“Maybe I want to be involved because…I like you.”
He punctuated the confession with a little smile, but her face suddenly looked sad and distressed in the glare of all the lights she’d turned on earlier.
Nash knew he shouldn’t have said anything. You don’t reveal a dead husband’s devious past to a still-grieving widow, then turn around and hit on her. Any moron knew that.
But out on the porch the evening before, something had passed between them. A moment, nothing more, but Nash couldn’t get it out of his head. All night long, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. And when he got the call earlier, he hadn’t been able to get here quick enough, even though there was no good reason for his presence. No reason at all except he’d wanted to see her. He’d wanted to see for himself that she and her son were okay.
It was strange, this fascination he had for Evangeline Theroux. She was very different from the other women who’d passed through his life. She was tough as nails on the outside, but every once in a while, she’d slip up and the chinks in her armor would show.
It was those tiny cracks in her poise that made Nash stop worrying about things like propriety and restraint.
“Do you know anything about the concept of an evil gene?” she asked suddenly.
He was caught off guard by her abrupt question and it took him a moment to catch up. “I know there’s research being done, but no real evidence has been found that a violent gene exists. Why? What does that—as you say—have to do with the price of tea in China?”
“Thirty years ago, a woman named Mary Alice Lemay killed her three young sons because she thought they had inherited the propensity for evil from their father. Their grandfather and uncle had both been convicted on multiple counts of rape and murder, and Mary Alice believed that her husband had followed in their footsteps. She claimed she killed her little boys in order to save their eternal souls from damnation. In other words, she killed them before they had a chance to sin.”
“What’s this woman to do with you?”
“She’s nothing to me. But Paul Courtland’s mother is Mary Alice Lemay’s sister-in-law. I think the blond woman who was following Paul is his cousin. It’s possible that one of Mary Alice’s daughters is systematically exterminating all the remaining male members of the Lemay family.”
“In order to eradicate this evil gene?”
“That’s the theory.”
“Your theory?”
“No. A true-crime writer named Lena Saunders. I talked to her yesterday morning. She claimed she had information regarding Paul Courtland’s killer, so Captain Lapierre sent me over there to take her statement.”
Nash started to point out that she’d been taken off the case, but given the circumstances, he decided to withhold any comment.
“I found out tonight that Lena’s real name is Ruth Lemay. According to Ruth, her younger sister, Rebecca, helped their mother murder at least one of their brothers. And now she’s going after the male family members that are left. But Rebecca tells a different story. She says it was Ruth who assisted their mother in the killings.”
“And now you don’t know which sister to believe.”
“Or if I even believe either one of them.”
“What does your gut tell you?”
“That Lena—Ruth—may have played me. She could be setting her sister up to look guilty. But on the other hand…Rebecca broke into my house. She took my son from his crib and deliberately used him as a shield. I don’t think those are the actions of a rational mind. When I think of what might have happened…” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Thank God, nothing
“Neither can I,” Nash said quietly.
She looked up, stricken. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking about you.”
“I know that.”
But it was true. Letting your child down was not an easy thing to live with.
Nash remembered the day Jamie had been born, holding her for the first time. That soft, sweet-smelling bundle that had charmed him from the moment she opened her little eyes. He’d made so many promises to her and to himself that day, but in the ensuing years, he’d too often put work and his own interests first. He’d failed her as a father and there was no going back and making up for his mistakes. No way to get back all those moments, big and small, that he’d carelessly let slip through his fingers.
And now his twenty-year-old daughter sat in prison for taking the life of someone else’s child.
“I should get going,” he said. “Let you get some sleep.”
“I’m too wired for sleep,” she said. “I know I was rude to you earlier, but I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. It would probably do me good to have someone to talk to.”
“If you’re sure I won’t be in the way.”
Her smile was wan. “You won’t be. I really would like the company.”
“Okay. I’ll stay, then.”
“You want something to drink? Coffee? Dr Pepper?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She waved toward the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
While he waited, Nash picked up a photograph from the coffee table and gave it a casual glance, then a more thorough scrutiny. He was still studying the picture when she came back into the room with her drink.
“Do you have any idea where that might have been taken?” she asked, nodding toward the photo.
“Looks like someplace in the Caribbean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” She took a sip of her drink, then placed the glass on a coaster on the coffee table. “Nathan Mallet’s wife found it in an envelope he’d hidden in their attic, along with a wad of cash and a passport under the name Todd Jamison. She thinks he put it there just in case he had to make a quick getaway.”
“Sounds plausible.”
She nodded. “I can’t help wondering if Johnny had a stash hidden somewhere. Maybe he had a contingency plan, too. One that didn’t include me and the baby.”
Nash didn’t know what to say so he remained silent.
“I still find it hard to believe that he would do something like that. I thought I knew him. We were close, you know? How could I be so blind to what he was doing? There must have been clues and I just didn’t see them. But look at this place.” She waved a hand, encompassing the small, modestly furnished room. “We weren’t exactly living it up. If he was on the take, where did all that money go?”
“Like I said, he probably had an offshore bank account somewhere. If you look through his papers, you might even find an account number.”
“That’s not exactly a pressing concern of mine at the moment.”
“No, I guess not.”
She stared off into space, her face an open book of pain and betrayal, and Nash once again felt the need to wrap his arms around her, bury his face in her soft, sweet-scented hair. He couldn’t do that, of course. Not knowing what he knew.
“I just don’t understand how he could do that to us.” Slowly, she glanced up. “And I can’t help thinking that maybe there’s another shoe waiting to drop.”
Evangeline was banging on Lena Saunders’s door bright and early the next morning. She’d dropped J.D. off at her mother’s house, then called the station to say that she’d be taking a personal day. Lapierre was actually very gracious and understanding, although Evangeline couldn’t help wondering if she’d just gone down a notch or two in
