Chapter 31

I was sitting across the street from Ray and Valerie’s house, hoping Ray would leave the house so I could speak to Valerie alone. At the three-hour mark, I started getting antsy. There was at least one more stop I wanted to make today, and I was beginning to wonder if I was wasting my time.

I’d passed the minutes checking in with Hunter and Simone and catching up with Foley. Hunter had found out some things about Ray’s past. He had nothing before he met Valerie, and he worked minimum-wage jobs, never staying in any one position for long.

In my conversation with Foley, he let me know he’d tried calling Danny Donovan about an hour before, but Danny hadn’t answered. He’d also tried Danny’s sister, Dorothy, and got the same result. I wanted to believe the story Danny had told me, and I wanted to believe he was innocent. But the fact neither of them had answered their phones or returning their calls was suspect. Before the call ended, Foley let me know he was sending Whitlock to Danny’s residence to check in.

As my concerns about Danny grew, I started second-guessing myself. Perhaps I’d been na?ve, buying into the story he’d told me about stumbling across the bodies and being too afraid to talk to the police. If he was guilty, he’d done a good job of fooling me so far.

The day took a turn in my favor when I caught a glimpse of Ray walking out of the house, twirling a key ring around his fingers. He was dressed like he had a date with the gym. I watched him walk to his pickup, adjusting his rearview mirror after he hopped inside.

Although I’d lowered myself down in my seat, for a moment, I thought he’d seen me. He’d backed out of the driveway and was idling in the middle of the road for no apparent reason. He reached for what looked like a pack of gum, popped a piece in his mouth, and put the truck in drive.

After he rounded the corner, I waited a few minutes just in case he came back for some reason. When it appeared I was in the clear, I got out of the car.

No one came to the door when I knocked, but there was a vehicle in the driveway, suggesting someone was home.

Looking around, I spotted a doorbell.

I pressed the doorbell.

I waited.

Still nothing.

I debated about what to do next and decided to jiggle the door handle, surprised to find it was unlocked. I considered my options and decided to open the door, poking my head inside as I said, “Valerie, are you here?”

If she was there, she didn’t respond, and if Ray was headed to the gym, and he came home afterward, I didn’t have long.

I had a decision to make, and I made it.

I’d just stepped inside the house when I spotted a woman coming down the hallway. She was dressed in a robe and had a towel wrapped around her head.

She saw me, and she screamed.

I didn’t blame her.

I was an intruder in her house.

As she turned and ran in the opposite direction, I shouted, “Valerie, I’m sorry I entered the house without your permission. I knocked, and I rang the doorbell. When no one came to the door, I realized it was unlocked, and I came inside. I should have waited.”

A door slammed at the end of the hall.

I remained where I was and tried again.

“My name is Georgiana Germaine. I’m a private investigator working on your son’s case. My associate, Simone, visited with you and your husband the other day. I have some followup questions, and I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes.”

I waited one minute, then two.

The bedroom door remained closed.

I wondered if she’d texted Ray, telling him I was in the house.

As much as I wanted to stay, I needed to get out of there.

“Listen, Valerie … again, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m going to head out, but before I do, there’s one thing I want to say. I’ve learned something as I’ve been investigating this case. It’s what I came to talk to you about. When Jackson was alive, one of his classmates thought he was being abused. She tried talking to him about it, but he wouldn’t say anything. I was hoping you might know something about that. Anyway, I’m leaving now.”

My opportunity to speak to Jackson’s mother had been dashed thanks to my impulsive nature. I left the house feeling deflated, the opposite of how I’d felt that morning.

I was halfway back to my car when I heard, “Georgiana, wait.”

I turned to see Valerie standing in the doorway.

“I don’t have much time,” she said. “I can’t talk about Jackson when Ray is home.”

I got right to it. “At the cabin, I noticed some items placed around the area where Jackson died. Someone left a football. It looks new.”

“It was me. I visit as often as I can. I go to his grave too. It’s just, that spot at the cabin, it’s where he took his last breath.”

“I’m glad you honor his memory,” I said.

“If you want to speak to me, you should come inside now.”

“Does Ray know I’m here? I guess what I’m asking is, when you shut yourself in the bedroom, did you text or call anyone?”

“I didn’t.”

I had a second chance, and I was determined not to mess it up this time.

I crossed the street, entering the house and following Valerie into a sitting room. She looked at the time and went quiet, as if doing calculations in her head.

“Okay, so … he left about ten minutes ago. Takes about five minutes to get to the gym. His spin class is about an hour. You need to be quick.”

Quick didn’t allow me time to ease into my questions.

But assuming she’d heard what I’d been shouting before, she knew the nature of my visit.

What I wanted to talk about was the bruise over her left eye, but that could wait, for now.

“Do you have any reason to believe your son was being abused when he was alive?” I asked.

“When you say abused, what type of abuse are you talking about and what proof do you have?”

“The girl Jackson was dating, Aubree, she told Cora she’d seen bruises on Jackson’s shoulders and back.”

Valerie began shaking her head.

“No,” she said. “There’s no way. I don’t believe it. Ray … he, he wouldn’t have done anything to hurt Jackson.”

I’d said Aubree thought Jackson was being abused.

I hadn’t said anything about Ray being his abuser.

“Why did you mention Ray just now?” I asked.

“Umm … no reason.”

“There is a reason. What is it?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Can’t what? Can’t admit Ray abuses you, and may have also been abusing Jackson too when he was alive?”

“I was a good mother, you know. I tried to be.”

“I’m sure you were. I bet when Ray was abusive to you back then, you believed if he took all his anger out on you, he wouldn’t touch your son.”

As the tears began to flow, she clasped a hand to her mouth. “Ray … he’s not a bad man. You don’t know him.”

She’d all but admitted the abuse.

I’d just told her Jackson may have suffered the same abuse.

And yet, she still defended him.

“I don’t need to know Ray to know his type,” I said.

“It’s not what you think. It doesn’t happen often. He loves me. He just loses his temper sometimes.”

“I suppose that explains the shiner on your left eye?”

Valerie touched the bruised area. “It’s nothing.”

“Anger in any form of aggression is abuse, Valerie. It’s not love. You don’t hurt the ones you love. Physical abuse is a sign of selfishness, a sign of ownership, a sign of disrespect. I know how hard it can be to stand up for yourself. Maybe you don’t want to, or maybe you don’t because you love him. I bet it’s easier to keep telling yourself he loves you than it is to face the truth.”

She staggered backward, leaning against the wall, sobbing.

I said nothing for a few minutes, giving Valerie the chance to process what had already been said. But time was not on my side.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked. “Did Jackson know you were being abused?”

“He didn’t. I did everything I could to keep it from him.”

“Assuming Jackson was abused, do you think it’s possible he allowed it to go on because he thought the same way you did? Maybe he allowed it because Ray said if he did, he’d leave you alone.”

“Ray wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t have hurt Jackson. He just wouldn’t. Believe what you like, but he loves me.”

I crossed my arms, knowing what I needed to say next would sting even more.

“I believe Ray has been using you to get ahead in life,” I said. “Your father’s business was supposed to go to your son, and if not to him, then to be managed by you. I’m guessing Ray runs the show. Doesn’t he? Seems convenient, like it just fell into his lap. Makes me wonder … a guy like Ray, I bet he’d do whatever he had to in order to get ahead.”

Valerie narrowed her eyes, staring at me in disbelief. “What are you saying? You’re not … you couldn’t be suggesting Ray had anything to do with what happened to those kids?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Ray has a temper at times, but murder? He’d never kill anyone, let alone a group of teens.”

She’d been brainwashed for so long, I wasn’t even sure she knew the man she was married to or what he was capable of doing. And I wouldn’t know either, not until I had the chance to speak to him.

“I’ll tell you what Ray loves,” I said. “He loves the life you provide him. You’re his ticket to ride, his gravy train.”

“Stop it! Stop saying things you don’t know anything about.”

“I’m not trying to upset you, Valerie. I’m trying to make you think. I asked one of my associates to look into Ray’s past. Ray came from nothing. His family was poor. Before he met you, he worked minimum-wage jobs, and even then, he never stayed in any one position for long.”

“Who cares about his past? I don’t. I-I want you to leave.”

“I know you want me to go before Ray gets home, but maybe I should stay and talk to him. I don’t need to mention the abuse or the fact I know about it.”

“No, you need to leave. You need to leave now.”

I stood a moment, trying to decide my next move.

I decided to respect her wishes and allow time for the conversation we’d had to sink in.

“I’ll leave,” I said. “But I’d like to say one last thing before I go.”

Valerie rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, make it quick.”

“Abuse of any kind is never acceptable. I’m just a phone call away. You don’t have to do this on your own. I want you to think about that and to think about your son. You may not have known Jackson was being abused back then, but you know now. The question is … what are you going to do about it?”