Chapter 9: Aftermath

CHAPTER 9

Aftermath

While we waited for more information on what had happened to Julie, Leo and I fell into a sort of inelegant routine, in which he made himself scarce—I suspect because he didn’t trust himself around me—while others were in the house with us. While he avoided me, I spent my days perfecting the redesigned and updated bedrooms on the second floor.

Seeing everything come together was incredibly rewarding, but the awkward fog of tension that had settled upon Willowbrooke wouldn’t quite allow me to enjoy the process as much as I had hoped. Still, there were moments where I would forget everything that was going on around me and get into this zen work-mode, where creativity flowed out of me. The newly completed spaces felt like a breath of fresh air in the midst of our complicated situation.

At night, when the workers were gone, Leo would return from chasing down leads and trying to learn more about what could have happened to his parents, thirty years apart from one another. He seemed to take joy in seeing each room I completed, pointing out small details, and always needed to have a moment alone to take a deep breath and absorb the space.

After dinner, a couple glasses of wine typically led to steamy makeout sessions on the couch, most of which ended too soon for my liking, but Leo’s restraint impressed me. I’d told him I wanted to take things slow, and he was waiting for permission to move past this initial phase. Unwilling to separate myself from him, I’d fall asleep next to him most nights while he read, comforted by his warmth and our growing connection.

When I was alone with my thoughts during the day, doubt would creep in, and in an effort to protect myself, I think I was almost trying to convince myself if things didn’t work out between Leo and I, it was probably for the better. But when he was next to me, when he was touching me, kissing me, every single doubt melted away. Any anxiety I’d built up over the course of the day would vanish, and there was only him.

It was bliss.

Toward the end of the week, I was putting the finishing touches on the blue room, lost in thought, when Leo found me upstairs.

“This was my room growing up, you know…” Leo wrapped an arm around my waist, gently pulling my back to his front. “It’s never looked better.”

“Danny’s downstairs,” I sighed, placing my hands on his arm.

“I know,” he whispered, placing soft kisses from the crook of my neck up to just below my ear. “I shut the door.”

I laughed at his response. “You’re home early.” I turned in his arms, then pulled his face to mine for another stolen kiss.

“Greg’s here,” he said reluctantly, knowing the moment had now passed.

“Your PI?” I raised a brow.

Leo nodded. “He said he finally got some info from his contact at the local police. I thought you might want to join us.”

“Thank you.” I gave him one final peck on the lips before using the pad of my thumb to wipe my lip gloss from his mouth.

“He’s in the library,” Leo said. “Wait a minute, then come down.”

“Okay.” I smiled, willing to follow his instructions.

I fluffed some pillows and reordered a few decor pieces on the bookshelf before deciding I had waited long enough.

Down in the library, Greg Masters, Leo’s PI friend, wasn’t quite what I had pictured. Perhaps I’d watched one too many noir movies, which had me anticipating a dark and brooding, broad-shouldered gentleman in a suit. Greg wasn’t any of those things. Balding, with a slim build and casual attire, he stood a head below Leo, a backpack slung over one shoulder. I would have pegged him for a reporter over a private detective.

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled as I shook his hand.

Greg returned the gesture, but I got the distinct impression he had been sizing me up from the moment I walked into the room. Every move I made, every word I said, was up for scrutiny. Maybe he was a PI, after all.

Leo closed the library door behind me, locking it, an action that was maybe necessary to avoid interruptions, but still seemed over-the-top.

“Can’t be too careful,” Greg told me, with a hard New England accent, watching my face. Leo had apparently locked the door at his behest.

“You said you have new information.” Leo gestured for both of us to take a seat in the same chairs where I had confessed to finding Christine’s journal after he’d kissed me against the bookshelf.

A glance in the general direction had me blushing.

Greg raised an eyebrow, unable to assign logic to my reaction.

“Initially, they thought it was a burglary gone wrong.” Greg leaned back in the wingback chair. “But the nurse’s husband insists that nothing was taken, there’s no forced entry—in fact there was evidence that she had company.”

“You mentioned she was shot?” Leo asked.

Greg nodded. “Yes, so our murderer came prepared for something.”

I swallowed hard. Hearing the details like this made my stomach turn.

“You should get her some mint tea,” Greg told Leo without even glancing at me.

Leo turned to me questioningly.

“It will help with the nausea,” Greg answered Leo’s question without having been asked.

Leo squeezed my shoulder as he got up from his seat next to me. “I’ll be right back.”

When Leo was out of the room, Greg asked, “How long have you two been together?”

I exhaled a shaky breath. “Not long,” I replied, knowing that lying to the observant man would be pointless and might, in fact, result in him labeling me as untrustworthy. “We’re trying to keep it a secret,” I admitted.

Greg nodded. “Can’t be too careful,” he said again. “He’s a good guy,” he offered without prompting. “He’ll be better than the dirtbag who left you.”

I glared at Greg.

“I do background checks on everyone I work with.” Again, the man answered my silent question. “I’d be a fool not to.”

“Can’t be too careful,” I mimicked Greg.

He let out a boisterous cackle.

“What’d I miss?” Leo returned, taking the trouble to lock the door once again before handing me a steaming cup of tea.

“She’s a good match for you,” Greg told Leo.

Leo eyed me curiously as he sat down, wondering what I had divulged.

“You’re not as sly as you’re both trying to be,” Greg pointed out.

Leo rolled his eyes. “You’ll get used to him,” he told me. “Can we get back to business instead of you interrogating my girlfriend?”

I almost choked on my tea, surprised by the title Leo had bestowed on me without us discussing anything of the kind first. It wasn’t that I minded the label, but it was shocking nonetheless that he thought of me as such. Maybe he was just using a platitude to communicate with Greg? I’d have to tease him about it later. I looked forward to it, in fact.

“They have a suspect.”.

Leo opened his mouth to ask who, but the PI was a step ahead. “You know him—William Mitchell.”

“William?” Leo’s face fell, and his entire body sunk into itself.

“They’ve got a decent amount on the guy,” Greg continued. “DNA evidence from the crime scene, and supposedly they had an affair while she cared for your father, and he doesn’t have a solid alibi for the murder—says he was asleep, at home, alone.”

“An affair?” Leo was incredulous. “I don’t—he wouldn’t—they never…”

“Some people are better at hiding it than others.” Greg raised a brow, clearly referring to Leo and me.

“I don’t believe it,” Leo said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s soft—my dad always played bad cop—the guy practically raised me—I don’t think he’s capable.”

“I’m just presenting you the facts, Leo.” Greg’s tone was defensive. He was probably used to clients in denial turning on him. “DA is getting an arrest warrant as we speak. The case seems pretty straightforward.”

“I never got any kind of vibe from either of them—that there would be anything—and William isn’t a philanderer. He’s been happily married for almost forty years.”

“Kid”—Greg leaned forward—“I’m not familiar with the guy, but you know better than most that you can’t know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Leo sighed.

“But that’s not all I found.” Greg seemed nervous as he pulled a file from his backpack. “I was able to get a copy of your mother’s police report.” He slid the file on the coffee table in front of Leo.

“You should take a look—I removed the pictures, but if you want them, let me know,” Greg said.

“No.” Leo shook his head. “I don’t think I could…”

“There are interview transcripts with the people that knew her—were close to her around her death.”

“Anything suspicious? Anything that stood out?” Leo rested his hand on top of the folder, too nervous to open it.

“Everyone except for your aunt was surprised about her method of death,” he replied.

Leo looked up at Greg, waiting for more information.

“George wasn’t around much, though he did admit that they’d drifted a bit, and that they’d been fighting about how much he worked. He said your mom wanted him to spend more time with you.”

The interview corroborated what I’d learned from the journal, although Christine hadn’t mentioned any fights, which did prove she was writing in a way that edited her thoughts.

“Margot said she and William were close to Christine, and that Christine had confided in her before that she had suicidal thoughts after she had given birth,” Greg revealed.

“Postpartum depression is common, but it wasn’t talked about as much back then,” I chimed in. “Do we know if Christine ever went to therapy?”

“I’ll look into it,” Greg offered, seemingly disarmed that I had thought of something he hadn’t considered.

“What did William say?” Leo asked.

“Not much. He said that his relationship with your mother was a surface-level friendship due to his business relationship with your father.”

“So who was telling the truth? Margot or William?” I asked.

“The truth usually lies somewhere in between,” Greg offered cryptically.

Leo still seemed shell-shocked.

In the privacy of the library, knowing that Greg had already guessed our secret, I reached out to him, taking his hand in mine. He squeezed back gently, saying thank you with the gesture rather than words.

“There’s one last thing,” Greg said.

Leo’s eyes darted across to him.

“Your dad mentioned an ex-boyfriend of your mother—Jeremy Pruitt. She had a restraining order. He began stalking her when your parents first started dating. Your father was convinced he had something to do with it, but he was in another state on business at the time, so the police dismissed him as a suspect and decided to rule her death a suicide.”

“He never mentioned an ex-boyfriend or stalker—he never even told me he didn’t think she had killed herself…” Leo said dejectedly.

Greg got up from his chair. “I’ll look into the therapist and keep an eye on the nurse’s case,” he promised Leo, giving him a handshake instead of a verbal goodbye. “I’ll see myself out.”

“Thanks, Greg.” Leo stood from his chair and watched the man as he left the library, gently closing the door in his wake. Leo locked it behind him.

Leo sunk back into the chair, his mood dour. I wasn’t sure what he’d expected the private detective to find, but that hadn’t been it.

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“What motive could Uncle William have had to kill Nurse Julie?” Leo finally shattered the library’s quiet. “Let’s say they did have an affair—why kill her now?”

“Because we started asking about her…” I was hesitant to say it out loud, but we both knew it to be true.

“Okay—let’s follow that thread,” Leo tried. I could see him kicking into his own sort of detective mode, the same way he had the night we’d discussed his father’s death—he was disassociating. “What could she know—or say—today that she wouldn’t have said before?”

“If they were in it together—the nurse didn’t have a motive to kill George, but if they were having an affair, maybe he convinced her to do it.” It felt silly to suggest.

Maybe I was in denial with Leo or just wanted him to be right, but I wasn’t sure I believed William was responsible for any of it—the truth, however, was that I didn’t know him.

Leo certainly knew him better, but all parents keep secrets from their children. William had been a father figure to Leo, so of course he would have kept the sordid details of his personal life from his adopted son.

“So what does Julie get out of it? She was still with her husband when she died.” Leo was getting upset, but I knew his anger wasn’t directed at me.

“Maybe money?” I tried. “I’m on your side, Leo. I don’t think William did this, but if the cops have evidence he was at her house—”

“What if he went there because he knew I was looking for her? Maybe he was trying to get her to talk to us.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

Leo’s shoulders slumped as he hunched in the chair, completely out of sorts. “And I don’t know what to make of my mom’s file. I didn’t know that Margot and my mom were so close—and I’ve never heard of this Jeremy Pruitt guy—but I’m not surprised that Dad never mentioned anything. We never talked about Mom’s death.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, placing a hand on his knee.

Leo moved to take my hand in his when a knock at the library door shocked the two of us apart.

Concerned, Leo bolted to the door and opened it to find his Aunt Margot.

“Why on earth did you lock the door?” She laughed, then saw me, and her face dropped for a moment before a grin replaced her surprise. “Hello, dear.” She beamed. “I saw your work upstairs—fabulous job.”

“Thank you, Margot.” I smiled politely.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Leo gave his aunt a hug. While in her embrace, his eyes met mine, then nervously darted down to the file folder on the coffee table.

I swiftly grabbed the papers and sat on them.

“I was worried I’ve been absent too long with all the planning for the gala—I’ve barely seen you in the last few weeks, so I thought I’d stop by.” Margot set to correcting Leo’s lapels, which had been rumpled during their hug.

“It’s alright,” Leo told her. “Is everything going okay?”

“Oh you know—planning these things should be straightforward, but they never are.” Margot turned to address me.

I hoped my face wasn’t beet red, knowing I was intentionally hiding something from her in plain sight.

“Will you be joining us on Saturday evening?” Margot asked.

“I—uhh.” I looked past Margot to Leo. “I didn’t know I was invited.”

Margot’s laugh tinkled through the room. “Of course, darling, any friend of Leo’s is invited, and I’ve got a few more people who are interested in hiring you—it will be a good time to meet them. Get this business of yours started.”

Leo raised a brow at her last comment. “We’ll see, Aunt Margot,” he stepped in, saving me.

“I need to know by the end of day tomorrow to finalize the seating chart,” she told him pointedly.

“I promise.”

“Now that I’ll have an extra seat, what with William no longer attending—”

“Why?” Leo asked.

“You haven’t heard?” Margot’s eyes bulged. She was in her element spreading gossip. I had thought that she and William were friendly, but his change in fortune allowed for a break in standard protocol.

Leo shook his head. Of course he had an inkling of what was going on, but he didn’t want to explain how or why to Margot.

“Sweetheart”—she cupped his cheek with her palm—“he was arrested this afternoon. They think he murdered your father’s nurse.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Leo’s reaction was genuine.

“He’ll probably be able to get out on bail. They won’t make him stay in jail, if that’s what you mean,” Margot replied solemnly.

Leo stepped back. “I heard she died, but I thought it was a botched robbery.”

“They’d been having an affair,” Margot revealed. “I knew about it while she was here, but it wasn’t my place—poor Alicia.” Margot turned to me. “Alicia is William’s wife.”

I nodded in understanding.

“William’s always been a bit of a playboy—going after women that were married for sport. Of course George never liked it, but there was too much history—too much money at stake. So he let it slide.” She sighed.

“I think Alicia’s always known—perhaps they have an agreement, one of those things they just didn’t discuss as long as he paid the bills and didn’t let things go public. He used to be more discreet, but maybe he’s losing his touch in his old age.”

“William always seemed so devoted to his wife,” Leo disagreed.

“Appearances, Leo—they’re so important in our circles. You saw exactly what they wanted you to see.”

Margot paused suddenly, spotting something on the desk. She stepped over to examine it. “I haven’t seen this in a while.” She pointed.

I stayed put, not wanting to expose the file folder beneath me.

Leo joined her at the desk. “Oh, I saw it in one of the books while we were cataloging them.”

Leo raised the notepad, where I had written the XXXX symbol I’d found in Christine’s journal. My eyes widened involuntarily.

“You know what it is?” Leo said, trying to keep the earnestness from his voice, but failing miserably.

“Oh sure—they’re William’s initials—he talked about using it as the logo for his company when we were growing up, but then when he and George went into business together, they had to pick a name that represented both of them,” Margot replied matter-of-factly.

“It’s a W and an M overlapping.” She took the pen from the desk, and I watched from afar as she showed Leo how they were written to form what I had previously thought were the consecutive “X’s.”

“Huh…” Leo stared down at the paper.

“Shame on him for writing in one of these books though—must have done it when we were children,” Margot scolded.

“Anyway, I’d better get going.” Margot began the trek across the room. “Leo, let me know when you are free for lunch next week—I’d love to catch up.”

“Of course,” he acquiesced.

“And do let me know if you’ll be joining us at the gala.” Margot turned her attention to me.

I nodded in agreement.

“I’ll walk you out.” Leo held the door open for his aunt.

“Thank you, dear.” She smiled up at him. “Good afternoon, Penny.”

I gave her a small wave, before releasing a long exhale the moment she was out of earshot.

Leo returned a few moments later, still out of sorts.

“Can you hide the folder in my room?” he asked, looking down at the papers I clutched to my chest. I couldn’t lose it like I had lost the journal.

“Sure.”

“And we’re going to talk about this business of yours when I get back,” he threatened.

“There is no business—I keep telling her that. I don’t know a thing about how to run a company. I’m just a designer.” My brow furrowed as he turned on his heel to leave. “Wait—where are you going?”

“I need to go down to the station and see if I can bail out William—I have to talk to him,” Leo said hurriedly.

“I can go with you—”

“No,” he said bluntly, then took a deep breath and adjusted his tone. “Please stay here. I’ll keep you updated. My phone is fully charged,” he promised.

“Be safe,” I said, but he was already down the hall.

Waiting for Leo to return was a bit nerve-wracking. It felt like things were going off the rails, and we were helpless to stop them. I knew Leo probably felt even more out of control than I did.

Danny was hesitant to leave for the day, sensing something wasn’t right, but I assured him I would be okay and again found myself alone in the house as the sun set. Tendrils of darkness encroached upon the main floor, which I fought against by turning on as many lights as I could find.

Not wanting to bother Leo, I resolved not to text him asking for an update, knowing if he had one, he would contact me. As the minutes ticked by, and he still hadn’t returned, I decided to keep myself distracted by attempting to make dinner. I wasn’t a terrible cook, but I certainly wasn’t as skilled or remotely as passionate as Leo was when it came to the kitchen.

I opted for a simple dinner of roasted carrots and braised chicken. Leo had shown me how to make it only a week before. My attempt wasn’t as good as his, but it was passable.

With impeccable timing, Leo arrived just as I was pulling the carrots from the oven.

“You made dinner…” His tone was grateful, but his appearance betrayed him, showing his exhaustion as he approached me in the kitchen.

“It’s not as good as—”

Before I could say “yours,” Leo wrapped me up in a tight hug.

“You made dinner…” he whispered into my hair, refusing to let me go.

But I didn’t mind, and I gladly returned the embrace.

“Are you okay?” I pulled back slightly, brushing some stray hair from his eyes. “Is William okay?”

Leo nodded, finally releasing me from his hold.

“His lawyer wouldn’t let me talk to him, but they’re processing his release on bail.” Leo slumped into one of the barstools.

“That’s good, right?” I pulled the chicken from the burner before removing a wineglass from the dishwasher and giving Leo a generous pour of red wine.

“It’s something…” He sighed after taking a long pull from the glass.

“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” He wasn’t obligated to keep me informed of every small detail, especially since he was swimming in so much uncertainty; the stress was written all over his face.

“You sure?” he asked, grateful for the reprieve.

I smiled, nodding. “I’m here, whatever you want to talk about—or not talk about.”

Taking me up on my invitation, dinner was a quiet affair, but Leo made sure I knew how thankful he was for my efforts, despite my perceived shortcomings. I would have thought it was the best meal he’d ever had, if I hadn’t eaten every dish he’d served me before.

But after dinner, when we’d usually retire to the couch to continue talking over a glass of wine, Leo caught me off guard when he asked if we could instead lie down in the room.

“I’m just tired…” he breathed, his voice unable to hide the depth of truth in his statement.

That first night, lying together in his bed, a moment which I had been thinking of since the first night I’d spent alone there, didn’t play out the way I had expected, but perhaps just snuggling and falling asleep was exactly what I needed.

Despite his insomnia, Leo easily fell asleep in my arms.