Authors: Beth Szymkowski
Runaways (4 page)
“Yes. I was having an affair with the dead man’s wife,” Van de Sant said with resignation, maintaining his best poker face. He vowed to expel that little monstrosity Glinda the first chance he got. If she so much as littered, he’d boot her. “I realize the implication.”
What an implication it was. Of all the people to get murdered, it had to be his mistress’s husband. Van de Sant knew it looked bad, but he told the detectives the truth. “I did not kill William Abernathy. While Olivia and I are involved, you must
understand there is no ill will among the parties.
Was
no ill will. Bill Abernathy was an agreeable cuckold, one might say. Cuckold in that he was being cheated on.”
“Is that what cuckold means? Gee. I didn’t know.” The older detective’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“He knew his wife had outside relationships. Bill and Olivia had what some might call an open marriage. Please, ask Olivia about the specifics of their agreement. I personally preferred not to hear the details. Olivia and I have been discreet, certainly, but not because of fear of discovery by spouses. We were much more concerned with keeping up appearances in the community.”
“Of course.”
The detective was being adversarial and Van de Sant bristled, but he had to make his case. “Why would I provide you with details about what might be the murder weapon if I were the guilty party? Surely you realize how illogical that would be.”
“Where were you last night?” the younger detective asked.
Van de Sant nodded. Finally, a relevant question. “I was with Olivia. At the EconoLodge off I-Ninety-Five.” The older detective’s face was still, but Van de Sant knew he was judging the choice of accommodations. “Olivia likes it there. We, of course, could go to my home, but a hotel provides a certain anonymity that can be freeing.” Olivia liked a lot of things he didn’t feel the need to
share. When he told them about the affair, he thought the detectives might have been a bit impressed. Olivia was a fine specimen of womanhood. Just thinking about her taut body sent a pleasing current through him.
He was at her mercy really. The affair had already put him in a compromising position and made him shirk professional responsibility, but he couldn’t bring himself to break it off. Mason Henry should be grateful to Olivia. She’s the only reason he was still a student on campus and not some gangster’s punching bag in a public school. When Mason attacked Jared Slater, Van de Sant was ready to punish him. It would’ve been standard. But Mason’s father had come to him and told him if he kicked Mason out, he would leak the affair between him and Olivia. It was blackmail, pure and simple. Olivia would have been embarrassed by the disclosure, but Van de Sant would have been ruined. The Danbury board of trustees would have fired him. He was good at his job and they respected that, but he was not one of them. Sleeping with someone in their social strata would not be tolerated.
“Why are you even bothering to dredge up this nonsense?” Van de Sant looked at the detectives. “Isn’t it obvious who killed Bill? Surely you don’t think it’s a coincidence that Mason and Kaylee ran away the same night her father was murdered?”
Olivia watched Anne leave the room after her great declaration about Olivia having an affair. What a little bitch. Olivia knew she wasn’t particularly close with her daughters, but that revelation was really uncalled for.
She turned back to the detectives. “My husband and I have an arrangement. We are, were, good friends who no longer felt the passion of a new relationship, but we didn’t want to divorce and break up our family.”
“So you had affairs?” The older detective seemed completely nonplussed.
“Basically, yes.”
“So your husband, he was having affairs too?”
“I’m sure he wasn’t celibate.”
“Who was he sleeping with?”
“I have no idea,” Olivia replied with scorn. “We had an agreement. We weren’t schoolgirls sharing details about our latest crushes.”
“Did he know about your relationship with Jeremy Van de Sant?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. We’ve been discreet.” Olivia thought briefly of that odd student, Glinda, who saw her coming out of Jeremy’s office. She surely suspected something, but she wouldn’t have told William. “Detectives, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but you should be focusing on finding Mason and Kaylee. I want my daughter home safely.”
“We’re doing everything we can, ma’am,” the older detective assured her.
“What does that mean? Do you have any leads? Any suspects?”
The detectives let the last question hang in the air. Olivia immediately knew what they were thinking.
“Any real suspects?” she clarified. “Other than Mason and Kaylee?”
“We’re considering all evidence.”
“Do you have fingerprints? Have you checked the car?”
“The car was wiped clean.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Olivia’s voice dripped sincerity. No fingerprints on the car—that certainly made the case more difficult for them to solve.
Anne smiled, thinking about the look on her mother’s face when Anne told the police about her affair. She was shocked and offended. Anne didn’t know if her mother didn’t realize her
daughter knew, or if she thought she’d keep it a secret. Secrets were so important in their family. Her mother probably took it for granted that Anne wouldn’t talk. She never thought she’d say or do anything controversial. What was she always calling her? Oatmeal? “So bland it’s practically inedible.” Kaylee had snapped at Olivia the last time she insulted Anne like that. She’d be so pleased that Anne outed their mother to the cops. She was always telling Anne to fight back.
Olivia had insisted to the police she couldn’t answer any questions about her relationship with Jeremy Van de Sant in front of Anne. She was just a child, after all. “She’s had enough to deal with for one day.”
Anne was excused from the questioning. She quietly snuck into Kaylee’s bedroom. A giant Navajo-print
K
hung over the bed. The rest of the room was not much different from Anne’s. Olivia had hired a designer a few years ago to redo the house and had insisted the two bedrooms have a unified look. Kaylee and Anne were annoyed, but in the end, they had similar tastes so it wasn’t that big of a deal. They did insist on personalizing them despite Olivia’s protests. She wanted something magazine-spread ready. The rooms were at first, until Kaylee added some of her favorite photos in little frames on the wall and scattered colorful pillows
about. Anne took down some of the art the designer had chosen in her room. The woman had gone for a French theme and had framed photographs of Parisian landmarks hung in perfect symmetry on the walls. It felt kind of, well, oatmealy. Kaylee would laugh at that.
Anne knew her sister wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. It just wasn’t like her. She checked under Kaylee’s bed. She had a box where she kept her favorite mementos. Anne smiled as she sorted through them—ticket stubs from a boy-band concert they’d gone to years ago, a dog-eared copy of
To Kill a Mockingbird
, several spent glow sticks. Kaylee went through a glow-stick phase a while back, largely for Anne’s entertainment. She would make them into various shapes like some people make balloon animals.
But no note. No message.
Think,
she told herself. If Kaylee were going to leave something for you, where would she leave it?
The answer hit her. She got up and went to Kaylee’s bathroom and opened one of the drawers and pulled out a box of tampons. When she and Kaylee wanted to keep things from their dad, they’d always put them inside. It was the one place he would never look.
She took the box and dumped it on the bed. Sticking out of the pile of tampons was a note. Score!
A
NNA
B
ANANA
.
I
F YOU
’
RE READING THIS, IT
MEANS
I’
M GONE
. I’
M SURE YOU
KNOW WHY
I
HAD TO LEAVE
. I’
M
SORRY
. I’
LL BE BACK FOR YOU
. B
E READY
.
L
OVE
, K.
Mason waited as William Abernathy got the extra money from the safe. He heard his own heart pumping in his ears. He was furious that the prick was trying to break up him and Kaylee, but pleased at how he’d managed to turn the situation to his own advantage. He thought back to the night he found out Kaylee’s father was cheating on his wife. It was after he won the community award. The crowd had cleared and Mason was loading folding chairs into a truck out back. He heard something get knocked over and noticed a couple practically humping each other behind the building. That in itself wasn’t anything noteworthy, but then he saw the statue on the ground. A crystal spiky thing. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but he knew the award belonged to Kaylee’s father.
Mason moved closer. Kaylee had gone home with her mother, so whoever the respected Danbury citizen was urgently grinding into wasn’t his wife. Of course Mason wanted to see who it was. He assumed it would be one of the area’s huge pool of bored wives and mothers, affluent women who needed to create drama to escape the hollow repetitiveness of days spent shopping and
lunching. Mason hoped it was Jared Slater’s mom. That would upend that asshat’s world.
It felt almost wrong to watch two people going at it so passionately, but it was worth the wait. When Abernathy came up for air, Mason immediately recognized her. She was definitely someone known to the Danbury community, but she was not an aging socialite. Kaylee’s dad was screwing around with a student at Danbury. Mason thought about Kaylee and how she would react if she knew and immediately decided not to tell her.
Mason looked up as Abernathy returned to the living room with a bigger pile of money. He slid it across the table at Mason. The man was so cocky. He viewed people like objects he could buy and sell. He didn’t follow rules himself, but he expected others to obey the ones he set.
“I expect you’ll break up with her tonight. Tomorrow at the latest.”
Mason shook his head as he took the money and fanned it. He’d never seen that much cash. “Here’s the thing. I’m not breaking up with Kaylee.”
“If you don’t break up with Kaylee, I will report that you stole that money. I didn’t have to offer you anything.”
“Add
generous
to all those great things people think about you.”
“You don’t seem to understand the power I have in this town.” Abernathy was fighting to maintain his composure.
“You have balls like an elephant, I’ll give you that,” Mason told him. “To lecture me about how I’m not good enough for your little girl when you’re fucking one of her friends. Her underage friend.”
Abernathy stayed perfectly still as Mason continued. “I know about you and Lily.” He thought back to the night of the award. When Abernathy and his macking partner came up for air, Mason could see he’d had Lily Mars pinned against the wall. Lily had pulled him back to her, wanting more.
Mason grinned across the table at Abernathy. He enjoyed seeing this snob try to figure out how to regain the upper hand knowing full well that he couldn’t. It wasn’t often Mason could use his words and still feel like he was winning a fight. “I don’t know much about the law, but I’m guessing it’s one of those crimes you go to jail for. You think you’d like jail? You think your connections would help you inside? Maybe get you cigarettes or some extra time in the yard?”
“You have no proof of anything.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m betting proof exists somewhere. Phone records. Text messages. Love notes.” Abernathy paled. He’d covered his tracks, but apparently not that well. How did this little shit know? He wondered if Lily had bragged to someone.
Mason didn’t stop. “Just the accusation would do serious damage. What would your wife do? Your kids? You think people want to do business with an accused pedophile?”
“She’s not a child.”
“So you’re admitting it.”
Abernathy couldn’t believe how badly things had turned. He thought he was buying off a problem, and here he was getting extorted. “What do you want?”
Mason rose and pocketed the pile of cash. His wish was very simple.
“I love your daughter. I’m going to be with her. Don’t try and stop me again.”