Chapter Seven Marni
Chapter Seven
Marni
“Stop pacing before you wear out the carpet.” Cameron Vincent made the comment as I walked back and forth in front of the
television in his family room. He sat in his oversized puffy-pillowed recliner, watching me without lowering the footrest
or putting down his beer.
People depended on Cam for a few things—a correct prediction of incoming storms and a corresponding this is how much you need to worry assessment, rabid football enthusiasm for the Jets, and a ready speech about how it was never too early in the day for a
Miller Lite.
Cam also possessed a photographic memory of the files of any open murder or missing persons case in Sleepy Hollow and the
surrounding towns and counties. Being a retired detective explained the last one.
None of that stemmed the anxiety currently hammering against my rib cage. I stopped scrambling long enough to double over
with my hands on my thighs. “I can barely breathe.”
I closed my eyes. Tried to inhale. Slowly counted to ten. None of the usual tricks worked.
“That’s enough, Marni.”
Cam also wasn’t a big believer in anxiety. He found the whole idea—the whole mental health industry—made up and had, more than once, droned on about how no one needed meds and therapy back in his day. The man was sixty-seven, not ninety-seven, and never bothered to update his thinking.
When I continued to fight for breath, he sighed and tried again. “Sit and calm down.”
Easy for him to say. “How can I?”
He reached for the remote and turned off whatever program he’d been watching. Also lowered the chair’s footrest. No power
lift for Cam. No, he insisted on pulling the bulky handle on the side. Said the reliable clunking sound soothed him.
He drummed his fingers on the armrest. “You knew this was a possibility. That there could be another round.”
“That’s not true.” Well, it was but I’d spent years mentally outrunning the fear and worry about my past catching up with
me.
“The Tanners were a story without a satisfying ending.” He acted like that reality made this moment better.
“The curiosity surrounding them will never be over. We don’t know where the bodies are, except for Aubrey. Her reappearing
without a word of warning will kick off a tsunami of accusations and outlandish theories. Probably some not so outlandish,
too.” I sat down on the couch, ignoring the rough scratch of the material through my clothes and against my arm.
“Probably.”
Only one of us thrashed around in panic. Cam looked like his usual detached, all will be well Cam. That made me even more anxious. “Aubrey’s sudden reappearance could be a problem for you.”
“I don’t see how. I don’t know anything about what Aubrey did or didn’t do or where she’s been.” He shrugged. “I’d sure as
hell like to know because that case sucked up a lot of energy and resources.”
All the words he didn’t say were the problem. He confined his comments to Aubrey. We were talking about an entire family,
not just one member. He might not know about Aubrey, but I’d bet my small house and even smaller bank account balance that
he did have information on the Tanners that he still hid and refused to share.
The covert behavior was my fault. Well, part of it. I called him that day fifteen years ago. Begged him to come to the Tanner
house and not tell anyone until I could talk with him about what happened.
Ever since my father died I’d relied on Cam for guidance. For a sometimes necessary stern lecture on some topic that plagued
my mind. For the pot roast dinners on Sundays. He’d been my father’s best friend and a driving force in my life from the time
I was in college.
I actually settled in Sleepy Hollow because he lived here. The original plan was to get a teaching job in Connecticut. I picked
this road instead and dealt with the fallout from that mistake every single day since.
“You were the one who investigated the disappearances at the beginning, or did until the FBI stepped in.” I regretted wading
into this topic as soon as I said the words.
His mouth formed a thin line. “I’m aware of what my role was.”
A touchy subject but I didn’t have time to tiptoe through his feelings. “My point is that we—all of us involved even tangentially
with the Tanner family—will come under scrutiny.”
The press attention and public outcry back then had been brutal. After three months on the case without a single lead, Cam’s
boss called for assistance. Cam got edged out right after, leaving what was once a stellar career in shambles. He took early
retirement and spent the next few years running security for a beer distributor, then he left that job, too. Now, he sat and
drank and offered advice, wanted or not.
He eyed me for a few minutes of silence. “Do you know where Aubrey has been?”
What the hell? “Of course not.”
“Victoria was your best friend. Maybe you felt obligated to protect her daughter. Get her out of town. Away from the questions
and the ramifications of her actions.” He stopped talking for a few seconds. “What would you have done to clean up your mess?”
Cam had entered detective mode, shooting questions and comments without giving me a chance to respond. I tried anyway. “How
can you ask that? You know how I was . . . after.”
The staring continued. The only sound in the room came from the light squeak as he rocked the recliner back and forth. “People
assumed you knew more than you admitted. All those doubts will come up again.”
As if I didn’t know that. Why did he think I rushed over here? “It’s looking more and more like Aubrey killed her family,
so at least I won’t be the only one in the spotlight this time.”
“Not necessarily.”
I’d stomped on, shredded, and buried the blurry pieces and faint memories of that day. Or I tried to. I wanted to believe
I’d turned a corner. Became a different person. But stray thoughts would hit me—images I couldn’t shake—and I’d spiral. I
was forty-six and sick of withdrawing from life. Eking out an emotional existence while stuck stagnating in survival mode.
“This is a mess.” I balanced my head against the couch cushions behind me. “The whole situation. That night, what I saw and
how we handled it, could be a problem for both of us.”
“Both?” He delivered the question in a deadly flat tone.
My head shot up again. I could see the last bits of affection drain from his expression. He’d shifted from tolerating my worries
to preparing to fight over them.
Normally, I’d retreat. Regroup and punch down on my feelings. None of that would work this time. Not with Aubrey roaming around
town, waiting to unleash whatever hell she’d been planning. “You were at the Tanner house that day.”
“Because I was the detective assigned to the case.”
“We both know you were at that house long before you got the official call about the blood on the floor.”
Cam shifted in his chair. Not a big move. A subtle repositioning that put his face squarely in front of mine. “Are you threatening
me?”
“Never.” The blood drained from my head. I could feel it drip and pool. A hit of dizziness came next. I grabbed the nearest
pillow and wrapped my arms around it for support. “I’m not doing that. I’m simply asking for help.”
I needed him. I loved him. Sometimes with a mix of fear, other times with a whiff of regret, but always with a twisted father-daughter solidarity.
He sighed. “You need to talk to Stella and Hanna.”
Absolutely not. I dreaded being in their presence again. Seeing the looks on their faces. The blame. “That could backfire.”
“So could ignoring them. You need to control the story.” He leaned forward. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders.
“I know this is scary, but those two ladies must be worried. Worry leads to mistakes. You all need to rein in the panic and
get control. Read over the timeline of events and what you said back then. Be consistent. Do not change any part of your stories.”
Thinking about expending all that emotional energy wiped me out.
He continued. “Get all of the pieces in line before Aubrey Tanner opens her mouth.”
This was the Cam I knew. Tough but fair. Always wanting the best for me, even if it meant putting his reputation on the line.
And that’s exactly what he’d done with the Tanner family disappearance.
Cam had been one of Xavier Tanner’s closest friends and drinking buddies until the night he lost his family and Cam sided
with me. A risky, mostly selfless choice based on my clawing desperation in that moment and a promise he’d made to my dad
decades before about watching over me.
Cam’s actions that night, his ride to my rescue, hung like dead weight between us, dragging us apart and stealing any chance we might have had for equal footing. Always a reminder of what he’d given up and what he’d lost.
“The hard truth is that if one of you is going to break and start talking—” He pointed at me. “Make sure it’s you. Otherwise,
you lose.”