The secrets they keep, p.7
The Secrets They Keep, page 7
What about me?
What about the time I spent alone in this house, in my last year of high school? Applying to colleges alone? Working through it all without the support or even much contact from my Knox family.
What about the girl who’d been left and abandoned for the third time in her life, by the first parents who swore they’d never let her down?
“If you want closure on this,” Madigan said with a clenched jaw, “I need to know why. I haven’t lost a child, but I’ve been a child lost. I’ve been abandoned by every parental figure I’ve ever known. If you still want us to be a family—if you think there’s a chance we could still be—I need to know why you left me. I need to understand what this is that I’ve been trying to hold on to.”
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” her mom sobbed.
It’s bad.
It’s my fault, and she wants to protect me.
But I need the truth.
I’m here now.
“Tell me.”
Her mom shook her head and buried her face in the tissues.
“Mads,” her dad warned in a deeper voice.
He’ll protect her at any cost, but what about me? I’m nothing.
Madigan strode to the front door, pulling her boots on as the doorbell rang. Through the glass, Mr. and Mrs. Holden stood beside Doreen and Kurt.
Madigan opened the door as her dad caught up to her, and Jack held the screen door behind them, waiting for space to enter.
“I’m off,” Madigan said.
“Alright,” her dad answered, grabbing the door, “we’ll talk soon.”
Madigan nodded to the Holdens.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Mrs. Holden said. “We’d love to see you soon.”
“For sure,” Madigan said as she slipped by them.
Jack held the door open for her, and she nodded to him before starting down the path. Tapping footsteps followed behind her.
“Hey,” Jack said. “You okay?”
Madigan turned around and walked backwards. “Yeah, fine.”
“Hey,” he said, and she stopped as he caught up to her. “I thought you’d be here for lunch, or I wouldn’t have agreed to come.”
She opened her eyes wide. “Really? Why?”
“Ugh,” he shook his head. “All they’re talking about is Cory’s murder. I mean, I get it. I was there. It was gruesome to say the least, but they’re stuck on it like it was their kid. They’re making it worse for Doreen.”
Madigan folded her arms over her chest.
“I was hoping we’d have our own side conversation about something else—anything else. That maybe we could get people talking about something positive. Doreen’s been down, you know? With everything that happened, I thought our families getting together again might make things better. Like it used to.”
Madigan hooked her thumb through the belt loop of her jeans on her hip. “That was a long time ago.”
“I know.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. “But after Drew, I think those times we got together were good for your parents. Maybe gave them some comfort? It did for me.”
Me too. Until I tried to kiss you and ruined everything. As usual.
She started for her bike again. “I’ve got to go.”
“You’re working tonight?” he asked. “Maybe I’ll stop in. You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
Drew used to be a person she could talk to. Not as close as her brother, but someone she’d confide in about things that bothered her.
We’ve grown too far apart to be so open.
She rested some of her weight on the seat.
But I could use somebody to talk to, and I still trust him.
“We had a pretty deep discussion before you guys came. They’re considering selling their properties and downsizing.”
“Really? That’s intense,” he said. “The end of an era. The Holdens and Knoxes right across the street.”
“I think it ended a while ago,” she mumbled.
Jack stepped away from the bike while she started it up. “So maybe I’ll see you?” he shouted.
She nodded and slowly backed out of the driveway as he walked up toward the house. As she pulled away, he finally stepped inside.
Why does he have to be so nice?
As she turned off their street, she looked back at the two houses.
The end of an era.
Her heart ached over the memories they’d created on that street over her years at the Knoxes. The only part of her youth that seemed secure. The only physical location that had felt like a home and brought her comfort.
Do I ask them to stay and try our best to make more memories? Maybe I won’t want to after we talk, and I hear the truth about why she wanted to get away from me.
I could hear her out when she’s ready. What more is there to lose?
Or is it time to let it all go, once and for all?
Chapter Nine
Cory Boyd’s parents followed Officer Rhonda down the hallway.
“Mr. and Mrs. Boyd, we’re very sorry for your loss,” Mac said. “I’m Officer MacIntyre, and this is Detective Inspector Sheppard. We’re investigating your son’s death.”
“Please come in,” Grace said, opening the door to their meeting room.
They entered, and Mr. Boyd pulled out a chair for his wife before sitting next to her across from Grace and Mac.
“When can we see him?” Mr. Boyd’s voice shook.
“Sir.” Mac held on to the table, pulling his rolling chair closer. “You’ll be able to see him tomorrow afternoon, after the medical examiner has finished her report.”
Mrs. Boyd wove her arm under her husband’s.
“What happened to our son?” Mr. Boyd asked.
His wife’s red eyes glanced up at them after he asked the question—just for a second—before bowing her head again.
She’s scared. Maybe she isn’t ready to hear this.
Mac turned to Grace.
Maybe he has learned that some moments need more sensitivity than he’s used to.
“Cory’s body was found unresponsive in his car in the parking lot of the reception hall as the guests prepared to send off the bride and groom,” Grace said, careful to avoid specific details. “Our Medical Examiner will be able to give us the report tomorrow morning, but until which time we can be certain, we cannot speak to any more specifics regarding cause of death.”
“What was he doing out there in the car?” Mr. Boyd asked. “He’s the Best Man. Shouldn’t he have been with everyone?”
“We’re following up on the events leading up to his death,” Mac said. “Until we get concrete answers, we can’t report any more facts to you, but we do have some questions.”
Mrs. Boyd shot her husband a look and pulled her arm away, folding her hands into her lap. “Are you the ones who spoke with Marie last night?” he asked.
What’s this about?
“Yes, sir.” Mac cocked his head to the side.
“She told us the officers were cold toward her last night,” he said. “That she was in shock, and she claims…”
“She didn’t like the way she was treated,” Mrs. Boyd said without looking up.
“Well, I can assure you we handled ourselves professionally,” Mac said. “In tragic circumstances such as these, we understand how difficult it can be for loved ones of the deceased, but we must follow procedure. We need to question the appropriate parties as we investigate.”
“She said you intimidated her when you made her speak to you alone,” Mrs. Boyd said, looking at Mac before turning to Grace, “and that you accused her of having an affair.”
“Ma’am,” Mac said, “it’s procedure to speak to those closest to the victim, and we get a more accurate understanding of their relationship when they can be open with us without fear of judgement.”
“Well,” Mrs. Boyd huffed and turned to Grace again. “She felt judged by you. Do you have evidence of this alleged affair?”
“I can assure you I did not accuse Mrs. Boyd of anything. She may have misinterpreted the situation, but as Officer MacIntyre has just stated, it is our job to question her about matters that could be related to the investigation.”
Mrs. Boyd turned to her husband once again and cleared her throat.
“We’d appreciate some respect given the current situation,” Mr. Boyd said. “That’s all.”
Mrs. wants to make a bigger deal of this than Mr. I won’t let the situation escalate any further.
“Of course,” Grace said. “If I may continue, when was the last time you both spoke to Cory?”
Mr. Boyd pressed his lips together, and Mrs. Boyd seemed to not have heard the question. Grace looked at Mac, but he kept his focus on Mrs. Boyd.
I wonder if he’s thinking what I am. That she is a person who makes a bigger deal of things than they need to be.
“I spoke to him a couple of weeks ago,” Mr. Boyd said, “but he spoke to his mother more often.”
“A few days ago,” Mrs. Boyd muttered.
“And how did he sound to you both?” Grace asked.
Mr. Boyd shrugged. “Busy, as usual.”
Mrs. Boyd nodded.
“Okay, and did he say or do anything to lead you to believe he may have been in any trouble, or was he upset with anyone?” Grace asked.
Mr. Boyd frowned. “No, not at all. This is why this is…” He cleared his throat and shook his head.
“Take your time,” Grace said.
For a long stretch, Mr. Boyd sat in silence.
“Nothing unusual,” Mrs. Boyd said. “It took a lot to get Cory upset. His friends, they love him. Our family… he’s the center. He’s generous. Fun…”
As she trailed off in a daze, Mr. Boyd held her hand.
She’s on something. Tranquilizers maybe.
“Did it seem like he was having trouble in his marriage?” Mac asked.
Mr. Boyd frowned.
“This is what she meant,” Mrs. Boyd whispered to him. “So accusatory…”
Mr. Boyd pressed his lips together and stared at Mac.
He looks apologetic.
“No, we weren’t aware of any fighting or… or… well, they’ve gone through a rough patch, trying to conceive. I think that’s what upset Marie last night, on top of—”
Mac leaned inward. “I understand. Go on.”
“It was a serious point of contention,” Mr. Boyd said. “But it wasn’t anyone’s fault, you know? It has nothing to do with this, other than… they may not have been as kind to each other.”
“Did someone tell you this?” Mac asked.
“When we got in, and Marie picked us up from the airport, I just got the feeling that things didn’t end well for them. That she’s upset over more than his death and your questions.”
“Accusations,” Mrs. Boyd said.
“Hun, they’re just trying to do their jobs.”
She bowed her head and folded her arms over her chest.
“My wife’s in shock,” he said.
“If you can think of anything relevant that might help us,” Mac said. “You just give a call. We’ll let you know more after the M.E. report and notify you when the body will be released as well.”
Mr. Boyd nodded. “Cory was a good man. A heart of gold. Usually took things less seriously than I’d have liked, but he was changing, with getting married and opening a business. Becoming the man I knew he could be. He didn’t have enemies.”
Mac maintained direct eye contact with Mr. Boyd. “Alright, thank you Mr. and Mrs. Boyd. While you’re in town, where will you be staying?”
“At our son’s home,” Mrs. Boyd said, her speech beginning to slur.
“We’ll be there until the funeral. We might check into a hotel at some point, too,” Mr. Boyd said. “We should give Marie some space, alright, hun?”
He stood and took his wife’s hand, helping her up. She regained her balance and tucked her arm in between his and his body.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
“I know. Let’s get you back,” he said, helping her out of the room. “Marie dropped us off here, but we rented a car. We’ll be going together, the three of us, to the funeral home the day after tomorrow to make arrangements.”
Mac held the door open for them.
“You find who did this to my son,” Mr. Boyd whispered as he passed Mac.
He thinks Mac is in charge. Maybe it’s a man thing.
Grace followed them and watched as they made their way down the hall back to the front.
“She’s got to be heavily medicated,” Grace said. “I didn’t smell alcohol on her breath, so I think she took something to calm herself. I don’t think we’ll get any real answers from her until we can speak to her with a clear mind. She spoke to Cory most often. He may have confided something in her or told her about someone new in his life.”
“I like him,” Mac said. “Whatever’s going on with Marie’s claims, he sees past it. He knows we’re doing what we have to.”
“Yeah, what was that about?” Grace asked. “You think Marie exaggerated? I certainly never accused her of anything.”
He looked at her and lifted his brows. “Her mother-in-law seems like the kind of woman who might take a story and get carried away. If she thought someone was speaking ill of her son, especially. We should talk to them again in the next day or so.”
“How about we go see the crime scene in daylight?”
“You read my mind,” he said. “Meet you there after I speak to Tarek about the cell records. I want to see when we can expect them.”
She grabbed her coat. “See you there.”
On the drive over, Grace picked up a copy of the Tall Pines Gazette along with a tea and bagel from The Big Spoon. The story had made the front page.
Deadly End to Wedding Night as Best Man’s Body Found Outside Tall Pines Hall: an article by Thane Wilson.
A sensational headline that preceded an article full of second-hand accounts, exaggerations about having their dress shoes forcibly collected into evidence, and hardly any facts to be found.
Madigan probably got them the best front page breaking news article they’ve ever had last fall.
Her insights, innovation, and above all, curiosity, had always led her toward trouble, among other discoveries, such as truths. Dangerous truths that Grace had always wished Madigan stayed away from, even when it benefited Grace’s career.
Something was off about her last night. She had been drinking, but there was an air of instability about her.
Grace pulled into the lot across and down the street from the hall, and after parking, imagined Madigan talking to her on her cell right around the corner from the side door.
She overheard more than anyone but Marie. I need to talk to her tonight after her shift.
Grace jogged across the street and waved to Malone, sitting in his car in the main turn about. He waved back with a smile before she ducked under the police tape.
They’re starting to accept me here. Maybe the win last night gave me some much-needed credibility.
Salt crunched under her boots with each step she took across the wet asphalt.
There was a time Malone ignored me—likely after hearing the rumors about me when I’d arrived last fall. Maybe I’m making a new name for myself, finally.
The empty lot felt smaller than the night before, and as she strode toward the space the car had been parked in, something caught her eye, a figure behind the trees near the back of the building. He stepped out from behind the bush.
“Mac?” she called.
He stepped into the sunlight, striding toward her.
He always walks with purpose. He always seems so in control.
She checked her watch, timing him.
Less than forty-five seconds until he reached the police tape.
“If the killer ran from here to back there, he could do it and take cover in about fifteen to twenty seconds,” she said. “Easy.”
“How did I beat you here?” Mac asked, smiling.
“I stopped for a tea and the paper.”
“Why do you bother reading that garbage?”
“Well, this fall, we actually learned something from my sister’s article.”
“So?” He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight. “Did you find anything?”
She shook her head. “Just a few of the guests who spoke to the news, wanting their fifteen minutes, talking about how horrifying it all was.”
“Hope the Boyds don’t read that, then.” He turned around, back toward the trees. “Anyhow, nothing back there in the daylight. No security cameras pointing toward here from across the street where you parked by the plaza with the café that the limo driver wasted some time at.”
“Snow has melted,” she muttered, walking toward the parking space. “Blood there from beside the car when they opened it. Nothing else…”
“There’s not a clear view of this spot from the front turn about,” Mac said. “Not from the Hall entrance or the stairs either, but if the limo driver had actually been in the limo there, waiting instead of grabbing coffee across the way…”
“Across the street’s too far to see clearly at night,” Grace said. “No one’s really walking the street at that time, but if anyone was, they might report it today after reading the Gazette.”
“Todd said he was out front by the limo, decorating for roughly fifteen minutes,” he said. “He didn’t have a clear view of the car from there, but if he’d just come closer to the path over here toward the lot, he’d have seen Cory’s car was still there.”
“But they gave him money for a cab,” she said. “So he had no reason to think Cory was still here, or in the car for that matter. We can’t say definitely that Todd would have known.”
“It’s just about timing,” Mac said. “Todd was out here before, during, or after Cory was killed, or a combination.”
“So you think he saw or heard something? If it wasn’t him who did it, that is.”
“The two older gentlemen smoking cigars,” Mac said. “They might have seen or heard something, so I want to speak to them. I’ll contact the Holdens when I get back to see whose family members they might be. Track them down and question them.”
Grace nodded. “I called the Maid of Honor, Katie, this morning. She wasn’t in the washroom with Marie for long before they came out. So like Todd, not a solid alibi. I want to go over the guest list again. See who else might be connected to Cory. I also want to pay a visit to his business partner.”
