Alex leaned his back against the plane as he watched Brynn climb the hill. He ran a freezing glove over his eyes. It was partially Monica’s fault he was here. If she had only agreed seven years ago to accept Samuel, Alex wouldn’t be in this position. And Samuel wouldn’t be dead.
Stop it. He should have known he could never change Monica. Rule one of marriage: don’t go into it assuming the other person will change for you.
Monica had been five and half feet of black-haired, browneyed spitfire. A corporate attorney, his wife could argue any opinion until she had Alex agreeing that blue was red. When he’d ask her to come with him to visit Samuel, she’d refuse. Every time.
Alex would leave the house convinced Monica didn’t need to see his brother. But by the time he’d parked in front of the care home he’d realize she’d bowled him over again. She always managed to finagle her way out of visiting Samuel.
So it wasn’t a surprise that she’d also refused his requests to let his brother come live with them.
Alex had understood, but he didn’t want to. Her arguments had made sense. How could their marriage grow with his brother in the house? How could they have any privacy or intimacy living with a mentally handicapped man who didn’t know what those words meant?
His brother was a twelve-year-old in a man’s body, and Alex had known he was asking too much of Monica by suggesting Samuel live with them. Samuel had been pretty independent, but he’d been known to get lost on the bus system or wander out of the house at two in the morning.
Alex had loved his brother fiercely. The age difference of seven years didn’t matter. All his life he’d been his little brother’s protector. First against the teasing kids of the neighborhood; then the kids at school; and then, after their parents died, Alex protected Samuel from the system. Samuel was one of those kids who kept falling through the cracks. Too advanced for full-time care, but needing more than part-time supervision. Alex had resorted to private care for his brother, looking for homes that would treat him like a family member. It wasn’t easy. Care for the mentally handicapped didn’t pay well and often attracted some of the dregs of society without skills. He was between a rock and a hard place. Samuel didn’t need people with advanced degrees taking care of him. He just needed a helping hand, some love and affection. Something Alex could have done if his wife hadn’t given him an ultimatum.
Live with her or his brother. Not both.
He’d sworn before God to make his marriage work.
So he’d chosen his wife and found the best care home possible for his brother and visited every weekend.
It was a relief that Samuel had liked the group home. He’d been more independent than several of the patients, and the owners often gave him responsibilities that included helping with other patients, odd jobs, organizing crafts, working in the gardens, and even cooking. Samuel had been thriving. Each visit he’d drag Alex from one end of the Maxwells’ group home to the other, reintroducing him to people Alex had met dozens of times over the years and showing off his latest artwork or the blooming rosebushes.
The guilt never went away. Samuel was Alex’s responsibility. But he’d known he couldn’t provide him with the stimulation and socialization Samuel found in the home. It had ripped at his heart. Kathy Maxwell had patted Alex’s shoulder as he left each weekend and said her usual mantra. “He’s happy here. Stop beating yourself up.”
Alex would smile and nod at the kind woman. And ignore the spasms that squeezed his lungs.
He’d never forget his last visit with his brother.
Samuel’s greeting hadn’t packed his usual enthusiasm. He’d looked away when Alex held out his fist for Samuel to bump.
“Hey, Buddy. What’s wrong?” He tousled Samuel’s dark hair and made a mental note to remind Kathy that he needed a haircut.
“Don’t call me Buddy.” He knocked Alex’s hand off his head and scowled out the window.
Ouch.
He’d called Samuel “Buddy” since he was born. Their father had started the nickname when Samuel was an infant. When he was young, Samuel had informed people his name was Buddy, not Samuel.
Alex studied his brother carefully. Samuel looked thinner, and his eyes had dark circles under them. Usually Samuel sparkled. He had an infectious grin and a rolling, low laugh that pulled everyone’s attention to him. Alex had often wondered what Samuel would have been like with a normal birth, where he hadn’t been deprived of oxygen for so long. He had Alex’s height and coloring, but he was softer, rounder in the face and build. If Samuel had Alex’s obsession for running and weightlifting, they would have been twins. Now with the shadows and weight loss, Samuel looked more like Alex than ever.
Something was definitely wrong. Alex glanced around for Kathy, wondering if the grandmotherly caretaker knew what was bothering Samuel. When Samuel was in a cranky mood, Alex could rarely get him to talk. The woman wasn’t in sight so Alex settled back into the old flowered couch and tried to relax his brother.
“Want to watch some TV? I’ll see if SpongeBob is on.”
“No.”
Okaaay. SpongeBob was a favorite. Alex looked out the window of the cramped living room. Pouring rain. He couldn’t ask Samuel to take him on a tour of the garden. Maybe…
“Rosa’s gone.”
Alex blinked, trying to remember Rosa. He pictured a woman with black hair who carried around a little dog that could fit in a teacup.
“Where’d she go?”
Samuel shrugged.
“Did she go home for a visit? Or just shopping?” Had his little brother developed a crush on the young resident?
“She’s gone. And she’s not coming back.” Samuel’s voice cracked, and Alex worried he was about to cry. Samuel never cried.
“Did she take her dog with her?” It was possible Samuel was more upset about the dog than Rosa.
He nodded and rubbed at his eyes. Alex wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and Samuel leaned into his chest. He’d always been an affectionate kid who’d responded to a comforting touch. “What was the dog’s name?”
“Hero.”
Hero had been a tiny little mutt, but the name was fitting with the dog’s big heart. “That’s too bad. He was a cute little guy.”
“He was mean to Hero.”
“Who was mean?”
“That man. The new one. He doesn’t like dogs, and he was mean to Hero. I hate him. I was going to tell on him.”
“Is that why Rosa left?” Alex mentally flipped through the newer patients, trying to remember one who didn’t like dogs. Would that be enough to make a patient move out?
Samuel shrugged again. “I don’t like him. It’s all his fault Rosa is gone. He threw Hero in the pool. I saw him do it. It hurt Rosa. I hate him.”
He could picture Rosa’s fury at her little dog getting thrown in the pool. It must have taken ten minutes for the itty-bitty dog to paddle his way to the pool’s edge. Rosa must have been angry enough to move out.
Alex wondered how to cheer him up. Or should he let it go? In a few days, Samuel would have completely forgotten about the girl and her dog. Maybe Samuel would like his own dog? The two of them had always wanted a dog when they were kids. He pondered the idea, picturing Samuel romping with a big golden retriever. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea if there was a dog hater in the group home. Kathy Maxwell might not go for it either. Rosa’s little dog had been more like a hamster.
“I’m still going to tell on him for hurting Hero, but right now I’m tired.” Samuel stood and left the room, leaving Alex on the couch in silence.
Alex rubbed at his thighs and stood, feeling guilty and abandoned in the little living room. Once Samuel stated he was tired, he wouldn’t speak for hours. Samuel would come out of his bedroom when he was ready, no earlier. No amount of talking, ice cream, or potato chips would make a difference. Alex had just slipped on his jacket when Kathy Maxwell stepped in from the garage, her arms loaded with groceries. She looked like the perfect grandma in her old-fashioned housedress. Alex always expected her to offer him chocolate chip cookies and milk.
She usually did.
“Oh. Hello, Alex. I thought that was your truck out front.” She glanced behind him at the empty space. “Where’s Samuel?”
Alex twisted his lips and took both bags of groceries from her arms. “He’s pretty upset about Rosa and Hero. He went to his room.”
Kathy’s sweet face fell. “It’s so awful. He’s doing much better, but he seems so sad and angry all the time. He keeps picking arguments with the residents and my new assistant. I’ve brought in extra therapists this week to help everyone deal with it, but Samuel’s been tougher to handle since he’s the one who found the body.”
Alex’s stomach dropped. “The body?”
Kathy gave a confused look over her shoulder as she led him into the kitchen. “Rosa’s. Isn’t that what you were talking about?”
“I thought she moved out. Are you saying she’s dead and Samuel found her? Why wasn’t I told?” He dropped the bags on the counter as his voice rose.
“I told your wife on Tuesday. I had a long talk with her just after it happened. I assumed she’d told you.” Kathy paused, tilting her head at him. “I did wonder why you didn’t come out right away. Samuel could have used the support.”
He squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach churned.
Monica.
Why? Why would she not tell him? Did she think Samuel would forget by the following day? Or did she not want Alex running to the rescue and instead stay home with her?
Bile rose in his throat.
“Jesus Christ. He was the one to find the body? What happened to the woman?” Alex ran a hand through his hair.
“Samuel saw Rosa in the pool next door. Spotted her through the fence. I don’t know how she got over there. Our gate is locked, and the neighbors have always been so good about keeping their gate locked too. We’ve talked about it many times. And both gates were still locked when your brother spotted the body.”
“In the pool? He saw her in the pool?” Alex whispered as he stared at a scratch on the countertop. Icy chills were swirling around his spine. “Where was the dog?”
Kathy’s face fell. “It’s so sad. Hero was in the pool too. We don’t know if Rosa went in the pool to rescue him or if little Hero jumped in after Rosa. Either way it’s too sad to think about.”
“Who threw the dog in the pool?”
“What?” Confusion covered Kathy’s face, and she halted in the act of lifting cans of soup out of the sack.
“Samuel said the new guy threw Hero in the pool. Said he didn’t like dogs.”
“I never heard about Hero being deliberately thrown in the pool before. When was this?” She set down the cans, her tone bewildered.
Alex shrugged, meeting her eyes. Time was relative to Samuel. “Who didn’t like Hero?”
“Everybody liked Hero. He was the cutest little thing. I don’t usually allow dogs, but Hero barely qualified as a dog. Rosa carried him everywhere like a doll.”
“Who’s the new guy Samuel was talking about?”
“I don’t have any new residents…”
“You said you had a new assistant.”
“Oh, yes. Darrin. He’s been just wonderful. I don’t know how I got along without him. And he loved Rosa’s dog. He was always offering to hold Hero.”
Four days later Alex’s brother was dead.
Alex had sat silently in the pew after his brother’s funeral. It had been a small service. Kathy Maxwell had arranged for everyone from the group home to come, and most of the agents Alex worked with had shown up. But they’d come alone for the most part. A few brought their wives. No one from Monica’s side of the family came. He wondered if she’d even told her parents that her husband’s brother had died.
Alex’s family was simply him and his brother. Their parents were dead. No uncles, no aunts. It’d been just the two of them for a long time. Maybe that was why he’d tried so hard to take care of Samuel. He was his only real family. Now Alex was alone.
Except for Monica.
He’d been furious after discovering she’d not told him about Samuel finding Rosa’s body. It’d developed into one of their hottest fights. She’d claimed she’d forgotten.
“How on earth could you have forgotten to tell me something like that? Who can forget a death? Especially one that Samuel discovered? He must have been going crazy unable to see me.”
The tendons in Alex’s neck felt like they were about to snap.
“I forgot! I tried to call you on your cell and couldn’t get through. And then I had to get ready for dinner! I just forgot!” Her spine stiffened, but he’d seen the fear in her eyes. She’d known she’d messed up.
He’d balled up his suit jacket and thrown it across the bedroom, wanting to throw something harder, heavier. “It just shows where your priorities lie.”
“Samuel is your priority, not mine!” she’d shouted, tears welling in her eyes. “He’s all you think about.”
“If you really loved me, he’d be your priority too.” His gaze had been fierce. He was giving her one last chance. It was an unfair chance, he knew that. He also knew exactly how she’d answer. Maybe it was his way of admitting he couldn’t fight for their marriage anymore.
She’d pressed her lips closed and stared helplessly at him. Then she’d spun into the bathroom and slammed the door.
It was the end.
When Samuel had drowned in the neighbor’s pool days later, the coincidence had been too much for Alex to handle, but all he had to go on was Samuel’s rambling statement about
Darrin being mean to the dog. The police were calling both deaths accidental, but Alex’s gut wouldn’t accept it. Alex picked up a cigarette of Darrin’s and took it to a friend at the Oregon State Police lab. That single cigarette yielded a DNA sample that eventually linked Darrin to the multistate deaths of six nursing home patients and four nurse rape/murder scenes.
Much later Besand confessed to a dozen more.
Alex had led the police to a killer, but this particular DNA evidence didn’t link Darrin Besand to Samuel’s or Rosa’s murders. The police ruled the deaths accidental because there simply hadn’t been any evidence of foul play. Samuel had water in his lungs, indicating he’d died in the pool, but no bruising on his face or neck to indicate a struggle. Just like Rosa. Darrin Besand refused to admit he’d killed Alex’s brother and Rosa.
But Alex knew better.
Paul Whittenhall wandered too close to the media corral, and they stuck their microphones in his face.
“Sir, any word on survivors of the plane crash?”
“Have you heard from the search team?”
“I’m hearing that Darrin Besand is now confirmed to be on that plane. Do you care to comment, sir?”
Paul jerked at the last question and locked gazes with the female who’d thrown it at him. Regan Simmons. The television reporter from Channel 5. The rest of the media looked cold, tired, and irritated. Many of them had spent the night in their cars. But Regan looked energetic and raring to go. She and Paul had spent the night at the same hotel. He knew because she’d shared his room and bed.
He’d confirmed Besand’s presence to her last night with the understanding she’d keep it to herself until he gave the go-ahead to release the information. Now she stared at him, microphone thrust forward, a knowing smile on her lips and a reckless challenge in her blue eyes.
Paul knew he’d been screwed.
Regan had attached herself to him in the bar last night. All perky boobs and shiny hair and perfect teeth. She’d laughed at his jokes and tossed their respective jobs out the window, whispering that she needed to blow off some steam and she thought he looked like he needed to do the same. She’d been right.
The talk had been kept to a minimum. She hadn’t pried into the case, and he’d only dropped Besand’s name as she got dressed to leave. For some odd reason he hadn’t wanted her to leave just yet and had offered her a lead if she’d agree to stay another hour. Under the condition of keeping it to herself for now.
Traitorous bitch.
Now in the freezing snow, she stretched out a smile, subtly licked her lips, and winked. Paul hated his body for responding. Her arched, perfectly plucked right eyebrow slowly rose in unison with his cock as she silently informed him she knew he was hard.
Yesterday he’d tried to quash the rumor of Besand. Giving the usual line of needing to inform family before press. He’d tried to point the media’s nose in a different direction, hinting that the plane had already made its transport and was simply returning home.
He’d only put off the inevitable. If Regan’s station ran the story, everyone else would do the same.
“Darrin Besand?” One reporter nearly swallowed his gum. “When we asked yesterday, you said that was a rumor.”
“Is there confirmation or not?”
“Did she say Besand? The serial killer? Is that true, sir?”