Chapter Thirty-Six
Thirty-Six
I thought for certain the longest night of my life had ended when Rich and I left the bird sanctuary. The crimes had been solved; one killer was dead and the other was behind bars. And while I couldn’t pretend that anyone’s plans made sense to me, I also wasn’t the kind of person who could kill someone over money, or real estate, or really anything else.
The motivations and logic of killers were never going to make sense to me, even if the plot was revenge or jealousy.
But it was jealousy who I found on my front porch when I got back to my house.
With Rich trailing behind me to make sure I got home safely, I didn’t feel any immediate danger when I saw Deacon sitting on the porch swing, rocking back and forth. If anything, he looked more like an invited guest than a potential threat.
That said, I hadn’t looked at Connor’s baby face and seen a killer either, so I might not be the best judge of character.
Rich closed the distance between us and put a protective hand on my shoulder. I wasn’t sure if it was more for me—so I knew he was there—or for Deacon, so the other man wouldn’t try anything funny.
“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m not here to hurt her or anything. I just wanted to see if you got my pictures, that’s all.”
The pictures.
In all this mess of twisted plans and nefarious schemes, I hadn’t spent much time dwelling on who had left the pictures at my back door. Deacon had crossed my mind as a possibility, but I’d just gotten so distracted by everything else that I hadn’t come back to the question of who had left me evidence. Detective Martin had confirmed it hadn’t been Connor, but I hadn’t stopped to think it might be Deacon.
“So that was you.” Rich and I came up on the porch, and Rich pulled up one of the deck chairs for me so I could sit. The excitement of the evening was wearing me down, and I had dozed off in the car on the way here. Rich knew I was running out of steam, and I appreciated the kindness of such a small gesture.
He remained standing behind me, making sure that Deacon never left his sight.
“Were you following me around too?” I asked, thinking about all the times I’d been so sure someone was just around the corner, tailing my footsteps.
He blushed. “I know it was a risk, and there was a chance you wouldn’t do anything about it. But I needed someone to know that Melody was up to no good. I’m sure she had something to do with Sebastian’s death, and that was all I had to show to prove it. I took some other stuff from her room, but I wasn’t sure I could go to the police without them arresting me.” He must have meant the bank statements.
I glanced down and looked at his oh-so-familiar black military-style boots.
I gave my head a gentle shake. “Deacon, buddy. You’re a few chapters behind on the updates.”
“What are you talking about?”
Before I explained everything to him, there was something from Detective Martin’s story that was bothering me. “When you came here to talk to me because you thought I might be a sympathetic ear, you told me this huge sob story about Sebastian firing you over your relationship.”
“And that’s what happened.”
“But you didn’t feel the need to mention that the actual reason he fired you was for embezzlement. You told me you quit.”
Deacon shot up out of his chair, and Rich was in front of me in a heartbeat. “That’s not fair . That’s not what happened, and if Melody told you so, you can’t believe a single thing that pathological liar says.”
I grabbed Rich’s hand, giving it a squeeze to let him know I was okay, and though he hesitated, he did step back.
“Deacon, sit down,” I said, my voice thick with exhaustion.
To my surprise, he did so without any argument, reclaiming his place on the porch swing. His stress still showed in other ways—in the sweat on his brow, the way he was wringing his hands together. “I would never steal from Sebastian, and I tried to tell him that. I came here to try to prove that to him. I don’t know if I wanted him back or wanted my job back or if I just wanted him to know he couldn’t trust the people around him, but it was too late. I should have done more; I should have found another way to make him listen.”
Deacon dropped his face into his hands and started to cry.
There wasn’t anything I could do or say that was going to alleviate his guilt or bring back the man he’d loved. But I could at least offer him the truth. So I explained to him, as best I could, the convoluted machinations that had led to Sebastian’s accidental death, the arrest of Connor, and the likely later arrest of Melody for fraud once she got released from the hospital. He absorbed the story with wide eyes and a mouth hung open in shock. I couldn’t blame him for his reaction; I had probably looked much the same when Martin walked me through it.
When I finished, he sat back in the swing and stared out at the dark street, saying nothing. There wasn’t much to say. Rich and I gave him the grace of shared silence so he could process the information I’d just dumped in his lap.
After a long, long time, he looked back at us and said, “Connor? Seriously?”
I nodded. “I know. He was really the last person I expected too. It made me overlook him completely.”
“I thought of that kid like a little brother. I showed him all the ropes, helped him with everything. I was teaching him how to do my job so maybe one day he might be able to branch out on his own. Maybe that was my mistake too. Maybe I never should have let him know just how much money we were making.”
“I mean, Sebastian was famous on a video app,” Rich said. “How much money could inspire the kid to make a move this drastic?”
Deacon let out a little humorless laugh. “Last month alone Sebastian made a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in sponsorships, another twenty-five thousand on Patreon, and the ad revenue on his videos from YouTube and TikTok was worth fifty-eight thousand dollars combined. He was also doing Cameos—you know, those little videos people can buy for their friends? He made ten thousand doing those. In one month. One month. I don’t think you realize just how lucrative it can be to be famous on a video app . There’s a reason Sebastian was able to afford a full staff. He paid us all really well for our work. But apparently, for some people, it wasn’t enough. They wanted a bigger piece of the pie.”
“And you, you never wanted a bigger piece of the pie?” I asked, genuinely curious, given numbers like that, how Sebastian’s former business manager had avoided the desire to pocket a little extra that had ruined two others on the same staff.
“No, Ms. Winchester. The only thing I ever wanted more of was his heart.”