Truth-Stained Lies (6 page)

J
uliet saw Jackson’s excitement when she picked him up from day care. He loved coming to her house because she had a swimming pool and kept popsicles in her freezer. Juliet tried hard to evade questions about when Mommy would come to pick him up, and chattered instead about the dog Jackson loved who couldn’t wait to play with him.

Holly sat in Juliet’s passenger seat, blotting tears from her eyes. Though Juliet was used to her depressed sister falling apart at the drop of a hat, she didn’t have much patience for it today. She turned the rear speakers up so Jackson could sing along with Cookie Monster, then poked her sister.

“Stop that right now,” she said in a low voice. “You’re going to get him upset.”

Holly didn’t answer, just compressed her lips and tried to hold back her tears. “Sorry.”

“I know it’s hard, but pull yourself together. For him, if not for me.”

She knew what Holly was thinking. Her sister, who was especially sensitive, was imagining some violent clown breaking into Annalee’s house, walking her to the bathtub, and shooting her through the heart.

She was taking inventory of all the horrible things that had happened to their brother in the last year. She was thinking how unfair life was. How unfair God was.

But those thoughts wouldn’t help them get through the night.

“If you need to go home when we get to my house, I can handle him,” she said.

“No, I want to help. And I want to be there when Jay comes back.”

“Then dry up. I’m not kidding.”

Juliet didn’t mean to be cruel. But they would all have time for tears later. Right now there was work to be done. The children had to be fed, her own boys had homework, and there would be swimming and reading to keep Jackson distracted from asking inevitable questions.

Weariness overwhelmed Juliet, but she banished it too. She needed strength tonight. Too bad Bob was out of town and couldn’t help. Her husband had a lot of his own stress, and she tried not to be needy.

They got back to her house, a mid-century, sprawling home like something out of the
Brady Bunch
, and her boys, Zach and Abe, met her at the door to tell on each other.

“Mom, Zach was on my computer and he changed all the settings,” the nine-year-old said.

“I didn’t touch his stupid computer. It has a virus! I could fix it if he’d let me.”

Juliet got out of the car. “Guys, I have Jackson with me. He’s staying with us tonight.”

Abe’s eyebrows shot up and he ran to the car’s back door, threw it open. Jackson laughed, and squirmed to unhook his seatbelt. “Hey, dude. Mom, can we swim tonight?”

“You bet we can,” Juliet said, waiting for Abe to move. He was already unhooking Jackson’s belt.

“I’m going off the diving board,” Jackson said. “Aunt Juliet, will you catch me?”

As she answered and got him out of the car, Zach, her brooding twelve-year-old, stepped toward them. “Aunt Holly, I saw your cab when I got off the bus. Why are you crying?”

Juliet shot daggers at her sister. “She’s not crying, are you, Holly?”

“No. It’s my allergies. Pollen’s really kicking up today.”

“Pollen?” Zach asked, turning to his mother. “I’m allergic to pollen, and I’m fine.”

Mr. Smarty-Pants knew too much for his own good. “Holly, go see if I have any frozen pizzas for the boys. I’m going to get Jackson settled.”

Jackson had a delighted smile on his face as he came into the house and greeted the excited Yorkie. He picked up the dog and let him lick his face. “Mommy says if I get good grades in kindergarten that I can get a puppy. I told her I want one like Brody.”

Juliet’s heart burst. Tears closed up her throat, burned her eyes. She quickly shoved them back. “Bet you’re hungry, Jackson. Want a snack?” she asked, as if everything in the world was just as it was when her nephew had last seen her.

Until his father got home to tell him how drastically his life had been altered today, that was exactly how it was going to be.

As Juliet went to the guest bedroom with Jackson and Abe, Holly found two frozen pizzas and shoved them into the oven, then microwaved a few hot dogs so Jackson would have something to satisfy his appetite until the pizzas were ready.

Zach, who wasn’t buying the whole allergy thing, came into the kitchen. “What’s going on, Aunt Holly? Is it about my dad?”

Holly turned to him. “Your dad? No. What would make you think that?”

“Because he’s out of town. Something’s wrong. You’ve been crying.”

Holly hated herself. Why couldn’t she control her emotions? She was a basket case. “No, Zach,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing to do with him. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Then what? You admit you’ve been crying, right?”

“I cry all the time,” Holly said. “You know I’m Debbie Downer. What else is new?”

He sighed, clearly frustrated, then headed for the TV in the keeping room adjoining the kitchen.

Holly lunged at him. “No, don’t turn the TV on!”

He swung around. “Why not?”

“Because … it’s too much noise.”

“Mom always lets us watch TV. We were watching before she turned it off.”

“Let’s just talk, okay?”

Zach stared at her. “You don’t want to talk, remember? Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just fine. You’ve been bawling your eyes out, and Mom’s eyes look red, and she comes home with Jackson …” His voice trailed off. “Is it something to do with them? The custody thing?”

The microwave chimed, so she turned away and got the hot dogs out. “Zach, just quit asking questions, okay? We’ll tell you everything later, but right now we just want to keep Jackson happy.”

“Where’s Uncle Jay?”

“He’s tied up right now.”

“But he never gets Jackson on Mondays.”

Holly wanted to scream. Instead, she put her hand on her nephew’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Zach, you’re way too smart for your own good. But you need to be mature right now and understand that we can’t talk about this yet. I’d appreciate it very much if you’d just play with the kids, keep the TV off, and help your mother and me keep Jackson distracted.”

Zach wouldn’t give up. “Uncle Jay got custody, right? That’s why Jackson’s here. But that wouldn’t make you cry. Unless they’re happy tears.”

“Yes,” she lied. “That’s it. They’re happy tears.” She grabbed the plate of hot dogs and thrust it at him. “Take these outside for Abe and Jackson. We’ll eat by the pool. It’ll be a little while before the pizzas are ready, though.”

Satisfied that he’d “guessed” the right answer, Zach took the plate. “I won’t tell them.” He walked to the sliding glass patio doors and turned back. “Will he be happy or sad?”

Despair tore at her face again. She turned away from him. Sad, she wanted to say, but her own sorrow prevented her from getting the word out. Jackson was never going to see his mother again.

Instead, she checked the pizza. Why hadn’t she preheated the oven? Now she didn’t know when to start counting the time. She was going to burn the thing, or the middle would still be frozen. She would ruin it.

She should have waited for Juliet. She was no help at all.

“Aunt Holly?”

Why wouldn’t he let this go? She closed the oven, unable to face her nephew again. “Zach, I think we can assume that the news is going to upset him. So keep what you think you know to yourself. Can you do that?”

“Sure. I can keep a secret from little kids.”

“Good,” she said.

When he stepped outside with the hot dogs, she sank onto a bar stool and melted into tears again.

Her poor brother. How did these things keep happening to him? Unlike her, he didn’t deserve any of his bad luck. He was a good father, and he’d been a loving husband, an awesome provider. His choices should reap blessings, not tragedy.

She heard bare feet slapping the tile floor. “Can we swim now?” Jackson asked.

“Yes,” Juliet said, following him into the kitchen. “The pool is probably a great place for Aunt Holly.” Then she mumbled, “Her face will be wet anyway.”

Holly forced a happy smile. The little boy was distracted by his cousins.

“Aunt Holly, you have mascara smudges,” Juliet whispered. “Why don’t you go wash your face?”

Holly nodded and started for the bathroom. Suddenly, Juliet grabbed her arm and turned her back. Holly met her older sister’s eyes, dreading whatever was coming. But Juliet only pulled her into a hug. Holly clung for a second, then drew in a deep breath. Strengthened, she went to wash her face.

“Yay, Aunt Holly made hot dogs!” Juliet cried for Jackson. “Are you hungry?”

Holly appreciated the child’s shout of affirmation. At least she had done one thing right.

T
he bathroom floor was cold. Holly sat on it, her back against the wall, elbows on her knees. Why had Juliet chosen these cold travertine tiles? She made a mental note that Juliet would probably like a rug for Christmas to put here. Then again, there probably weren’t that many people who sat here on the floor.

Holly always seemed to be crying these days. Cathy thought Holly was clinically depressed, and maybe she was right. The latest developments in her life had not brought Holly joy or peace. She found herself dysfunctional and full of dread, and that was even before Jay’s wife was murdered.

Holly pulled her purse onto her lap, dug through for her phone, and as she did, she saw that wand again, rolled up in a plastic bag. Her stomach sank, and she felt a little sick. She pulled it out and unrolled the bag, held it out in front of her. That plus sign told her everything she needed to know.

In less than eight months, she would be giving birth.

Her father would have been horrified, though he certainly had skeletons in his own closet.

Her mother, who died just three years ago, would have been filled with shame. Disgrace was a heavy burden to bear, though Holly’s mom had been familiar enough with it. Juliet would probably cry and declare that all her warnings to Holly over the last few years had come to pass.

Cathy would be quietly disapproving about the whole thing, privately judging her, yet trying not to look like she was.

They would want to know who the father was. Could she tell them that it happened on a drunken binge, after a night of clubbing with her friends? She had awakened the next day, trying to remember the name of the man she had gone home with. Hating herself.

It looked so glamorous on TV when the
Jersey Shore
gang slept around. It looked like freedom, not bondage. But here she was, trapped.

And now her family would be grieving over Annalee’s death. Cathy would probably help defend Jay. How dare Holly take any of the family energy from her brother by telling them of her predicament?

Holly forced herself to her feet and went to the sink, stood in front of the mirror. She suddenly hated the hot pink streaks in her hair. They screamed “party girl.” What had she been thinking? A child would be embarrassed to have a Katy Perry wannabe for a mom. Her child … what a joke.

Maybe she could just not tell her family, make it go away …

They would never know that she had disgraced them again. Disgraced herself.

She thought back on all those sermons her father had
preached when they were young, all four children lined up on the front pew, threatened within an inch of their lives into sitting still and quiet. Those long sermons about sex outside of marriage, abortion, sin in general … Her father hadn’t meant many of them, since years later he had an affair with a church secretary.

Talk about disgracing the family. She didn’t want to think about that now. The fact was that this was her dilemma, and it was nothing like the dilemma her brother faced. She had to get over it.

She could deal with it quickly … put it all behind her …

She rolled the wand up in the plastic, stuck it back in the zipped pocket in her purse. She could hear her sister and the kids out by the pool, splashing and laughing. Juliet was holding it all together somehow, the poster child for Strength. Holly, on the other hand, was the model for Stupidity.

She splashed water on her face, dried it off, and drew in a deep breath. Then she clicked on her phone, checked her voice mail. The taxi company she contracted with had probably tried to call with some fares. But there were none. Quickly, she checked her email.

She saw one from Jay. She frowned. When had he sent it? She clicked on it, thinking it had come from the police station. Then she saw it was sent earlier today. He’d sent it to all his sisters.

Holly gasped and almost dropped the phone. Had he sent this before he went to Annalee’s house? Surely he hadn’t meant to do anything drastic.

The nausea that had been plaguing her each morning rose up to constrict her throat. She lunged for the toilet, heaved into the bowl.

A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do
.

Had Jay been that desperate? He still might have won the custody battle. Holly rinsed her mouth, grabbed her purse, and stumbled out of the bathroom to show the email to Juliet. The doorbell stopped her.

No one else was in the house, so she went to the front door, looked out the peephole. Annalee’s brother and mother stood there, both of them looking distraught. Tears sprang to Holly’s eyes again as she opened the door.

“Warren,” she said. “Mrs. Haughton, come in.”

Annalee’s mother leaned on her walker as if she could barely stand. Cancer had weakened her body, so that she was almost an invalid. Holly could only imagine what she was dealing with since she’d found out about her daughter’s death. She hugged her, but the woman was stiff, unresponsive. “Mrs. Haughton, I’m so sorry about Annalee. We’re all so upset.”

“I just want to see my grandson,” she muttered, her voice phlegmy. “Where is he?”

“He’s outside swimming. Juliet hasn’t told him. Jay wanted to tell Jackson himself.”

As they stepped into the foyer, Holly looked up at Warren, Annalee’s brother. He looked shaken, distracted as always. He had asked Holly out a dozen times, but she’d never been attracted to him. He wasn’t bad looking, but he had as much trouble as she had holding a job.

Her friends would label him the man of her dreams, since she was usually drawn to losers. Thankfully, she wasn’t drawn to him.

Now, the hollow look in his eyes told her he was hurting, so she gave him a hug. “Warren, are you okay?”

He ignored the question. “What are they saying about Jay? Do they think he’s the one who did this?”

“No, no, they’re just questioning him,” she said. “He’s the one who found her.”

“What … what did he say?” Annalee’s mother asked. “About her … being in the bathroom?”

“I haven’t been able to talk to him privately,” Holly said. “Cathy’s with him at the police station. He’s coming straight here when they let him go. Please, come sit down.”

Mrs. Haughton made her way to the couch in the den, dropped down, and looked out the large picture window toward her grandson, splashing in the pool without a care in the world. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her skin lax and drooping. She breathed hard, her shoulders rising and falling with the effort. Pain — probably emotional as well as physical — etched deep, craggy lines into her face.

“We’ll take him now,” Warren said, peering out the window.

Holly gasped. “Jackson? No, you can’t! He’s fine. We’ve fed him, and Jay wanted us to put him to bed. When he gets home, he can decide when Jackson needs to be told.”

“We don’t want him with Jay,” Warren bit out.

Holly realized where this was going, and she stood straighter, lifted her chin. “My brother did not hurt his wife, and he’s never hurt his son, despite what Annalee claimed.”

“He found her,” Warren said. “He hasn’t been over there in a year except to pick up Jackson. You think it’s a coincidence that he just happened to walk in right after somebody murdered her?”

Holly thought of the email she’d just read. She still had
the phone in her hand. She slipped it into her pocket. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why it happened. All I know is that Jackson is better off staying here. Mrs. Haughton, I know you don’t feel well, and you’re probably in shock. It’s not a good time for you to be babysitting.”

Mrs. Haughton shook her head weakly, as if she had nothing to say to that.

But Warren wasn’t giving up. “We can take care of him.”

“It’s not a good idea,” Holly said more emphatically. “I think his father is the best judge of what’s best for him.”

“His father could be a murderer.” Warren started to the back door. “I’m going to see my nephew.”

Holly blocked his way. “You’re not going out there, Warren.”

Warren stared at her, and for a moment she thought he might press the issue. He was bigger than she, but she didn’t fight fair. This could get ugly. But suddenly, his shoulders slumped. “Holly, I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“You’re gonna have to take my word for it. There’s no sense in upsetting him.” She pointed to the window. “Look at him. Nothing’s gonna change by sheltering him from this tragedy until he has to find out. Let him play! He’s five!”

Mrs. Haughton brought her gnarled hand to her face. As she melted into sobs, Warren went to sit beside her. Rubbing her back, he said, “Mama, are you all right?”

“She’s right,” Mrs. Haughton rasped. “Let’s just let him be. He’s okay here.” She struggled to her feet again and Warren helped her up. As Mrs. Haughton grabbed her walker, she said, “Please call me when you hear what’s happening to Jay. Or anything involving the investigation. I don’t know if they’ll keep us informed.”

“Okay.” Holly grabbed a notepad out of her purse and jotted down her phone number. “I’ll give you all three of
our numbers — mine, Juliet’s, and Cathy’s. You can call us anytime for an update.”

“Let us know if they lock him up,” Warren said.

Holly felt nauseous again. “Look, there’s a lot of confusion right now. Everybody’s wound up. The police are doing their jobs. They’ll get to the bottom of this and realize that Jay didn’t do anything.”

As they reached the front door, Warren turned and looked out the back window again. Jackson jumped off the side of the pool into his Aunt Juliet’s arms, sputtering and laughing. You couldn’t tell she was grieving about her sister-in-law. Holly knew better, but Warren clearly didn’t.

“Family celebration, huh? I guess Jay figured out how to get Jackson, didn’t he? He wasn’t going to win the custody battle. Annalee was too good a mother. So he took matters into his own hands.”

Again, Holly thought of that email. If only she could delete it so no one would ever see it. “What happened to Annalee today was a tragedy. But it has nothing to do with what they were going through. She’s the one who emailed him, asking him to come over.”

“Absolutely not,” Warren said. “She would never do that.”

“They were in love and married for years. They have a child together. You don’t think it’s even possible that she would want to bypass the lawyers and just have a conversation about what was best for Jackson?”

“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, minute
s
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.”