Page 35 of Remain (one-of-a-kind)

“For starters, I learned that Wren died on a Friday evening, the first night of the music festival. Her estimated time of death was hard to determine because she’d been in the water so long, but for reasons he didn’t go into, they assume it happened sometime between nine and midnight.

” When he saw my expression, he raised a hand.

“I know. It makes me wonder, too, whether there’s some connection between what’s been happening at the house with you and the fact that the symbolic anniversary of her death is coming up in a few days.

” He took a noisy slurp of his coffee before continuing.

“Other than that, he pretty much confirmed Louise’s comment about it being an accidental drowning.

He also said that there was no evidence that anyone except Wren had been in the bathroom when she died and added that there was a gash in the back of her head that matched the blood and DNA on the faucet.

According to the medical examiner, there was water in her lungs, confirming that the cause of death was drowning.

And apparently, the police interviewed a lot of different people. ”

“Including Nash, Dax, and Griffin?”

“He didn’t offer specifics of who exactly they spoke to, but obviously, there wasn’t enough to press the issue or charge any of them.”

I thought about that. “What about other DNA? Or fingerprints or hairs?”

“He said the forensics team did a full investigation, and he emphasized that they know what they’re doing.”

We were both quiet for a while before I ventured, “I’m hearing a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

Oscar finished off his donut and brushed the crumbs from his fingers. “If he’s so certain it was an accident, why would he want to speak with you about the case?”

“Did you ask him?”

“I did,” Oscar said, “which got him a little uptight. He began repeating himself, so I asked him something else I’ve been wondering about, something even you haven’t mentioned to me.”

“What’s that?”

“Wouldn’t she have been facing the faucet when she slipped and fell? People always face the faucet when they’re getting in the tub, since that’s the way they’d lie down in it. So how did she hit the back of her head?”

Oscar was right: I hadn’t considered that. “How did Dugan respond?”

“He said the assumption was that she turned around while she was getting in or out.”

I recalled Wren’s appearance in the bathroom. “Maybe she was reaching for a towel? Because I’ve seen her wearing a towel.”

“I suggested the same thing, and after hemming and hawing, he admitted that the only towels in the bathroom were folded and on the shelves. I’m guessing both those things bothered Dugan, too, but without any other leads, what else could he do?

I have the sense that he’s smart and plenty good at his job.

Before he came to Heatherington, he was a detective in Boston.

He finished his twenty and moved to Heatherington as chief. ”

“If he still had concerns, why close the case?”

“I asked him that, too.”

“And?”

Oscar looked at me. “According to the original medical examiner’s report, Wren’s death was labeled suspicious, not accidental, meaning whoever examined her had the same questions I did.

The same ones Dugan still has. Which also means, technically, even if the investigation is stalled for lack of evidence, I’m guessing it’s still open. ”

· · ·

After Oscar had drained the last of his coffee, we set off for Bird’s Toys and Games. The sidewalks were even more crowded than the day before. Between my lack of sleep and the masks, not to mention Wren, my time in Heatherington was feeling increasingly surreal.

“When do you think Dugan will want to talk to me?”

“He didn’t say, but the police department will have their hands full with the festival, so I’m guessing next week at the earliest.”

“What should I say to him when he calls?”

“Tell him the truth.”

I stared at Oscar as if he’d grown a second head.

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “You already told Reece and Louise you saw and spoke with Wren, and he might ask them about your ‘mystery woman,’ too. A lie would get you in trouble.”

“But you lied to him.”

“Barely,” he answered. “But do me a favor when you do talk to him…Tell him that you were too embarrassed to tell me the truth about the ghost because you didn’t want me—‘the client’—to think you were crazy.”

“He’s going to think I’m crazy if I say that.”

“Which means he’s not going to waste a lot of time on you, so your life will be minimally inconvenienced.”

“But I want him to keep digging.”

“Then let’s talk to our suspects and see if we can give him a real reason to take another look at what happened. Did you find that file Wren mentioned?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, I guess we’ll be flying by the seat of our pants,” he said. “Do you know what you’re going to say to Nash?”

“I’m going to ask him about Wren, and then slowly ratchet up the pressure.” We stopped in front of the store. “Use your instincts, and feel free to join in whenever.”

“I can do that,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “This will be fun.”

“I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use.”

“Especially if he’s the bad guy.”

I exhaled. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Especially if he’s the bad guy.”

· · ·

Inside, the store was bustling. A few teens were browsing the videogames at the front and several kids were looking at card games in the back, so Oscar and I made the silent decision to wait until the store was quieter before approaching Nash.

He recognized us, however, and though he was assisting the teens, his eyes immediately lit up; no doubt he was excited about the chance to recommend another expensive, hard-to-sell item. “Welcome back,” he called out in a jovial voice. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help you find!”

We pretended to browse until, after about fifteen minutes, the kids and teens approached the register with their purchases. A few moments later, the front door swung closed. Nash came out from behind the counter and hurried to greet us. He was already smiling.

“Back again, huh? I was thinking about the special Boggle set you bought,” he said, “and I realized I forgot to show you an amazing luxury edition of Scrabble. You’re not going to believe the quality. I think they only made about a hundred of them—”

“I’m not looking to buy a game today,” I interrupted. “I came by to speak with you about your partner.”

“Jonah?”

Oscar and I glanced at each other.

“You have a partner named Jonah?”

“Yeah, he bought in about eighteen months ago,” Nash said, his smile wilting slightly. “He doesn’t spend a lot of time here, though. He also owns the drugstore if you’re looking for him.”

I wondered whether Jonah knew about Nash’s previous financial improprieties and somehow doubted it.

“Actually,” I said, “I was hoping to speak with you about your former partner, Wren.”

“Tate here is a good friend of hers,” Oscar added. “Or was.”

I could feel Nash’s eyes swing from me to Oscar and back again. “How did you know her again? You’re not from here, right?”

“We spent a lot of time together,” I said, avoiding his question. “She even taught me how to make beef bourguignon.”

“Oh,” he said, not bothering to hide his confusion. “I didn’t get your names.” When we introduced ourselves, he frowned. “I don’t remember Wren ever mentioning you to me.”

“Hmm,” I said, faking surprise. “She talked quite a bit about you. But anyway, do you have a few minutes?”

“Of course,” he said politely. “Until a customer comes in, I’m all yours. What’s up?”

I cleared my throat. “We were wondering whether you knew if Wren was having problems with anyone in the weeks before she died.”

“What kind of problems?” Nash’s expression clouded.

“Anything that comes to mind.”

He stared blankly around the store, as if casting back in his memory. “Just with her ex, Griffin,” he said after a moment, bringing his hands together. “But can I ask why it matters?”

“I’m not sure Wren’s death was an accident. The medical examiner considered it suspicious.”

Nash blanched. “You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately not,” I said. “I was also curious if the police ever spoke with you about what happened.”

“They did,” he said. “An officer came by the store, and we talked for a bit, but I didn’t have much to say, since I only saw her once that week. Are they looking into her death again?”

“Between you and me,” Oscar interjected, “I think there’s a chance the case is about to become a lot more active.”

“Oh…wow,” he said. I could practically see his mind beginning to turn over, concern etched on his features. “I can’t believe this.”

“I feel like I owe it to her to find out what happened,” I continued. “Can you think of anyone else she might have been having a problem with?”

He gave a nervous shake of his head. “People liked her, and the whole town was in shock when we found out what happened. But as for having problems with anyone, she didn’t talk to me about those kinds of things,” he said.

“Our paths didn’t really cross much in the store in the last year or so.

Generally, either she was here, or I was here, and when we were both here, we’d talk about the business.

I’m guessing her friend Dax might know more about it, though.

She mentioned to me once that they’d been talking.

He’s a counselor over at the Mercy Center. ”

“Do you remember where you were the night she died?” I asked, switching tacks.

“I was at the festival like everyone else in town,” he said.

“Can anyone verify your presence there between nine and midnight?”

His eyes swiveled from me to Oscar and back again. “Wait,” he said, his voice beginning to rise. “Do you think I had something to do with what happened to her?”

“We’re just asking you a few questions.”

“I don’t think I should be speaking with you about this.” A steady flush was climbing up his neck.

“Because you don’t have an alibi?”

“Alibi?” he gasped, his eyes widening. “Why would I need an alibi?”

I glanced at Oscar, noting his imperceptible nod.

“We know about the business line of credit you accessed, the fake invoices, and the fact that Wren knew you’d been stealing from her.”

Nash staggered backward. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” he spit out. “And I don’t know where you’re getting your information…”

“Wren kept a file, and the bank has records,” Oscar said, “so let’s not bother playing games.”

“We also know,” I jumped in, “that Wren was planning to file a civil lawsuit to get the money back and that the last thing you wanted was for that information to become public. Small towns being what they are, the revelation would have ruined you. I’m sure the police are going to be very interested in this information. ”

“Are you threatening me?”

“We just want to know whether anyone can verify you were at the festival between nine and midnight.”

With his fists clenched at his sides, Nash’s entire body seemed to tremble. “This is ridiculous!” he shouted. “I would never have harmed Wren, and I’m not going to answer any more of your questions! I’m done talking to you!”

“Fine,” I said calmly. “But you might want to think hard about that alibi of yours before we come back.”

“And I’m guessing Jonah will want to scrutinize the books to see if you’ve been stealing from him, too,” Oscar added.

“Not to mention that your wife is certainly going to want to know what you did with all that money.”

Nash was vibrating with rage. “GET OUT!” he screamed. “I WANT YOU OUT OF HERE!”

“We’ll be back,” I repeated before Oscar and I left the store. As we started toward our cars, Oscar finally glanced over at me.

“I hope you never want to rattle my cage,” he remarked with a grin.

“You think it worked?”

“I’m sure he’s in free fall right now,” Oscar replied. “Who’s next?”

I pondered the situation as I unlocked my car, realizing that I needed more time to figure out our line of attack with Griffin, because I had a feeling he’d try to control the confrontation more than Nash had.

“Probably Dax,” I said, “but I don’t know how to make contact with him, other than calling on him at the Mercy Center. ”

“I have an idea,” Oscar said. “Let me make some calls this afternoon, and I’ll tell you. On your end, keep looking for anything that might be useful. And like you said, maybe Wren will give us something we can use.”

“I’m not sure she’s going to be there.”

He looked over at me before climbing into his own car. “One day, you’re really going to have to tell me what you did wrong, because I’m dying to know.”

I stuffed my hands into my pockets, remaining stubbornly mute.