“So I paid him to be quiet. It was honestly the last thing I needed. And it worked until I figured out you weren’t living with him anymore.” She took another gulp of her martini. “I hired a private investigator to check on you. He discovered you’d run away and were in the process of being adopted by an African American family in New York City. He also told me that things were…difficult for you at your uncle’s house. I had no idea.” She cast her eyes down. “I stopped the payments immediately.
"I know keeping you from Deacon was wrong, but things in our marriage were…precarious, and I was trying to protect myself. I thought you were well cared for."
“What would you have done if you’d known?” I glared at her.
“I don’t know. I suppose I would have…I don’t know.”
“Did you know he had another child with Crystal?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, and I had my answer.
“He’s almost two.”
"Well," she stared off into the distance, and her eyes welled with tears. "That explains a lot."
“What do you mean?” I asked.
This woman was a mess, and I felt guilty asking her to dredge up the most painful parts of her life so I could get information. I felt less guilty after she confessed to keeping me from my biological father, leaving me to rot in my biological uncle's house.
"Five years ago, my husband and I attended his high school's twentieth reunion. I didn't want to go, and I did everything to prevent it, but he was determined. He'd never forgotten about your mother, and I knew he was hoping to see her. Once we got to the reunion—she wasn't there, of course, but she might as well have been. Pretty, popular girl, she was all everyone talked about, or maybe I just recall it that way. I just remember being terrified of him finding out the truth and knowing I'd kept it from him for ten years. After that, he became obsessed. He barely tried to hide it.
"He began taking odd weeklong business trips. Nashville, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, New York. He was searching for her. Then he started going to New York once a month, and I knew that he'd found her. He was making calls to a woman's correctional facility, making large payments to a law firm, something that starts with an H…"
“Hollander and Cameron?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“It was the law firm that represented her.” I didn’t volunteer any more personal information about myself.
"Then he stopped taking business trips, but he was gone a lot. I've seen it happen to my friends. I knew what was going on. Powerful men always have mistresses. Hell, Deacon had plenty. They usually looked like your mother. I never minded. Instead, I encouraged it. It was a relief, honestly. It's one of the prices you pay for the life we live. This time was different, and it was the only time I'd ever felt threatened.
"Sure enough, six months ago, he asked me for a divorce. Informed me, if we're being honest. He told me all about Crystal as if I didn't know already. He said that she wanted to keep their relationship a secret—didn't want us to get divorced—but he was tired of living a lie." She plucked the straw out of her drink to eat the olives.
“He actually tried to convince me he was doing it for me. He said I deserved to be happy. As if casting me aside for a convicted felon who’d left him over twenty years previously while publicly humiliating me was ‘best for me.’” She laughed again and finished the martini with a loud slurp.
“I followed him that night. I just wanted to see what the hell was so special about your mother that she was worth throwing away the decades of the life we built together.
"I saw the accident. Deacon lost control and slammed into a tree. He was still alive when I got to the car. Your mother was already gone. There was no pulse. Her eyes were closed like she was sleeping. Even in death, she was beautiful." She paused for a long time, and her eyes welled with more tears. "You need to know I never had any ill will towards your mother. I would have saved her if I could. It was too late. I don't think she suffered."
My eyes were starting to sting, and I blinked furiously, willing them to dry up. I raised the glass to my lips and took another sip.
“I got Deacon into my car and called my father-in-law. He said he’d take care of it and I got my husband to the hospital. He didn’t make it. They said he had a massive heart attack. I suppose that’s why he lost control of the car.” She shrugged, sniffled, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. She used her sleeve to wipe them away and reached for the second martini. “I didn’t know about the baby.”
“So, Deacon’s father covered up his involvement in the accident and made it look like Crystal crashed her car into a tree?”
"I guess." She shrugged. "He does things like that. Takes care of things… Deacon's last words were about your mother if that means anything."
Dagmar askedme to assist her in getting Mrs. Welles to her bedroom. She was light and frail as I carried her up the stairs and lowered onto her bed. She quietly sobbed as Dagmar removed her shoes and tucked her into bed.
I left the house with a small urn containing a portion of Deacon's ashes and an old shoebox that I knew held the tangible evidence of my biological parents’ love affair, though I couldn't bring myself to open it. I also couldn't bring myself to refuse them when Vanessa Welles offered them to me.
cole
twenty-nine
"What's up, man?"Dev's face was looking back at me from my computer screen.
"What did you find?" I asked in an impatient tone of voice, which I knew Dev would appreciate. He was passionate about solving puzzles and unraveling clues. Chitchat or small talk didn't interest him. He was the only person I knew who could deliver the worst news with a smile on his face.
