True Deceit (Blindsided Book 1) (4 page)

He hadn’t called ahead this time and was pleased to see there was a car parked outside the house. Draining the last of the coffee, he got out of the car and walked up to the house.

“Detective, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Michael said as he opened the door. Unsurprisingly it looked like he hadn’t slept. His eyes were red rimmed and the dark circles under them stood out against his pale skin.

“Good morning, Mr Trent, I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead. Can I come in?”

For the second time in as many days Elliott followed him into his kitchen. “Is your sister-in-law here?”

“No, she’s at home. Do you have more news?”

“I’m afraid I do. Would you like to call her and have her come over?”

Michael shook his head. “No, just tell me. I can tell her later.”

“Okay, well we got the report from the ME this morning and she confirmed it was your wife’s body that we recovered from the car.”

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Michael shook his head as if trying to wake himself from a bad dream. “But you didn’t come over here in person to tell me that, did you?”

“No. I’m sorry, but it looks like it may not have been an accident, it appears that she took her own life.”

“What? What on earth are you talking about?” Michael looked completely shocked. “No, no way. You’ve made a mistake, there is no way Jennifer would kill herself.”

Gently Elliot told him what they knew. “I’m truly sorry but there really is no doubt.” He watched as Michael collapsed into a chair at the table and put his head in his hands. “Would you like me to call your sister-in-law now?” He knew from past experience that it sometimes helped not to be alone.

“No. Please, just leave.”

Elliot reached into his pocket, took out his card and placed it on the table. “Of course. Here is my card. If I can do anything to help or if you have any questions, please just call.”

He turned and left the house, the sound of crying followed him as he closed the door gently.

Michael had no idea how long he’d sat at the table staring into space but the sun had gone from the kitchen window which meant it must be past midday.
Suicide.
The detective hadn’t used the word, obviously trying to spare his feelings, but it was the same thing. His wife had killed herself. He had no idea how to deal with that. It was one thing thinking that she’d been killed in a tragic accident but now the big question spinning around in his head was, why? Was it something he had done? Was it because of their problems? Or was it something else? Something he knew nothing about?

He needed to find out and the one person who could help him figure it out was Sarah.
Oh God, Sarah.
She was going to be devastated.

Picking up the phone he held it and just stared at it, trying to decide what to say. The shrill ring caught him by surprise and the handset flew out of his hand and crashed onto the floor.
Shit.
The back had fallen off but it was still ringing when he picked it up, his heart pounding.

“Hello?”

“Mike? It’s Sarah. I just thought I’d ring and see if you’d heard anything.”

Damn.
He hadn’t had a chance to think about how to tell her yet. “Err…well actually, yes. The detective came round this morning.”

“This
morning!
Were you going to bother ringing me?”

He had to hold the handset away from his ear as she shouted at him down the phone. “Actually I was just about to call you,” He would just have to tell her. “I’m sorry Sarah, they’ve confirmed it was Jennifer in the car.”

Silence. “Sarah? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” He could hear that she was crying. “Did they say anything else? Do they know how it happened?” She sniffed loudly.

If at all possible, this was going to be even harder. “He said it wasn’t an accident,” He took a deep breath, “that she killed herself.”

“What? What the hell are they talking about, of course she didn’t kill herself. Why would you let them say something like that?”

He decided against giving her the details. That could wait until another time when she’d had time to accept the news. “I’m sorry, there doesn’t seem to be any doubt.”

“This is your fault,” She hissed, her words taking him completely by surprise. “You killed her.”

“What?”

“If it wasn’t for you she’d be alive.” She started sobbing. “She must have been so down, so heartbroken to do something like that.” Her voice grew hard again. “And all because of you, because of the way you treated her.”

“Sarah...” He tried to talk but she wasn’t listening.

“I hope you rot in hell, Michael. You killed her. You may as well have been driving that car yourself.”

The dial tone told him that she’d put the phone down and he just stared at the handset, stunned.

Was she right? Was it his fault?
He didn’t think so, Jennifer had seemed to be taking the breakup much better than he, in fact, but had she been? Had it hit her harder than she’d let on?

It was the last straw in an already awful day and he’d had more than he could take. He needed to shut it all out, to find oblivion, and he knew just how to do it.

***

He couldn’t be sure if he was on his fourth or fifth Jack Daniels when the doorbell rang. He ignored it, never lifting his eyes from the glass. He had one thing on his mind and that was to get as drunk as possible and hopefully pass out, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that.

Draining his glass, he reached for the bottle and poured himself another. The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. Getting to his feet he went into the hallway. “Go away!” he shouted loudly at the front door.

“Michael? It’s me, Sarah.”

Oh great.
Just what he needed, another argument.

“Go away Sarah, just leave me alone.” He shouted through the closed door.

“Michael, please let me in. I’m sorry.”

He stared at the door frowning for a minute before unlocking it and flinging it open. “Sorry, huh?” He slurred slightly, the large measures starting to have their desired effect.

“You’re drunk.”

“Not yet, but I will be soon.” He turned and walked back to the kitchen leaving Sarah to close the door and follow him.

“You want one?” Michael waved the bottle in her general direction.

She shrugged. “Yeah, why not. I could use one.”

Getting another glass from the kitchen cupboard, he sat down and poured them both a large measure.

“I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”

He paused with the glass halfway to his mouth. “Yeah, you did.” he replied before taking another large mouthful.

“Maybe some of it,” she admitted. “But I don’t think it’s because of you that she died, I truly don’t.”

He studied her face and saw that she meant what she said. “Okay, thanks.” He gave her a small smile.

They both sat silently for a while each lost in their own thoughts.

“Top up?” he reached for the bottle again. Sarah put her hand on top of her glass, stopping him. “No, thank you. And no more for you either. We need to talk about what we’re going to do next.”

Michael was confused. “What do you mean, what we’re going to do next?”

“I want you to help me find out what really happened to Sarah.”

“What really happened?” she was clearly taking it really hard. “Sarah,” he reached across the table and put his hand on top of hers. “We know what happened. I know it’s hard to accept but we must.”

She pulled her hand away angrily. “Don’t patronise me, I’m not having some sort of a breakdown. There is no way that Sarah killed herself and I intend to prove it.”

“What do you think happened then?” He humored her.

“I think she was murdered.” She stuck her chin out and looked at him defiantly.

He held his glass up and peered at its contents. “I must have had more to drink than I thought, I could have sworn you said you thought she’d been murdered.”

“Take a look at this.” She reached down and pulled her laptop from a bag that he only then noticed she had with her. Putting it on the table, she opened it, hit a couple of keys and turned it so that the screen was facing him.

“Here. Take a look at this.”

“What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Just read it.”

Not wanting another argument he did as she asked and read the news article displayed on the screen. “So another girl was killed in a car crash. It’s sad Sarah but it happens a lot,” He pushed the laptop away. “I still don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“You will.” She tapped the keyboard and another article came up, almost the same as the first. “Another one.” she tapped some more and another article came up. “And another one.” She looked at him. “Don’t you see? All of these accidents were almost exactly the same as Sarah’s, and all of them were closed as suicides.”

He had to admit it did seem odd. “Are they all local? I don’t remember these.”

“No, they’re in different parts of the country, but that’s not important.”

“Of course it’s important.” He was relieved, he had actually started to think she might have a point. “It’s just coincidence Sarah, that’s all. You’re not doing yourself any good thinking there’s more to this than there is. It’s awful, but we need to accept it.”

She slammed the laptop shut. “I shouldn’t have come.” She put the laptop in her bag and stood up. “It may be convenient for you to just accept it, but I won’t,” She spat at him. “She was my sister and I loved her, and I’m damn well going to find out what happened to her.”

Michael winced when the door slammed as she stormed out of the house.
What was he supposed to do?
He understood that she was in pain, he was too, but looking for conspiracies where there were none wasn’t going to do her any good. He picked up the bottle again but instead of pouring more, he screwed the lid back on and put it away.
Enough.
The day’s events had left him completely drained and all he wanted to do now was crawl into bed. Hopefully the alcohol would help him sleep, if only for a few hours.

***

It was raining hard as Sarah left the house but she didn’t care. She looked up to the sky and let the drops fall on her face, her mind on her sister. She didn’t care what Michael said, she knew that she was right. The grief filled her with sadness but it hadn’t made her lose her mind. Something about this was wrong, very wrong, and she intended to find out what.

“Dammit!” Sarah cursed as the error message popped up on her screen. She’d been at it for hours and her eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep. Checking her watch she realized it was nearly 3 a.m. Hours and hours of staring at a computer screen and she had nothing to show for it. Flipping the lid closed on the laptop she stood and stretched her arms above her head, feeling her muscles uncoil from being in the same position for so long.

She should go to sleep but she knew it was pointless even to try. Since the accident she’d barely managed to grab a few hours here and there and today would be no different.
It probably doesn’t help that you must have drank a gallon of coffee since you got home
she thought as she went into the kitchen in search of more. Rinsing out the empty pot she filled the filter and leaned back against the kitchen counter while the water trickled into it.

Her eyes were drawn back to her laptop. Something about all of these cases was like an itch she just couldn’t scratch. She had nothing other than her gut telling her there was something wrong, but it was kicking and screaming, and she’d learned not to ignore it. She wasn’t getting anywhere though, even with her computer skills. Much as she didn’t want to do it, she was going to have to get in touch with her ex-boyfriend for help. Mitch was harmless and he would do anything she asked of him but he was really hard to shake. The last time she’d been in touch with him it had taken two months of her telling him that she wasn’t interested to get him to leave her alone. As a hacker he was the best she’d ever met, but as a person he was incredibly needy.

She didn’t worry about the time as she dialed his number. Mitch was a creature of the night.

“’lo”

“Hey Mitch, its Sarah.”

“Sarah! Hi! How are you? Wow, it’s been what, six months? More?”

“Yeah about that I think. How have you been?”

“Great, really great. But I know you haven’t called me after all this time to ask me how I am, have you?”

She smiled. Needy but smart. “No I haven’t. I need your help.”

“What do you need?”

“It’s about my sister, she was killed.”

There was a stunned silence for a moment before he spoke.

“Jennifer’s dead? How?”

“A car wreck.” her voice cracked.

“Do you still live in the same place?” he asked over her tears.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.” He put the phone down without another word.

He needed to get away—from the house, from Sarah —just away. He had put off packing up his mother’s house since she died, not able to bring himself to go there. He thought of it as his mother’s house but it was where he lived for most of his childhood until he left home and married Jennifer.

Now though it struck him as the only place he wanted to be. Sat on the outskirts of a small town about two hours’ drive away, it was somewhere he could go to be alone in peace.

Throwing some gear into a carry-all he locked the house, stowed the bag in the trunk of his truck and set off. It wasn’t long before he was passing the last few houses on the outskirts of town and he felt himself start to relax. He had travelled this road so often that his body was almost on autopilot as he drove and he was able to allow his mind to wander.

Jennifer and his mom, though friendly enough, had never been as close as he hoped. His mom wanted him to live closer, but Jennifer had been adamant that they not live on her doorstep, preferring to put some distance between them.

His mom had been very protective of him, even when he became an adult and Jennifer often said that she was overly so. To him it was perfectly normal; he’d never known anything different. She had been a great mom and he felt truly loved every day of his life.