AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What about Janice Davies?” I question. “Did you go to her, too?”
She shakes her head and sniffles. Then she changes her mind and nods. “I went searching. I sat down with her at a coffee shop once.”
“You met with her?” My brows jump.Because she didn’t mention that shit to us.“You’ve met Janice?”
“No. I sat down beside her. We didn’t exchange names or anything. We just happened to be sitting at tables beside each other. I struck up a conversation, and mentioned my kids. It’s what women do, ya know?” She mops her cheeks with her tissues and sniffs. “Moms gush.”
“But Janice doesn’t have kids,” Fletch concludes. “So you walked away, knowing no children were at risk there.”
She nods and slowly, shakily, comes back to sit down. Her entire body is beaten. Her shoulders slumping, and her eyes, close to dead. “I walked away. I got my daughter in to speak to a therapist, but I had no clue how that could possibly help if she wasn’t even aware of who Grayson was. I was in this endless cycle of disgust and terror, not knowing whether to tell my baby or not. The truth will destroy her forever. Especially since she… especially…” she chokes on her breath, unable to say it.
“They slept together?” Fletch supplies. “Did your daughter and Grayson have sex?”
She bursts out with pained sobs and presses her palms to her eyes. But she nods. Heartbreaking and devastating.
“Lauren tells me everything. Everything. So when her and her boyfriend had sex, she came home and shyly told me. We talked about protection, and babies, and all of the sensible stuff. I thanked her for telling me, and made sure it was a positive experience, because I didn’t want to betray my daughter’s trust. Then…” She gulps in fresh air and cries. “Then I asked to meet him. Since he was so important in her life, I asked to meet him.”
“And by that point,” Fletch inserts, “The deed had already been done. You met him, and everything clicked into place.”
“I was so angry,” she growls. “I was infuriated. This isn’t about him being a cheat, Detectives. This isn’t about my hurt feelings, or the fact my marriage was a sham. This is about two children’s lives being utterly destroyed if they ever find out what they’ve done.”
“So you killed him?” I confirm. “You tied him to a dining chair, and you made him pay for what he did to them.”
“Why did you torture him?” Fletch sits forward at the table and studies her. “I can understand wanting to kick him in the nuts. I can understand wanting to knock his teeth out in a fit of rage. But why pluck his teeth out one by one? Why the eyes? Why the tongue?”
“Because I had no clue how many more families he’d made,” she murmurs. “How many lives would be ruined by his need to be a spy. Aspy!” she spits out. “He was an overweight, middle-aged, cheatingnobodywho sold real estate sometimes. But a freak science experiment in high school took his fingerprints and made him think he could be something special. He had skill with a computer, and a need to be secretive.”
She lowers her hands and fists them in rage. “Most cheating jerks do so under their own name. So when they create kids, everyone knows about everyone. No one is happy, but at least they know! But Kyle thought he was clever enough to create all these lives and get away with it. He didn’t care about the mess he made; he didn’t care that his daughter from one relationship met his son from another and, because of his own dishonesty, crossed a terrible line.
“Kyle’s selfishness has ruined the lives of the children he swore he adored,” she snarls. “So I made him hurt for it. I made him tell me every name he used, and every family he’d created. I made him apologize for everything he’d done, and I made himcry,” she seethes. “I tortured him, and I interrogated him. I let him feel what a spy might’ve felt, since that was obviouslysoimportant to him. Then he died, and I just…” she stops now, and swallows. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“Your financial records show you rented a van five days ago,” I tell her. “Did you think no one would notice?”
“I don’t…” She closes her eyes and sighs. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t.” She opens them again and meets mine. “By that point, I was justdoing.”
“And the storage unit?” Fletch pulls bank statements from his file and sets them on the table between us. “Why did you rent a storage unit, Diane? What did you put in there?”
“My dining room table and chairs.” She blows her nose and studies her tissue. “I needed to get them out of my house and put away somewhere.” Bringing her gaze up, she looks from me to Fletch, and nibbles on her bottom lip, defeated. “I guess it’s time for you to arrest me, huh?”
“Yeah.” But I straighten papers, close our folders, and remain seated. Because sometimes I feel righteous and vindicated when I solve a crime. Other times, I can place myself squarely in the shoes of the killer and know I’d have done the same.
“We haven’t gone on the record yet,” I remind her. “You can call your lawyer before we do.”
“Can I call my sister?” She swipes the tears from her cheeks, and sniffles. “She’ll need to take care of my kids.”
“We’ll help you get that organized.” Fletch pushes to his feet and reaches back for his cuffs. “Diane Andrews,” he sighs. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Kyle Andrews AKA Roger Wilson AKA Aaron Davies AKA Gordon Pickford AKA Benedict McArthur.”
Slowly, he wanders around to her side of the table and waits for her to stand. When she does he continues, “You have the right to an attorney. You have the right to close your mouth andsay nothing else.”
“I’m not sorry for what I did,” she declares anyway. “But I am sorry I have to leave my babies behind.”
“I’m sorry for that, too.” He wraps one cuff around her wrist and clips it into place. “I’ve got my own unfortunate situation with an ex-wife and a little girl, Diane. There are a million things I wish I could say or do to make it better. But at the core of every choice I make,” he slips the second cuff on and slowly,click, click, clicksit into place. “I have to know I’ll go home to my daughter. She needs me. She needs me to be in her life every single day. So I make sure that happens.”
Diane bobs her head. “If I’d slowed down and thought all this through a little better, maybe I’d be a free woman and still able to take care of my babies.” She peers over her shoulder and meets Fletch’s eyes. “Lauren will need me to help her through.”
“Talk to your lawyer,” he instructs. “Discuss some kind of momentary psychotic break. This man was a threat to your child’s safety and well-being.” He pauses, his lips taking on a wry twist. “We’ve lost weaker cases to good lawyers. You just have to find the right guy to represent you.”
MINKA
