Chapter Seventeen #2
“Except there’s a real woman involved with a real child who’ll grow up only seeing her mother through wired glass.
” My voice was hard. “No one should sit by with their thumbs up their asses, singing at the breeze when an innocent person needs help, and another—two other innocent people lost their lives.
“I won’t let this go, Reynard.” I looked him dead in the eyes. “Ever. I will find him. If I’ve got to burn this whole town to the ground, I’ll do it if it means I’ll get to yank his corpse out of the ashes and burn him again!”
He blinked at my ferocity. “I understand how you feel, Sue, but the more I think about it, the more I’m certain it had to be some deranged sicko thief who heard about the party—because everyone heard about the party—and figured that if he showed up wearing white, he’d be allowed in with everyone else.
When that worked, he came up here scoping out things to steal, happened on your mother, and. .. well, he silenced her.”
“But nothing was taken, even though there was a jewelry box full of priceless gems on the dresser right next to her.”
Reynard tossed his head, looking helpless.
“Then maybe he panicked after the murder, and realized he had to get out of there quick. Or maybe he heard someone outside and got spooked— I don’t know.
I just know that your mother had limited to no contact with anyone outside of these walls for months,” he said.
“Even before she was plagued with confusion, she never used social media, and she only used her phone to keep in touch with her friends, and even though I don’t understand Korean, shouting and harsh speech transcends language barriers.
But I never heard any angry words pass between her and someone else. ”
“I hear you,” I said, blowing out an angry breath. “No one my mother knew wanted to hurt her, so it had to be a stranger.”
“It had to be.” His voice was firm. “No question. No one who knew Madame Kim and how much she was already suffering would’ve had any hate left in their hearts after hearing she didn’t have long.
Even Mr. Spencer let go of his rage, and accepted that if she really stole all of his and his parents’ money—”
I snapped up. “What?”
“—she would’ve come clean after learning she only had a few months left to live,” he blazed on, unaware of my falling jaw. “I mean, it wasn’t like she could take the money with her, and everything she had was about to be passed on to her only child, so if she did steal it—”
“Steal?!”
“—Micah was soon to know all,” Reynard finished.
“In my time, I’ve found that when faced with the option of confessing your sins when it counts, or waiting until you face the judgement of a deity—most people choose confession.
” He nodded to himself, convinced in the face of my astonishment.
“Yeah, I’m sure of it. Either Micah finally believed your mother was telling the truth before she died, or he was waiting for the will to do that.
But he didn’t need to kill her for the latter. The cancer was doing that for him.”
He flicked down to me. “What? Oh, shit, should I not have said that? I’m sorry, Sue, I know he’s your husband, but I’ve lived here for half a year.
I heard the knockdown, screaming fights between you and Micah, and Micah and your mother.
I don’t know why he was so convinced your mother was behind the scam that cost his parents everything, but if you’d have asked me four months ago who wanted her dead—I would’ve said Micah Spencer.
“But now that you’re asking me today...” He shook his head, smiling. “No. Over these last few weeks, this cold, forgotten manor has become a home again. There was a happy family living here again, and no one in this family would’ve ruined that.
“No,” he repeated, his gaze shifting away. “The monster you’re looking for is out there.”
Nodding, I stood up, breaking free of his grasp. “Thank you, Reynard. For being straight with me, and for saying so many nice things about me and my family—even though we’ve got to be the weirdest band of freaks you’ve ever come across.”
He chuckled. “Not at all.”
I moved to the door and pushed it open. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a minute alone. I just need to process everything.”
“Of course, of course. I understand.”
I held my smile until I shut and locked the door behind him.
Reaching into my pocket, I took out my phone and held the recorder to my lips.
“A guilty person never misses a chance to throw suspicion on someone else.
Anyone else. And Reynard was doing so good until he got to the end and not-so-subtly put Micah in the frame.
“But why?”
I crossed to the window, looking out over the dead and dying garden.
“If he was really an hour away with his buddies, why did Rhodes say he saw him in the garden that night?
Was Rhodes mistaken, or did he slip away and come back here just to pick up a new bad habit beneath the room where my mother was being murdered?
“And what about Micah?” I rasped. “Why in the flip flipping fuck did he think my mother stole from his? What could’ve possibly given him that idea?
Because that’s definitely the kind of grudge that sticks around.
Ten years later, and I’m still plenty angry at the bitch who tricked and schemed to steal my college and trust fund from me.
“But,” I continued—my mind twisting itself into shape.
“How do I approach this with him? If Reynard heard us fight about it, then it’s something Sue is already supposed to know about.
I can’t act like he hid it from me because I’m already supposed to know.
Is there even a way to approach this with him without giving away that I’m not Sue? ”
My phone had no answers for me, naturally.
“All right, I’m putting that aside for right now and focusing on where things stand,” I said.
“There were ten people who left the party and went upstairs during the time window. I’m going to exclude Pixie, Chic Ghost, and Button Nose.
They lived their whole lives in New York, and Omma lived in Lantana.
They had no reason to hurt her. No doubt they were upstairs snooping around like the nosy, catty frenemies they are.
“That leaves seven,” I continued. “Courtney, Charles Layton, Nicolas Stevens, Christie Baudelaire, Rhodes Newbury, Micah Spencer, and Alexander Montgomery.” My throat closed tighter and tighter until the final name was nothing but a strangled whisper.
“Rhodes was upstairs on the third floor.
Alex told me in the car that he left his phone in his bedroom, and went up to call his aunt and check on Lily.
“Christie cleared a cool seven figures that night, so what in the hell would she have been in a rage about? She had zero reason to pop upstairs and murder my mother. And if she did, she’s the best actress in the world, because all that screaming, crying, and vomiting after we saw Omma looked pretty real to me.
“But,” I forced out. “The fact is I don’t really know Christie, and I haven’t been the one she’s been dealing with all these months that her and Sue were planning the party. Maybe something did happen between her and Omma, and she settled the score that night.
“Then there’s Charles Layton. Why did he go upstairs that night?
That’s the first thing I need to ask him when he comes over for Lily’s piano lesson tomorrow,” I said.
“It’s not going to be as easy to corner Mr. Stevens, but if the cop that clocked Courtney going upstairs had seen her going up and then back down with Stevens by her side, wouldn’t they have hauled them both in?
“They didn’t, so Stevens went upstairs by himself. Why?” I asked. “Why?”
I dropped my hands to my side, shutting off the recorder.
Scoffing, I spun away from the bright, sunny morning—seething with hate.
“I want to talk about how lonely and isolated Omma has become? Well, look at me. Talking to myself in an empty room, surrounded by murder suspects who think I’m someone else, all while my best friend sat in a jail cell.
It’s me who has no one and nothing real.
“It’s me who’s all alone.”
If I thought someone would stick their head in right then to tell me I was wrong... no one came.
“THAT’S RIGHT, LILY. Now C, C, D. C, C, D. One smooth motion.”
Lily’s banging was far from smooth, but I had to admit she sounded better than she did the week before.
I stood in the doorway holding a tray of lemonade and cookies while Alex read in his armchair in the corner, and Lily and Layton practiced.
My phone buzzed. Balancing the tray on my arm, I stuck my hand in my pocket and fished it out.
Alex: I want you so fucking bad.
I almost dropped the tray.
Snapping up, I latched on to Alex, who still had his nose in his book, but for some reason, had started tapping the pages.
Alex: I want you in my mouth, baby—sweet, dripping, and wet. I want every drop of you on my tongue until there’s nothing left for anyone else.
My knees knocked together as my lower belly contracted painfully. A grown-ass woman, and my panties were dampening like a horny teenager.
Alex: And when you think I’m done— When you think you’re done and you’ve got nothing else to give, I’m going to lay you out and devour you, eating you out until I’m fat and blissed on your sweet, tasty cookies.
What?
The next text dropped on the screen.
Alex: And I’ll get on that as soon as this woman brings in the tray.
“You rat bastard!”
Alex burst out laughing. Giving up all pretense, the book he wasn’t reading fell to the floor, then he tumbled after it—curled up on his side and wheezing until he couldn’t breathe.
Lily and Mr. C stared at the two of us nonplussed.
“Are you okay, Mommy?”
I sniffed. “I’m perfect, sweet girl. I brought you a snack. Want to take it and your horrible daddy into the living room?” Alex laughed louder. “Have an hour of screen time before you start your homework.”