Chapter 30

“Consuela, I’m heading out,” Ruby said to the housekeeper, who was arranging a vase of fresh-cut flowers in the foyer. Meeting with nosey friends for a weekly lunch of salad and gossip wasn’t at the top of Ruby’s things to do list, but she also didn’t want to fuel questions about her absence. However, if the women probed too deeply about her current state of mind, she would plead another appointment and bow out early.

“Will you and Mr. Quentin be home for dinner tonight?” Consuela asked as Ruby gripped the doorknob.

Ruby adjusted the strand of pearls around her neck, then turned back to face the housekeeper. “For now, plan on both of us being here.”

“And Miss Jillian?” Consuela asked.

A finger of worry traced along Ruby’s spine. Jillian had been moody since Ruby’s encounter with Melender. “My daughter has other plans for tonight. If that changes, I will let you know.”

“Very good, Ms. Ruby. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you.” She flashed a fake smile.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” Consuela gathered up the detritus from the flower arrangement and bustled toward the kitchen.

With a sigh, Ruby pulled open the front door and bit back a yelp of surprise. On her doorstep stood a tall man with silver threading his dark hair and a younger woman holding a reusable grocery bag. Ruby put her hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Thompson.” The man removed his sunglasses, tucking them into his suit coat pocket. Then he took out a small folder and flipped it open to reveal a badge and ID card. “I’m Detective Livingston, and this is my partner, Detective Collier, with the Fairfax County Police Department. May we come in?”

Ruby recovered enough to affect a nonchalance she didn’t feel inside. “What’s this about?”

“It would be best if we talked inside,” Livingston spoke firmly but politely, his eyes never leaving Ruby’s face.

“You can have five minutes,” Ruby snapped, not caring she sounded ungracious. She led the way into the small sitting room directly to the right of the entrance, then pulled out her phone to check the time. 11:37.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid we have some rather disturbing news,” Livingston said.

Ruby’s heart rate accelerated. It hadn’t occurred to her they could be bringing news of Jesse to her. Something about her demeanor must have alarmed Livingston because he gently took her arm and guided her to sit on the love seat.

“Have you…” Ruby couldn’t finish the question.

“No, we haven’t located your son.” Livingston guessed what she had started to ask. “But we do have new information related to his disappearance.”

Ruby tried to process what the detective was saying. “What could possibly be uncovered after all this time?”

“We recovered twenty thousand dollars of the ransom money,” Collier said.

Ruby frowned. “You found some of the ransom money?” This didn’t make sense. She’d always assumed the money had been spent by whoever had helped Melender dispose of the body. While the prosecution hadn’t brought up the ransom during Melender’s trial, Ruby firmly believed Melender had an accomplice who handled the ransom drop and who had spirited the money out of the country to avoid detection. “Where did the money turn up?”

“On the body of a man named TJ Williams, Jared’s former drug dealer,” Livingston said. “Williams was murdered.”

“Murdered? That’s horrible.” At the mention of Jared, a sense of foreboding invaded Ruby’s body. Surely, Jared had nothing to do with this, but in her mind’s eye, she flashed back to all the arguments Jared and Quentin had about money in the weeks leading up to Jesse’s disappearance.

“Jared Thompson’s fingerprints have been identified on the ransom money.” Livingston leaned forward. “Early this morning, Jared confessed to writing the note and picking up the ransom. He further said he’d given Williams the twenty thousand in an attempt to throw suspicion away from him.”

“Ruby!” Quentin called from the foyer. Her husband appeared in the doorway a moment later, his eyes sweeping past the detectives to meet her gaze.

“Is it true?” Ruby stared at Quentin. “Did Jared kidnap Jesse?” An emotion she couldn’t identify crossed her husband’s face as he joined her on the loveseat.

“No, my darling. Jared had nothing to do with Jesse’s disappearance.”

“How do you know?” Surely her husband hadn’t known about Jared’s involvement with the ransom when it had happened.

“His lawyer just called me.” Quentin enveloped her hands in his, but Ruby pulled away, not wanting his comfort at a time like this. “I’m sure Jared took advantage of the situation and pretended to have kidnapped Jesse for the ransom, which he didn’t spend after hearing the bills had been recorded and marked.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Livingston said.

Ruby turned to the detective. “What do you mean?”

“You probably don’t remember, but I was one of the detectives working your son’s case,” Livingston said. “When we discovered the ransom money with Jared’s prints on it, I pulled the original files. Mr. Thompson, you stated you and your wife were at a charity event at the country club about two miles from this house on the night Jesse disappeared.”

“Is it really necessary to drag this up again?” Quentin’s sharp tone suggested he thought otherwise.

“In light of your son’s confession, I think so,” Livingston answered.

“Then yes, we were at the club that night. Ruby had been on the committee to raise funds for a local children’s charity.” Quentin again reached for Ruby’s hands, but she linked hers together instead. “Which charity was it for, my dear?”

Ruby didn’t want to revisit that evening, but after a few seconds, the name of the organization came to her. “The Children’s Hope.”

“How much did the event raise for the charity?” Collier asked.

Ruby looked down at her hands. She could do this. She could relive the worst night of her life yet again. Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “I think it was nearly a quarter of a million dollars. In addition to the dinner, we had a silent auction with some remarkable items, including a necklace worn by Princess Grace of Monaco and a signed first edition of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. That one sold for more than twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“I don’t think you need to give the detectives a laundry list of the auction items, my darling.” Quentin had pitched his voice to sooth, but, instead, Ruby bristled at the implication she was oversharing. It was his son who had taken advantage of their grief and fear and added to it with the bogus ransom note and payment. While Melender had put things into motion, Jared had done something even worse—given them hope Jesse would be returned once the ransom had been paid.

Ruby turned to her husband. “You didn’t think the list so insignificant when the item you wanted was sold right out from underneath you.”

“I’ve never been to a silent auction,” Collier interjected before Quentin could respond. “How does it work?”

“For the auction, you submitted sealed bids for the items, which were on display for a week before the dinner and dance. Then on the night of the event, the winners were announced,” Ruby explained. “You had to be present to win. Quentin had the winning bid but wasn’t in the ballroom when the results were announced. So the winner of the charming little woodcut of a mountain laurel I wanted for my birthday went to someone else.”

Beside her, Quentin tensed slightly. “I had a phone call, so I excused myself.”

“What time did the announcements take place?” Livingston said.

“It must have been close to ten o’clock because it was after dinner but before the dancing commenced.” As if Ruby could forget one single moment of that awful night.

Collier jotted something down in a small notebook. “Mr. Thompson, where did you go?”

“The patio.”

“Who called you?” Livingston asked.

Quentin grimaced. “The later events of the evening overshadowed the mundane, so I can’t recall exactly. Probably related to my business, or I wouldn’t have taken the call. We were negotiating a particularly tricky deal.”

“Any idea when you returned to the party?” Collier poised her pen over her notebook.

“Maybe an hour or so later?”

Her husband’s uncertainty prompted Ruby to assist with his recollection of the evening. “I think it was about eleven. He found me as the band started playing a fox trot. Quentin dances the fox trot as if he was channeling Fred Astaire.”

Even as she kept her tone light, the peevishness she’d felt that night by his prolonged absence came flooding back and another memory assailed her. She eyed her husband. “But you weren’t in a good mood. You were scowling and out of sorts and didn’t even finish the dance with me. Instead, you practically thrust me into the arms of Harvey Johnson.” She flashed the detectives a brilliant smile to hide her remembered discomfort. “Thank goodness, Harvey didn’t mind.”

“I don’t think the detectives want to rehash our entire evening.” Quentin took her hand in a firm grip she didn’t resist, then shifted his focus back to the detectives. “Exactly where is this going?”

“Jared said he was in the house that night,” Livingston stated crisply. “The nanny said you had left him in charge of the younger children because Melender was at a high school graduation party down the street.”

“Are you suggesting Jared and Melender were in it together?” Ruby couldn’t keep the horror from her voice.

“The investigation didn’t find Melender had anything to do with the ransom note or drop,” Livingston said. “Just the opposite. She was either being questioned by police or in custody at the crucial times for the ransom. That’s why she was never charged with that crime.”

Quentin tugged Ruby to her feet as he stood. “This is old news, detective. Unless you have something new to add, we’re done here.”

Livingston reached into the bag and brought out a clear plastic bag with something blue inside. “Today, this was hand-delivered to Melender Harman’s door.” Livingston extended the bag to Ruby. “Do you recognize it, Mrs. Thompson?”

Ruby reflexively accepted the bag, her eyes widening. She shook her head. “Oh, no.” Raising her head, she glanced at her husband. “It’s Jesse’s blue bunny.”

* * *

Brogan hit sendto forward Fallon the story on the recovered ransom money and Jared’s confession. Livingston had reluctantly agreed to allow Seth to photograph the bunny, since it pertained to a closed case. Fallon had hinted the story might make the front page of Wednesday’s midweek edition.

His desk phone buzzed. Fallon’s extension flashed on the display. “Hello?”

“In my office. Now.” Fallon clicked off.

Brogan replaced the phone and grabbed his notebook. On his way to Fallon’s office, he tried not to worry about the summons. If his editor had a problem with Brogan’s work, Fallon wouldn’t hesitate to let him know.

Fallon’s secretary waved him through to the editor’s office.

“Ah, Brogan. Have a seat.” Fallon removed his reading glasses and tossed them on top of a pile of papers. “I finished your piece on the ransom money and Jared Thompson’s confession. Solid writing.”

“Thank you.” Brogan settled into one of the chairs in front of the desk.

“And good work getting Seth to photograph the child’s stuffed animal. We’re going to hold off on that part of the story for now. I think there’s more to be said than a rabbit belonging to Jesse Thompson showing up on Melender Harman’s doorstep. I want you to get the reaction from the Thompsons and also verify if the stuffed animal actually was Jesse’s. What do the police think?”

“About the bunny?”

Fallon nodded.

Brogan shrugged. “Livingston wouldn’t speculate on how the bunny got to Melender. He was taking it to the Thompsons’ this afternoon to see if it was Jesse’s.”

“And you’ll follow up with the detective?”

“Livingston said he would call me after the visit,” Brogan said, adding, “I’ll contact him in case he forgets.”

“Good.” Fallon picked up his glasses but didn’t perch them back on his nose. “When we break this story tomorrow morning, it’s going to generate a public feeding frenzy. The Thompson case was big news when it happened, and Quentin Thompson has only become more powerful in the intervening years. He has many friends in high places, and this kind of revelation will not be welcomed by his business associates.”

Brogan had considered that as well. “Which is why we need to be on top of this story.”

“Exactly.” Fallon placed his glasses on and reached for a red Sharpie. “I think this story will break, and we have a real opportunity to scoop the big boys. You have the inside track on this one. Don’t squander it.”

“I won’t.” Brogan rose as his cell phone buzzed. Out of the office, he answered. “Brogan Gilmore.”

“It’s Detective Livingston.” The other man cleared his throat. “We have confirmation from the Thompsons the bunny was Jesse’s, last seen in his crib the night he went missing.”

“Go on.” Brogan bit back the questions he wanted to ask and let the detective unspool his thoughts in his own time.

“We also discovered Quentin Thompson was absent from the charity event for an hour or so that evening.”

Brogan did a fist pump in the air at the news as he settled into his desk chair but kept his tone neutral. “That corroborates the nanny’s testimony she saw him on the phone outside during the event.”

“True, but it’s still not enough to actively reopen a closed case. However, we do have a solid case against Jared for the attempted kidnapping apart from his confession.”

Brogan wedged his phone against his ear and opened his notepad. “Can you give me the details?”

Livingston sketched out the facts. Finding Jared’s fingerprints—which were on file because of Jesse’s disappearance—on some of the ransom money, connecting with an officer on the drug squad who had Snake under surveillance, and getting photographs of Jared and Snake on the night in question. Then Jared confessed he was behind the ransom.

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“He will be formally charged with attempted kidnapping.”

“Whoa, only attempted kidnapping?” Brogan didn’t bother to hide his surprise. Jared’s involvement in the kidnapping surely opened up the possibility he had something to do with Jesse’s disappearance.

“Since Melender’s been convicted of killing Jesse, that means Jared couldn’t have actually kidnapped his younger brother. Not in the eyes of the law,” Livingston said.

“Which means this ties up one loose end related to the case but does nothing to point to Melender’s innocence.” Brogan’s heart ached for Melender, who would be glad to be cleared of suspicion of kidnapping Jesse but disappointed it hadn’t led to overturning her murder conviction.

“That’s right.” Livingston paused. “Listen, my boss has told us to lay off questioning the Thompsons again. There’s nothing in Jared’s confession about the ransom that sheds new light on Harman’s conviction, since she was never officially charged with kidnapping Jesse.”

Brogan rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, that’s what I figured would happen.” The Thompsons, with their money and connections, had most likely made a few phone calls to stop what Quentin would undoubtedly have labeled as police harassment.

“So that’s it then.” At least from the police perspective, Brogan had hoped Livingston would look at the case with fresh eyes.

“From the Fairfax County Police Department’s perspective, yes.”

“I appreciate your call.”

“The brass said I could let you know on the record about it, since your tip was instrumental in cracking that part of the case.”

Brogan wanted to slap his forehead. He had been so focused on the Thompson angle, he nearly forgot to follow up on the Williams murder. “Did you find out who killed Williams?”

“Yep, Fernando Jones, a junkie who didn’t have enough money for his next fix.”

Brogan jotted down the name as he asked a few other questions to wrap up his story on the murder. “Thanks, detective.”

“There is one more thing.”

Brogan waited, his mind already busy composing the lead to his story about the Williams’ death and Jared’s confession.

“I’m going to be taking a few hours off, starting tonight. My lieutenant’s been after me to whittle down my accrued PTO or lose it,” Livingston continued in a casual tone. “But with my missus off visiting her sister, I’m a bit at loose ends. I don’t suppose you have any reading material that might make the time pass by a little quicker?”

The import of Livingston’s words hit him square in the jaw. He strove to keep his tone as nonchalant as the detective’s. “I think I just might, if you care to stop by my uncle’s house later today.”

“Give me a good time to drop by.”

“Come around seven.”

Livingston agreed and ended the call. Brogan sent Melender a series of texts to update her on what had happened but didn’t mention Livingston coming over. She would be at work when the detective arrived, and Brogan didn’t want her hopes raised that Livingston was on their side.