“No, Warren’s right,” the old woman wheezed. “She was bent on keeping Jackson … no compromise. She wouldn’t have done anything … to jeopardize the custody battle.”
Holly was getting weary of the conversation. “I know you’re upset. I understand everything you’re going through, and I know it’s doubly worse for you, Mrs. Haughton, because of your cancer and everything. But please, I’m just asking you to give us a little time. Please, just go and let us take care of him tonight.”
She opened the front door and stepped out onto the front porch, allowing Mrs. Haughton the room to shuffle out. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said again. “Mrs. Haughton, are you gonna be okay?”
Annalee’s mother didn’t answer. She just focused on getting down the porch steps.
“Warren, call me if you need anything. I can bring food.”
“We don’t need anything from you or anybody else in your family,” Warren clipped.
She waited until they got in their car, and then she went back in. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and read Jay’s email again. A thin layer of perspiration formed on her lip. She slid the glass door open and stepped out on the back patio. “Juliet, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Juliet was getting out of the pool. She put a towel around her shoulders and came toward Holly. “What is it?”
“Mrs. Haughton and Warren were just here,” Holly whispered.
Juliet brought her hand to her mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“They wanted to take Jackson. But I talked them into waiting.”
“Good,” Juliet whispered. “I appreciate that.”
“Come sit down with me a minute,” Holly said. “I need to show you something.”
They pulled chairs together next to the pool so they could keep an eye on the kids. Jackson had floaties on his arms and played near the steps at the shallow end. Abe splashed around him.
“What is it?” Juliet said.
Holly handed her her cell phone with the email pulled up. “I just noticed this email. Jay sent it, minutes before the murder.”
Juliet stiffened and took the phone, read it. Holly watched the color in her face change.
“Oh no,” she whispered. She stared at the phone. “He didn’t mean he was going to kill her. He probably had some new strategy for working things out with her.”
“I’m just worried how it looks,” Holly said.
“Who did he send it to?”
“All three of us.”
“No! This is bad.”
“Aunt Juliet! Look at me!” Jackson called from the pool. “I can do a somersault in the water.”
Juliet forced a smile, then nodded as Jackson did a somersault. “That’s good, Jackson! Do another one!”
She waited as he did, then cheered again. After a second, her expression crashed again. “What should we do? Should we call Cathy?”
“Probably,” Holly said. “I’m thinking I could go to Jay’s house, get on his computer, and delete it.”
“No, that’s not right. We can’t tamper with evidence.”
“But we can’t let them find it …”
“They’d find it anyway. Besides, it’s wrong. We can’t do that.”
Holly’s face twisted. “Why did he write it?”
“I don’t know,” Juliet said. “But I think our brother is in a lot of trouble.”
CHAPTER 14
Cathy took Michael’s advice and showed the police the email that came from Jay’s account.
“So let me get this straight,” Al said, studying Jay. “You want us to believe you didn’t send this email?”
“I didn’t send it,” Jay said. “The killer sent this email. This is evidence you can’t ignore.”
“Sure is,” Max muttered, his chin in his palm.
“Not evidence indicting Jay,” Cathy said. “Max, you have to connect the dots here. The email that came to Jay from Annalee’s computer. The email that supposedly came from Jay. It all leads somewhere. You can track down servers. You can use this to find the real killer.”
“And so what if the server they were all sent from was Annalee’s?” Max asked. “That doesn’t prove anything. Jay still could have sent them from the house before he called 911.”
Jay slammed his hand on the table. “Aren’t you listening? Are you deaf?”
Cathy put her hand over Jay’s. “Max, the killer’s jerking you around too. You can check the timing of Jay’s story. What time he sent his reply to Annalee from his office server, what time this email came from wherever it came from. You can talk to his secretary about when he left. You can check his gas station receipt. This clown is playing an intricately planned game. If you don’t follow these leads, he’s going to make you look like a clown. He’s probably getting a real laugh out of all this right now.”
“Maybe you’re the one laughing at us, Jay,” Al said.
“Al, you have to listen,” Cathy said. “If you care that there’s a murderer out there getting away with it on your watch, then you’ll check out Jay’s story.”
Max looked at Jay. “We’re gonna need your computer and all your login information.”
“No problem,” Jay said.
“We’ll go get it and bring it back to you,” Cathy said.
“Or we could go get it,” Max said. “You don’t mind us going into your apartment, do you?”
Jay started to answer, but Cathy touched his hand, stopping him. “You don’t have a warrant, gentlemen. We’ll bring you the computer.”
“I don’t have anything to hide,” Jay said. “I’ll give them my key.”
“Absolutely not,” Cathy said.
Max looked at Jay again. “It’s your call, Jay. We can get a warrant.”
Cathy shot Jay an adamant look. “I guess I’ll take my attorney’s advice,” he said. “But I can get the computer to you tonight. I can get Michael to bring it in.”
Cathy wanted to kick herself for offering it at all. It was sloppy attorney work. In an ordinary case, she would have searched through every email Jay had sent in the last year before she handed over the computer, so she’d know what the police would find. On the other hand, they would have seized it tonight anyway. They had enough to establish probable cause. Any judge would issue a search warrant, if not an arrest warrant, based on the incriminating email alone.
“I’m giving it to you in good faith,” she said. “I know there’s nothing on it that will implicate Jay, because he isn’t guilty. I’m assuming you’re also looking at Annalee’s computer. You’ll be able to tell if the killer signed onto Jay’s account from it, and compare it to Jay’s documented whereabouts at the time. Maybe there are prints on her keyboard. There are tangled threads in all this, and it’s your job to untangle them.”
Her words clearly didn’t smooth out Max’s ruffled feathers. “We’re going to untangle them, Cathy.”
“Did we do a stupid thing by showing the letter to you?” Jay asked. “Are you going to make me regret it?”
Max shoved his chair back from the table and got up. “Go home, Jay. You haven’t been charged with anything.”
“So you’ll follow through on these leads?” Jay pressed.
Max took a deep breath. “Take him home, Cathy. He’s about to make me mad.”
Relieved that they hadn’t arrested him, she walked Jay back out to her car. The midnight air was cool. Cathy crossed her arms and groped for some positive thoughts. But she couldn’t seem to find any.
“They’re going to arrest me tomorrow, aren’t they?” Jay asked in a dull voice.
“Maybe not,” she said. It was the best she could offer him.
CHAPTER 15
Cathy glanced over at her brother in the dark car. His head was leaned back on the seat, his eyes closed. Grief and misery pulled at his face, and in the occasional headlights, he looked much older than thirty.
“Jay, are you sure you didn’t send that email?” He opened his eyes. “You don’t believe me?”
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“I do, but it’s been a traumatic day, and you might have forgotten.”
“Cathy, I would never write those words. What could I possibly have meant? No, the same person who sent the email to me from Annalee’s computer also hacked into my email account. And he’s getting away with this.”
It was beginning to rain. She turned her wipers on and tried to see through the blur on her windshield.
“So the killer was with her when he got on your account and wrote the email that went out to us. Then he got on her account and sent the email inviting you over.”
“Or he made her send it.” A haunted expression came over his face. “He must have tortured her before he killed her. How long was he there with her?”
She didn’t want to imagine it. “I don’t think she wrote it. It wasn’t her style at all. When he sent the email inviting you over, she might have already been dead. He turned on the water and waited for you to come. Then bopped out and passed you, so you’d get a good look at him.”
“So I’d sound like an idiot when I told the truth.”
Yes, that was exactly what he’d planned. She drove quietly for a moment, trying to think through the resources the police department would have. They could trace the emails back to the servers from which they were sent. That could prove that they hadn’t been sent from Jay’s home or office. The timeline would surely prove he couldn’t have committed the murder, wouldn’t it? Or would they simply think he’d killed her, then rushed back to his office to create his alibi? Who knew how Max and Al would think or how they would present it to the DA?
“What has he done to me?”
“Let’s just go in and talk to Juliet and Holly.”
She cut the car off. Jay grabbed her arm before she could get out. “Sis, I hope you believe me. Somebody’s setting me up. I’m being framed. They’re going to arrest me.”
“Don’t panic. Just take care of Jackson and yourself. Get some sleep. I’m working on this.”
“What am I gonna tell him? How do I tell my child that he’s never going to see his mother again? I didn’t want to win custody this way. It’ll break his heart and traumatize him for life.”
“He’s probably asleep by now. You don’t have to do it tonight.”
The grief on his face ripped open Cathy’s old wounds. “I just need to say good night to him,” he said. “I need to hold him and talk to him.” His voice broke, and he covered his face again. “What if he wakes up? What if he asks me where his mother is?”
“You just tell him that you’re having a sleepover at Juliet’s. Tomorrow, when you’re fresh, when you’ve had time to think, you can tell him. He has the rest of his life to deal with it.” Her voice broke as she said those words.
“The rest of his life.”
The rain pounded harder, hitting the windshield in dime-sized dots.
“I loved my wife, Cathy. I didn’t want to lose her. I wasn’t the one who started all this. If I could’ve had my deepest wishes, I would’ve saved my marriage. I still love her.”
“I know that, Jay. I believe you.”
“The public’s gonna try me and convict me. They’ll start speculating, and everything is gonna add up to me being a killer. The same kind of person that you talk about on your blog.”
Suddenly, it hit Cathy. The note she had gotten on her windshield that day. The one that threatened her, told her to enjoy the ride, if she survived it. What had it said? She tried to think of the exact words. Did she have a copy in her purse? In all the chaos with Jay, she’d completely forgotten about it. She grabbed her purse and looked through it, but didn’t find the note. She’d left the copy at home. She had gotten the call about Jay and run out.
“Cathy, are you listening to me?”
Her heart raced. “I have to call Michael.”
“About the email?”
“No. Yes … that and some other stuff. I need to think. Let’s go in and I’ll call from inside.”
She followed Jay into the house. He accepted hugs and tears as Juliet and Holly fawned over him, got him something to eat and drink, sat him down and massaged his shoulders. They weren’t pelting him with questions, which was good. They were just letting him talk and unwind.
She took her phone and went into an empty room to call Michael.
He answered quickly. “Cathy, did they let him go?”
“Yeah,” she said. “We’re at Juliet’s. But listen, I’ve been thinking of something. The note on my windshield this afternoon … It said that I was about to see what it felt like to have people speculate and judge. That I’m about to have a bumpy ride. You don’t think it’s about this, do you?”
Michael was silent for a moment. “I hadn’t connected it. With all the stuff with Jay …”
She went to the window, looked out into the night. The families on Juliet’s street seemed to be sleeping. Few lights shone in the windows. No cars drove by. If there were stalkers, she couldn’t see them. “It has to be connected,” she said. “Whoever wrote that note set Jay up. We have to let Max know it might be connected. The prints on that note might be the prints of the killer.”
“I’ll call him right now.”
She hoped his brother would pay attention.
CHAPTER 16
Jay hadn’t slept a wink, and when Jackson bounced awake that morning, Juliet distracted him with pancakes.
Now, as Jay sat outside by Juliet’s pool with his child, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.
“I like skipping school today,” Jackson said. “How come you don’t have to work on Tuesday?”
“I took the day off so I could hang out with you.”
Jackson beamed and sipped from his juice box. “Would Mommy let us do it again?”
Jay’s heart seemed to have swollen too big for his chest cavity, each beat painful. Yes, now was the time. He couldn’t keep putting Jackson off. “Come here, buddy.”
Jackson abandoned his juice box on a wrought-iron table and came to sit on Jay’s lap. “What?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
As his son looked up at him, waiting, Jay blinked back tears and glanced toward the glass patio doors. Juliet stood there watching him. She turned away when their eyes met.
Jay looked down at Jackson. “Buddy, something bad has happened to Mommy.”
Jackson’s round gaze narrowed. “What happened?”
“Mommy … well, she … Somebody hurt her. We don’t know who it was yet.”
“How did they hurt her?”
Jay hesitated. Should he tell his kindergartner that his mother was shot in cold blood? Was it necessary for him to know that she’d bled out in the bathtub? He cleared his throat and hoped Jackson couldn’t feel him shaking.
“The person … well … he had a gun … and he shot Mommy.”
Jackson’s face twisted. “Is she in the hospital?”
“No, son.” He tightened his arms around him, not wanting Jackson to see his face. “Mommy’s not in the hospital. She was hurting so bad that Jesus decided to take her on to heaven.”
Jackson’s mouth fell open. “Huh-uh. She’s not dead!”
“Son, I know it’s hard …”
Jackson jerked away and slid off his lap, glaring at him, red-faced. “She did not go to heaven! She’s not dead! I want to call her!” He grabbed for Jay’s phone in the holster on his belt. “Gimme your phone!”
“Honey, she’s not there.”
“Yes, she is!” Jackson screamed. “I wanna talk to Mommy!”
Jay reached for him, but Jackson wouldn’t come. He backed away, getting too close to the pool. Jay got up and grabbed him, wrestled him, and held him close as he squirmed. “Son, I’m so sorry. I love you. And I loved her.”
“No, you didn’t! You hated her! You never came over. You didn’t even talk to her or call her!”
How could Jackson ever understand that those hadn’t been Jay’s choices?
Unable to hold back his own tears
any longer, Jay began to weep. After a moment, Jackson stopped fighting. Jay felt his little boy’s shoulders shaking as a low, sobbing moan erupted from his throat.
“You’re always mad at each other,” Jackson choked out.
Jay couldn’t deny that. Jackson had seen and heard them fighting before the attorneys told them not to talk to each other. Memories flew back of Jay’s reaction to learning Annalee was cheating on him. The rage had overwhelmed him.
Jackson had heard that screaming fight and all the accusations. When Jay packed his things to move out, Jackson locked his arms around Jay’s leg and begged him not to go. Annalee had wrestled him off and ordered Jay out of the house. He’d closed the door to the sound of his son’s anguish. But that was well over a year ago.
“I didn’t want her to die,” Jay rasped.
Jackson wiped his face and pulled back, looking up at him. “Are they gonna put the shooter in jail?”
“They will when they find him.”
Jackson rubbed his eyes too hard. “She didn’t even tell me ‘bye.”
“She wanted to, buddy. She wanted that more than anything.”
They clung together for a long moment, weeping against each other’s shirts. Finally, Jackson said, “Are you gonna come live with me now?”
“Yes,” Jay whispered. “It’s you and me, buddy.”
CHAPTER 17
As expected, the police got the search warrant for Jay’s apartment. There was nothing Cathy could do to stop it.
Exhausted after only a couple of fitful hours of sleep, she poured herself a tall cup of black coffee and decided to head to Michael’s for a strategy session.
She went out to her car but didn’t put the key in the ignition. For a moment she just sat there in the darkness of her garage, staring at her windshield.
“God, what are you doing to our family?”
She’d had an on-again off-again relationship with God since she was a child. Sometimes she’d been on speaking terms with him, and other times she’d had the crushing sense that he had something against her. What had she and her siblings done to deserve the way their lives had unfolded?