One Perfect Morning Page 26

  It was right before Aria got home from school – she had insisted on going, if only for a respite from crying on the sofa all day – shortly after three o’clock when my cell phone rang. I recognized the number immediately and hesitated to answer.

  ‘Hi, Detective Rossi.’ My voice was shaky. At this point every call brought more bad news, and I dreaded what today’s would be.

  He was curt. ‘I need you and Aria to come down to the station. As soon as possible.’

  At this point we had been there so much it was starting to feel like a second home.

  ‘Can you tell me what you want to speak about?’

  ‘We’ll discuss it when you get here.’ He hung up, and I wondered if that was code for be prepared to get officially arrested.

  The detective knew exactly what he was doing. Making me sweat, leaving me wondering, hoping one of us would confess so he could get his A-plus gold star for a job well done. I wouldn’t make it easier on him. I’d show up prepared for anything.

  When Aria walked through the door and dropped her book bag on the table, I patted the unmade bed for her to join me. She pushed aside a heap of rumpled sheets and clothes and sat.

  ‘Aria, the police want us to come back for more questioning, but we need to be prepared for whatever they ask. Do you understand?’

  She nodded wordlessly.

  ‘I need to know what that “pot”’ – I air-quoted the word, because now we both knew the truth – ‘in your drawer was all about. Why did you have foxglove, and what did you use it for?’ I didn’t want to jump to the conclusion that she had used it to kill her father, but what other conclusion was there? I needed to get ahead of this, and the only way I could do that was if I knew the truth – every awful, heartbreaking piece of it.

  ‘It was for an experiment.’ Aria picked at her cuticle, avoiding my eyes.

  ‘You expect me to believe that? Where did you get it?’

  ‘Ryan gave it to me.’ Oh, things sure had a way of coming full circle. ‘But I swear I didn’t use it on Dad.’

  I would have let her lie her way through it if her life wasn’t hanging in the balance.

  ‘Honey, I need you to be honest with me. That’s the only way I can save you. They think you killed your dad with it. Did you? Because if you did, I’ll say it was me. I’ll take the blame. I just need to know the truth.’ I picked up her hands, cupped them between my own. I needed a connection to her before I lost her.

  ‘No, Mom, I swear! I thought about it – that’s why I got it in the first place, but I couldn’t go through with it. I was just so mad at what Dad was doing to you. The bruises. The control. I know he loved you in his own weird way – and he loved me too, I guess – but I saw what he was doing to you. He was destroying you, Mom. I wanted to stop him.’

  ‘You saw? Why didn’t you say anything to me?’

  ‘I could ask you the same thing. You think I’ve been oblivious all these years? That I don’t see how he hurt you day after day? Besides, what could I say that would change anything? You wouldn’t stand up for yourself, and I’m just a kid. I can’t stand up for you. That’s why I wanted him gone, but I knew you would never do anything about it.’ She pulled her hands free and shifted away from me to the other side of the bed. ‘But I didn’t end up doing anything about it either. I guess that makes us both cowards.’

  ‘No, Aria, we’re not cowards. We were never weak. It’s just that when you love someone, you hope they’ll change. Every morning you think maybe today they’ll be better. Maybe today they’ll be the person you know they can be. Your father wasn’t always the way you remember. He used to be a good man – a little rough around the edges, but he always wanted to protect others. Even if his version of protection was distorted.’

  I glanced down at my fingernails, chewed and chipped. I remember what changed Owen. How could I ever forget? The night he took a man’s life was the night he gave away his own.

  ‘Then one day he did something long ago that changed him … hardened him. It ate away at him and stole who he was. Controlling me was his way of reining that in, of feeling in charge of his life again. But it doesn’t work that way. The more you pull someone closer, the more you push them away.’

  By the time we reached the station I was utterly exhausted. I collapsed into the metal chair from both mental fatigue and physical malnourishment. I needed to eat something, but my stomach tightened at the thought of food. At least if I ended up in jail I wouldn’t be in there long before I starved to death.

  My mind hadn’t stopped running for three straight days, and I had barely eaten or slept since Saturday afternoon after the fight. I now understood the effectiveness of sleep deprivation interrogation techniques, because I would have said anything just to put my brain at ease and take a long, restful nap.

  Detective Rossi sat down across from us, his glare unreadable. I could never tell if he was pissed off or pleased, or something in between. I imagined his face would crack if he smiled.

  He slapped his usual folder on the table, and the overhead light blinked and buzzed. ‘So, we got the toxicology report back along with a new development in the case.’

  My heart sank like a rock to the ocean floor.

  Chapter 42

  Mackenzie

  TUESDAY AFTERNOON

  Detective Rossi slowly opened the folder like it was a performance. I wasn’t ready for the verdict. I needed more time. More time with Aria. More time with my friends. More time for my life. But I had a feeling my time was up.

  ‘It turns out it wasn’t foxglove that killed your husband, Mrs Fischer. It was cocaine.’

  ‘Cocaine?’

  I actually laughed out loud, because the idea of Owen using cocaine – or any drug for that matter – was truly laughable. He was the most outspoken anti-drug person I had ever met. He’d even done presentations at Aria’s elementary school when she was in second grade. She’d been mortified and got teased for two days straight after Owen performed his little skit dressed like a thug offering drugs to the kids.

  ‘That’s crazy. Owen would never use drugs in a million years. Not even marijuana. He called it a gateway drug and was convinced people became addicts after one hit.’

  The detective leaned back in his chair and its joints squeaked. ‘That’s actually why it killed him – he had no tolerance whatsoever. We believe someone sneaked into the house and spiked his whiskey with it – enough to kill a horse. That amount of cocaine to someone with no tolerance can easily cause a heart attack. I’m shocked he didn’t taste it going down, but he might have already been two sheets to the wind when he was drugged.’

  I wasn’t sure if it was the shocking news or the lack of sustenance, but everything in the room spun around me like a Tilt-A-Whirl. I leaned over, pressing my forehead to my knees as the nausea swilled and heaved.

  ‘Are you okay, Mom?’ Aria’s arm draped across my back, her face next to mine. If I’d had anything in my stomach I’d have projectile vomited.

  ‘I’m okay, honey.’ The lies we tell our children to make them feel safe. ‘I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed right now. I need to catch my breath.’ I sat back up, pushing the queasiness back down in my gut. ‘Do you have any leads on who might have drugged him?’

  ‘We lifted fingerprints from the whiskey bottle as well as from the back door. We think the killer broke into the house while you were out, then spiked Owen’s liquor.’ He fanned several photographs across the table, each one numbered in the corner. One showing sooty fingerprints on the bottle of whiskey Owen usually kept in the liquor cabinet. A picture of the back door where a mess of fingerprints collided. A close-up of the broken windowpane. And various other images from my house.

  ‘And we got a match in the system. A drug addict who’s been arrested quite a few times for possession. Do you know someone by the name of Susan Faust?’

  Faust.

  ‘Oh my God.’ I hadn’t meant for the recognition to slip out so obviously, but there it was.

/>   ‘So you do know Susan. Who is she?’

  I scrambled for an explanation – one that didn’t include Owen’s secret sin, the darkest one of all. No matter how much I wanted out of my marriage, I still loved him. I didn’t want to tarnish his memory. And it certainly wouldn’t look good for me to have been hiding the murder all these years. I wondered if I would go to jail if they found out what I knew. Was I an accomplice? It wasn’t a risk I could take.

  ‘I knew a guy named Geoffrey Faust back in college. Well, knew is an exaggeration. He was more of an acquaintance. Worked at the local pizza shop. But I don’t know a Susan.’

  ‘Susan is Geoffrey’s mother. Any idea why she would want Owen dead?’

  Oh. My. God. I knew exactly why. Time had caught up with Owen. Susan must have figured it out – that her son was dead, that Owen fired the shot that killed him. But how? Only Owen and I knew what he had done … and one other person. A friend of Owen’s whose name I never got. I remembered seeing a man leave in Geoffrey’s car.

  Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. My wise grandmother had often quoted that saying, and how right she was. I was the fly stuck in the web that Owen had spun.

  I didn’t know how to talk my way out of this other than with sheer ignorance. I had promised Owen long ago that I would bury him with that secret. I didn’t want to go back on it now … not after everything I’d done. Not unless it was the only way out.

  ‘No, sir, I don’t know why she would target my husband.’

  ‘One of your neighbors saw a woman fitting her description at your house last Tuesday. Do you recall this?’

  The woman I had seen running from my house and who nearly plowed me over – that must have been Susan.

  ‘Yes, I actually do remember that. I had just gotten home when she was leaving. I thought she might have been selling something or maybe had the wrong house.’

  ‘So you don’t know what your husband and Susan talked about? Because we have her in custody, and she seems to think Owen killed her son. She claims she’s been watching Owen for some time … waiting to confront him about it. That’s why she was there that night.’

  ‘Sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have no idea about any of this. I wasn’t there when they spoke.’

  Detective Rossi collected the pictures, stuffing them into a messy pile. ‘Well, if you think of anything, please let me know. We’d like to close this case as quickly as possible so that your family can have closure and move on.’

  Move on. It sounded unrealistic. I wanted it more than anything – not so much for my sake, but for Aria’s. The poor girl deserved some normalcy after the turbulent week she’d had. The drama with Ryan. The loss of her father. Not to mention the years of watching Owen’s abuse, silenced by fear. How much more could one girl take? Though if she was anything like me, we had thick skin that calloused easily.

  It was time to save my daughter. Owen and I both owed it to her. I had one last ace up my sleeve, a confession that could end this whole investigation, wrapping it with a bloody red bow. Owen’s voicemail, which I hadn’t gotten around to deleting.

  I turned to my daughter. She couldn’t hear this. It was just too much. ‘Aria, could you wait for me in the hallway? I need to talk with the detective privately for a minute.’

  ‘Mom, no. We stick together – we always have. I’m not leaving you.’

  ‘Aria—’ I began, before Detective Rossi cut me off.

  ‘Do you trust your mom, Aria?’ She nodded. ‘Then give us a minute. She’ll be okay.’ The detective pulled out his wallet and handed her a dollar bill. ‘Grab a snack from the vending machine. We’ll be done by the time you get back.’

  Aria hesitantly accepted the cash, then closed the door behind her.

  ‘Go on, Mrs Fischer.’

  ‘I might have something that will help you. I didn’t know what he was talking about when I first heard it, but it’s all starting to make sense now.’ I placed my phone in the center of the table, clicked on the voicemail icon, put it on speaker, and waited. Owen’s voice from beyond the grave filled the austere room.

  ‘Hey, Macky-poo.’ I still hated that nickname. Even dead, Owen managed to push my buttons. ‘I know you’re upset, but I wish you’d come home. I owe you an apology for earlier. And another apology for lying to you. I figure I should just come clean now so that we can get everything out in the open. Then you can decide if you still want to come home or leave me forever.’

  His message was interrupted with a sob, and I faintly heard him crying before he found the words again.

  ‘Remember last week when you asked me about that woman leaving the house? She was Geoffrey’s mom. She knows about … what I did. I guess she had been looking for him – found Nico instead, using his identity. Nico told her everything about that night. I guess the guilt was too much for him. I told her that her son was a sick rapist and that’s why I killed him, to protect every other woman from him. But the truth is I’m no better. I treat you like a whore, not the woman I love. I’m so sorry, Mac. I love you, and I promise to change … if I get that chance. I don’t know if the cops’ll be coming for me, probably Nico too, poor bastard, but I’ll face it like a man. Hell, I’ll face it like you would, because you’re the bravest person I know. And you’ve raised Aria the same. Until my last breath I’ll try to be a better man for you. I’d die for you.’

  Poor Owen. He had no idea how prescient that vow would prove to be.

  Chapter 43

  Aria

  FRIDAY NIGHT

  It had been six days since Aria lost her father, her home, and her identity. She had never been the daughter of a typically dysfunctional family like she thought she was. All along she had been the offspring of a cold-blooded killer.

  The house had finally been cleared by the crime scene unit for them to move back in, so at least things were given the appearance of normalcy again. But it wasn’t home anymore, because home is where the heart is, and there was no heartbeat in this loveless structure.

  Aria lay on her own bed in her own bedroom, as her mother washed dishes downstairs and her friends texted her to see how she was ‘hanging in there.’ It only took six days for the surviving Fischers’ world to move on like nothing had happened.

  Dinner conversation had been stiff tonight as they picked at their chicken teriyaki. Her mom mentioned selling the house, if anyone would buy a murder house, and chatted about getting a job, creating a career for herself. Though Aria knew the truth – her mother had tasted freedom for the first time and it was delicious.

  Sprawled out on her bedspread, she kept a book propped open with her elbows as the story took her captive. Anything was better than being in the present, two doors down the hallway from where her father’s dead body had been found.

  A tap on her window startled her, then another tap. The press had hounded her and her mom for days, yelling questions at them from the curb while video cameras recorded their every move. But by now the media had all trickled away, their bloodhound sense sniffing for a new lead in someone’s devastation.

  Stepping over piles of clothes and shoes on the floor, she made her way to the windowpane, raised the blinds, and glanced out. She pushed open the window with a grunt, though the screen stopped her from leaning out.

  ‘Ryan?’ she called into the darkness. It was the first time she had seen him since that night. The porch light barely illuminated his face enough to identify him, but the Iron Man sweatshirt gave him away. ‘Do you want me to come down?’

  He stepped directly below her window, close enough that he didn’t need to yell up to her. ‘No, this’ll be quick. My mom told me you guys dropped the charges.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I didn’t think it was right to ruin your life over one night. We were both drinking, so … My dad was the one who had filed them actually, not me.’

  He averted his gaze, staring at something far away down the street, then back up at her. ‘Look, I think you should go throu
gh with it.’

  ‘What? Are you kidding?’

  ‘No, this isn’t reverse psychology or anything. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I know maybe this isn’t a good time after all you’ve been through this week, but I wanted you to know I never meant to hurt you. I … I’ve always loved you, Aria, and I want you to do what you feel is right.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel right putting you in jail, Ry.’

  He didn’t speak for a moment, and seeing his face glistening in the light, she realized he was crying. ‘I was wrong. I probably did take advantage of you, and I should take responsibility for that. My mom’s been lecturing me about how men exploit and abuse women. I resisted at first, because I didn’t want to think I had done that to you, but she’s right. Don’t let me off the hook just because you’re afraid. I won’t resent you for it, I swear. I love you, Aria, and I know you’ll do what’s right for you.’

  Aria opened her mouth to protest, but he was gone. He slipped back into the shadows and drifted off down the darkened street. Aria considered his words, his maturity, his willingness to change a world where women were victimized, where her own mother had been emotionally and physically abused, and where Aria had lost her voice in the babel of judgment and shame and fear. The time was ripe to remind the world that women deserved more, that women should never be silenced.

  And the time for men to get away with stealing women’s souls was over.