Chapter 64 2025
“You lied to me.”
The sheriff is in Heddy’s living room. Moving boxes surround them, and he is holding a red Solo cup of water. An open bag of Oreos sits on the coffee table between them. Now that she’s buried her husband, Heddy is returning to New York City to restart her life.
“I asked you if your husband was having issues with anyone, and you said no.”
“He wasn’t,” she says defensively. “At least not that I knew of.”
“Cut the crap, Heddy. I don’t have enough fingers and toes for the number of people who had issues with your husband. Including Vivien Kendall, who you conveniently didn’t bother to mention running into days before your husband went missing.”
Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.
“Yes. We bumped into her at the grocery store. But I didn’t see how that mattered.”
“It mattered because I’m trying to figure out who murdered your husband, and it turns out Vivien Kendall and your husband had issues worthy of the Montagues and the Capulets.
It matters because Vivien Kendall happens to be a very good friend of Meryl Fairbanks, who just happens to live in a house on the pond where your husband’s body was found.
And you knew all that, and you thought it the moment I told you where he was found. ”
She glubs again, her face contorting to come up with an explanation.
“I did, but I didn’t say anything because I knew there was no way Patch . . . I mean Vivien . . . was involved.”
“And you know that how?”
Her eyes drop. “Because I do. I know her. I’ve known her since we were kids, and there’s no way she could kill someone. Even if she hated them and they deserved it.”
“Your husband deserved to be killed?”
Her hands twist in her lap. “No. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s like you said, there was bad blood between them. That’s all I was saying.”
“And you knew about the hole in the wall?”
“Hole?” She looks up, genuinely surprised, and he thinks he was right to believe she had no idea how her husband got to the pond that day.
“There’s a hole in the school’s wall that leads to the pond. It’s how I believe your husband got there that day. The hole’s about a mile from the chapel through the woods. After his sermon, he walked there and crawled through to meet someone, likely the person who killed him.”
Her eyes flick side to side as she processes it, her brow furrowing. “And you think that person was Vivien?”
“It’s a possibility.”
Her eyes settle on his, and she shakes her head. “It isn’t.”
“It’s not possible?”
“No. It’s not. Trust me. She had nothing to do with it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she’s Patch. She’s better than the rest of us.”