You Don't Want To Know

Chapter 43


Feeling like a caged animal in the den with the rest of the Church family, Dern managed to hang on to his patience, but it took more than a little effort. Outside, the night was thick, impenetrable, while inside the house, a pall had settled over the residents.

More cops arrived, along with the medical examiner and the crime scene people. Even J. T. Biggs, the sheriff himself, in full uniform, showed up in the early morning hours, though he spent more time outside the house organizing the search party than inside.

While the staff and occupants of the house were called in for interviews one by one, the technicians and investigators began collecting evidence. Everyone was questioned, even Graciela, who arrived for work several hours into the interviews and was escorted into the den. Doe-eyed, she, too, waited to tell everything she knew about Jewel-Anne’s death, which she’d only heard about when Khloe had texted her earlier.

When it came to his turn, right after Wyatt Garrison, Dern was led into the dining room, offered coffee, which he declined, and was pointed to a chair on the opposite side of the table from Detective Lyons. She was typing on a tablet computer, her coffee forgotten, not so much as a lipstick stain on the rim of the cup.

The interview was quick. “Just tell me what happened last night,” she instructed. Obviously the police already knew about the altercation between Jewel-Anne and Ava that had occurred the night before the murder. What they didn’t know was where Lester Reece was hiding or that Austin Dern just happened to be his half brother. Dern decided to lay all his cards on the table. First with the cops; next with Ava. He figured he owed her that much. So, after explaining about the night before and answering a few subsequent questions to his statement, he said, “You know, there’s another wrinkle here.”

“Is there? And what’s that?” Lyons asked as she typed on her keypad.

“I’m Lester Reece’s half brother.”

Her reaction was swift. She looked up sharply, her fingers quit moving, and her gaze focused hard on him.

“Is that right?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You know,” she said, her eyes narrowing a little, as if she really thought he might try to con her, “I haven’t seen any record of Reece having a sibling.”

“Then your records aren’t complete.” Dern was ready for the argument, had figured no one would believe him, and he didn’t really give a damn one way or the other; he just wanted to say it. “Here’s the short and the long of it: Reece and I have the same mother.” She glanced at her iPad. Probably checking out his facts as he gave them to her. “My mother is Reba Melinda Corliss Reece Dern McDaniels. The marriage to Reece was short. She lives in Texas. Moved around a lot. El Paso, Houston, a couple of smaller towns. She’s now living in a town called Bad Luck. Kind of appropriate.”

Her eyebrows lifted a bit as her gaze moved from the small screen to his face. “So many names. Your mother was a serial marrier?”

“You could say that.” He tried not to be rankled, to let it slide, but he’d always had a soft spot when it came to Reba.

Lyons’s eyebrows puckered together, and Dern could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. She clicked a pen as she thought. “I don’t know how we could have missed this.”

“Me, neither. But I’m just telling you straight up,” he said.

“Okay, go on.” Finally he’d caught her interest. She leaned back in her chair.

“Well, here’s the good news,” he said cautiously. “I think I can lead you to Reece.”

“Seriously?” Again the skeptic.

“Yep.”

Her smile said she didn’t believe him for a second, but she quit clicking her damned pen. “Okay, Dern, I’ll bite. That’s the good news? So what’s the bad?”

Dern said, “He ain’t gonna like it.”





“So I should have told you sooner, I guess,” Dern admitted after telling Ava that he was Lester Reece’s half brother.

“I don’t guess,” she said angrily. “I know!” Ava couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but Dern seemed dead serious as he broke the news to her in the kitchen, less than an hour after he’d finished his interviews. He’d spoken for a long time with Lyons and then spent another hour or so in the dining room talking to both cops after Lyons called Snyder in. Ava had guessed whatever he’d told them was important, but she hadn’t expected this—that Dern was Lester Reece’s damned half brother. Dear God, was everyone related to the maniac? First Noah and now Dern.

Not everyone—just the people you care about!

Ava had witnessed Lyons, obviously agitated, summon Snyder and sequester him for a while; then each detective had left the dining room and made a couple of calls, one at a time, while leaving the other to keep the interview going. Even J. T. Biggs had deigned to come up from the stable area where he was amassing the search party and had closeted himself in the dining room with the others.

Whatever Dern had told them, it had an impact.

At the time, she’d wondered, Was he a suspect? Had he told them Ava had been hell-bent on getting Jewel-Anne off the island? Or was it something else?

Ava and everyone else in the house had seen Biggs join the detectives, but no one had been able to guess why.

“What the f*ck is all that about?” Jacob had asked as his cell phone jangled. “Oh, great. Mom and Dad have touched down in Seattle. This is just getting better and better.”

Ian had groaned and went looking for a cigarette break, which was finally allowed, and Trent, seeming to have aged five years in as many hours, walked into the kitchen for a cup of coffee while Virginia, Khloe, and Simon waited to talk to the cops.

Ava hadn’t said anything but had wondered what Dern had told Lyons to get the detective so riled up.

Now she knew.

But she was having a lot of trouble digesting the information.

“I don’t believe you,” Ava said, the odor of stale coffee lingering in the kitchen.

“Why would I lie?”

“God knows.”

“I swear to you.”

“Great. Go ahead. Swear till you’re blue in the face.” She was tired, cranky, still shocked at having found Jewel-Anne so gruesomely killed and sick at the thought of Lester Reece being her son’s father . . . now this? After everything else?

“Ava,” he said, reaching for her, but she stepped away. “I’m telling you the truth, and trust me, I don’t like it any better than you do.”

The honesty on his face got to her. And there were other reasons to believe him as well, even though she wanted desperately to deny the obvious. Hadn’t she always thought he reminded her of someone? Hadn’t she once imagined she’d viewed Lester Reece in the rising mist, only to look again and discover she was staring at Austin Dern?

“Just listen,” he said, and as they stood near the sink, he explained about him and Reece having the same mother and her being married several times, but it was too much for her to take in after sleepless nights and the shock of Jewel-Anne’s and Evelyn McPherson’s murders. Tired to the bone, she listened but couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets this man had kept from her. Why had she trusted him, fancied herself falling in love with this stranger, this man who had no more substance than the fog rolling in from the Pacific?

Because you’re an idiot. A damned romantic fool. That’s why.

“So . . . why didn’t you tell me you were related to Reece earlier?” she asked, hurt and more than a little pissed. “Why let me go on believing that you were someone you weren’t?”

“The timing wasn’t right.”

“Oh. Great!” she said sarcastically. “Tell me, when was the timing ever going to be right?”

“Don’t know.”

“Maybe never?”

“Didn’t turn out that way, did it?”

More good news, she thought, anger sharpening her disappointment that he hadn’t confided in her before. “So . . . let me get this straight. And help me out if I get this wrong, okay?” she said as she tried to make sense of what he’d told her. “You’re saying that you’re . . . you’re Noah’s biological uncle?”

“I don’t know. That isn’t a leap I can make. You don’t really know if Noah is his son.” Leaning his hip against the counter, Dern rubbed the worn tile with one finger. “The truth is, I really don’t know Reece. At all. Don’t even know that much about him. He was raised by his father, who I never met. I’d barely even heard of the guy. My mother didn’t discuss him and preferred no one knew that she’d ever been involved with him. Believe me, Ava, I had no idea Lester Reece had a kid. I’ve never heard that. It’s just what the cops have conjectured, right? The only person who really knows is Jewel-Anne.”

“But—”

“So far it’s all just speculation.”

“Isn’t everything?” She stared at the faucet where a drop of water was forming on the spigot. “God, I’m sick of this . . . the second-guessing and not knowing and . . . all of it. Every damned thing!”

“I know.” His gaze found hers and her throat tightened. She thought he might reach for her, but he was smart enough to give her some space. Besides, though they were alone in the kitchen, the house was crawling with people.

As everyone milled around, the cops still collecting evidence or talking to each other or on phones, her family being questioned, she was still trying to understand how this—her life, her son’s disappearance—all fit together. And it didn’t. For God’s sake, how could it? Austin Dern was the half brother of one of the most heinous murderers in the state. Not to mention uncle to her son. Really? And he just happened to be hired by her husband on the QT. No way was it all coincidence. “Is that why you took this job?” she asked. “Because of Reece?” She noticed the water still dripping from the faucet and she cranked hard on the handle.

“One of the reasons. I had a suspicion that he was back on the island.”

“Why? I mean, he escaped from Sea Cliff. Why would he come back?”

“He could have run out of options. Maybe he felt safer here and thought the cops would never come back here since it was combed years before. It might be that he was drawn back because of Jewel-Anne or something else. Who knows. But the island is isolated. Has deep forests where anyone could get lost. It’s surrounded by ocean. Not all that inhabited. He could have some freedom without fear of too many people seeing him.”

“But he would be trapped here.”

“He’s trapped in his own damned skin.”

“Yeah, but anyone here who did see him would recognize him. He could get lost in a city, a big city far away. No one in Boston or Miami would know or probably even care about him.”

Dern was nodding, as if he’d already considered her arguments. “Reece could have changed his appearance. It’s been a while, but you’re right—the few sightings that there were caught my attention. And the local rumors about him. Was he like Bigfoot, or was he really here? Thought I’d find out for myself. That’s one of the reasons I came here, took the job.”

“The island’s been searched before.”

“As I said, a long time ago. I figured he probably left for a while. Who knows? But for some reason he came back, felt safe here at the very place where it all started: Sea Cliff.”

“He escaped from Sea Cliff. I’d think it would be the last place on Earth he’d want to be,” she said, keeping her voice low as Virginia seemed to hover near the door either to eavesdrop or just keep an eye on the area of the house she considered her domain.

“Exactly. That’s what any sane person would think. He could have figured he was going to use it to his advantage.”

“Pretty far-fetched.”

“Or not. I’ve been up to the hospital a couple of times. Broke in and poked around. I’ve found evidence that someone’s been hanging out there, but I haven’t explored all the buildings; there are a few places locked so tight, I wasn’t able to break in.” He frowned, the edge of his jaw sharpening. “Yet.”

Her head was pounding with bad news followed by worse. She hadn’t yet come to grips with the fact that Jewel-Anne and Dr. McPherson had been killed by the same homicidal maniac who had murdered Cheryl Reynolds, and now Dern’s announcement that he was related to the guy who could have killed them? “I can’t deal with this right now.” She started to walk away, but he grabbed the crook of her elbow.

“You don’t have a choice, Ava,” he whispered, turning her to him, his nose nearly touching hers, his gaze so intense she felt as if he could see into her soul. “There are people here who think you killed your cousin as well as two other women.”

Her insides turned to ice at the thought that not only her family, but also the police might try to make a case against her, a strong case.

Dern was the one person who believed in her. Yes, he’d lied, but who on this damned island hadn’t?

“I think Reece is behind the murders. He just can’t help himself. It’s an obsession with him. Who knows if he’s killed others while he was off the island—like you said, in other big cities—but these three women, so close together, they have to be his work.”

Snyder’s earlier question flitted through her mind. “You think Lester Reece would take the trouble to place dolls around your cousin? Slice and paint ’em up?” She said, “You know, he might not be the killer.”

“There’s that chance, yes. But if we can flush Reece out, we can find out. Maybe end all this insanity.”

That she believed. And she was tired of sitting around, letting the cops try and prove she was behind the deaths of three women. “Okay,” she said, feeling a little sizzle of electricity through her blood that she could actually do something. “Let’s find him. I’m in!”

“Wait a second.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Dern shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” She wasn’t going to be deterred. “You’ve convinced me that Lester Reece might be on the island, so let’s go find him.” She pressed her face even closer to his. “Killer or not, he’s the only person who might have an idea where Noah is!”

“You don’t know that,” Dern said slowly.

“I don’t care! Reece is the only hope I have right now.” That thought was depressing; she couldn’t pin all her hopes on the known killer. Frustrated, she glanced out the window at the bevy of police vehicles that had been ferried to the island, all gathered near the gates of the estate, headlights on, though dawn was finally approaching. An armed posse, with Joe Biggs as their leader. Oh, Jesus. “They’ll kill Reece,” she said with sudden clarity. “They’ll kill him.” Grabbing hold of Dern’s shirt, her fingers curled into the worn fabric. “And if they do, I’ll never know what happened to Noah. Don’t you see?” Desperation cracked her voice. “He’ll be lost to me! I have to go!”

“Oh, honey . . .” Sighing, Dern folded her into his arms and held her tight. She heard the beating of his heart, felt his breath in her hair, felt weak against his strength. “Listen,” he said softly, “just hang tough. The police are only letting me go because I think I know where we can find him and because I was once a cop. Still in the reserves. I know what I’m doing. I won’t get in the way and I won’t be a liability.”

“And I would? This is my son we’re talking about, Dern! My baby.”

“And we’ll get him back. If we can.”

Tears threatened her eyes. She was so close to maybe learning something finally, locating the boy who’d been missing for so long. Her heart was cracking, but she couldn’t break down. Wouldn’t. She hated to admit it, but Dern was right. The police would never let her join them. No matter how she begged. But there was something she could do to help. Slowly she gathered her strength and made a long-overdue decision. Extricating herself from his embrace, she walked rapidly to the foyer and returned with her purse.

“What’s going on?”

“I think I might be able to help.” She fished inside her bag for a second, dug into a zippered pocket, then withdrew the set of keys she’d found earlier. She slapped the ring into his palm. “I found these the other day. I’m pretty sure they’re a master set of the keys to Sea Cliff. They belonged to my uncle and probably open every door.”

“How do you have them?”

“Long story. We don’t have time now. Let’s just say I found them.”

“Found them?” His eyes flickered with a dozen questions, but one side of his mouth lifted into that crooked smile she found so sexy. “Okay.” He seemed about to ask another question, then changed his mind and closed his fist around the key ring. “Thanks.”

“Just keep Reece alive so I can find Noah.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Do better than that, okay?”

His eyes flashed. Then, impulsively, he grabbed her again, pulled her close, his body fitting snugly against hers. She gasped as he kissed her. Long. Hard. His lips hot. Her breath caught in her throat as the kiss deepened, an unspoken promise. She closed her eyes and her mind to everything around them, and for a few glorious seconds, while his fingers tangled in her hair and his hips pressed hard to hers, she was lost in him and swept away from the pain of what was real.

Forbidden pleasures sprang to her mind, and for just a heartbeat she imagined what it would be like to love this man, to be with him.

But she couldn’t.

Not now . . .

Not ever.

As if he felt the shift in her emotions, he lifted his head, swore under his breath. “Damn it all to hell.” His gaze held hers for an instant; then, as swiftly as he’d caught her, he let her go. Took a quick step back. Rammed stiff fingers through his hair in frustration. “I should say I’m sorry, but I’m not,” he whispered, and she felt the heat of the moment still burning on her cheeks.

“Me neither.”

This was insanity! With everything else going on, she couldn’t let herself be distracted for even a moment. She looked away, putting some emotional distance between them just as a stern-faced deputy entered the room.

“I heard you’re with us,” he said. African American and taller than Dern by four inches, the deputy was built more like an NFL linebacker than a typical cop. His nametag read DEPUTY BENNETT RAMSEY and his expression said more loudly than words he wasn’t about to take any crap from anyone. “It’s time.”

“I’m coming, too,” Ava insisted, and glanced out the window. Dawn was approaching, the sky lightening to a gloomy gray, rain still falling from the leaden sky.

“I was told to bring only Dern,” Ramsey said firmly.

“But I know the island better than anyone! I could help. Really!” Frantically, she argued her point. “I’ve lived here most of my life and there’s a chance Reece knows where my son is!”

“Just Dern.” There was a glint of compassion in his eyes, but he stood firm.

“No, really, I have to come with you,” she insisted, frantic. The thought that she would be left behind and that somehow she would lose her chance to find Noah panicked her. If Reece was cornered and fought back, or some cop got trigger-happy . . . “Please!”

The deputy’s impenetrable expression cracked a little. “I’ll talk to the commanding officer. That’s the best I can do, ma’am,” Ramsey said, relenting a little.

“Mrs. Garrison?” Detective Snyder walked into the kitchen. With him was someone from the crime scene team. “Can I have a word?”

“I was just going to go with them.” Ava motioned toward Deputy Ramsey and Dern.

“It’s important.” His face was impassive, but there was something in Snyder’s stance, something a little more aggressive than before that made her take notice.

Dern, too, sensed it. As Ramsey shepherded him toward the back door, he held up a hand. “Just a sec.”

“I only need to speak to Mrs. Garrison,” Snyder insisted.

Ramsey had already opened the doors, the screen screeching as he pushed it out of the way, cold air sweeping through the kitchen. “If you’re going with us, you’d better come along,” he told Dern. “The sheriff doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Ava took a step toward the back door, but Dern gave a quick, short shake of his head, warning her off. “I’ll find him,” he promised as he grabbed a jacket off the back of a hook mounted near the porch. “If Reece has Noah or knows where he is, I’ll find him.”

“But—”

“Ava. Please. Trust me.” And then, before she could launch into any arguments, he was gone, through the door, the screen slapping resonantly behind him.

Ava felt a part of her leave with him.

She held tight to his promise, but she knew it could be empty. What happened in the showdown with Reece, if there was one, would be out of Dern’s control. And even though he hadn’t uttered the damning words, Ava realized Dern, like most everyone else, believed Noah was dead.

Through the window, she watched as the two men jogged toward the stable where officers, some on horses, some with dogs, others in four-wheel-drive vehicles, had gathered. Headlights glowed in the gloom while officers in rain gear, weapons visible, stood in small clusters. A few smoked, two were on cell phones, and another held three dogs on leashes.

Was it possible? After all this time, would they actually find Lester Reece on the island?

Ramsey and Dern joined the group and it looked as if quick introductions were made.

Her throat was thick, her nerves stretched to the breaking point as she thought not only might she never see her son again, but also that Dern, too, could be lost to her. Once he located Reece and brought him to justice, he would have no reason to stick around.

“Mrs. Garrison?” Snyder again. His voice a little sharper. “Would you come with me, please?”

“Of . . . of course.”

“Upstairs.”

She steeled herself at the thought that she might have to view Jewel-Anne’s body again. So far, she hadn’t witnessed anyone carrying a body bag down the stairs, so she assumed Jewel-Anne’s corpse was being checked over. The thought made her shudder.

“This way,” Snyder said as she turned at the top of the steps to head toward the wing her cousin had occupied. Instead, he led her to her own bedroom.

Why?

Then she knew. She was the primary suspect, the person who had found the body, the family member with a very sharp ax to grind. Her heart beat a little faster.

The room was disheveled, black fingerprint powder on all the surfaces, the bed pulled apart, bedding removed, the box springs and mattress separated, the mattress standing on its side near one wall.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, heart drumming. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“We wanted to ask you about this.” Snyder pointed to her bed where a reddish brown stain was visible on the box springs. Seven or eight inches long, an inch wide . . .

Dear God, what . . . ?

Her gaze moved to the mattress propped on its side, and of course it, too, held a similar stain. Obviously an object had been pushed between the two. Her pulse jumped. “What?” she murmured, a new panic surging through her blood as she got it. The stain had to be dried blood, and it was formed into the distinctive shape of a long-bladed knife. Her stomach convulsed. “God in heaven,” she whispered, and glanced back at Snyder, who was holding a plastic bag.

Inside the bag was the missing knife. Its serrated blade was sharp and deadly, smeared with blood.

Jewel-Anne’s blood!

Her knees threatened to buckle, and she had to steady herself by leaning against her dresser. Obviously the cops thought this was the weapon used to slice Jewel-Anne’s throat. Her stomach roiled, nausea bubbling up at the thought of the ugly blade carving into her cousin’s flesh. She ran into the bathroom and heaved over the toilet. Once. Twice. Her stomach cramped and tears burned in her eyes as images of her handicapped cousin being attacked tore through her mind. She retched again, her stomach empty, only foul bile spewing into the toilet bowl. Had Jewel-Anne known her attacker? Obviously the killer understood about her attachment to the stupid dolls. But who . . . ? She felt time passing as she clutched the rim of the toilet, saw beads of sweat drip from her nose into the murky water.

“Mrs. Garrison?” Snyder again. Sounding as if he were miles away when he was standing in the doorway.

Finally, her stomach calmed. After flushing the toilet, she paused at the sink, rinsed her mouth, and caught her reflection in the mirror. Ashen. Hair a mess. Eyes haunted.

Too bad.

She wasn’t guilty!

Her legs still shaky, she made her way into the bedroom and saw that Snyder’s serious partner had joined him.

“Sorry.” Ava focused on the bag he was still holding, the bloody knife visible through the plastic. “That”—she pointed to the bag—“it’s not mine. That knife . . . I don’t know how it got here, in my room.”

Lyons was obviously skeptical. “We have a few more questions for you, Mrs. Garrison. But they might be better answered at the station.”

What? No! “Wait. I . . . I can’t leave. Not now. The search party is out looking for Lester Reece and my son . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized no one was asking her permission. They actually thought she might have killed Jewel-Anne and probably the other women as well. It was all ridiculous. Why would she do such a horrid thing? Commit such gruesome, malicious murders?

Because they think you’re nuts. Homicidal. Probably suicidal as well and any other -idal there is.

Remember, Cheryl Reynolds and Evelyn McPherson knew all of your secrets. Didn’t you accuse good old Doc McPherson of having an affair with your husband? Didn’t you try to fire her? Yeah, that’s right, you did. Everyone knew how you felt about her. Weren’t you the last one to see Cheryl Reynolds alive? Maybe you said something you regretted . . . hmmm? And then there’s that sticky little matter of nearly tossing your dear cousin over the railing the night before. Everyone here at Neptune’s Gate knows how you despised her, how deep the rift between you ran, and then you found out she was Noah’s biological mother. You snapped, Ava. That’s what they all think. You lost it and became a murderous beast. And now they have the knife, the murder weapon. Face it, Ava, you’re screwed. Whoever did this was pretty clever and made sure that you would be the first and maybe only suspect.

Lester Reece, Schmester Reece, the cops and everyone else will think it’s you.

Again her stomach convulsed and she nearly dry heaved thinking how she’d been set up. Her breath was coming in short little breaths and fear crawled up her spine. This, the officers taking her to the station on the mainland, was just one more step in someone’s elaborate plan to destroy her.

Who?

Why?

“I . . .” She was going to deny everything, to spill her inner thoughts, to tell them that someone was manipulating everything that was happening to her, but she realized if she started arguing now, she would appear as paranoid as everyone claimed her to be. Both officers were staring at her, and even the tech, carefully sifting through the drawers, looked over her shoulder at her. Be cool! They’re all looking at you under a microscope, waiting for you to make a mistake! “I . . .” Clearing her throat, she met Snyder’s gaze. “I’ll get my coat.”