Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
“Sorry,” Keith says, standing in the living room. “I wanted to check on you.”
My quickening pulse doesn’t slow with his words or the fact he didn’t knock. I scan him up and down. Is there something different about him, or is it my imagination enhanced by everyone’s warnings?
Keith takes a step closer and tilts his head toward the back door. “Better lock that.”
Nodding, I turn and double check. It’s locked and the bolt is secure. When I turn again, Keith is standing at the breakfast bar, with his back to me, looking toward the lake. “I’m leaving in the morning.” His voice sounds defeated.
There’s something else, something odd in his demeanor.
I want to ask him about the girls, if any of them came on to him, but instead, I answer him. “That would probably be best. What about your quest?”
“I came up cold with the sheriff. This town isn’t giving up its secrets. I feel so helpless and useless. Maybe it’s better for all the Gilberts to leave.”
“Serena and Joey?” I ask.
Keith turns my way. “Everyone needs a fresh start.”
“Did you follow up with Sheriff Manes?”
“Yeah, to no avail. When I first arrived, before Craig was found, Manes was open to hearing from me. Now, he’s closed off. I think it’s all of it, the girls and the inclusion of the county and state departments. Manes is used to being in control, and now he feels boxed in.”
“But you did talk to him again today. Did he offer any new information on the camera? Does he know where it came from?”
Keith walks around the breakfast bar into the kitchen, only a few feet away. “Jill, if that camera belongs to the person who hurt your sister and killed Marty, then you’re in danger. I should never have taken you out to the memorial.”
“You said you met the girls. What did you think of them?”
“That they are kids,” he says.
“Did they...come on to you?”
“If you mean did they flaunt their stuff, yes. I’m not my brother. Girls that age aren’t my fuel.”
Sexual assault isn’t about sex; it’s about power.
I take a step back, my sense of unease growing in the pit of my stomach.
I tilt my head toward the back door. “That was just my sister—Liv. She invited me to her place. I’m going to put a few things in a bag and head up to Three Rivers.
” I hadn’t planned to go, but I can’t shake the feeling from everyone else’s concerns.
Keith’s expression changes. “You are?”
“Yes, I’m going to leave soon. It’ll be nice to spend some time with her. She’s the only one in the family who’s reached out to me since my dad...”
“I thought I heard...” He shakes his head. “Good. You should go.” He turns back to the bar and lays his hand on my closed computer. “Have you come up with anything more from the pictures from the Mills County Coroner?”
“I did, but I need to get to Olivia’s; she’s expecting me.” I feign a smile. “If you give me your email, I can send you my findings.”
Beyond the front screen door, the sun finally set, and velvety black darkness is overtaking the sky.
Keith’s gaze goes to the bottle of wine on the counter. “That’s not the same bottle from last night.”
“No. I shared this bottle with Liv.” I lift the bottle. “Unfortunately, we finished the whole thing.” I see my unfinished iced tea. “I have tea if you’d like some?”
He shakes his head. Keith’s boots clip on the tile floor as he walks to the front screen door and looks out at the lake. “After the sheriff’s, I went to Serena’s house.” His tone is so soft, I strain to hear.
“I thought you two didn’t get along.”
Keith pushes his hands down into the pockets of his blue jeans, still facing away. “I took an oath.”
“To serve and protect,” I say, recalling the words from a hundred different scripts.
He nods before turning toward me. His expression is unreadable as if too many emotions are vying for top billing. “Sometimes the answers are right in front of us, but we don’t want to see them.”
“Did the two of you go to the bonfire together?”
My question seems to register. “I met her there. I didn’t think she should have gone. She doesn’t care what I think. I left.”
“What’s right in front of us? Are you talking about Craig or the girls?”
“My brother was a manipulating piece of shit.”
“It’s clear you didn’t see eye to eye.”
Pulling his hand from his pocket, Keith runs his fingers through his dark blond hair. “I don’t think Blue Gil understands the depth to his depravity or the lingering effects it caused.”
“Maybe they don’t want to know. They want to remember him as the coach who took Blue Gil to greatness.”
Keith’s jaw clenches as the tendons in his neck pull tight. “He got off on fooling people. He’s done it his whole life. You should have seen him as a kid. He’d lie straight-faced to our mom or dad. They never saw it.”
“Some people are born pathological liars.” I minored in psychology. It’s given me knowledge, helpful with what I do.
“A person can only take so much.”
“Who?” I ask.
“You weren’t the first or last person Craig cheated with after he and Serena married.”
“Keith, I don’t want to rehash that.”
He scoffs. “I never wanted to fuck his leftovers, but you’re special.”
Leftovers.
Special.
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t want to be special.” With the turkey sandwich churning in my stomach, I reach for the partial glass of tea. The ice is gone and the contents are warm. Still, I hope it will soothe my nerves. Before I can take a drink, Keith’s voice garners my attention.
“Oh, but you are. You changed everything,” he says.
Without drinking, I put down the glass. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He tilts his head toward the front of the cottage. “Out there the other day, as soon as I realized who you were, I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Craig called me for legal advice. I suppose he thought a cop could give him that.”
“Keith, please—” I don’t want to discuss this with him.
“You had him scared. Two years here and he was afraid he’d be fired from another job.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” My nerves feel tight enough to snap. I can’t help but wonder if I was wrong about Keith, if maybe there is more to him. “It’s over, water under the bridge.”
“But it isn’t. He fucked her up. You need to know that Serena found out about him.”
“Craig? She found out about her husband?” I ask, trying to keep up and praying that I’m right.
“The boy. Your and Craig’s kid.” Keith turns and takes a step toward me. “She told me today. She’s been going through things and found documents from the adoption attorney you used in California.”
A million memories bombard my thoughts.
A baby.
A boy.
Your and Craig’s kid.
In a flash, I recall it all. The real reason I couldn’t attend my best friend’s wedding, the last conversation I had with my grandma, and why my father hates me.
I push the memories away.
“Jill?” Keith says, closing the space between us. “Are you listening?”
I reach for the warm tea and work to concentrate on the here and now. “Yes.”
“She found the correspondence that Craig signed, relinquishing paternity.”
I didn’t want to include Craig in any of the legalities.
The attorney convinced me to name the baby’s paternity, saying that if I didn’t, one day the seed donor could come back and claim his rights.
As if he had any. Craig did nothing other than plant a seed.
I was the one who nourished and cared for it—for him—for nearly forty weeks of gestation.
I lay my hand over my midsection, my stomach churning.
“Why does she care—now?” I ask. “He’s an innocent child. ”
Keith’s stare darkens. “Her husband is dead, and she just found out that someone else gave Craig a son before her. In her eyes, no one is innocent.” He comes closer and reaches for my shoulders. “Listen to me. I came here tonight to warn you.”
“Keith, I really need to get to Liv’s. I think we should talk later. Call me when you’re on the road.”
Releasing me, he shakes his head and walks to the front door. I stand perfectly still as he closes and locks the glass door and turns back. We’re now locked in this cottage—together. “Before I leave, I want you to understand what I’m telling you. Serena is dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” I nod. “Okay. Do you think she’s the one who hurt Craig?”
“I think people in this town know exactly what happened to Craig, and they aren’t telling. I also think I’ve underestimated the degree to which Craig’s behavior damaged Serena.”
“Damaged? Hurt her...as in physically?” In none of my recollections was Craig ever violent. He was attentive and affectionate; it was part of his charm.
“No,” Keith replies. “Craig was too conniving for that. Physical abuse leaves visible marks. Mental and emotional are worse. They mess with the psyche until the victim can’t think straight.”
“Victim—Serena?”
“I refuse to think of her as a victim.” Paraphrasing Liv.
He nods. “After I talked to Manes about the camera again today, I remembered my dad saying something about Serena installing a new home-security system. That’s why I went to her house.”
My gaze goes to Keith’s. “You think Serena set up that camera?”
Momentarily, my thoughts overpower the present. I think back to the two of us at the memorials. If she set up the camera, she knows who dumped Marty.
I take a long drink of the warm tea.
Keith is talking. “...you will be aware, and because of that boy. Like I said, she knows about him. If she found him...”
“Boy? Why would she look for him?”
He shakes his head as he grips the counter. “Someone needs to contact his parents. They should know. There’s something about her, Jill. I can’t put my finger on it—exactly. Whatever it is, it’s been going on since Joey was born, but now...it’s more intense. It’s like she snapped.”
“Snapped?”
I suck in a breath. The unease in my stomach is growing stronger. The contents churn. I stand and stumble backward.
“Jill, how much did you drink?”
My gaze goes to Keith and I lose focus.
It’s as if I’m peering through the lens of a fun-house mirror. My pulse thumps harder. I can’t shake the reality that he’s locked us in here together, that he’s talking about sanity and death. He’s talking about my son.
Leftover—special.
The words repeat in my head.
My attention goes to the room around me. Everything is still out of sync. I see the drawer, the one that I know holds knives.
I’m not sure I can fight off a man of Keith’s size, but I know I’ll try. This is no longer just about me but about my boy. That realization gives me strength.
Stumbling toward the cabinets, I reach for the pull on the kitchen drawer, yet I don’t open it. I look up at the man a few feet away. “Keith, I think you shouldgo.” My words come out jumbled.
“Jill.”
I open my mouth to ask about the girl in Marquette, the one Theo told me about, but I have difficulty making my mouth work, moving my lips and tongue.
He’s moving toward me as if in slow motion.
I give up on the possibility of fighting.
Instead of a knife, I reach for my car keys from the counter and bolt toward the back door.
My shaking hands make the lock difficult to turn.
Keith’s body is behind mine. His hands on mine...helping me...or hindering my escape?
The world fades away.
A distant voice.
“Jillian.”
The voice saying my name is wrong.
Instead of a masculine tone, it’s my mom or my grandmother...
The woman’s voice is the last thing I remember.