Chapter 44
Chapter
Forty-Four
Seven months later
I sit on the balcony of my new apartment.
After I returned to California last summer, I needed a change.
With the help of the studio, I moved closer to Burbank.
Now, in Santa Monica, the Pacific Ocean glows in the distance as strands of my long hair float around my face.
The February scene is drastically different than that back in Blue Gil.
There was snow on the ground when I went home this year for Christmas. It felt right.
It was like Mom said, each trip is easier. She even shared the special ingredient of her chicken salad—a tablespoon of brown sugar.
That tidbit is an easier secret to carry.
I take a sip of my lemonade. Hitting send on my laptop, I return the last edits to Liam with the specifics for the final scene in an upcoming episode, the one that has been giving us fits.
It’s funny how the saying is true: time does heal.
It heals physically and mentally.
I’ve kept my word to avoid blackouts. I haven’t consumed a drop of alcohol since the night of my attack.
I’m still seeing my counselor once a week.
She’s now on my short list of people who know most of my secrets.
I told her everything about Craig, our baby, and Keith.
I even told her about my family and about my sister and the game she may have been playing.
The one secret I haven’t told: who hit Craig that foggy morning.
I’ll never share that.
The counselor suggested that perhaps it is the prospect of Julie and her harem’s game as to why I don’t feel close to my youngest sister.
A relationship that meant something to me was possibly nothing to her.
As Liv said, Julie wasn’t Craig’s conquest. He was hers.
Maybe one day, Julie and I will talk and set the record straight.
I don’t think either one of us is ready for that.
She’s a freshman at KVCC. Mom said she’s starting to talk about Michigan State next fall.
Thankfully, I heard back from the attorney in Los Angeles, the one who facilitated the adoption. He not only assured me that my son and his family are safe, but after he contacted them, the parents agreed to send him quarterly updates.
My refrigerator is now covered with photographs.
They named my baby Ellis. He has Craig’s soft brown eyes and my red hair. At six years old, he has an infectious smile, one that is missing both of his top front teeth. I’m waiting patiently for an update when his front teeth will be present, seemingly too large for his grin.
Ellis’s interests include baseball and video games.
I know I have no right to an opinion, but I hope he avoids football.
The sound of my phone beckons me back inside my apartment. The name on the screen is Liam. At the same time, the security pad near my door indicates a visitor.
I hit the green icon on my phone. “What did we miss?” I ask in lieu of a greeting as I simultaneously hit the button to unlock the lower entry. I’m expecting a dinner delivery.
“Jill, have you checked the latest wire?”
The production company receives direct news bulletins that could later become an episode. Give us kidnapping, homicide, or any other crime, and we will do our best to make it entertainment.
“No, I’ve been concentrating on the episode we were discussing. And I’m about to eat.” I do a little dance that only I can see. “I ordered Fritto Misto.” Despite the restaurant’s unassuming appearance, their Italian food is some of the best, better than restaurants with much higher price tags.
“I’m going to send you something,” he says.
“Liam, your voice is weird, and you didn’t act jealous of my dinner. What’s up?”
My phone and laptop ding with whatever he sent. I head toward the laptop on the table on the balcony when there is a knock on my door.
“Liam, my food is here. I’ll call you back.”
Instead of agreeing, he continues, “That guy, the one who hurt you, he’s still in custody, right?”
“Right, his trial was postponed, but they’re saying next summer. There’s something with the state prosecutor—” I open the door, my words stilling and my heartrate spiking. “Serena.” I can’t believe she’s here on my doorstep.
Her expression is the same as the day long ago in Lawton. “Jillian.”
I lift a finger as I continue to stand in the doorway. Speaking into the phone, I say, “Liam, I agree we should have the police enter sooner rather than later.”
“Jill, what’s happening?” he asks.
“I have to go” —I smile at Serena— “I have a visitor.”
“Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “Bye.” I disconnect the call as my attention goes back to the woman in the hallway of my apartment building. “Serena, why are you here?”
“Invite me in. We have some things to discuss.”
Her voice.
I recognize it.
Goose bumps coat my arms. It’s the feminine voice I heard after I was drugged. My conviction is so strong, I know it was hers without a doubt. That means…
She was my attacker.
What did Keith say? Something about how Craig damaged Serena.
Keith.
Keith is innocent.
Keith is innocent and Ellis isn’t safe.
With my pulse thumping in my ears, I take a step back and allow her to enter. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to prove Keith’s innocence or ensure my son’s safety.
Serena takes her time, step by step, looking around my apartment. Her eyes settle on the ocean view. “You’ve done well for yourself.” She walks toward the balcony. “There aren’t views like this in Chicago.”
“The water is about the same temperature as Lake Michigan.” I point to the table where my laptop is sitting. “Please have a seat. Can I get you anything?”
“Hmm, let’s see…” Her lips curl. “Do you have any iced tea?”
The police discovered the GHB used to drug me in my glass of iced tea. Inhaling, I nod. “I do.” I gesture again to the table and chairs. “Please.”
Slowly, Serena takes the seat opposite my laptop.
When I return with two glasses of tea, the top of my computer is closed.
As I hand her a glass, she speaks, “What you do is fascinating.”
“Why do you care what I do?” My response comes out harsher than I intended, yet Serena doesn’t appear offended.
Her gaze stays eerily steady on me. “Do you remember Sydney Morton?”
Theo’s sister.
I nod.
“She was an attorney. An attorney. Can you imagine?”
“Was?”
Serena shakes her head. “Is.” She scoffs. “My mistake. Is. In Chicago. Did very well for herself, just like you.”
I’m not sure where this is going, but I haven’t missed her return to past tense. I pretend to care. “Keith told me that you have a degree in fashion. I’m sure you’ll be successful, or maybe you already are.”
“It’s not the same for me. I spent eight years as a housewife with no work experience following college.
Those bullet points don’t make for a stellar résumé.
” A cough seems to catch her off guard; she takes a drink of her tea.
Once she’s composed, she says, “Sydney was the first person who asked me why.” Her smile is back.
“I wondered if you’d ask, or if you knew.
The notes in your cabin…” She shakes her head.
“You’re very inquisitive with some interesting theories. ”
“You saw my notes?”
“Saw them? I read them.” She places the glass on the table. “My brother-in-law was inquisitive too.”
“Have you visited Keith?”
Serena stands and walks to the railing. Lifting her face, she hums. “This really is beautiful.” She spins toward me. “He never mentioned you.”
He.
Craig.
“You weren’t important to him.”
If she’s trying to upset me, she’s too late. I look her in the eye. “Serena, I was young, and I was wrong.”
Laughter bubbles from her throat. “You’re not blaming him? Everyone else does.”
“I think we were both to blame.”
She stands straighter. “Do you…?” Her agitation grows. “Could I use your bathroom?”
“Of course,” I say, the uncomfortable vibes growing stronger. I stand. “I’ll show you.”
Serena follows me into the living room. Once the bathroom door closes, I rush into the kitchen and remove all Ellis’s pictures from the refrigerator and stuff them into a drawer. My phone pings, and I recall that Liam wanted to send me some news.
Quickly, I hurry to the balcony and open my laptop. After entering my passcode, I pull up his email and open the attachment:
Twenty-seven-year-old attorney found dead in Carol Stream, Illinois. The body of Sydney Morton, originally from Blue Gil, Michigan, was discovered Tuesday night.
My stomach drops and my words are too low to be audible. “Oh my God, Serena killed Sydney. That’s why she used the past tense.”
I remember a conversation last spring at Walleye Tavern.
“What happened to your sister?”
“She’s like you,” Theo says. “She left for college and never returned.”
Like me...
Liv: “You weren’t the first or the last.”
Mom: “He knew about Theodore’s daughter, about you...”
My stomach twists.
I pull out my phone to see a text from Liam.
“THE POLICE ARE ON THEIR WAY. SO AM I.”
The bathroom door opens and Serena steps out, she’s wiping her palms on the legs of her jeans.
“Sydney is dead,” I say as I hit the recording icon on my phone. I could lie, but right now, my goal is to buy time until the police arrive.
Serena stops in her tracks as her eyes open wider. “She is? That’s a shame. She had such a bright future ahead of her, just like all the rest…Diana and Marty.”
“Why not kill Julie?”
“Because she’s your sister.”
“You saved her because of me?”
Serena shakes her head. “She almost died. Her living threw off the police. Why kill one and not the other? I’m good at games too.”
“You knew about their game?”
“Everyone knew. They were too obvious. There wasn’t one married woman in Blue Gil who mourned the passing of Martha Thompson.”
“Maggie,” I said, speaking of Marty’s mother.
Serena shrugs as she walks back onto the balcony. “Come. I want to know more about your thoughts on Craig’s murder. Your notes were fascinating.”
“How did you read my notes?” I know the answer. She took my notebook the night I was attacked. That is why it wasn’t with my things.
Serena doesn’t answer, only continues to speak. “You had some fascinating theories. I didn’t realize Craig drowned.” She lifts her cheeks and curls her lips in a devious smile. “I wonder what he was thinking as he lost the ability to breathe. Truly, a person’s final thoughts are very telling.”
I take the seat opposite her. “You said murder. You believe he was murdered?” I lean forward. “Did you kill him?”
I know she didn’t.
Serena sits taller and inhales. “I can’t say I never thought about it, but someone beat me to it. I think Sheriff Manes knows, but he’s good at keeping secrets.” She nods toward my tea. “Drink up. This is delicious tea.”
“I’ve been drug and alcohol free for seven months. I don’t think I want to ingest whatever you put in my drink.”
“You’re being silly.” She lifts her glass by the rim and hands it to me. “Take mine. I’ll drink yours.”
Apprehensively, I reach for her glass as she takes mine and drinks.
“Did you figure out who did it? Who killed Craig?” Serena asks.
I shake my head, looking down into Serena’s tea, certain I won’t drink a drop. Instead, I set it on the table and finish my lemonade.
“You never pressed charges against Keith. Why?”
My gaze goes to hers. “I don’t think he did it. I don’t think he’d hurt me.”
“Yes, you two were getting very…should I say close?”
I don’t respond.
“You see, I stopped by your cabin the night before…”
My attack.
“… and you weren’t alone,” she says. “That was when I realized you both were guilty, snooping around.”
“You framed Keith?”
“It was the police. Thankfully, they found evidence of his crimes. I bet it makes you feel better to know he’s locked up, and your son is safe. I simply wouldn’t be able to sleep if I thought my son was in danger.”
I set my empty lemonade glass on the table as a wave of dizziness surges through me.
I didn’t drink the tea, yet she did something. Blinking, I look over at Serena’s blurry figure. “Shit, whatdid youdo?” My speech is jumbled.
“GHB doesn’t have to be ingested. It can be absorbed through the skin.” She tilts her head. “There was some in your lemonade, too. I had to be sure it would affect you.”
I look down at my hand, the one that had been holding Serena’s glass. “Youbitch. Youdrugged mee.”
Her words are garbled as if they’re coming from an old staticky radio. “I want you to know you were right about most of your research. It’s a good way to die, knowing you were right.”
Die.
After all of this, I’m going to die.
I can’t let that happen.
Her voice is singsong. “What are your last thoughts?”
Ellis.
Ellis is my thought.
If I die, who will save him?
I can’t let her get away with this.
The police.
I need to open the door.
As I begin to stand, the balcony wobbles, and I reach out for the railing. Missing my target, I fall to my knees. “Don’t hurtellis.”