Saturday, June 30th, 2018
They spent dinner in silence, and Luke had to admit it was probably better that way.
He’d watched the latest press conference by the mayor. Bostonians were angry. They wanted the killer caught, and he, too, wanted nothing more. That would mean Kate could relax a bit. Having the entire city scrutinize her lack of progress hadn’t been easy on her.
He watched her tired eyes as she moved peas back and forth on her plate. Maybe she’d also lost her appetite.
Why did the Boston PD Public Relations person have to go and mention their lead detective by name? Rookie mistake. Their household was paying the price for it. And now some nosy reporter had made a connection between his job at the DNA lab for the Massachusetts State Police and Kate as the lead investigator, exposing something any defense attorney would have a feast with.
But that was neither here nor there. They still had to find a killer first before they would worry about that. Luke knew they’d done everything by the book, but he couldn’t help but worry nonetheless. Their relationship had been disclosed to all who needed to know. He had personally avoided involvement with any evidence brought in by Kate and her team for any and all cases she worked on. But he was still the lab supervisor in charge of the DNA analysis the Boston PD needed done. A greedy defense attorney could probably make some connection somewhere that could get them in trouble.
But there was nothing he could do about it now. Nothing but keep the house’s curtains closed. Those reporters would eventually go away, like they had around twenty-four hours after the last time Kate had been mentioned by name on the news.
The doorbell rang yet again. Luke looked at the clock on the wall. A good twenty minutes had elapsed since their last attempt.
“Should I go this time?” Mrs. O’Brien offered.
“No, Mom. They’ll go away if we keep ignoring them.”
But he knew the only way they’d go away for sure was if Kate and her team found the killer.
Not having personally examined the evidence the detectives had brought in hadn’t prevented Luke from keeping an eye on the results. Everything the detectives had examined had been proven useless. Even those oils they sampled from five different churches around town and the oil on the second victim’s forehead. They’d all been made from the same batch. Whether or not that had helped the detectives, Luke had no idea. All he knew was that unless they had more evidence to point them to one specific church, they’d only expanded their scope instead of narrowing it down as they had probably hoped.
Perhaps they’d have more luck trying to trace where the frankincense and sage had come from.
“How about we watch a comedy after dinner?” Luke suggested to his mom and Kate. They could all use a laugh.
Kate got up and shook her head.
“Sorry, I’m not in the mood for it.”
Exactly my point, he thought, but he knew better than to voice those words.
As she scraped a few untouched bites into the garbage, Kate spoke up. “It was delicious, Mrs. O’Brien, as always.”
“My pleasure, dear. Glad you liked it.” She got up, grabbing her dirty dishes and taking them to the sink.
“You guys watch something. I’ll just go back to those boxes in your office,” Kate said to Luke, not even bothering to look at him while she spoke.
Luke inhaled deeply as he pondered what he should do. Then, hearing his mom turn on the faucet, he re-opened his eyes and got to his feet.
“Mom, please don’t bother with the dishes! I’ll take care of them. Why don’t you go and find something to watch? I’ll be right with you.”
She turned off the water but left her hand on the faucet as her stern eyes met his.
“You’re going to ignore your old mom and take care of her. That poor child—”
“She’s not a poor child. She’s one of the strongest women I know.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. Not only is she dealing with the stress of every Bostonian blaming her for the lack of progress on those murder cases, she’s also decided to reopen her old wounds from decades ago?”
Luke cleared his throat, knowing fair well that he was to blame for that, not Kate.
“Mom—”
“No.” She grabbed Luke’s dishes from his hands and added them to the sink in front of her.
“Do your best to ignore me. Go and make her think of something else. Anything other than those murder cases.”
Luke considered refusing but knew better. “Fine.”
He refilled his glass of wine and headed to his office, but instead of walking in, he just leaned against the frame of the open door, staring at Kate, sitting in his chair, her gloved hands carefully opening more envelopes.
Her nose twitched, then she looked up and he realized she was fighting back tears. Again.
“Smell this!” she said, offering a yellowed Christmas card.
He walked toward his desk and leaned down to do just that. “Is that… cologne?” His nose twitched as well. “Old Spice?”
“Is that what it is? Old Spice?”
“I’m pretty sure. Dad used to have some back in the day.”
Kate smelled the card again, then closed her eyes. “That’s what I smelled around my mom when the hypnotherapist took me back.”
“That means…”
She dropped the card and her hands dug themselves into her hair, scratching her scalp as her face contorted in pain.
“After all these years! I don’t understand why nobody ever found these letters! Why didn’t the police see them when they searched the house? Why didn’t Mom open them? Why did she keep them? Who’s this E guy?”
“And how is the smell still in there?”
But she shook her head and got up instead, reaching for Luke’s glass and then downing half of it in one large sip.
“I’m no detective, but I know this isn’t your handwriting on the box. Who wrote that?” Luke asked, pointing to the words Steve and Jo’s attic.
“That’s Kenny’s handwriting. He must have found it in Mom and Dad’s attic when they cleared it. That’s the only reason why the sheriff and his team wouldn’t have found it. But why did he never show it to me? Why didn’t he unpack what it contained?” She finished the rest of Luke’s wine.
“Maybe it was too difficult for him as well. Wasn’t your dad his only brother?”
“Yeah,” Kate said, wrapping her arms around Luke’s waist and letting her head rest against his chest.
“That’s one thing we’ll never know. Kenny took that information with him to the grave, but you can do something about those letters now.”
“But I still don’t understand why she kept the letters and never opened them. And why did she keep them in the attic?”
“I don’t think she wanted your dad to find them.”
“But why not throw them away? Why keep them?” she asked, her green eyes looking up to him. From the sadness that shone from them, he knew Kate had connected the dots, but acknowledging those facts had to be painful.
His chest tightened at his inability to make her feel better. No matter what he said or did, there was nothing he could do to ease her suffering. Those damned letters had soiled whatever memories she’d kept of her belated, beloved mother.
And it was his fault she’d opened them.
But there was no point beating himself up over it. He’d already apologized for that, and she’d have eventually found them on her own.
“So what do you want to do?” He rubbed her back as she inhaled deeply.
“I’ll send them to Sheriff Ramsay. He can have them analyzed for prints, maybe find some DNA in the envelopes’ glue. Come on, let’s go watch a movie. But nothing about cheating spouses, please.”