Page 62

Julia

Julia couldn’t believe it. She hoped she misheard, but no, Erika repeated it for Izzy’s benefit.

“I’m the one who killed your aunt… and I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Tears streamed down Erika’s face, long salty lines that carved a winding path down her cheeks, which were flushed as red as her hair.

David didn’t react, which was revealing.

He must have known; otherwise, what leverage would he have had to get Erika to pony up the money for his business investment?

At last Erika’s ho-hum reaction to the glass house made perfect sense.

It wasn’t her newfound mindfulness that keep her cool, calm, and collected.

She was acting the whole time. But there was still so much Julia didn’t understand. And how did Fiona factor into all this?

“Not a day goes by that I don’t regret it, that I don’t think of her and what I did. But I swear to you, Izzy—it was an accident. We only meant to scare her.”

“We? Who is we ?”

Erika shifted her attention to Julia, who had asked the obvious. But before she could answer, the front door burst open yet again, and a man Julia had seen twice today, only in pictures, strutted into the house, taking command of the room.

James Tracey bore a vague resemblance to the person Julia knew in passing from his infrequent sojourns at the lake, but he looked very much like he did in the snapshot on Bella’s Instagram feed, only a little older and thicker around the middle.

What remained of his hair had gone mostly silver, his prominent mustache matching in color.

He wore the same tortoiseshell glasses Julia had observed in his photo, and a crisply pressed collared shirt, but no sport coat, this occasion being less celebratory than the one shared on social.

Even without the sartorial enhancement, he looked more like a retired insurance adjuster than a gangster with a murderous past. But Julia could see the edge underneath.

Here was a man who could switch on the cruelty the way one would turn on a TV.

A twist of his mouth, a slight narrowing of his eyes was all it took to transform him from the avuncular man of Erika’s youth into a killer.

Izzy barely took notice of him. She’d slumped to the floor, Erika’s words no doubt tumbling through her head, as they did in Julia’s.

I shot and killed your aunt Susie …

Erika, not David.

David, too, was in shock, but most certainly because Jimmy T had sauntered in with an air of complete authority.

He lowered the rifle immediately. Judging by the fear in his eyes, he didn’t dare point a gun at his boss.

The two sizable men who had followed Jimmy T into the home might have provided some added incentive.

Both had buzz cuts and close-set eyes, hard looks that could have been perfected in prison.

They wore large suits and were built like football players.

It was hard to tell where their necks ended and their shoulders began.

“David, I’m not going to mince words,” Jimmy said.

He didn’t bother to acknowledge Erika, the woman who’d grown up calling him Uncle James, in any meaningful way.

Jimmy’s focus was reserved exclusively for his protégé, his demeanor calm and confident despite walking into a room with people held at gunpoint.

Perhaps he’d become inured to anything that whiffed of violence.

“I’m here for my daughter,” he said. He had a powerful baritone voice that demanded respect. When this man spoke, you listened.

“Jimmy, what are you doing here?” Julia thought she heard David stutter.

“I just told you, dumbass. I came here for my daughter. Now where is she?”

The goons accompanying Jimmy T moved on David like two walls closing in.

Suddenly David remembered he had a gun. He backed up a step so he had proper distance to take aim. He picked Tweedledee over Tweedledum, but both men put their hands up.

“You know what you’re doing is dangerous,” said Jimmy. “Listen to me, you’re going to put that gun away and tell me where my daughter is. You can shoot one of these guys, but the other is going to snap your neck.” Jimmy’s voice was like ice. “Where…”

Blood lust sparked in his eyes. “Is…”

He balled his hands into fists as he took a threatening step forward. “Fiona?”

David lowered his weapon a second time, but then it was as if he suddenly snapped awake. He turned, aiming the gun not at the goons or Jimmy, but at Erika.

“She’s Cormac’s daughter, calls you her uncle. You leave now, or I shoot.”

Jimmy was unfazed. “David, you hurt her, I’m talking so much as a scratch, and I’ll rip your throat out,” he warned.

“I don’t know where Fiona is, so I’m dead anyway. Get out of here, Jim. Give me time. I’m trying to find her.”

Before Jimmy had a chance to answer, the sliding glass doors in the living room shattered. Julia’s eardrums nearly burst from the cacophony of breaking glass. Shards sprayed in all directions, but thankfully, nobody stood near enough to get cut.

Two men, dressed in navy blue windbreakers with ‘FBI’ stenciled on them, stormed in through the broken doors with guns drawn. Julia wrapped her arms around Taylor, shielding her from the onslaught.

“Down, down, down!” The agent pointed his handgun at David’s head.

David got the message. He relinquished his weapon without protest, dropping to the floor with his hands clasped behind his head. What choice did he have?

Jimmy threw his hands up with a look of annoyance like some jackass just spoiled a surprise party.

“Agent Cody and Agent Fulton. To what the fuck do I owe the pleasure?”

Both agents were like thinned-down versions of Jimmy’s muscle guys, with wiry builds, close-cropped hair, and the steely stare of ex-military men.

“Did you bring handcuffs for me?” Jimmy asked the agents, not showing a drop of concern. Julia guessed guys like him didn’t get ruffled even if they were riding in the back of a police car.

“Nah, Jim. You’re under surveillance, not arrest. Lucky for these folks, we followed you right to a crime scene. Unlucky for us, our cover is blown, so you can relax—for now.”

“Not until I find my daughter,” Jimmy said.

A moment later, Detective Baker, wearing a bulletproof vest over her button-down shirt, strode into the living room through the busted door, her gun drawn. Other police soon joined her, but the angry look she cast behind her wasn’t directed at anyone in uniform.

“I told you to wait outside,” she barked.

“I’m sorry, but this is my family.”

The voice was as familiar to Julia as the man who entered. Christian rushed to her side. He pulled Julia and Taylor into a hug. The three of them huddled together in a collective embrace.

Julia let go of all sense of betrayal for the moment as she melted against Christian, allowing him to hold and comfort her. Taylor buried her face into her father’s shoulder.

One of the agents—Fulton or Cody—cocked his head in confusion. “Hey, are you local cops clairvoyant or something? We didn’t even have time to call it in. This guy was going to shoot.” The agent pointed to David, who was lying on the floor, handcuffed, and not taking it well.

“Call it lucky timing,” said Baker. She pointed to Christian. “The husband came to the house, saw what was going on inside, and phoned it in. Guess he didn’t see your car parked nearby.”

“Well, we’re kind of undercover,” said the agent. “At least we were .”

Julia touched Christian’s cheek as though he might not be real.

The police and FBI were busy sorting out David and Jimmy, so the two of them had a chance to talk in low voices.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Julia said to him.

“That’s what happens when you don’t reply to my text messages,” he said, finding a half smile. Then, more quietly, he whispered in her ear, “We have to talk. Rick’s family used to own the land where the bones were found. I was doing research because the guy who wants to buy our business—”

“Wait, you found a buyer?” Despite the full-throttle excitement, Julia found room for an extra burst of energy.

“Yeah, but that’s not important right now.

Our potential buyer is looking for property in Vermont, so I did some research for him.

That’s how I found out. It bothers me that Rick never told us.

Worse, he lied about it when I asked him.

Obviously he’s hiding something.” His voice was still low as he glanced toward their friends to make sure they couldn’t hear.

“Oh, they’re hiding something, all right,” said Julia with a nod. “Erika killed Susie Welch.”

“ What? Jesus,” Christian murmured, the blood draining from his face. “For real?”

Before Julia had a chance to elaborate or press Erika to do the same, everyone was ushered out the door by the police and FBI, Jimmy T and his thugs included.

Outside, Christian pointed to the new arrivals. “Who are those guys?”

“Long story,” said Julia. “But that’s Erika’s Uncle James… turns out he’s Fiona’s father.”

“Wait, so does that mean Erika…?”

She had to give Christian credit. He was a quick learner. “That’s right… she knew Fiona before any of us, David included.”

“As soon as I found out about the land, alarm bells went off in my head,” Christian said.

“I remembered how bothered you were by their lack of a reaction to the glass house. And you’re right.

It did feel… off. I couldn’t stop worrying that you and Taylor could be in a really bad situation, so I decided I had to check on you.

I didn’t tell you I was coming because I didn’t want you to try and talk me out of it. ”

“I’m glad you listened to your intuition,” said Julia.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly a hero. The FBI got here first.”

“Ever hear the expression, it’s the thought that counts?” Julia hugged her husband again, holding on extra tight. “We have a lot to talk about. Whatever happens between us, please know I’m really happy to see you.”

And that was true. Having his support meant everything right now, especially with her two oldest friends caught up in something nefarious. David’s blackmail scheme meant he knew about the murder. He must have. But why didn’t he ever come forward?

He might now if he wants to try for a plea deal, Julia thought. Potentially, he could give up Erika and Rick to lessen his punishment. But for the moment, the cops didn’t know about her confession. At present, David was the only one guilty of a crime—threatening people with a gun.

But Julia knew what Baker did not. Erika and Rick had a story to tell, and they weren’t even being questioned.

That was about to change.