“Well, it isn’t public knowledge yet, but Cooper and I are pretty sure it was Alain Metcalf,” Jamie said. To Serena, she added, “I thought you didn’t wake up.”
“We both woke up,” Teddy admitted. “We just didn’t tell anybody.”
Jamie blinked at him. “Why not?”
Before Teddy could respond, Serena answered, “We didn’t want anyone to know Dad did it.”
* * *
Phil Kearns scoffed at his wife. “Fine. Go ahead. Make up stories. I’m putting my money on Eric Volker.”
Bette glared daggers at him. “You always belittle me.”
Cooper pointed out, “A man could look in a mirror, too.”
“Yeah, but there was something about it,” she said. “That’s all I’m saying. You’re the investigator. You figure it out. I just don’t want her coming back to get me, so start looking for a woman.”
* * *
“I saw Dad,” Serena said. “He had on a ski mask. He stabbed at her and she fell and he ran away.”
“I heard Serena scream,” Teddy said, frowning at his sister. “I came out and she was standing there, white-faced, over Emma’s body.”
“And you never told . . . ?” Jamie asked.
“Serena bent down and came up with the knife. I yelled at her and she dropped it and ran back to the bedroom. She said Dad did it. Killed Emma. I believed her. Emma was different than you. I knew it even then. She was older, sexy, brash . . . I knew she was more Dad’s type, and that was maybe why he killed her. I was sick with relief to hear she was okay. Only she wasn’t. Not really.”
Jamie just stared at him.
“I grabbed the knife and hid it inside the secret drawer of the coffee table,” Teddy said.
Jamie’s gaze moved to the coffee table.
Turning to look at Serena, Teddy said, “Only it wasn’t Dad. He was still at the charity event. We just didn’t know it. Serena wanted to tell, but I wouldn’t let her.”
Serena was looking off into space. “No, you wouldn’t let me.”
“Serena’s had some trouble making serious attachments ever since. . . .” Teddy didn’t take his eyes off her.
Serena’s gaze dropped to the coffee table. “Do you think it’s still there?”
Teddy glanced down, and Jamie’s eyes followed as well. To Jamie’s shock, he bent down to the table, slipped his hand underneath. After several seconds of him fumbling beneath it, a shallow drawer slid outward. Inside was a knife with rust-colored flecks of what looked like dried blood on the blade.
“My God,” Jamie whispered.
“I’ve wanted to tell you so many times,” Teddy said. “I just didn’t know if I should. But you say now that it was Dr. Metcalf?”
“We have to take that . . . we have to get it to the police . . .” Jamie stammered.
“They’ll arrest Dad,” Serena said.
“No, they won’t.” Teddy was adamant. “You know it wasn’t Dad. It was Emma’s lover!”
Serena’s eyes slid toward the kitchen. “I heard her talking to him on the phone. I tiptoed to the hall door and looked out through the crack. She was pacing around. Upset. She was on the wall phone yelling at Dad, and he was yelling at her, too. I could hear his voice. They were having an affair. He was trying to get away from her, but Emma wouldn’t let him go. She said she was going to tell. She said, ‘What’ll Nadine think of you then?’ Then her other lover came in and wanted her to give him up, and she yelled at him, too. She screamed at him that she was going to marry Dad.”
“It wasn’t Dad!” Teddy moaned. “Jesus, Serena. Get a grip.”
“That . . . that was Dug . . . Patrick Douglas . . .” Jamie said. “He wasn’t Emma’s lover.”
Serena slowly wagged her head from side to side. “That’s not true.”
Teddy said quietly, “I stay close to Serena because reality is difficult for her sometimes.”
Serena glared at him. Then she bent down and picked up the knife from its bed inside the secret drawer. Both Jamie and Teddy stared at her with real concern.
“Put that down,” Jamie ordered.
“What are you doing?” Teddy asked, aghast as Serena lifted the knife above her head. Teddy thrust out his hands in front of himself. “Stop,” he whispered, stepping toward her.
To Jamie’s horror, Serena suddenly thrust downward, slicing into one of Teddy’s outstretched hands.
* * *
Cooper left the Kearns’ home and drove back into town, his head full of questions. Did he believe Bette? It was possible. But it was a hunch more than a fact. But it was also a hunch that had led him to Alain Metcalf.
His phone rang, and he saw it was Howie. “Did the Winkelmans connect with you again?” Howie asked. “They called the station. Said they needed to talk to you. I meant to tell you and forgot till now. You’re probably out partying.”
“I’m not partying and I haven’t heard from the Winkelmans.”
“They’re convinced their daughter’s suicide note is a fake. They say the ‘S’ is hers, but the body of the text is someone else’s handwriting. I figured we’d send it to a handwriting expert and put the matter to rest. The Winkelmans wanted you to call them. Were pretty insistent about it. That’s why I wondered if you’d talked to them.”
“Okay, I’ll call them tomorrow,” he said, then clicked off.
An “s.” A capital “S.” Had Gwen been trying to write something other than “Sorry”?
* * *
“You’re all lying to me!” Serena cried. “I know what I saw. Dad was there. He was mad at Emma. He chased her into the living room!”
“That was Dr. Metcalf,” Jamie said again.
“No! No!” She violently shook her head. “I’m not crazy!”
Teddy held one hand with the other. Blood ran in rivulets down his arm. “No one thinks you’re crazy.”
“Gwen did. I went to her for help, but she looked at me in that way. And then that babysitter . . .” She stopped for a moment, fighting emotion. “She
