Chapter Twenty-Five Marni
Chapter Twenty-Five
Marni
Stella and I spun around. A figure sprinted across the far end of the grounds along the edge of the pond, following the fence
line and disappearing behind an outcropping of stones, into a nest of trees.
The body build looked male, but the all-black outfit suggested the person had dressed to hide their appearance. That meant
the trespasser could be anyone.
We all watched. Hanna jumped to her feet. We moved in a huddle away from the fountain and the pool. Deeper into the property,
filled with a wealth of subtle hills and valleys. Perfect for hiding.
“Someone being nosy or a reporter? Maybe a kid, hoping to rob the place.” The timing didn’t make sense on that last one, but
I said it anyway. “Even though it’s light outside, which I admit sounds odd.”
“Could it be Aubrey?” Stella asked as she strained and scanned.
I didn’t put anything past Aubrey. She absolutely was the type to stalk her grandfather’s home and cause a new round of trouble, but pinning this on her seemed like a stretch. Why sneak in? She probably had a key or maybe not. Who the hell knew?
“We should follow the person,” I suggested.
Stella snorted. “And do what? Throw a shoe at them?”
Without thinking or agreeing, we walked from the safety of the house and the cars. Not running but not hesitating. Keeping
our gaze focused on the last point where the person stood before they vanished.
“Would you prefer we ignore someone spying on us?” I made the idea sound ridiculous but could see the benefit in doing that.
This time Stella rolled her eyes. She had a wealth of annoying gestures at the ready and aimed them with precision now. “You
don’t know that’s what’s happening.”
She wasn’t wrong. I didn’t. “Then we’ll call the police.”
Stella stopped, forcing me to join her. We stood, facing each other, lost in a debate. Much safer than chasing after a person
who could be armed.
“Great idea. Bring in the police. That won’t shine a spotlight on us and raise questions about what we’re doing here, at this
house, together.” Stella shook her head. “Come on. Think.”
For a therapist, Stella sure could whip out the superior teacher voice. Well, I had one, too. “We’ll say we’re worried about
Hanna. Something a decent person might say.”
“Okay, but—”
A frustrated groan cut off the argument. “Stop fighting.”
Hanna. She stood back, several feet away.
She’d stopped walking and we hadn’t noticed.
Now she hovered at the edge of the wildflower patch that ran parallel to the pool.
A stone path outlined it. The kind made to look quaint, like ruins that had been there for centuries.
The vibrant mix of purple and yellow was set apart from the rest of the lawn by a wood fence, entwined with vines.
The shock of fall color served as a living reminder of life lost. Visible from the pool and the house and carefully tended, or it was until Xavier died.
“Sorry. It’s a hard habit to break.” I wasn’t wrong. Stella and I ran into each other over the years thanks to our ties to
the Tanners and spinning in their orbit. What started as obligatory head nods and hellos turned into bitching and sniping
after the disappearances. A sort of shorthand we used to vent our frustrations about mindless, unimportant things without
taking harsher personal shots.
Stella studied Hanna, not even trying to hide a growing worry. “What’s wrong?”
Hanna continued to hold that paperwork in a death grip. “The wildflower garden.”
I had no idea what that meant. “What about it?”
“Remember the fountain.” Hanna said the phrase more to herself than to us.
“What are you talking about?” Stella asked.
“I was sitting at the fountain because I got this . . . Never mind. This is about Xavier. There’s a sticky note on the trust
documents. The attorney didn’t know where it came from and says it doesn’t have any legal meaning, but I recognize Xavier’s
handwriting. He writes, You know what the wildflower garden means.”
We all did. Sort of.
“He created it to honor Dea.” His dead wife.
The same wife some people thought he’d murdered, which took something romantic and made it unbelievably creepy.
Like everything else related to the house, I wasn’t a fan of the garden or the history.
This much space and that much money corrupted people.
“That raises all sorts of questions about what Dea really meant to him, but yeah.”
“No.” Hanna walked along the edge of the garden fence, talking in a voice that sounded distant, as if she wasn’t actually
speaking to us. “That’s not right.”
Stella sighed. “Hanna, you need to clue us in here.”
Hanna turned back to the pool. “Xavier and I once sat at this fountain. We fought. It was vicious. He yelled and I finally
saw the Xavier everyone else talked about.”
Well, crap. That sounded bad.
“Did he threaten you?” Stella asked.
“I was pregnant, but that wasn’t why he was so angry.” Hanna’s gaze skipped over the statute and down to the pool’s edge.
Her voice started and stopped as she seemingly relived some conversation in her head. “He told me . . . I’d figured out that
he’d . . . and . . . took his file . . .”
File? What did he do? A list of possibilities filled my head; every option ended in Hanna being alone and terrified. I could picture
Xavier looming over her, controlling her, promising to make her life miserable. I didn’t have to hear the exact words to know
he would have used every weapon, verbal and physical, to bend Hanna to his will, even if that weapon was Jeremy. Especially
if it was Jeremy.
Hanna, lost in her thoughts, shook her head. “The wildflower garden wasn’t there. He didn’t plant it or add the path until years later. After Patrick and Victoria and the kids disappeared.”
Wait . . . No. “Really?”
Stella froze. “I don’t remember that being the timing.”
“We sat right there.” Hanna stared at the bench she’d been sitting on. Then she spun around to face the wildflowers again.
“He pointed to what was then open area and . . .”
Tension swept over me, through me. Wrapped around me. “What?”
“He said that was the perfect place.” Hanna’s eyes focused and she stared at us with a look that could only be described as
horror. “To bury a body.”