Chapter 27
Nicole
We were all here. In my living room. Like some kind of broken family retreat.
Sam sat slumped on the couch, shoulders caved in, her body folded in on itself. Her eyes were swollen and red. One eye was half shut, purple and yellow already blooming where the prick had hit her.
The kids slept next to her, curled up together on the couch. Mouths slightly open. Faces smudged with dried tears. One small foot dangled over the edge.
I shifted closer to Sam, fingers wrapped around her hand, and squeezed it. She squeezed back without looking at me.
Detective Nolan stood in the middle of the living room. He wasn’t sitting. He was just standing there.
His gaze moved slowly and settled on me. Then Sam. The kids. And back to me again.
The room was completely silent. The only sound was the clock on the wall, ticking loudly.
Then Nolan’s shoulders sagged. His hands came up to his face, and he rubbed it hard. When he spoke, his voice was muffled through his fingers.
“Nicole, can … um … can I talk to you please?”
“Sure,” I said.
His hands dropped to his hips. He straightened, then glanced past me toward the couch. Sam. The kids. Then his eyes locked back onto mine.
“Alone?”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.”
The kitchen light flicked on as we stepped inside. He paused in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder again, eyes lingering on Sam. On the bruises. On the sleeping kids.
Then he closed the door and turned to me.
“Nicole … are you trying to kill me?”
“What?”
I scanned him head to toe. The dark shadows carved under his eyes. The way his hair stuck up in odd directions, like he’d been running his hands through it for days straight. He looked worn thin. So, so tired.
“I’m just asking,” he said in a strained voice, “because you are literally putting me in the ground.” A long breath escaped him. “Please tell me that isn’t the suspect’s friend sitting in your living room.”
“It’s not.”
“Oh, so that’s not Mrs. Dustin then?”
“Well … it … is. But she isn’t the suspect’s friend. Her husband is.”
He bit his bottom lip, clearly swallowing a curse as he shook his head.
“Goddammit, Nicole.” His voice rose a little. “Your grandkids are freaking sleeping upstairs, and you bring the murderer’s friend’s family into your house—”
“My kids aren’t sleeping upstairs.”
His head jerked back, confusion flashing across his face.
“I took them to Amanda’s.”
His eyes widened like he was watching a horror movie.
“You … took your grandkids … to the victim’s widow?” His voice rose despite himself. “The State’s main witness against your daughter? The murdered man’s widow?”
He threw his hands up.
“I can’t believe this,” he snapped. “Does none of this seem like a bad idea to you? At all?” His hands flew up, then dropped hard against his legs with a dull thud.
“The murderer’s friends are sitting in your living room, and your family is with the victim’s widow.
You’re the suspect’s family, just in case you forgot. ”
“Well,” I said quietly, “when you put it that way …”
He started pacing back and forth. “I can’t believe this.”
“I’m sorry.” The words rushed out of me fast. “Sam can’t stand Myers. And Billy hit her. Sam’s son, Henry, told his dad that Sam had talked to me on the playground. He told his dad I was the woman from the news. Gosh, kids are so observant. But now she has nowhere else to go.”
“You talked to her on the playground?” His head snapped up. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I don’t like any of this either,” I said, heat creeping up my neck. “But my family is slowly dying. Literally.” My fists balled. “I have to find the real killer myself because the AG would rather see my daughter dead than catch him. To get even for his rapist son.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t agree. Didn’t disagree.
“What was I supposed to do?” My voice rose despite myself. “Just leave her there with Billy to beat her up in front of the kids?”
“Call 911.”
“Why would I call 911 when she didn’t? She wouldn’t have talked to the police.
And without her agreeing to leave him, you and I both know she’d still be sitting in that trailer.
And don’t act like you don’t know how domestic violence cases are handled when the police are called.
They’d tell him to sleep in his truck for the night, then he’d be right back inside the next day.
” I crossed my arms. “So, honestly, in all this madness, getting Sam and the kids away from that trash is the only good thing that has happened in weeks.” My gaze stayed on him.
Steady. “And if you see it any other way, there’s the door. ”
Nolan stopped pacing. His hands dragged through his hair. A loud breath pushed out of him, full of frustration. Then his gaze caught mine, and he nodded.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most stubborn person on this planet?”
My lips curled into a smile. “You should meet my grandson Dylan.”
“Rain check on that,” he said, returning a tired smile before the moment passed.
“What can we do to help them?” My head turned toward the living room, toward Sam and the kids. “They can stay here for now, but what if he comes for them?”
Nolan shook his head. “They can’t stay here. Mrs. Dustin might be a witness in your daughter’s murder trial. Her testimony could be important. We can’t have her look like your friend who lives with you.” He exhaled. “And it’s not safe. What if Billy comes for them?”
His jaw tightened.
“Fuck. I’ll fix this. Somehow,” he said, then went quiet, eyes unfocused, thinking.
Then a nod. “Okay. I’ll drive them to a women’s shelter north of Boston.
I know the director well. She’s good at what she does.
They’ll get a room there. Food. Clothes.
Money. Toys. Even a lawyer. If anyone can get Sam to leave that piece of shit, it’s her. ”
I nodded.
“After that, I’ll drive to Billy’s,” Nolan continued. “Let him know they’re at a shelter. So he doesn’t start looking for them here and cause trouble.”
Another nod.
“And first thing tomorrow morning, you get your family back,” he said. “They can’t stay at the victim’s widow’s house. None of this helps you in the end. It could just cause more problems than you need right now.”
I nodded again, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to follow that request. There was no law against living with the victim’s widow when you were related to the suspect.
No rule saying I had to tear my family apart just to make things easier for everyone else.
My family had eaten a normal dinner for the first time in weeks.
The kids had smiled again. Brian had looked sober.
The kids needed a mom. And Amanda could hold that place for Lacey while I tried to save her. Until Lacey could take it back.
“Are you going to look into Myers?” I asked.
Nolan cocked a brow. “So that’s what you were doing at the Seacoast Inn.”
“Sam told me that’s where he stays when he’s around,” I said. “She also told me that the night of Zach’s murder, Billy and Myers were arguing in the kitchen. Myers was covered in blood. Something felt off, she said. She just knew he’d done something really bad that night.”
Nolan listened. His gaze stayed fixed and serious. Then he leaned back against the counter. “Fuck.”
“What are we going to do?” I asked. “We need to find him.”
“First of all,” he said, straightening, “there is no we.” His tone hardened.
“You’ll leave this investigation to me. If I have questions, I’ll reach out.
And that’s it. No more playing Columbo or Miss Marple.
This isn’t a TV show. In the real world, people get hurt doing what you’re doing.
” His eyes locked on mine. “And the last thing those kids need is to lose their grandma too.”
I stared at him in silence.
He took it as agreement. And maybe it was. “Good,” he said. “Now get some rest. I’ll get Mrs. Dustin and the kids to Susan. She’ll take care of them.”
He turned toward the living room, but I grabbed his arm. His eyes dropped to my hand.
“Thank you.”
For the first time since the murder, some of the weight fell off my shoulders. Like I wasn’t carrying all of this alone anymore. Like somebody was fighting with me. Not against me.
“Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll text you once they’re at the shelter.”
He took another step, then stopped.
“And for Christ’s sake,” he added, “next time, call me before you do anything that, you know, a sweet teacher shouldn’t be doing.”
“I don’t want to lie to you again,” I said softly. “So I can’t make that promise.”
He blinked. “Wait. Lie again? When did you lie to me?”
I gently pushed him toward the living room. “Let’s talk about that another time. I want to say good-bye to Sam. Then I need to get some sleep, or I’ll end up in the psych ward tonight.”
He let it go, barely, an annoyed look on his face.
“Fine. I’ll start the car and carry the kids to their car seats.”