“There’s a security camera on the cabin?” I ask. First I’ve heard of it.
“Yeah, we didn’t know either. It’s one of those pen-sized cameras that only the people who installed it know about,” Matt explains.
“How did you find them?” I ask.
“From me,” a voice says from the doorway. I turn to look and instinctively stand up. “Hello, son.”
“Mom,” I reply flatly.
“Mom? Marcia is your mom?” Layne asks.
My gaze snaps to Layne. “How do you know her?”
“She’s my boss at the law firm, or she was before I came down here, anyway. She’s your mother?” Layne asks again, her eyes darting between my mom and me. “Marcia, how could you never have told me?”
“Layne, you, Ace, and I need to have a long talk when we’re finished here. For now, we need to work with Detective Ledger on this case,” Marcia replies.
Matt redirects our attention to the television again and asks us to watch the tape. A figure moves toward the house through the darkness in the backyard. Once the figure gets close enough to the camera, the infrared kicks in, picking up the close proximity, and a face is clearly visible. The garbage cans are opened, newspapers and plastic jugs are removed, then dry leaves are piled on top. What appears to be a can of paint thinner is used to saturate the pile of garbage and the side of the house. It clearly soaks the ground around the garbage cans before the match is lit and thrown onto the pile.
The fire instantly lights up the area enough that the camera clearly picks up the perpetrator’s face.
“Margot,” I state disbelievingly. “She really did this. I suspected her from the beginning, but part of me just couldn’t believe she’d do something this stupid. This is stalker-crazy.”
“I’m sharing this with you as a friend. You know this isn’t standard protocol, but since we have her dead to rights, there’s not much more to investigate. A warrant will be issued for her arrest and we’ll go pick her up soon, but I wanted to tell you first since she’s River’s mother.
“Ace, she’ll be charged with felony arson and attempted murder. It’ll be up to the DA if they pursue the attempted murder charge. Her lawyer will no doubt argue that she didn’t know Layne was inside, but that’ll come later. Either way, she’ll be sent away for a long time,” Matt warns. “I know she’s been out of your life for a while, but I don’t know how you feel about all this.”
Funny he said that, because I don’t know how I feel about all this either.
My gaze floats to my mother. “If it hadn’t been her, would you have been so quick to turn in the video and prosecute?”
“Of course I would, Ace. Anyone who intentionally tries to burn down a house is not fit to be a member of society. She’s too dangerous and erratic, and if she’s allowed to continue, it could be River’s life in danger next time.”
As much as I hate to admit it, she has a valid point. She’s been kept away from River for a reason.
Even if it wasn’t initially by my hand.
On the drive back home, Layne and I are completely silent. I’m still reeling from seeing Margot caught on camera and struggling with how River will handle growing up with the knowledge that her mother is in prison. In this small town, she’ll have no way to escape it. The stigma of being Margot’s daughter will affect her regardless of how I try to shield her from it.
I can’t even begin to guess why Layne is silent. Maybe she’s shocked to learn who my mother is. Maybe she’s more shocked from the video recording of Margot setting the house on fire. When I try to focus on what Layne is going through, my mind wanders back to my daughter and her future. It’s a never-ending loop.
As if on autopilot, my truck pulls into the driveway and I have little recollection of anything I’ve passed in the last several miles. After I turn off the truck, I finally look over at Layne, but she’s already getting out of the truck, moving robotically toward the door. Seeing her in distress pulls me out of my own head somewhat and I rush to her side. After I lace our fingers together and squeeze, she finally looks up at me.
“We’ll get through this together,” I assure her. And myself. She nods and simply gives me a small, sad smile that in no way brightens the dimmed light in her eyes.
When we step inside the house, I immediately know something is off. Something is wrong. Layne feels it, too, and her eyes dart around the room as she takes mental notes of what’s missing.
All of Zoe’s belongings are gone. There’s no trace that she’s ever been here.
Layne rushes straight ahead to the kitchen table and snatches up a sheet of paper.
“What does it say?” I ask, steeling myself for the bad news that’s sure to follow.
“It says she’s changed her mind about the adoption.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Layne