“Was the intent to kill my mother?” I whisper.
“No. It was a lot more sinister. Robert was trying to scare Deborah off. He had a deal to get a sizable cut from the county if Deborah agreed to sell her farm. And with over fifty acres, he was going to make a pretty penny.”
“But why would Robert want to harm my mother?” I shake my head. “She never did anything to him. He was the one helping her leave Jonathan. Why would he want to hurt her now?”
“From everything we’ve gathered, Robert didn’t forgive your mother for the loss of his wife, Cindy. He lost Cindy and Edward around the same time.” The detective shrugs. “He never got over losing his wife because he tried to save Deborah, as painful as that sounds.
“The other big reason is as simple and complicated as money.” The detective scowls. “Alice blackmailed him and told him if he didn’t help with her plan, she’d come forward with information about that night, incriminating him. Plus, she knew he had stolen from the police officers’ union and was aware of kickbacks he was getting from the prison.”
“So it wasn’t Fletch that stole from the union,” I groan. “Robert made his son pay the price?”
“Yes.” The detective adds, “Robert was about to lose their farm, and as the police chief, he could protect Fletch in some ways. He promised him the chief position after he retired for taking the heat.”
“Even with a damaged reputation, Miles thought he could overcome that?”
“With all the politics involved, yes. The chief had enough people in place and connections that the speculation would die down.” Detective Paulson adds, “It became old news about the coffers being empty.”
“Was the chief behind the push for eminent domain to take over the farm?”
“One hundred percent. He was set to get a ‘fee’ for the transaction if Deborah agreed to their terms. We found out Robert even forged both Deborah’s name and Miles’s on a real estate purchase in Florida.”
“And the gun I turned in never went to the lab?”
“No. It was shoved in a locked drawer at the chief’s home. His prints are on it.” Detective Paulson coughs. “We also found the rifle used in your mother’s attack. We believe it was Alice, not Robert, who was the perpetrator that night.”
I’m curious to know the detective’s thoughts on Jonathan. “Do you believe his death was accidental?”
“At this time, yes. By all accounts, Robert had no reason to kill Jonathan. Was he a wife beater who would have been arrested at some point for domestic violence? Most likely, but this is a tragedy, a rare, sad, one-in-a-million tragedy.” The detective narrows his eyes. “After Alice pushed Jonathan, it injured him enough he wouldn’t have lived through the hospital ride.”
“Speaking of the hospital”—I grip Holden’s hand in mine—“how did you figure out what happened to my mother?”
“Deborah could barely sit up in the interrogation room. Thank God a nurse noticed puncture marks in her vein.” Brian continues, “She’d been heavily sedated and drugged. And you can thank Miles Fletcher for coming forward—he had a bout of guilt that reared its ugly head and said his dad and Alice forced him to help drag her to the barn and start the fire.”
“But he didn’t try to save me . . .”
I shake my head. At this point, I don’t even know the real from the fake.
“Was Fletch,” I begin, and Brian narrows his eyes, not recognizing the nickname, “I mean Miles—was he complicit in this?”
“We don’t have proof of his involvement with your mother. He did know about his father’s debts and the missing funds, but obviously, we’ll keep investigating. Apparently, he had shown up at Deborah’s house unexpectedly, not planning on Alice showing up.”
“So it’s true Robert Fletcher never dated my mother?”
“Only to gather information.” Brian tilts his head, side to side. “He wanted everyone to think Deborah was losing her mind, so he made sure they were never seen together. Except we got a report they were caught on camera at a grocery store, some twenty-plus miles away. Unfortunately, the camera outside of the house is a dummy one, so we can’t check the visitors who have come and gone. The chief was able to pretend it alerted the station because Deborah would always call him when there was a problem. It was there only to further convince Deborah she was losing her grip on reality.”
“Are there any ties between Alice and Robert and a man Deborah saw sitting in the house?”
“Look, Sibley, I’ll be blunt, and the doctor at the hospital can provide further insight. The types and dosage of pills she was taking—it’s . . . a lot. Visual and auditory hallucinations are not abnormal side effects. There’s no telling if it was real or imagined.” Detective Paulson grimaces. “It’s complicated by the fact Alice played a psychological cat-and-mouse game with your mother intentionally. Your mother is a high-functioning woman, and it’s impossible to know if the side effects she experienced were part of the medication or psychosis or if they were because someone was actually there. Case in point, Alice pushing her down the stairs. I have no doubt Alice was the ‘figment of her imagination’ she saw.”
“This is all so—there’s no other word for it—fucked up.” I bite my lip, drawing blood. “I can’t believe someone could be so cruel.” My lip quivers. “And that I almost fell for it. I thought my own mother would want to harm me.”
Holden squeezes my shoulder. “She’s in good hands now, Sib, and so are you.”
“So when can we see her?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as
