CHAPTER 75 - Rita

CHAPTER 75RitaLAUREN WALKS INTO MY OFFICE WITH HAYES BRANCH BEHIND HER.“He wanted to speak with you,” Lauren says.I drop my pencil on my blotter. “Sure. Mr. Branch, have a seat.”He turns and watches Lauren leave and shuts the door behind her before taking a chair.“What can I do for you?”He runs a hand through his hair. He’s had it cut short, and the wild curls are gone.“I want to confess.”I raise my eyebrows. “Okay.” I reach for my phone. I have no idea what he’s about to say, but the way things have been going, I don’t want to take a chance. “Mind if I record you?”“No.” He shakes his head. “That’s fine.”“What’s this about?”He takes a deep breath. “I lied before.”“About?”“My wife’s death.”I lean forward, grab my notebook.His eyes widen. “I didn’t kill her. It’s nothing like that. I miss Amelia every day.”I sit back in my chair. “What then?”“She didn’t die from her heart condition. She had one, and it might’ve killed her one day, but not that day.”“What happened then?”He rubs his eyes under his glasses and blows out a breath. “She killed herself. Suicide. She battled depression her whole life. She was in treatment and took medicine, but she overdosed. On purpose. She left me a goodbye letter on the kitchen table. I still have it locked in my desk drawer.”“Why not come clean at the time?”He lays his glasses on my desk and blinks. “My daughter. Alice was only five years old.” He smiles slightly. “Five going on fifteen. I didn’t want her to know that her mother chose to leave her. I didn’t want her to have to live with that.”“I understand.” I do too. Suicide of a loved one is hard enough for a grown person to handle, let alone a child.Mr. Branch continues, “And if it got out, I wouldn’t have been able to keep it out of the media, and Alice was already reading at a sixth-grade level by then. I couldn’t have shielded my daughter from the fallout, Detective. Amelia was a well-known author and . . .”“And a Branch.”“Yes.”“Why tell me now?”He draws a deep breath. “I figured you guys didn’t believe me, and I didn’t want to worry about being surprised by cops on my doorstep.”“What about your daughter?”He sighs. “She’s old enough to hear the truth, I guess.” His eyes don’t look convinced.“How’d you get the paperwork falsified?”“Branch money.” His gaze meets mine. “I’m not proud of that.”I tap my pencil against my notebook. He leans forward and takes a pen out of my cup holder and scribbles something on the back of a business card he pulled from his wallet.“What’s this?” I ask.“That’s Amelia’s sister’s phone number. Anna was actually the one who found her that day. She called me at the store, hysterical. She had talked to Amelia that morning and was worried about her, so she came over.” Mr. Branch clears his throat and sits up. “Anyway, please give her a call if you need confirmation.”I nod, glance at the sketches in my notebook, one of Alice with her braids. “Where did your wife die? Where did it happen?”He tells me, and I sit back and pick up my phone. Sometimes the humane thing isn’t necessarily the right thing, but you’ve got to make a decision.“Hmmm. Not our jurisdiction then, Mr. Branch. This department won’t be interested in looking into the matter.” I delete the recording from my phone.His eyes meet mine. “Thank you, Detective. These last few weeks have been . . . I don’t have any words.”“Sometimes there aren’t any.”He stands, shakes my hand, and leaves. I wander to the window and watch the snow fall.* * *I eat lunch at my desk, a turkey sandwich and an apple. Time to get back to a healthy diet, but I can’t help but eye the tin on the corner of my desk. Maybe one of André’s oatmeal raisin cookies wouldn’t be too bad. Oatmeal’s good for you. I’m prying up the lid when Chase peeks in at my door and holds up a file folder.“Mrs. Bradley’s here. I’ve got that report she requested.” Chase’s dark eyes meet mine for a second, then his gaze drops to the floor.“Aren’t you supposed to be off today?”“Yeah. I’m leaving shortly.”I stand, walk over to the window, and peer between the slats of the blinds. “Fresh snow. Why don’t you let me talk to Mrs. Bradley so you can get on your way? Looks like a great day to go sledding. Didn’t you tell me that Santa brought Charlie a new sled? Why don’t you and Sarah take him to try it out?” I turn toward him. “You’ve been spending too much time on the job, Chase. It’ll burn you out. I’ll take care of Mrs. Bradley.”Chase hesitates for just a moment. Then hands me the folder. “Yeah. Right. Good idea.” He stops in the doorway. “See you tomorrow, Rita.”When he’s gone, I open the folder. The little Arndt girl’s autopsy results. I say her name aloud, as I do all victims that I come across.“India Marie Arndt.”Four years and ten months old forever. But she existed. She was here.I sigh and head down the hall.