Authors: Allison Brennan
The attack that totaled her rental, however much it wasn’t her fault, was going to make leasing future cars far more expensive.
William and Caitlin lived in a grand house around the corner from Eleanor’s estate. The estate was definitely more Caitlin, with luxurious everything—though William made a six-figure salary at his law firm, plus ample bonuses, he couldn’t afford to buy or maintain the house. The house had been a wedding present from Caitlin’s family, and William’s trust fund ran the place. It bordered on ostentatious, unlike the quiet money of her grandmother’s home.
Max walked up to the front door and knocked.
Caitlin opened it and slapped her.
Max would have stopped the blow had she been expecting it, but even she was surprised at Caitlin’s sudden move.
“Touch me again, and I will put you on the ground,” Max said.
“Get out of here. You’re not welcome.”
Max walked in. “Where’s William?”
“He doesn’t want to talk to you.” Caitlin tried to push Max back out the door, but Max grabbed her wrist and held tight.
“Caitlin, Maxine, please stop.” William stepped into the entry and stared at Max. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a Scotch and ice—mostly Scotch—in his glass. It was twelve thirty.
“She’s destroying our family!”
Max ignored her and stared at William. She really, really looked at him.
For years, she’d trusted her instincts about people. Perhaps, fighting her inclination to distrust people, she relied on her gut feelings.
But family was different. Family members weren’t strangers, they had history and baggage and secrets. With all their shared history, the dreams they’d discussed, the times they snuck out of their houses and met up to swim in the lake under the moonlight, long before they were truly aware of who they were, their similarities and differences, could Max stand here and look at William as a killer?
“We need to talk,” she said.
William nodded and turned toward his study. Caitlin tried to follow, but Max stopped her. “This is between William and me,” she said.
Caitlin ignored her, until William nodded. His wife looked pained and betrayed. Then she stomped down the hall, angry. A moment later a door slammed somewhere in the house.
William closed the double doors, refilled his half-empty glass, and sat down heavily on the couch. His normally impeccable suit was rumpled, his tie misaligned. This was her GQ cousin, who never had a hair out of place, looking like a worn salesman.
Max didn’t know what to say.
“Andy thinks I killed Lindy,” William said bluntly.
“Did you?”
He shook his head and looked like he was going to cry. William had always been sensitive, even when being a cad. He teared up at movies. He didn’t like violence. He told Max two years ago, when she visited for Thea’s wedding, that the best thing about having two boys was that he could be here for them like his father wasn’t there for William. Except for college, William had never lived more than two miles from his father, yet Brooks Revere might as well have lived on another continent for all the attention he paid to his son. shook his head. “95 fd p
Except William was falling into the same patterns as Brooks. Infidelity being the number one similarity. Did William not see that he was becoming his dad?
“I told you before, and I’ll tell you now, and I’ll tell anyone who asks, I didn’t kill Lindy. I’m stunned and hurt that Andy thinks I did. That he thinks I’m capable of, of strangling her. You know me, Max. At least, I thought you did. I always thought you could read my mind when we were younger, that you knew what I was thinking even if I said something different.”
“So did I.”
“You did. Really. I don’t like my sister. Nora’s rigid and judgmental and mean. You were always more of a sister to me than she ever was.”
“Nora used to rat us out for breaking the rules. Like when we snuck out and took Brooks’s car to San Francisco for the day.”
“Neither of us had our license.”
“We had a blast.”
“I was grounded for a month.”
“A month? I was grounded for two.”
“They like me more.” He gave her a wistful smile.
“Tell me what you and Lindy were fighting about the night she died.”
“I told you—I wanted to go public with our relationship.”
“Weren’t you dating Caitlin?”
“Not then—we’d broken up after prom, remember?”
“Why’d you and Caitlin break up?”
He didn’t say anything.
“William, you know, this will all come out eventually. If you can’t tell me, you’re only going to make everything worse. Let me help you.”
“Caitlin was clingy—I wanted to end it before college. So I told Caitlin we needed time apart. She was cool with it, and then she started dating what’s his name, um—”
“Peter something.”
“Right. He was at Stanford.”
“She wanted to make you jealous.”
William dismissed that. “I told Lindy that I was going to break up with Caitlin, and when she and Kevin broke up I thought she was ready to be with me. Because Lindy and I knew when we left for college, that would be it. But, she was mad about this other girl I dated for a while. It wasn’t serious, I swear, and it was over, but she wouldn’t let it go.” He rubbed his eyes. “I wasn’t always faithful.”
“You still aren’t,” she said. He looked stricken, but Max knew that finally, now was the time that William needed to turn his life around. “I love you, William. I always have. You’re going to get through this, and you need to make some changes. Like firing Minnie.”
“This has nothing to do with that.”
She didn’t know what to say to make him understand, maybe he never would.
He stared at her, his eyes pleading with her. “Do you believe me, Max? Do you have the faith in me that you had in Kevin O’Neal?”
What was she supposed to say? No? Yes? I don’t know? She wanted desperately to believe William. But she didn#in. f’t understand him. She didn’t understand why he cheated on Caitlin, why he had slept with Lindy when she was dating Kevin, and all the other girls he’d been with in high school and presumably in college. She didn’t understand why he was sleeping with his secretary, and why he didn’t see that he was becoming just like Brooks.
But she knew him, and he was gentle. Could he strangle Lindy with his hands? Never showing regret? Never questioning where Lindy’s body had been found? Not say anything when another man was tried for her murder?
The William she knew might have—might have—killed Lindy if he snapped in anger, but it would have been an accident. The perpetual silence would have eaten him up. He was a mess now, knowing what his best friend had done, what his best friend believed about him. That Andy had destroyed evidence because he thought he was protecting William. If he had killed Lindy, he would have b="TX" aid="OPE
Chapter Twenty-four
It was nearly three, and since Max was so close to Atherton Prep, she swung over to the construction site. She found Brian Robeaux talking to the foreman, Roger Lawrence. Brian approached her as soon as he recognized her.
“Ms. Revere, can I help you?”
“I was hoping to take a few pictures for an article I’m writing about Jason’s murder.”
“Absolutely. Anything you need.”
She must have looked surprised—usually, she had an uphill battle getting access to crime scenes, even from the family. They sometimes didn’t know how she was going to present the information or show their loved one.
“Thank you.”
“Anything, really. Detective Santini came by this morning to talk to my sister and Michael. He said they’ve moved Jason’s case back up to a priority. He explained that Jason was most likely killed because of that grave you found.”
“Santini’s a smart cop.”
“But if you hadn’t pushed, I wouldn’t have remembered about Jason’s concern about the digging, it just wasn’t something I connected.”
“Sometimes, shook his head. “ with g questions.” Mr. Robeaux, a case needs a fresh set of eyes. That’s what I gave, but Santini’s going to be the one to solve it.”
“He told us that whoever killed and buried the woman thought her body might be found during construction. Even though those trees are outside of the construction plan, the killer may not have known that, or he might have thought we’d be laying pipes or cables.”
Max nodded. “That makes sense. And after all these years, he didn’t remember where he’d buried the body, that’s why Jason found the small, deep holes.”
“Detective Santini thinks when they identify the remains, they’ll find a suspect.”
Max held up her camera. “I won’t be long. And you can tell Jason’s parents that I’m writing about his life and what he accomplished. His murder is not going to be sensationalized.”
“No one is worried about that. We just appreciate everything you’ve done. Again, anything you need, you let me know. Be careful over there—the police released the area yesterday, but it’s been dug up and picked through. I wouldn’t want you twisting your ankle like Mr. Pierce.”
“I’ll be careful. Thank you.”
She took her Canon digital camera and snapped a few pictures of the beginning of construction, of the trees, of the old gymnasium that attached to the pool house where Lindy’s body had been found. Nick’s theory that the victim in the grave may have something to do with Lindy’s death had been on Max’s mind. If Jason had been killed because he’d caught someone removing the body, maybe Lindy had been killed because she saw someone burying the body in the first place.
Could it really be that simple?
Simple, perhaps, as to the killer’s motive, but until they identified the remains from the grave, nearly impossible to use to identify the killer.
Max could see the top of Lindy’s clubhouse about seventy yards down the stone wall, on the other side. Could Lindy have been watching from the top floor? Maybe saw a flashlight and investigated? Why investigate and not just call the police?
Because nothing bad ever happened in Atherton. They’d all felt exceptionally safe growing up, and it was Lindy—the girl who lived for secrets. If Lindy thought anyone was hanging around, she’d assume they were up to something and would want to know who and what.
Except, if someone was digging a grave, why wouldn’t they have put Lindy’s body in it?
That was easy—Lindy would have been reported missing. Which suggested that if this theory was accurate, the victim was someone who wouldn’t be missed.
And why hadn’t the police searched the area and found the grave? If it was fresh when Lindy had been killed, wouldn’t they have found it? Or was it far enough away from the pool that no one looked?
Maybe Lindy’s death had nothing to do with the grave at all. Just because the bones might have been buried roughly the same time as Lindy’s murder didn’t mean that the victim had been buried the very same night.
Max finished with the pictures, then walked among the trees again, toward the old gate in the wall. Until Carson Salter explained how screwed up the crime scene was, she hadn’t realized that the gate might have been used by the killer. If it was, the killer must have known Lindy, at least as an acquaintance. Anyone from the school might have known Lindy us shook his head. “k. fed the gate, and of course her friends. But what about a stranger?
None of this was helping William, Max thought as she walked back to the construction trailers.
Nick’s Bronco was parked next to her grandmother’s Jag, but she didn’t see Nick anywhere.
Her curiosity was definitely aroused. Forensics had released the crime scene, so there didn’t seem to be any reason to be here, unless Nick had more questions. If he had more questions for Brian and his staff, then maybe he had new information.
Max glanced around. She didn’t see Nick, or hear his voice. Or anyone else. She walked over to Nick’s Bronco and noted it was unlocked. On the front seat, just like the other day, were his case files.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the passenger door and flipped open the top file, which was a preliminary lab report from the grave site. She skimmed the information—some of it Nick had already told her. But there was new information—confirmation that the victim was female, between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one. Testing of the dirt showed that the body had decomposed at the site and had been buried approximately four feet below the surface.
She turned the page and saw a lab photo of the bones, plus the earring Nick had mentioned, as well as part of a broken bracelet with a silver butterfly attached. Max pulled out her phone and took a picture of the charm. It looked familiar, but she didn’t know why.
The trailer door opened and Max closed the file, but stayed next to the Bronco. Nick was going to be suspicious, but why give him more reason to be?
He caught her eye, his expression unreadable. He shook Brian’s hand, then walked over to her. “Why are you in my car?”
“Waiting for you.”
He frowned and looked at the files on his seat. “Max—”
“I just looked at the lab report. I swear.”
He sighed. “I have your boards in the back, if you want to take them. I was going to drop them off later tonight, but I have plans I can’t break.”
“Thanks.”
He retrieved the three trifolds from the back of the Bronco and put them in the small trunk of her Jag. “Nice car.”
“My grandma’s.”
He smiled. “I think I’d like her.”
Max tried hard not to laugh. Nick raised his eyebrows and took a step closer. For a moment, Max thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he grabbed her camera from around her neck, pulled her close, and turned the camera around so he could scroll through her pictures.
She wanted to slap him, she wanted to kiss him, but mostly she was relieved that she’d already pocketed her cell phone that she’d used to snap the picture of the broken bracelet.
“For your article?” he said.
“Yes. Not that it’s your business.”
He stood, only the camera’s width between them. “Oh? Didn’t you promise you wouldn’t write an article without talking to me first?”
“I haven’t written the article yet.”
“Are you?”
“Can’t you trust me on this?”