Chapter 48
FORTY-EIGHT
SUMMER
The sheriff answers on the first ring, “Indy.”
“It’s Summer, you called?” I say, unable to think of a more appropriate response. I’m not sure there is one to be honest.
“I did,” she begins. “I wanted to let you know Vincent is in custody until he can be processed into the care of the psychiatric ward he escaped from. I contacted his parents and they had no idea he was even gone from the facility.”
“How could they have not known, it’s been years?” I’m baffled at the clear lack of empathy these people seem to have for one of their children.
Hartley sighs through the line, and I feel like I can hear her exhaustion over this whole mess in her voice when she says, “Some people don’t like to think about things that make them uncomfortable.
It’s not right, but it’s the truth.” The words ring true as I take them in and finally understand that’s why Val never told me about Vincent.
“What about Finn and Molly?” I ask, uncaring there are so many eyes focused on me right now. They probably want to know too. These people have become like family, and I suddenly find my throat thick with emotion.
She chuckles before clearing her throat, “We found both of them, they’re safe, but they also have some explaining to do.”
I pause, thinking about all the things that have been done to me and these people. “Uh, sheriff,” I blurt, “would it be possible for me to see him?”
I can tell she wasn’t expecting that by the sharp inhale on the other line. Indy also gives me a tilt of her head, but seeing my face and how serious I am, she nods.
“Well, I guess it’s possible, but Summer–”
“I need to know why,” I tell her, holding on to Indy’s hand like a life line. “I have to know.”
“Okay,” Hartley says, “I’ll arrange it.”
Giving her my thanks, we hang up and I let out a breath. Everyone looks at me as I scan the room, but I have to know. Maybe I can finally close that chapter of my life and move on.
“Are you sure about this?” Indy asks from the driver’s side of her truck. We’re sitting outside of the police station, and though it’s only been three days, it feels like eons have passed since everything went down with Vincent.
“Summer,” she says gently, rubbing her hand up and down my thigh. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I do. I have to know,” I tell her, and I’m sure she’s curious too.
She nods and opens her door, I follow suit, stepping out and meeting her on her side of the truck.
Hartley’s there waiting at the front door.
“And you’re positive this is what you want to do?
” Indy looks to me and I nod, as we all walk into the police station.
“We have him in a cell, and he’s handcuffed, so he shouldn’t be able to reach through the bars.
I’ll be right by the door should you need me. ”
With a swallow, we follow Hartley down a hallway, all the way to the end where she has to type in a code on the door to get in.
“I’m gonna stay out here, if that’s okay.” Indy says, stopping at the door. “Unless you need me.”
I understand her fear. The rage she felt about hiring someone who had hurt, and terrorized her employees. How sick with guilt she was after everything came out. I don’t want to give her a reminder if I don’t have to.
“I understand,” kissing her lips, she sighs and turns back around.
“Indy, you can wait in my office,” Hartley says around me, and Indy turns to look over her shoulder and smiles.
That was awfully nice of her, I think, as I go through the open door.
“Listen Summer, I really would like to talk with you after–” she starts, but the door shuts and clicks with a buzzer sound overhead.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the murdering whore herself,” Vincent spits. “Come to see another Brown ruined by you?”
His eyes are bloodshot, his voice is gravelly as if he’s been yelling, and his hair is disheveled and oily.
His usually clean shaven jaw is dotted with stubble, and his gray jumpsuit does nothing for the sallow parlor of his skin.
He’s favoring his left arm, probably because he dislocated his shoulder when he fell from the window.
Stepping closer, I pause and turn back to Hartley “What’s that smell?”
“He refuses the shower,” she says with a shrug.
Nodding, I continue until I’m in front of the cell bars. He smiles when he sees me hesitate to go closer, lips crawling up his face making his cheeks squish and grow.
“You don’t scare me,” I tell him, surprised at how firm my voice sounds. How unwavering it is.
He laughs, sitting down in front of the bars crossing his legs in front of him, and placing his good hand on his knee. “Yet, you’re all the way over there.”
“I want answers,” I state simply.
“And you think I’m willing to gab with you? Like some ridiculous little sleepover with sweets and all the soda you could drink?” His laugh ratchets up, growing in volume. “How about you give me your answers, Summer Blair Holt. What about those?”
His pupils are blown, and he’s clearly manic. I don’t know how he hid it so well. But then again…
“Was Val ever diagnosed with anything other than anxiety and depression?” I ask, connecting the look in his eyes, to the one Val had when she was plunging the knife into the bed.
He scoffs, “There was nothing wrong with Val, she was perfect, before you ruined her.”
“Me?” I ask, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. I don’t want to give him anything to latch on to.
“You drove her away from me,” he growls, “you poisoned her against me. Did you know she was the only one out of my whole family that would even talk to me? She wrote me letters, I have them all. You can ask Sheriff Barbie over there.”
I don’t want to believe a word he says. “She wrote you letters? How do I know you’re not just making this up?”
“483 Pine Top Road,” he says, closing his eyes and inhaling. “Every time she sent them, they smelled like rain and soil.”
That’s our old address, I haven’t heard it in so long my nose starts to burn and I sit against the far wall where there’s a metal bench. Everything in here is so gray, dark gray, light gray. I don’t have anywhere to look but at him.
“I want to know why you would go after the Turners.” I demand, “Val’s not coming back, and that’s on her.”
His hands raise, clamping around the bars in front of him, the shiny handcuffs glint off the fluorescent lights and he snarls.
“Don’t you dare blame her! If you hadn’t bewitched her, she would still be here.
She would be happy and perfect. You’re doing the same thing to Indy, I saw it happen, and I tried to warn her.
Twice I tried, but she didn’t listen. She. Didn’t. Listen.”
“Val killed herself! She tried to kill me,” I snap. “How–”
“NO!” He shouts, surging to his feet gripping the metal bars between us with such ferocity his knuckles turn white. “She wouldn’t leave me. You killed her and that fucking cop covered it up. I know it.”
Shaking my head, I realize that I won’t be getting any answers. Even if I tell him everything that happened I don’t think it will be enough. Not for him, he really believes Val’s death was my fault…
“She loved me, and she knew I was coming. I was almost there,” he says, choking on a sob. “When I arrived, there were police, fire trucks blocking the road… and you! Sitting in the back of an ambulance with a far away look on your face. But there was no Val.”
Wait, he was there that night?
“That’s when I realized you killed her. You set the fire. You made everyone think Val was unstable, but she wasn’t. She was excited for me to visit. She loved me… she was the only one who loved me, and you took her from me!”
He’s screaming now, but I’m still so confused. If Val truly was writing to him, and was excited he was visiting, why did she seem so terrified?
“I didn’t even know about you, did you know that? She was supposed to take me away, and take care of me. I had no idea Val was engaged. My sister kept that from me, and I knew everything about her. Everything!”
“She didn’t tell you about me…” I whisper, staring down at the floor as I piece together the parts of the puzzle I’d been missing.
“When did you tell her you were coming?” My memories of that night play out in my head, and I try focusing on things I wouldn’t normally. Begging my mind to close the gaps.
“I was already en route when I mailed the letter, it was postmarked from the US, I thought she’d figure it out.
We would have arrived on the same day, the letter and I.
” His smile spreads again, as if he’s picturing the happy reunion he so craved.
“I could picture us reuniting, it was going to be beautiful, but then… it wasn’t. ”
My mind is reeling, everything snapping into place perfectly.
“She didn’t know you planned to show up at our house.
That’s why she never told me about you, you were never supposed to exist outside of whatever letters she sent.
Your whole family acted like you didn’t exist.” Raising my eyes to him, a small laugh falls out of my mouth. “She… panicked.”
When I blink, a tear I hadn’t noticed, falls and hits my hand. “Oh my God, you killed her. She did everything she did because she knew I would have questions about a brother that shouldn’t exist. A brother that she was ashamed of. A brother that was Just. Like. Her.”
“Val was nothing like me, she was an angel. We spent our childhood together, but then our parents took her away from me. I was going to reunite us again, but you wrecked everything.”
“Oh my God, Val. She must’ve gotten better and that’s why your parents got her out of the facility. But then when you said you were coming, she snapped.” Running a hand through my hair, I stand, pacing the floor beside his cage.