Chapter 52
AFTER A LONG DAY AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, I WENT BACK TO MARY’S for the night. After lying in her cozy guest room for what seemed like hours, I finally fell asleep and woke to the smell of bacon and coffee.
Mary and Wyatt are sitting at the kitchen table when I walk in, rubbing my eyes.
“It’s so quiet here,” I say.
Mary smiles. “I love that about this place. And we shut the gates to the property after we got back last night, so if the reporters want to get to us, they’ll have to walk a mile and a half.”
Max wanders to my side and my hand finds her soft head. With a pet, I silently thank her for protecting me yesterday. “I probably need to head back to Cheshire Lake,” I say. “All of my things are there. Clothes. Laptop. Everything I own.” When I escaped, I didn’t even have my purse or any ID.
Mary shoots a look at Wyatt. “You shouldn’t go by yourself, Emma.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“The press is going to be relentless. You shouldn’t face that alone.”
“I’ll go with you,” Wyatt says.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“We wouldn’t feel right if you went alone,” Mary says.
I don’t ask if Mary will be going with us. I don’t think she ever wants to see Spencer House again, and I don’t blame her. But having Wyatt with me will definitely make the trip easier.
After breakfast, Wyatt and I leave in his truck for Cheshire Lake.
My anxiety builds as we draw near the entrance to the lake.
But Wyatt has kept up a light, pleasant conversation the whole way, filling me in on his and my aunt’s life for the last nearly thirty years.
It’s easy to warm to him as he describes a life of service to the people of northern Maine, sprinkled in with funny stories about country living.
The tall, iron gates stand open as if all the secrets of Cheshire Lake have finally spilled out. We trundle down the gravel road, turn onto the macadam lake road, and I remember when I first arrived here, so full of hope.
There are cars parked at Noah’s place, and crime scene tape surrounds Spencer House. I direct Wyatt to pull up alongside the road by Noah’s.
When I get out of the truck, Noah sprints from his front door and wraps me in a tight hug. I lean my head against his shoulder and cry.
Wyatt waits patiently. I push myself away from Noah and introduce the two men. Inside Noah’s house, I’m shocked to see Aubrey sitting in his front room.
“You’re okay,” I say like an idiot, my voice nearly a whisper.
Aubrey nods and bites her lips, seeming to stem tears. “I got back last night. I stayed in a hotel and went to the police station first thing this morning.”
“What happened?”
Aubrey sniffs and wipes at her cheeks. “I was scared. So scared. I found something that looked like it could be the murder weapon buried in our yard, behind our shed. I was afraid that Dale killed Simon and I didn’t know what to do, so I left with the wooden mallet I found, to protect him.
I went to South Carolina, to an old college friend’s house.
When I heard the coverage yesterday, I knew I needed to come back and face what I’d done. ”
“Oh my God, Aubrey. Dale? Really?”
She shakes her head vigorously. “It wasn’t him.”
Noah says, “Emma, Wyatt, please sit. Can I get you anything?”
We tell him no and get settled on the sofa. “Who was it? Who killed Simon?” I ask.
Noah glances toward Spencer House. “Ruth.”
“What?” I fall back against the cushions.
“Ruth followed Simon out of the house and hit him with a wooden mallet. Then she had Larry bury it in Dale’s yard.”
I try to respond, but words stick in my throat.
“The cops are talking to Ruth now over at her house,” Noah says. “Apparently, Jeffrey knew about it and confessed the whole thing.”
“Why? Why would Ruth kill Simon?”
Noah shrugs. “My theory is that he was asking too many questions. When you got here, I think it stirred up the old guy’s memory.
Remember how he was? Asking strange questions.
And I think Ruth felt like he might say something about Carol that would get Alex into trouble. I think she did it to protect Alex.”
I wonder if anyone here knows that Alex is Ruth’s son. It all makes sense.
Aubrey straightens and wipes her cheeks.
“I need to see Dale.” She turns to me. “He knows I’m back.
I told him everything on the phone. He’s upset with me, of course.
” She sniffs. “But I’m hopeful we can work it out.
I told him I’d come over to the house after I left the police station this morning.
I just stopped by to tell Noah that I was okay and to pluck up my courage. ”
“Dale will be thrilled to see you, Aubrey,” Noah says. “You guys will get through this.” He walks her to the door.
After Aubrey leaves, Noah sits heavily in the chair opposite me. “What a crazy twenty-four hours.”
“Absolutely,” I say. “I need to go next door and get my things.”
“I’ll go with you,” Noah says.
I lean forward, place my hand on Noah’s knee. “First, I want to tell you something.” I glance at Wyatt, and he smiles his encouragement.
“What?” Noah’s eyes are wide behind his glasses.
“The woman who helped me up in northern Maine, Nina Garrett, but that’s not her real name. The woman who helped me is Mary Spencer.”
All the color drains from Noah’s face. His mouth hangs open. “What?”
I fill him in. Wyatt helps with the details. There are tears in Noah’s eyes when we finish. “I never would’ve guessed in a million years. God, I’d like to see her.”
“You’ll probably have to come up to see us, Noah,” Wyatt says. “I don’t think she ever wants to come back here.”
“Of course not, right. Who would blame her?” Noah leans back in his chair as if all the strength has left his body. “Just when you thought things couldn’t get any weirder.”
I give him a minute, then stand. “Do you want to go with us, Wyatt? Over to Spencer House?”
“Totally up to you, Emma. I’m here to assist any way I can.”
I think for a minute. “Maybe you want to see where Mary grew up?”
“Wouldn’t mind.”
The three of us leave Noah’s and stop out front, talk to the young cop who’s guarding what is a crime scene.
He radios someone higher up. A couple of minutes later, Detective Bellman exits Ruth’s house, his white hair blowing in the cold breeze.
The cop tells him who Wyatt is and that we want to go into the house to retrieve my things.
He gives his approval, giving me a long look, and we head inside with the young cop to supervise and make sure we don’t compromise the crime scene.
The house is cold and eerily silent. My suitcases, laptop bag, and purse are still waiting for me in the foyer, the last place I left them.
I’m surprised that Alex didn’t dispose of them.
I guess he hadn’t gotten to them yet. I peek around the arched doorway into the front room, which is entirely taped off.
This is where Carol died. I glance at the fireplace, at the creepy inscription.
Tempus Fugit. Memento Mori
(“Time Flies. Remember death”)
I take a deep breath. I’ve seen enough. It’s time to go.
Outside the wind is biting cold. We pause on the porch as Ruth, in handcuffs, is guided to a patrol car. She stops, looks longingly back at her house, then Spencer House. She doesn’t seem to notice us, her thoughts probably somewhere else, thinking of better times.
After the car pulls away, we start back to Noah’s. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sunny striding toward us. I step away from the men. “Let me talk to her alone,” I say.
Sunny’s chin quivers, her blond hair, free from its ponytail, whips and tangles in the wind.
“How could you show your face here, Emma!”
“I just came to get my things. You’ll never see me again.”
“You’re damn right. If you ever come back here, I’ll … I’ll …” Angry tears cover her cheeks. “How could you do this to my father. He was so good to you!”
“I’m not going to talk to you about Alex.”
“What now? You’ll write a book about us all and make a fortune at our expense. I bet you’ll love that. You’ll become the big-deal author you always wanted to be. Well, watch what you say. I’ve got a good lawyer, and he’ll sue you for everything!”
“You’re right. I’ll write a book, but not about the Spencers. I wouldn’t waste my time. But I do have a novel in mind about a stone-cold bitch who gets what she deserves.” With that, I turn and head back to Noah and Wyatt.