Chapter 18
Bear arrived at our house just past five, as the last of the daylight faded into a pale blue wash behind the pines.
Luka barked once, offering a deep, territorial warning, until I cracked the door open.
The moment Bear stepped into view, Luka’s growl dissolved into an eager wiggle, as if Bear were an old friend.
“Well, that’s a good sign,” Giovanni murmured behind me.
Bear stood on the porch with his hands shoved into the pockets of his black shorts, which seemed an odd clothing choice given it was winter. For such a large man, he seemed unsure how to position himself as he shifted his weight every few seconds.
“Thanks for having me over,” he said, “and for not pressing me to talk at the diner with all our customers around.”
“You bet,” I said. “Come on in.”
He stepped into the foyer, pulling a knit beanie off his head and smoothing his hair with a palm as if trying to make himself presentable. He stood in polite discomfort, like a gentle giant who had crashed a tea party.
Giovanni gestured toward the den. “We’ve been relaxing in here tonight. Make yourself comfortable.”
Bear ducked through the doorway and paused, taking in the room. A fire crackled in the fireplace, giving the space a cozy glow. On the coffee table was a cheese platter with crackers, olives, and a bowl of mixed nuts, sitting beside my glass of champagne and Giovanni’s whisky.
Bear remained standing until Giovanni motioned toward the sofa.
“Please,” Giovanni said, “sit.”
Bear eased down.
The sofa creaked under his weight, though it held.
“You all right?” Giovanni asked.
Bear attempted a nod, but his twitching hands betrayed him.
“I don’t want to intrude,” he said. “And I don’t want any trouble.”
“You’re not intruding,” I said. “And you’re not in trouble.”
Luka wandered over, sniffed Bear’s boot, then pressed his head against Bear’s thigh with a soft grunt. Bear froze, then let out a deep breath.
“Huh,” he said. “Guess he likes me.”
“Luka knows good people,” Giovanni replied, taking a seat on a chair beside me.
Bear gave Luka an awkward pat, and Luka responded by thumping his tail against the rug.
After a moment, Bear cleared his throat. “I know you offered to have me come over for a drink when you were at the diner, and I said no to the drink, but … I wouldn’t mind one now. If it’s still all right.”
“Of course,” Giovanni said, rising. “Whisky?”
“Yes, please.”
Giovanni poured a glass and handed it to him. Bear took a sip, then another, his shoulders lowering as the warmth settled in.
“All right,” he said. “Ask whatever you need to ask.”
I folded my hands in my lap. “At the restaurant, I told you Glinda and Anne saw a man in their neighborhood right before Anne went missing, someone matching your description. Anne’s mother, Violet, also saw a man sitting in a truck outside her sister’s house, and she believes it was the same person. Was that man you?”
Bear stared into his glass, swirling the whisky once before answering. “Yes.”
Giovanni sat back, absorbing what Bear had just admitted, though his expression remained calm.
“Why were you there?” I asked.
“It’s a long story.”
“We have time,” I said.
Bear looked into the fire, the flames flickering across his face. “My mother died twenty-six years ago,” he said. “Before she passed, she told me something she’d kept secret for most of her life. She said I deserved to know the truth.”
“The truth about what?” I asked.
“She told me that Violet and Glinda’s father … well, she said he was my father too.”
I exchanged a glance with Giovanni but remained silent.
“My mother told me she and their father had an affair decades ago,” he said. “It wasn’t long-term. It wasn’t serious. Just one of those things that shouldn’t have happened but did.”
“Before she told you the truth, who did you believe your father to be?”
“The man who raised me. He came into the picture when my mother was pregnant. I thought it was strange, the fact he was so small and, well, I’m not, but I never questioned it.”
“Did Violet and Glinda’s father know about you?”
“Doubt it. My mother said she never told him.”
“I assume that’s the reason you were seen at Glinda’s house all those years ago,” I said.
He nodded. “I just wanted to … I don’t know … I wanted to see them, to see where I came from and if they looked like me. I never knew they were worried about who I was, but I understand now why they would be.”
“How often were you in Glinda’s neighborhood?”
“It was just a few times,” Bear admitted. “I thought maybe I’d get the courage to knock on the door and introduce myself. But then Anne went missing, and everyone panicked. I realized it wasn’t the right moment to show up and say, ‘Hey, I might be your half-brother.’”
“And then Anne was never found.”
“She wasn’t, and after the dust settled and the years passed, it felt too late to step into their lives, so I kept the truth to myself. Aside from my mother and the man who raised me, Billy is the only other person who knows the truth.”
“That’s why he put in a good word for you today,” Giovanni said.
Bear nodded. “He’s a decent man.”
I studied him, thinking about what to say next. “Did you ever have any interaction with Anne?”
“No, I never spoke to her, and we never met. Like I said, I wasn’t in that neighborhood often, and when I was, I kept to myself. When she went missing, I felt sick for the family, but believe me when I say I had nothing to do with that girl’s disappearance.”
I believed him.
Every word.
Nothing about what he just said was deceptive. He seemed like a man with past regrets, a man who lived alone with a truth he didn’t know how to share.
“Do you have any idea what happened to Anne?” I asked.
“None,” he said. “If I did, I would have told someone long ago. I know what it feels like to lose family. I wouldn’t let someone else go through that if I could help them out somehow.”
Bear was a dead end, but I found myself satisfied that it turned out the way it had. His story didn’t solve Anne’s disappearance or Audrey’s murder, but it filled in another part of the puzzle.
The cabin.
The land.
The family connection.
A man who belonged to the same bloodline but lived outside it.
Bear shifted in his seat, setting the empty glass on the side table. “I should go. I’ve already taken up enough of your evening.”
“You can stay for as long as you need,” Giovanni said.
Bear shook his head, rising. “Thank you for listening.”
I stood as well. “Bear, there’s something I’d like you to consider before you leave. Violet has lost a sister and a daughter. Don’t you think she deserves the chance to know her family, even if it’s someone coming into her life whom she didn’t expect?”
He froze, placing his hand on the back of the sofa.
“You don’t have to tell her now,” I said, “and you don’t ever have to tell her. But she might welcome the chance to get to know you. People find strength in connection, even when the past is complicated.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“If you decide to let her know, I’d be happy to make the introductions.”
He offered me a small, pained smile and walked to the door, Luka trailing after him. After he left, Giovanni cleared the glasses and plates, and we extinguished the fire and headed to bed.
But tonight, sleep felt far away.
There were too many scattered pieces.
Too many shadows.
Too many unanswered questions.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying Violet’s trembling voice, Bear’s confession, and the echo of Anne’s name which seemed to be at every turn.
I needed clarity, and I knew where I intended to find it tomorrow, at Rosemary Ashford’s house.
I’d update her on the case and then ask to search Audrey’s room.
Somewhere inside that room I hoped to find a clue, one Audrey never had the chance to share.
A clue that might help me understand what happened to Anne and what led to Audrey’s death.