CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

C HAPTER T WENTY -N INE

Kaylynn Alcozar sipped her coffee as she stared out the window overlooking Forty-Fifth Street. It was Saturday and everything appeared eerily tranquil and serene. Their block was usually bustling with activity on the weekends—people walking their dogs, entire families riding bicycles in a neat little row, waving at passersby as they rolled along.

The fundraiser was set for today. There would be lots of spaghetti and garlic bread. Kaylynn had signed up to bring pies, which she had baked last night. Others had been assigned salad and cookies. There would be plenty of food for anyone living within or even outside the Fabulous Forties. The price for a plastic stick-on bracelet to get in line for food was twenty dollars, free for children under five. All proceeds would go to Children’s Receiving Home of Sacramento (CRH), a charity dedicated to helping children by providing hope and healing for kids who needed it most. This was the first time since Kaylynn and Nicolas had moved here that Becky and Holly Bateman weren’t already outside setting up. Eventually, the entire block would be sectioned off with orange cones and ribbon. Two ten-by-twelve-foot canopies would provide cover for the tables laden with food.

But it was already nine o’clock. And nothing was happening out there.

It had been a stressful week. Kaylynn wondered whether the fundraiser had been canceled. She hoped so. The one thing she was grateful for today was that Detectives Seicinski and Toye hadn’t reached out again. She’d heard from Dianne, who heard from Jason, who heard from Wesley, that Holly Bateman had been arrested yesterday morning and then released by late afternoon. Apparently, nearly everyone in the neighborhood had been in and out of Rosella’s house in the days leading up to the murder. The killer could be anyone.

Kaylynn kept thinking about Monday night, though. How she’d awoken after midnight to go to the bathroom and seen two figures outside Rosella’s house. At first, because of the sizes of the silhouettes, she’d thought it might be the twins, Blake and Ridley. Over the past year, she’d sensed Ridley’s animosity toward Rosella. And Rosella never talked about Ridley, which was odd. Rosella talked about everyone, including the small children. So when Kaylynn had talked to the detectives about seeing someone outside, she hadn’t wanted to point fingers. But lately, she couldn’t stop thinking about returning to bed and finding it empty. She hadn’t asked Nicolas about it because a part of her didn’t want to know.

But not knowing was eating her up, interfering with her ability to concentrate on daily tasks. She knew what needed to be done. She needed to protect her family. She left her coffee cup on the table and went in search of her phone and the business card Detective Seicinski had given her.

Shannon had spent the entire morning baking homemade chocolate chip cookies while thinking about what her daughter’s attacker had said.

Trey was adamant about her stepping back and letting it go: no more asking questions or looking for clues. He was worried sick, and understandably so. But how could she move on as if nothing had happened to Mac? How would she ever allow Mac to go on a walk or ride her bike without monitoring her closely?

If she and Chloe did let it go, was that a guarantee this person would simply leave them all alone? No way! She refused to live in fear. The attack had made her more determined than ever to take proactive steps toward solving the mystery of Rosella’s death.

“I’m feeling much better,” Mac told her. “I’m walking without a limp.”

“Let me see.”

Mac pulled up her shirt. The bruise on Mac’s hip had yellowed around the edges. It was hard to tell anything had happened to her. But that didn’t mean Shannon thought her daughter should go to today’s neighborhood event.

“I don’t think she should go,” Trey said.

Mac looked from her dad to Shannon. “I promised Holly I would be in charge of watching after the kids. I want to do it!”

Shannon knew Mac also wanted to talk to Blake to make sure he wasn’t mad at her for saying he’d been acting different. That was, if the detectives had repeated what she’d said.

“It’s up to you,” Shannon told her husband.

“Please,” Mac begged. “I’ll stay with the smaller kids the entire time. I promise.”

“Fine,” he said. “But don’t go anywhere, not even back to the house, without telling one of us, okay?”

Mac agreed and Shannon handed them each a foil pan filled to the brim with cookies and covered with Saran Wrap.

She and Trey exchanged looks. After a string of stressful days, they were both craving a reprieve from the chaos. It felt like ages since she’d woken up with Trey at her side. They had made love and enjoyed coffee in bed. She knew he wasn’t excited about spending his one day off with the neighbors, not with everything going on, but when he smiled at her, his eyes were bright, and she could tell he was happy to do his part.

Shannon grabbed the last two pans of cookies and followed them out the door. If her daughter hadn’t been threatened and Rosella’s murderer weren’t running free, she might have taken a moment to enjoy the blue skies and sunshine. But as it was, she walked on, feeling confident that at least things couldn’t get any worse.

Shannon stood with Kaylynn and Dianne as the party wound down. Chloe had run off to pour champagne into some clear plastic cups to celebrate a record-earning fundraiser. The event had gone smoothly, better than any of them dared hope, with way more attendees than expected. There were games for the kids: cornhole and face makeup. Plenty of food and drinks. Once the festivities dwindled down to predominantly the people on their block, they would start to clean up.

“I can’t believe you’re still not talking to me,” Shannon overheard Becky say from close by.

“I can’t believe you’ve been fucking Wesley Leavitt,” Holly shot back, her voice a low growl, but not so low that Shannon and the others couldn’t overhear.

Kaylynn and Dianne nudged one another.

“If you don’t want to help clean up,” Holly said, “feel free to run off. Maybe you should give Wesley a call and see what he’s up to.”

“I told you, it’s over.”

“Probably a good thing since he won’t be able to afford expensive restaurants or nice hotels. No more high-end, ridiculously expensive sunglasses.”

“What are you talking about?” Becky asked.

“I heard from Dianne that Chloe closed off Wesley’s access to her bank accounts.”

They all looked at Dianne, who made a face. “It’s true. I can’t deny it.”

“Yep,” Holly said. “That’s what happens when you mess around. You destroy lives. Good job.”

“Our cute little block is falling apart,” Kaylynn said in a quiet voice.

Chloe returned and passed a plastic cup to each of them. Her forehead wrinkled when she turned to face Shannon. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t do it,” Shannon said, mostly to herself, as she watched Trey walk right up to Jason Abbott. She’d had no idea Trey still intended to talk to the man until she saw him approach Jason and heard raised voices. She watched closely as things quickly spiraled out of control.

“Don’t do what?” Chloe asked, prompting all of them to follow Shannon’s gaze.

Jason’s face had turned bright red. “How many different ways can I tell you, buddy. Rosella and I had a history that went way back. All I wanted to do was talk to your wife and tell her my side of the story.”

“My wife had a traumatic morning and didn’t want to talk to you. When someone tells you no, it means no,” Trey said.

With two kids in tow, Mac appeared at Shannon’s side. “Mom. You have to stop them. What is Dad doing? This is embarrassing.”

Jason grabbed hold of the top of Trey’s button-down shirt. “Big Doctor Man thinks he’s going to teach me a lesson, is that it?”

Trey’s gaze fell to the fistfuls of his shirt in Jason’s grasp. “Get your hands off me.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

The minute Shannon saw the look on her husband’s face, his stiff jaw and piercing eyes, she knew there was going to be trouble. “Please,” she said, handing Chloe the plastic cup and running toward them. “Stop this nonsense.”

But it was too late.

Trey’s fist made contact with Jason’s jaw, sending him to the ground. Jason scrambled to his feet, ready to duke it out.

Shannon had seen Trey angry before, but she’d never seen him actually use his fist to strike a man. She didn’t like it one bit. She was furious with him.

Dianne joined the feisty group just as someone called out in a loud, slurry voice, “One big happy family!” It was Wesley. He stumbled drunkenly through a small crowd that had gathered, people Shannon didn’t recognize who no doubt lived on another block.

As Wesley approached, he tripped on his own feet, giving his body enough momentum to careen forward, right into Dianne’s chest. Her arms were like windmills as she tried to catch her balance. Becky, appearing out of the blue, shot forward in time to catch Dianne and stop her from toppling over.

Wesley’s gaze fell on Becky. He frowned. “Why haven’t you answered my calls?”

Becky ignored him. She made sure Dianne was good on her feet before she walked away.

“Come back,” he cried before meeting Chloe’s gaze. He swayed slightly but managed to keep his balance. “My love,” he said. “My darling wife. The only woman for me.”

Blake appeared. “Stop it, Dad. Enough.”

Shannon froze when she overheard Kaylynn and Nicolas Alcozar talking less than a few feet away.

“It’s time to go home,” Nicolas told his wife.

“No,” she said. “We’re going to stay and help clean up.”

“Well, I’m going home.”

“Surprise, surprise.” She sounded resentful. “It’s a great life, isn’t it? Always hiding, afraid of our own shadows. All because of you.”

Shannon wondered whether anyone else had heard what they were saying, but all eyes appeared to be on Wesley and whatever he was saying to his eldest son. Shannon found it interesting Rosella had said the same thing to Shannon ... The Alcozars are afraid of their own shadows, and they’re hiding something.

“Tell Holiday I went home,” Nicolas told Kaylynn. “It’s getting hot.”

“I told you not to wear a long-sleeved shirt,” she said. “And Holiday never came to the party. He’s in his room. Your son is always in his room. Do you know why?” Before Nicolas could answer, Kaylynn said, “Because you’ve made it impossible for him to go anywhere without being scared to death he might say the wrong thing.”

When Shannon began to think this day could not possibly get any worse, it did. Detective Seicinski and Detective Toye had arrived. Maybe they had come to donate money to their cause? She was kidding herself, of course, and at the same time, praying they weren’t here to arrest her.

Shannon couldn’t find Chloe in the crowd. She saw Kaylynn pull on her husband’s shirt and say, “Those are the detectives I told you about.”

“I’ll go check on Holiday,” he said. “I’ll see you at home.”

Nicolas was gone in a flash. But Shannon no longer had any interest in the Alcozars. Her focus was on Detective Seicinski, whose gaze was laser-focused as she scanned the crowd for her prey. She stiffened before taking long single-minded strides. Shannon followed the detective’s gaze, surprised to see her walking toward Ridley Leavitt. Why? And where was Mac?

Panic began to set in until she saw Mac with three-year-old Charley propped on her good hip. She was talking to Rowan, no doubt trying to keep the boy’s attention away from his father. Once Shannon knew Mac was fine, she made a beeline toward Ridley, hoping to draw her away before Detective Seicinski got to her. Blake must have had the same idea because he was at his sister’s side in a flash.

“Stand aside, please,” Detective Seicinski told Blake. “We’re here to arrest Ridley Leavitt for the murder of Rosella Marlow.”

“Fuck off!” Ridley said. “That’s stupid.”

“You have nothing on her,” Blake told the detectives. “It’s all circumstantial. An ugly stick doll I made myself.”

“You made the doll?”

“Yes!” he cried.

He looked wide-eyed and scared. He is lying, Shannon thought.

“We have a witness who saw you and your sister at Rosella’s house around one thirty in the morning on the day of the murder. Ridley’s fingerprints are on the doll and all over the house.”

“So are mine,” Blake said.

Shannon gave up looking for Chloe. “This is silly,” she told the detective. “You’re talking to a couple of teenagers. Everyone’s fingerprints were on the murder weapon, including mine.”

“Move out of the way, Mrs. Gibbons, or you’ll be handcuffed and brought to the station, too.”

Blake no longer held any emotion on his face when he said, “I returned home with Ridley the night you’re talking about. When she fell asleep, I went back to Rosella’s house and killed her.”

Ridley stepped forward and grabbed her brother’s arm. “Stop it, Blake.” Tears started to fall. “He didn’t do it. Neither of us killed Rosella. You and Lurch”—she gave Detective Toye the evil eye—“don’t know what you’re doing. Blake is innocent. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“No,” Blake said, using one hand to push his sister out of the way. “I killed Rosella Marlow. I had no choice. Ridley wasn’t even there.”

Another sob escaped Ridley. “Stop it, Blake.” Her gaze fell on Detective Seicinski, her eyes pleading. “He’s lying and you know it!”

Detective Toye began to read Blake his rights while Detective Seicinski handcuffed him.

Shannon ran to get Chloe, who was helping Holly with cleanup inside the house. The door to Holly’s house was open. She ran inside. “Chloe! You have to come. Quickly!”

Chloe was wiping her hands on a towel when she appeared. “What’s going on? What has Wesley done now?”

“No. It’s Blake. The detectives showed up. They came to arrest Ridley, but Blake confessed to the murder of Rosella Marlow, and they’re putting him in handcuffs.”

Chloe’s face turned as white as chalk. The towel dropped to the floor as she walked past Shannon. As soon as she hit solid ground outside, she started running.

By the time Shannon got back outside, Rowan and Ridley were clinging to Chloe as the crowd watched Blake being escorted away in handcuffs. Some people were crying, while others clung to their children and whispered to the person standing next to them. Chloe’s eyes were vacant and hollow. Her face was pale. She was hanging on by a thread.