Chapter 44
Marmee scans the familiar entryway, appraising every detail. The shattered mirror littering the foyer. The open door leading outside. Preston lying motionless on the floor. Ava kneeling beside him, her shawl covered in blood.
“My goodness,” she says, almost breathless.
“The police are almost here,” I say. “I heard sirens approaching. We don’t have much time.”
Ava stands, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with a bloody hand. She looks at Marmee. “You shouldn’t see any of this.”
“I heard gunshots,” she says. “If you’re going to have to explain everything to the police, you might as well start with me.”
“Preston was working with Oliver to steal your jewelry.” My eyes clench shut, head shaking in disbelief. “He was the person blackmailing me this whole time.”
“He needed his own money so he could divorce me,” Ava says. “Constance thought he was doing everything to be with her. When she learned he was only out for himself, she shot him.”
“What a mess.” Marmee shakes her head. “Where is Constance now?”
“Outside waiting for the police.” I look at Ava to gauge her reaction. “She admitted to killing Marlowe, too.”
“And the boy who came with Marlowe?” Marmee asks.
“Damien,” I say. “He’s by the pond. He wasn’t involved with any of this.”
“Does Constance know about Oliver?” Ava asks.
I shake my head. “Marmee does. And you and Preston.”
My eyes fall to the floor, taking in the horrible sight of his blood-soaked body.
“Oliver has nothing to do with what happened tonight.” Ava’s voice is solid, resolute. A type of promise.
“Ava, you don’t have to keep this secret—”
“Yes, I do,” she says, stepping closer. She holds my hand. “Tippi, you’re my best friend. You’ve always been my best friend. You’re like a sister to me.”
Regret scratches the back of my throat, tears blurring my vision. My words come out as a whisper. “I killed him, Ava. There’s no defending that.”
“And I understand why you did it,” she says, squeezing my hands tighter. “He took something from you. He threatened you.” She raises her gaze to the staircase. “He threatened to hurt the ones you love.”
Marmee watches over us, a gentle understanding in her eyes. She made a similar pact over fifty years ago with Mrs. Wilson, when my grandfather put her in the position of having to protect another person.
Flashes of blue and red filter through the open front door, brakes screeching to a halt.
“They’re here,” I say. Ava squeezes my hand.
Over the years, I’ve written off Ava as someone self-involved and superficial because that’s the way the rest of the world sees her, the box they put her in. But I was wrong. I don’t know why I wasn’t able to see it before.
She’s always been the person by my side. When I was lonely in college and she chose to watch old movies with me rather than go out partying. When she shifted her entire schedule to plan the wedding of my dreams. And now she’s keeping my biggest secret.
More than just keeping it, she understands why I did it.
It’s the same bond that’s held Marmee and Mrs. Wilson together all these years.
It appears some relationships are built to last, after all.