Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
It had taken a bit of convincing on Amanda’s part, but Zoe got into her car. She did up her seatbelt and crossed her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me about Mr. Archer’s wife and daughter?”
“I thought you had enough to deal with.”
“I’m not a baby.”
“It’s my job as your mother to—”
“You’re not my mother.” Zoe defiantly met Amanda’s eye.
To protect you… “I am. Whether you like it or not, and just because you’re hurting, that doesn’t give you the right to hurt other people.”
Zoe’s eyes filled with tears before she turned away.
Was I being too harsh? She felt like a hypocrite since she hurt those most dear to her when grieving the loss of her family.
In trying to deal with the sheer heartbreak of burying her husband, Kevin; daughter, Lindsey; and Nathan—the boy would have been named after her dad—she’d made the drastic decision to cut her parents and siblings from her life.
While she thought this would protect her from further hurt, it was self-inflicted punishment for surviving when her family hadn’t. “It’s normal, Zoe,” she backpedaled.
“What is?”
“The urge to lash out, to say and do things to people we love when we’re hurting.” It doesn’t make it right… She held that bit back, wanting to keep the relational tone. “And I’m so very sorry you’re hurting, baby.”
Zoe said nothing but kicked farther back into the passenger seat.
“I’ll take us home, and there’s no need to talk anymore until you’re ready.” She wanted her daughter to know it was safe to feel and experience all that she was—without judgment, without a timeline.
Zoe faced her. “No. Call Grandma. You have work to do, don’t you?”
The girl’s words struck her like a blade to the heart. “Zoe, you’re the most important person in the world to me.” And you need me right now… She held back from saying that. Again, not wanting to pressure her into talking.
“But you need to find Mr. Archer’s family and who killed him.”
Her words weren’t meant as a dig… “And I will.”
“No.” Zoe adamantly shook her head. “You can’t do that if you’re with me.”
“Let’s talk about this more when we get home.”
“No!” Zoe yelled, and let it carry.
The noise rang in Amanda’s ears, and she debated whether she should silence Zoe or let her continue with her tantrum.
She decided on the latter. During Amanda’s time speaking with a therapist, her doctor stressed the importance of not censoring her feelings or suppressing them.
She added it was also best to allow them to be expressed in whatever way came naturally.
A moment later, Zoe was looking over at her as if stunned her outburst never got a reaction.
“Trent is still working on finding them while I’m with you. Right now, it’s you and me.” Amanda got them on the road for home. “We’ll make pizza and talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Well, I do,” Amanda said firmly, changing her mind from earlier.
Zoe didn’t respond, and the drive home passed in silence.
Once they got into the house, Zoe plopped onto the couch and turned on the TV.
Amanda took the remote from her and turned it off again.
“Hey,” Zoe griped.
“Help me make the pizza.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I didn’t ask if you did. Come on, let’s move.”
“Do I have to? I’d like to watch TV.” Zoe slumped, wriggling flat out on the couch.
“You want to eat pizza, then you’re going to help me.”
“Who said I want pizza?”
For Zoe, pizza was right up there with pancakes and a burger from Petey’s Patties, but it had failed to get a rise out of her. They had pizza two nights ago but that wouldn’t matter. The girl could eat it every night.
Zoe turned the television back on.
“I know you’re upset, but your behavior is unacceptable. Turn it back off.”
Zoe looked at her with defiance in her eyes and turned up the volume.
Grief or not, Amanda couldn’t tolerate this disrespect. Amanda took the remote and turned the TV off again. “Go to your room.”
“But pizza.”
“I’ll get you when it’s ready to put the toppings on it. Go.” She thrust a pointed finger toward the hallway.
Zoe pushed out her chin and stomped off. Seconds later, her door slammed shut.
Amanda fell against the closest wall and took a deep breath.
We will get through this… Her mind kicked out the positive thought despite it being hard to put faith in it at the moment.
She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a ball of frozen dough from the freezer and put it into a sink full of warm water to thaw.
Next, she got to work gathering toppings.
What am I going to do? The question pinged around in her head.
Her mother had advised her to be honest, but one other thing Amanda had learned from her example was that there also had to be guidance and discipline.
Being a mother was all that Amanda had wanted from the moment she was engaged to Kevin, her late husband.
She always thought she had what it took and could handle whatever life brought her way.
How naive she had been. Being a parent was the toughest job on the planet—balancing love and acceptance while correcting and guiding them.
Parents were also called upon to act as judge and jury.
They needed to decide what punishment fit the “crime.” That was the riddle Amanda was trying to solve right now.
Was sending Zoe to her room enough to send the message that the way she’d treated Amanda was unacceptable?
Or should there be heavier consequences?
It was tricky for Amanda when she understood Zoe’s point of view.
Amanda’s phone beeped with a message, pulling her from her spinning thoughts. A mercy…
It was a text from Trent.
Thinking of you two. I’m here if you want to talk.
As much as she appreciated his concern, when she saw his name she hoped he was contacting her with an update on the investigation.
Find the Johnsons? How did it go with Malone?
Only after firing back her response did she realize she hadn’t acknowledged his offer at all. She tapped out another text.
Thank you.
Three dots came up to show he was typing, and she waited it out.
No luck tracking Johnsons. Bill not at bowling alley but regular. They promised to call if he shows up. Meantime, BOLOs issued. An officer has been posted at their houses and the business. Not approved to track phones yet.
Not the answers she wanted. Before she could respond, Trent messaged again.
Are you coming back tonight?
She stared at his question. In the starkest sense, Valerie and Brooke Archer were out there with a cold-blooded killer.
Someone who hadn’t been satisfied stabbing Paul just once.
No, they had butchered his dead body before discarding it for wildlife to feast upon.
Assuming the mother and girl were still alive, every second counted. But Zoe also needed her.
If Amanda fielded this question to her ex, Logan Hunter, he’d say she’d choose her job hands down.
And he had a point. Despite claiming that family came first, her track record and actions said otherwise.
Investigations frequently interfered with her personal life, disrupted plans, and took her away from the people who mattered most in her life.
Zoe’s words from earlier cycled back. You need to find Mr. Archer’s family and who killed him…
She had told Zoe she was working on that, but Zoe pointed out she couldn’t if she was with her.
But there was no way she was leaving her girl’s side tonight.
It was also a safe bet Trent had the investigation under control, which was more than she could say for herself with Zoe.
She also didn’t want to delegate the therapist appointment to anyone else. It was her place to be there for Zoe.
Amanda flipped back a reply.
I’ll be back first thing in the morning.
Understood. Remember, call if you need to.
Will do. Thx. Call with updates on the case should they happen.
Amanda put her phone back in her pants pocket.
She’d made the right decision picking Zoe, a no-brainer, but that didn’t stop her thoughts from drifting.
Were the Johnsons behind this, or were she and Trent following a false lead?
Whatever the case, it would get sorted out tomorrow.
Hopefully. But right now, Amanda had something else to do.
She took out the folder that held Zoe’s story and sat at the kitchen peninsula to read it.