Three

Rusty turned off the movie, causing the room to go completely dark. He turned on the flashlight app on his phone and glanced over at the kids. They had both fallen asleep on the couch. Kaylie had curled up with a blanket, and Brady was using an armrest for a pillow. He considered letting them sleep there, but thought they would fare better in their own beds. 

“Come on, guys. Let’s get to bed.”

Brady mumbled and Kaylie didn’t respond. He went over and helped Brady up. “Time to get to bed.”

“You’re waking me up so I can go to sleep.”

“That’s right.” Rusty patted his shoulders and guided him toward the hall. Kaylie walked by them, mumbling something.

Rusty’s phone rang. It was their dad. 

“I’d better get this. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.” He went over to the dining room and answered. “Chris, is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not. They’re detaining me for more questioning.”

“More?” Rusty asked. “Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, but I don't have time to talk about it.”

“Can I do anything for you?”

Chris sighed. “Can you take care of the kids?”

“Of course. They’re getting ready for bed now.”

“I can’t thank you enough. Tell them I’ll be back soon.”

“Sure thing.”

The call ended. Rusty slid the phone back into his pocket, trying to make sense of the whole situation. There was so little information online—he’d checked. The only thing he’d been able to find was that police had spent a lot of time questioning Chris down at the station. Far more than seemed normal spousal questioning.

He needed to look around and see if there were any answers in the house. But first, he needed to check on the kids.

Brady was brushing his teeth. He spit into the sink. “Where’s Dad?”

“The police have a few more questions for him. He promises to be back soon.”

“So, he’s still there?” Brady rinsed his mouth with some blue liquid in a container with cartoon characters on the front.

“Unfortunately. But if you need anything, I’m staying here.”

Brady spit into the sink. “Okay. And thanks for dinner. That was so good—like eating at a restaurant.”

“Just wait until breakfast.” Rusty winked at him, and Brady’s tired eyes lit up. He went back out to the living room and cleaned up some popcorn that had spilled on the carpet and then took the bowls into the kitchen. He went into their rooms, finding them both asleep already.

He closed their doors and stood in the hall, trying to figure out where to start looking. The logical place was Mandy’s bedroom. He was a little hesitant to poke around because of it also being Chris’s room, but maybe he could find something that would prove his innocence. 

Rusty brushed aside his reticence and headed for the room. It was small for a master bedroom. The faded paint appeared to have once been ocean blue, now peeled near the window and closet. The unmade queen-size bed took up most of the space. Some framed family pictures decorated the headboard. On the side nearest him, clothes were strewn across the floor along with pages from a newspaper.

He went over to the other side of the bed that had a nightstand full of hair products and makeup. A stuffed rabbit sat against a reading lamp, nearly falling over. Rusty’s throat closed up. He’d won that for Mandy at the state fair when he was twelve. He picked it up and held it close. It smelled of her perfume—cinnamon and vanilla.

The hairs stood up on the back of Rusty’s neck. He spun around, nearly dropping the stuffed animal. No one was there. It felt like someone was watching him, but the blinds were closed and the house was silent. 

He glanced around for a camera, but didn’t see anything. That, of course, didn’t mean anything. He recalled their old nanny cams that rested in the eyeballs of teddy bears. They weren’t visible unless you knew exactly where they were.

If Chris confronted him on being there, he would say the truth—he was trying to help. Plus, his brother-in-law had told him to make himself at home. Getting to know his estranged sister was just that.

Rusty returned the bunny and opened the top drawer of the nightstand. There were several romance books stashed in there. He picked up the stack, finding a variety of genres from horror to suspense. Another book sat beneath the others. It was different from the others. It looked like a journal.

Bingo. He set the novels down and picked up the diary. 

Knock, knock. The front door.

Rusty’s heart raced, feeling guilty for snooping. He shoved the books back and closed the drawer before putting the journal into the guest room. He slid it underneath the mattress and then hurried to the door.

From the window next to the door, he saw Laura. She waved at him.

Rusty opened the door.

“Hi,” she said. “I noticed Chris’s van is still gone, and wanted to check in on you.”

“I just got the kids to bed.”

Laura frowned, her pretty eyes widening. “Poor things. I can’t even imagine what they’re going through. How are they holding up?”

“About as well as can be expected.” Rusty opened the door wider, and she came in. “I think they’ve been eating cereal all week, though.”

“I have a feeling you put a stop to that.” She took a deep breath. “Mmm. It smells so good in here. What did you order?” 

“I made chicken marsala.”

“A man who can cook?” She arched a brow. “Impressive.”

“Plenty of men cook.”

“Not the ones I know.” 

“Maybe you should teach them.”

She twisted a strand of hair tightly around her finger. “Dad has other interests and you can’t tell my ex-husband anything. Not that I’m the greatest cook.”

“Oh. Do you want some food? I made plenty.”

“I couldn’t.”

He shrugged and closed the door.

“Well, maybe I could. You talked me into it.”

Laura glanced around, appearing curious. Had Chris forbidden her from coming inside? Rusty wanted to get back to Mandy’s journal, but maybe he could learn something from her friend. He warmed her up a plate in the microwave and turned around. She held up a bottle of wine. “Want some?”

He shook his head. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“I can’t think of a better time for it.”

“How about some coffee? I make a mean organic creamer.”

Laura tilted her head and gave him a once-over. “You’re a man of many surprises.” She returned the bottle to the wine rack. “If it’s anything like the chicken smells, how can I turn that down?”

He set the plate on the table and prepared the coffee pot before gathering his ingredients for the creamer.

“This is heavenly. Have you ever been a chef?” she asked.

Rusty held in a snicker. “Hardly. I haven’t always had an interest in cooking.” He stirred milk in with the other creamer ingredients, poured the coffee into the mugs, and mixed in the creamer. He sat across from Laura and handed her one.

She took a sip and closed her eyes as though savoring it. 

Rusty took a deep breath and thought about what to ask her. So many questions ran through his mind, it was hard to sort through them, much less pick where to start.

Laura opened her eyes and held his gaze. “That’s the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

The corners of his lips twitched. “What did I tell you?”

“You should seriously open a restaurant. I’d go—every day. I don’t know why you bother with towing.”

“It’s a labor of love. I can’t see myself cooking on a grand scale.”

“Oh, I can. And you’d look great in a chef’s hat, too.”

Warmth crept into his cheeks. Sure, he was used to being hit on—but not usually by sober women. In most cases, he was trying to keep them out of their cars before they hurt themselves or someone else.

“Did Mandy ever learn to cook?”

“Not unless it came from a box. She liked to eat out.”

“Sounds like her.”

“Why did you two grow apart?” Laura took another bite of chicken.

“We had some differences of opinion. I always figured we’d have time to work them out.” Rusty frowned. “I should have tried sooner.”

She put her hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have seen this coming. Heck, I talked to her every day, and I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe she’s gone. I don’t want to think about her killing herself, but at the same time, I can’t think about anyone hurting her, either. What do you think? Were you serious about Chris?”

They studied each other. Laura’s eyebrows wrinkled and some hair fell into her eyes. She brushed it away. “Everyone has problems, and Mandy always seemed to have more than her fair share.”

That certainly sounded like his sister.

Laura pulled some hair behind her ear and shrugged. “Trouble just seemed to follow her around, you know?”

“Like what?”

“Everything. Crazy stuff—like what you’d see on television. Not things that actually happen in the suburbs.” Her eyebrows came together as she continued studying him. It felt like she was feeling out his reactions.

“Drugs?” Rusty asked. 

Laura sat up straight. “No, nothing like that. She moved past all that long ago. Why do you ask that?”

Rusty looked into his half-full mug, not sure he wanted to talk about Mandy’s past. It had been hard enough to live through it, watching his sister destroy her life one piece at a time. At least she had cleaned up.

“Rusty?”

He glanced up at her. “She struggled with it a bit in her younger years. It caused some… rifts… in our family.” And by rifts, he meant ripping it apart. His parents had never been the same since cutting her out of their lives, but they’d had no other choice. “What was she like since you’ve known her?”

Laura took another sip of her coffee. “She always seemed worried about something. Looking over her shoulder a lot.”

“For what?”

“She never really said.” 

“How close were the two of you?”

She shrugged. “We talked. When we could.”

“Meaning?”

“Chris didn’t really like her out of his sight. He didn’t like me because I invited her out places. I don’t know what he thought—that I was taking her out to bars to meet men?” Laura shook her head. “Mandy liked going out for dinner and talking. We’d discuss work, kids, whatever.”

“And he didn’t like that?”

“Nope. It got to the point where she stopped asking about hanging out anymore. She hated bringing it up with him, so she stopped.”

“So, you haven’t spent any time with her recently?” Rusty gathered the empty mugs and plate.

“Just talking in our yards. Leaning over the backyard fence to gossip about the neighbors. Or sneaking in discussions while working on the front yards.”

“Hmm.” Rusty put everything in the dishwasher and started it. “Did Chris still seem to hate you?”

“Hate is a bit strong. But he never liked me.”

Rusty sat back down. “Why was Chris so distrustful of you? Or is it Mandy he didn’t trust?”

A strange expression covered Laura’s face for a moment, but then she smiled again. “Hard to say.”

“What was that?”

“What?” Laura’s eyes widened.

“The look on your face. Like you know something. All I want is to figure out what really happened.”

“So, you don’t think it was suicide, either?”

“I’m the last one to judge her, but if it wasn’t, and I can help prove she didn’t take her own life, at least that would be one last thing I can do for my sister.” Tears stung his eyes and he blinked them away.

Laura rested her chin in her palm. “I do have one theory.”

“What is it?” Rusty leaned over the table, staring into her dark, mysterious eyes.

She glanced from side to side and lowered her voice. “Mandy told me that she thought one of the kids isn’t Chris’s.”

“Brady.”

“How’d you know?”

“Just looking at him. He’s a spitting image of Mandy at that age, except for his coloring. Neither she nor Chris have that light of complexion or hair.”

Laura leaned back. “That’s true. I wonder if she ever got the proof.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was talking about DNA testing. Comparing hair samples from their brushes.”

“Why wait until now?” Rusty asked.

“Well…” Laura played with her necklaces. “She thought she could make things work with Chris, and I guess they did for a while. But then last year, it was all she could talk about. To me, anyway. But then we stopped going out, and she didn’t bring it up anymore.”

“Do you know who the guy was?” Rusty twisted his hands together under the table.

Laura stared into his eyes. “Only the richest man in town.”