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A Willing Murder Page 19
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“I broke then. I drove away and cried for days. It was like there was no justice in the world. She got everything and I was to get nothing? That wasn’t right.”
“What did you do?” Jack asked.
She smiled at him. “I drove over to where Roy Wyatt was working on cars. With a whole lot of tears, I told him that I’d seen Cheryl Morris giving his eleven-year-old son a blow job.”
The only sound was the sharp, angry intake of breath, but Gena didn’t seem to notice.
“Of course, I didn’t use those words. I just described the deed to your dad. And I asked him why Cheryl was doing such a thing to a little boy. Was it a cure for some illness?”
Gena was laughing at her own cleverness. “Your dad, for all that he screwed half the women in town, fell for it. He kissed me on the forehead and told me he’d take care of it all.”
Gena stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. “And from what I heard, he did take care of it. What a man he was! He yelled at that bitch Cheryl, then he told old Captain Edison everything. I don’t think he believed Roy, because the sheriff had me personally tell it all over again. I was a great actress. I acted wide-eyed innocent and described pants down around ankles and lipstick and... You get the idea.”
She looked at Sara. “You write those books, don’t you? I oughta tell you my life story, you write it, then we’ll share the money. I bet it’d make millions. I could tell you lots about my second husband.”
Sara’s voice was low. “There’s enough hate in the world. I don’t need to add to it.”
“Oh, well. You’re probably so rich that you don’t need more money. And why help someone else?” Gena paused, waiting to see if Sara would change her mind, but she was silent. “So anyway, I begged the sheriff to keep my name out of it. I told him I’d been traumatized by what I’d seen and I didn’t want anybody to know. He was a nice old man and he said he understood.”
When the three of them remained silent, Gena seemed to at last see the anger in their eyes. “Look, if you think I had anything to do with that murder, you’re wrong. All I did was give payback for what she’d done to me. It was a high-school prank. Nothing serious. Besides, right after that, I left for college. But then I found out I was pregnant, so I had to drop out. I married that no-good bastard Dane and I—” She shrugged. “But you don’t care about what happened to me, do you? Only to that Morris girl. If you ask me, she got what she deserved. She asked for it. She—”
“Who else did you see at Cheryl’s house?” Kate asked loudly. “Who else visited?”
“Arthur Niederman. I saw him there several times. But I think he went there for the mother—if you know what I mean.”
“Who was Cheryl’s boyfriend?” Sara’s teeth were clenched.
“The only one I saw is baby boy here. And who knows what they did when I wasn’t there? Maybe I guessed the truth.”
When Jack made a movement, Sara and Kate each grabbed an arm in case he decided to leap on her.
“Did you see anyone else?” Kate asked. “Anybody at all? Male or female? Young or old?”
Gena’s wrinkled face seemed to drain of color. “You think I saw the murderer, don’t you?” She stood up. “If he’s watching you guys, he’ll connect you to me. Get out! Get out! Now! Go!”
They hurried out the door, Jack’s crutches catching on a torn piece of carpet, but Sara halted. “On the night you went out with the Olsen kid, the ‘champagne’ you had was actually apple juice. And Elaine did not sleep with Jim. He was honorable and went back to you. But you broke up with him. Nobody has been at fault for your rotten life but you.” Sara stepped outside.
With a sneer, Gena slammed the door.
When they got to the car, Sara took over. “You!” she said to Jack. “Get in the back. I’m driving.”
He didn’t protest. He handed Kate his crutches and she put them in the back.
Jack climbed into the rear seat, and Kate took the front passenger. Sara quickly turned the dial on the GPS to direct them through the labyrinth of Miami to get them home.
She handed her cell to Kate. “Send a text to Gil to come over with full padding. He needs to get rid of some energy.”
She didn’t have to say who “he” was. Kate glanced over the seat at Jack. He looked like a cross between a volcano about to erupt and a man who was going to sink into a depression and never come out of it.
Kate sent the message and they went home.
FIFTEEN
Kate was sitting on a stool in the kitchen and she looked at the clock. Again. “How long have they been at it?”
“Two hours and ten minutes,” Sara said. “Neither of them can take much more.”
Behind them, coming through the open doors, was the pounding sound that Kate was beginning to recognize: leather hitting leather. Since they’d returned from Gena’s house, Jack and Gil had been boxing. Or rather, Gil held the hand pads while Jack hit them.
For a while, Kate had watched them, but the anger on Jack’s face had been too much for her. She remembered Sara saying that Jack’s fights with his father had been sick making. Scary. Kate could believe it.
She’d left the men and gone to her bedroom to have a long telephone chat with her mother. She heavily sugarcoated it all. Yes, everything was fine. Yes, she was working, had already sold a house. Yes, she was still seeing Alastair Stewart. Nothing serious yet, but maybe. No, Sara hadn’t thrown one of her temper tantrums. Yes, Kate had been thinking about moving into her own place.
After she got off the phone, Kate took a shower and left her rooms. Jack was still pounding away or clunking about on the stone pavers in his cast.
“Gil will make him stop,” Sara said. “And it’s not all boxing.”
Kate had seen that Gil was ordering Jack to do sit-ups, push-ups, hobble fast on his crutches. Anything to burn off the energy from what he’d heard.
Abruptly, there was quiet, and moments later, Gil walked through the house. He was sweaty and exhausted. He started to speak but then shrugged and went out the front door.
Jack came behind him, wearing only baggy shorts and his cast. His entire body was dripping sweat. It was cascading off him.
Sara handed him a tall glass of water, which Jack drained. She refilled the glass from the refrigerator door and he drank that one. Halfway through the third glass, he sat down on the stool beside Kate.
The women looked at him.
“Roy really did think he was protecting me,” he said.
“That’s what all this—” Sara motioned to his sweaty upper half “—was about?”
He finished the third glass of water. “Naw. This is about Gena. But I’ve been thinking about Roy. Any more of that fruit left?”
Kate got up and began preparing a plate for him. Anybody who’d heard what he had today deserved to be waited on. “Cheryl wanted respect. That’s what came through to me. She knew what people thought of her mother, so she was determined to get their respect.” She pushed a plateful of orange segments to Jack.
“And she had a boyfriend,” Sara said. She put a fat towel over Jack’s head and began to rub his hair dry.
It was such a loving, mother-son gesture that for a moment, Kate looked away.
“But Roy...” Jack trailed off.
“Was protecting you.” Kate started peeling a mango. “Maybe he ran over your bike to force you to stay away from a girl he thought was introducing you to too much, too soon.”
“Yeah.” Jack was smiling, his mouth full.
Kate glanced at Sara. It was nice to hear him say something good about his father.
“Respect,” Sara said. “What Cheryl said to Elaine interested me. She couldn’t leave Lachlan because if she didn’t earn respect here—in this town—it didn’t matter. Why do you think that was?”
Kate was eating a mango slice and Jack had a banana.
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