyfriend—the way he looks at my brother. Maybe soon he’ll feel like he can be more obvious about it.
“Congratulations again, Scarlett!” Jennifer from the bakery says as she approaches the table with food. I raise my glass in a silent thank-you, then let my eyes roam.
I know I should be thankful for this. Half the town must be squeezed at The Oak, and more are drinking outside. They all showed up for me, wanting to celebrate this moment, and all I can focus on is the one person who’s missing. The one person who’s gone.
Left this morning, Mrs. Prattle said. The new homeowners will be here in a couple of weeks.
“Scarlett!”
I turn around, locating Steve, who elbows his way through the crowd until he’s in front of me. “Steve, my hero!” I cheer, cutting through the noise as he leans forward for a quick hug.
“Oh, please.” He waves off the compliment. “The real hero was Ethan. What he did today was really brave.”
“It really was. But seriously, without you—”
“Don’t even mention it.” He cuts me off before I can finish.
I persist. “Look, I know what Celeste said, but you deserve compensation. Let me—”
“Scarlett.” His blue eyes glint with a hint of affection. “Please, forget about it, okay? Your mom… I could never accept money from you. Not for this.”
I feel the lump in my throat rise. “At least let me buy you a drink,” I say, then gesture to the tables piled high with food. “And take something to eat. The whole town’s been cooking.”
“Thank you, but I just came in to congratulate you and your brother.” His smile quickly turns sour. “Between you and me, I’d rather stay as far away as possible from my wife and her boy toy.”
His words land like a slap. Her what?
I glance over at Celeste, who’s laughing with Theo and Paige at a table nearby as Quentin pours them drinks. He can’t mean Theo, can he? Picturing him with Celeste feels less natural than seeing Sherlock with a labradoodle.
“Anyway, congratulations again.”
“Thank you, Steve,” I manage, hugging him one more time. As he walks toward my brother, my gaze flicks back to Celeste. Nah. There’s absolutely no way she’s having an affair with Theo.
“Hey, stranger.”
I flinch at the voice, snapping out of my spiral to find Quentin standing beside me with a pitcher of beer. Like a flash before my eyes, I see the recording of Sherlock’s camera that caught him tripping over the garden gnome. “Hey, hi,” I say, straightening.
“Congratulations,” he says, but it almost feels empty. “I didn’t know you were doing all of this, but it’s really cool. You must be happy.”
“And relieved,” I say. Rafael is right—Quentin can’t be behind these murders. “Thank you for hosting us tonight.”
He waves me off, then holds his hand out. “I found this the other day, and… I don’t know.” I look down, tentatively taking the framed picture. “I figured you might like to have it. Uncle John kept it in his office in the back.”
I glance at the picture, my heart skipping a beat.
It’s my mom, my dad, Celeste, and Rafael’s father, all smiling at The Oak, wearing matching gray T-shirts with what I can now tell is a tree printed on the front.
I recognize them instantly, although the print isn’t faded like it is now. “The broccoli shirt.”
“Excuse me?”
I point at the picture. “My parents, they used to wear those shirts and do a silly little dance to get my brother to eat his vegetables. They called them the broccoli shirts.”
“Oh.” Quentin laughs, pointing at the picture. “Well, it’s technically an oak tree, not broccoli. Apparently, there was a big snowstorm on opening day, so some of Uncle John’s staff didn’t show. Your parents and Celeste offered to help. He must’ve given them the shirts as a thank-you.”
My stomach knots the moment his words register. The witness who saw the killer come out of Catherine’s apartment described a gray shirt with a tree print on the front. Could they have meant this shirt?
“He never got around to making more for the employees.” He wipes the table next to us. “Which, if you ask me, is a blessing, ’cause I can wear whatever I want.”
I blink, nodding through his story. There are four shirts in this picture. Two of them are at my place; one I wore at Rafael’s house. There’s only one missing.
Celeste’s.
I look up at Quentin, the blood freezing in my veins.
Between you and me, I’d rather stay as far away as possible from my wife’s boy toy.
I thought Steve was looking at Theo, but Quentin was serving him a drink, wasn’t he? Quentin. Quentin is Celeste’s boy toy. That must be why he was so mysterious about seeing someone—because that someone is technically still married.
You wanna bet the two of them secretly meet at the Wildflower Inn?
“Scarlett, are you okay?”
“I, uh, yes. Yes, I’m sorry. I just…” I turn, making sure I still have eyes on Ethan as I hand Quentin back the picture. “I think I need a good night of sleep. The tension this week has been…”
“Oh, yeah. I get it.”
I step back, heart thrumming. “See you, Quentin.”
His voice calls for me again before I can take a step. I turn around, cautiously waiting for what he’ll say next. “You didn’t take the picture.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” I grip the frame. “Thank you.”
“You got it.” I can feel his eyes on me as I turn and walk away, but I ignore him, walking to Paige and Theo. Celeste’s not with them anymore, and my pulse thrums in my ears as I reach Paige near the buffet table, then grab her arm. “Hey. I need you to take Ethan home.”
She frowns, setting down her drink. “Right now? This party is for you.”
“Right now.” I swallow, tightening my hold on her arm. “Please.”
She studies my face, and she must see something desperate in it, because she says, “Okay, yes. Of course.”
Theo joins us, his brows knitting together. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I need to leave. Please go with Paige. Take Ethan and Jace, and stay at my place.”
“Scarlett, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” Paige says, but I’m already walking toward the exit, my heart pounding as I step into the cool night air.
What is happening is that I think I just figured out Quentin’s motive.