Chapter Sixty-Three Judson
Chapter Sixty-Three
Judson
Edith Durant’s cottage sat on the western edge of the Hale estate, near the old barns. Dense woods blocked any view of Hale House, but a direct path cut through less than a mile of trees. An easy walk. Too easy.
I passed neat flower beds near the front door.
Edith and Gabe Durant had lived here almost twenty-five years.
Despite Gabe’s high school dreams of playing in the NFL, he’d lived and died within a couple of miles from where he’d started—except for his time in prison. Circling back. A theme for us all.
My knock drew a quick response. Edith opened the door, dressed in jeans and a crisp white shirt. “Judson.”
The old-timers didn’t call me Agent. It didn’t bother me, but it divided those from my past and present.
“Mrs. Durant.”
Her jaw clenched. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry about Gabe and Maria. Both were good friends. Gabe was a good son.”
Something in her posture softened. “No one has said that to me yet. Thank you.”
“I’m doing everything I can to solve this.”
She frowned at me. “He was a good man. Husband. Father.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You won’t have to look far to solve these crimes.”
I let the silence stretch until it pressed on her. “Clarify?”
Her arms folded. Fresh grief burned under her words. “Raine Hale. She did this. She’s the only one that benefits from all of them being dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Maria and Gabe were filing for a share of the Hale estate, and Raine knew it. Now she’ll keep everything she inherited.”
“Who told you?”
“Gabe. They weren’t asking for a huge amount, but it would have helped them. No one wanted to sue, but Raine wouldn’t give an inch.”
“Yet Raine lent money to Maria often, didn’t she?”
“She stopped helping. Gave no reason. Just said no, no matter how much Maria begged.”
“Gabe told you this?”
“Yes. My son trusted me.” Her eyes glinted. “Raine’s mother was the same—made you work for every dime. Never gave out bonuses.”
“Tell me about Gabe and Maria’s marriage?”
“They were happy for a long, long time. But Gabe made some foolish choices.”
“His arrests.”
She frowned. “He was drinking—not in his right mind. Maria and Molly were struggling. She didn’t want to move back to Hale land. But she couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. When Gabe got out, he moved into the cottage.”
“What about Amy Stocker?”
Edith’s mouth thinned. “Not a good choice. But a man has his limits.”
“What pushed him? Money?”
“And Maria’s nagging. All the Hales were demanding. Gabe hated her tone but wanted that settlement money. He’d earned it.”
“How?”
“He worked hard. Life never gave him breaks. The economy hasn’t helped.”
“Maria stood by him when he was in prison.”
“She should have. The charges never should’ve been filed. He was defending himself.”
Mrs. Durant had never been an easy woman. Time, and now grief, had sent her deeper into bitterness. “What reason would Raine have to kill any of them?”
“That girl always had trouble brewing in her head. I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed her mother, too.”
“Mrs. Hale?”
“As long as Mrs. Hale was alive, Raine was trapped here. She wanted out. Wanted college.”
“I thought she was loyal to her mother.”
“She saw to her needs. But there was no love.”
“Why?”
“Mrs. Hale shipped Raine off to boarding school when she was ten. And Raine stayed there until the family ran out of money and Mrs. Hale needed her help.”
“You knew Mrs. Hale well, didn’t you?”
“I worked for her for six years. I was the house manager. When I kept the house running, she never had a complaint.”
“When did her health decline?”
“Never great. She was always delicate. Fragile. And then when Mr. Hale died, she went downhill very quickly. Grief can do that.”
“Did Raine ask you to care for her mother?”
“No. She knew I had my hands full with the house and the land.”
“What do you remember about Amy?”
“She came from foster care. Worked at Hale House. I warned Raine not to hire her, but she didn’t listen. I told Raine I caught her going through drawers in her room. Frankly, she was the last person who should’ve prowled Hale House.”
“Any drug use while Amy was employed at Hale House?”
“No. I’d have called the police if I’d seen that.”
“Did Mr. Hale know Amy or her family?”
Her brow furrowed. “Why would he?”
“Amy told her foster sister that Mr. Hale was her biological father.”
She laughed. “No.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“He might have strayed, but not that low.”
Though it wasn’t likely Mr. Hale was Amy’s father, it was common knowledge he was very willing to stray. “You still oversee the property?”
“Not like I did, but I do keep an eye on it. That’s why Raine let me stay in my house.”
“And if Raine sells?”
A flicker of unease crossed her face. “I haven’t thought about that.”
“How did Mrs. Hale get outside the day she died?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “We kept her door locked from the outside.”
“Could the lock have slipped?”
“Would’ve been hard to do. The lock was secure.”
“Do you think Amy was involved?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. She wanted to be Raine. We all saw it. Maybe she thought killing Mrs. Hale was helping Raine, and she’d be rewarded. With Mrs. Hale dead, there was nothing holding Raine back.”
“Was Amy dating anyone?”
“I caught her talking on the phone to a guy a few times.”
“How do you know it was a guy?”
“You know. A girl drops her voice, twirls her hair, smiles. She always ended the call when she saw me.”
“Did you discuss your concerns with Raine?”
“I did. She never listened. Had it all figured out.”
“Figured out?”
“She hires a dangerous look-alike, and then turns her back. Matter of time before something bad happened.”
I shifted my thoughts back to Raine. “I thought you liked Raine.”
“I did. But the house and Raine changed after her father died. She became more reckless. Partied too much. And then she pulled that stunt.”
“Stunt?”
“She swallowed a bottle of pills, cut her wrist. Nearly died. I could never forgive her for that. So selfish.”
I’d never blamed Raine for her suicide attempt. If anything, I wished I’d known her then. Maybe I could have helped.
“She was a troubled teen,” I said.
Edith’s gaze hardened. “You and Raine were close in high school. Don’t fall for her again, Judson. She’s just as volatile now as she was then. That’s why I won’t let her have Molly.”
I hadn’t seen any red flags. “My eyes are wide open.”
“You sure about that, Judson? The way you look at her . . . You’re still in love.”
Her words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. Seventeen years hadn’t dulled the sting of losing Raine. I hadn’t planned to rekindle anything with her—but here I was falling into the same trap. I couldn’t prove whether she was innocent in all this or was the catalyst for these deaths.
I steadied my voice. “Thank you for your time, Edith.”