Chris felt a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing it would be difficult to prove murder now that Abe had been cremated. But even so, he had to know who killed Abe and why. His gut was telling him that it was linked to the baseball team, but he couldn’t connect the dots.
Chris moved papers on the desk to find the phone, but didn’t see one, also consistent with his theory. The killers could have taken the phone, worried that it contained information or phone calls that implicated them. The police wouldn’t have taken a personal effect, and the funeral home would have let Jamie know by now. Chris’s best guess was that Abe’s phone was in the hands of whoever had killed him, so cruelly.
Chris became aware that he was taking too long, so he picked up the laptop and gathered the Wyoming photos, taking pictures of them for later. They showed a scenic array of mountains, a lovely home in the woods, then Abe’s parents and siblings, Jamie, Courtney, Rick, and their respective spouses.
Chris knew they would be grieving for years to come. He made a silent vow to the murdered teacher.
I’ll get your murderers, Abe.
And I’m sorry I didn’t get them before they got you.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Mindy glanced at the kitchen clock, on edge. It was 11:15, and she couldn’t wait for Evan and Paul to get home. When she’d awakened this morning, having overslept through yoga, there’d been a note from Paul saying he and Evan had gone to play golf. She’d texted back, come home ASAP, family meeting, and he had texted back, will be home after nine holes.
She paced, getting angrier. She thought that Evan had withdrawn the money and spent it on Amanda, but it was still possible that Paul had, on his new mistress. She was going to confront them both at the same time. She wanted the truth to come out, unvarnished and unprepared for, once and for all.
She checked her phone, which showed one of the naked pictures she’d found in Evan’s phone. There were more than one girl because they had pierced nipples, weird body jewelry, and tattoos, which she thought was disgusting. Plus you had to be eighteen to get a tattoo, so Mindy had no idea what was going on in the world anymore.
She heard the sound of Paul’s car in the driveway and reminded herself to stay in control. She didn’t want to fall into the Hysterical Mom category, in which Paul and Evan were so willing to place her. They acted like she was the numbskull in the house, and she was finally over it. She hadn’t had anything to drink, no G&T yet or wine. Deep inside, she was angriest at herself, for medicating herself with alcohol. For telling herself she had a happy marriage and perfect son, when she had neither. For not knowing what was happening under her own roof. That had to end, right now.
Mindy stormed out of the kitchen just as Paul and Evan entered the house, flush, happy, and sweaty in their golf clothes. “Boys, in the family room!”
Evan’s smile faded. “Mom?”
“Honey?” Paul did a double-take.
“We’re having a meeting in the family room.” Mindy stalked into the family room, seeing it with new eyes—a cheery red couch with matching side chairs, a beautiful glass coffee table, three walls of eggshell white, and a red accent wall. She had decorated it herself, but right now, she wanted to set it on fire. Mindy pointed to the couch. “Sit down, both of you.”
“Honey?” Paul said, in wonderment as he took a seat.
“Mom, you okay?” Evan asked, mystified, sitting next to him.
“No, I’m not okay, and I’ll tell you why.” Mindy scrolled to the saved photos on her phone, held up her phone to face them, and started an XXX-rated slideshow for her son and her husband. “Evan. What in God’s holy name are these photographs doing on your phone? Who is Amanda? Why are there so many different ones? And are you texting the photos to anybody else, because if you are, Heaven help you, I am going to rearrange your very handsome face.”
“Oh no!” Evan’s eyes flew open.
“Oh no,” Paul said, aghast.
“Oh, yes,” Mindy corrected. “And Evan, before you answer, I also want to know who you’re buying presents for, and what you’re doing with the money, because you’ve withdrawn ten thousand dollars from your account over the past three months. So either you’re buying drugs, buying women, or buying tattoos—”
“I can explain, Mom—” Evan interrupted, panicky, but Mindy wasn’t finished venting yet.
“Evan, why are these girls sending you these photos?” Mindy stood above Paul and Evan, folding her arms, and she had never felt more powerful in her life. “Do you ask or do they offer? If you sent them to anybody, you’re transmitting child pornography, do you realize that? You can go to jail! Everybody you sent them to can go to jail, if they send it on. If you have an explanation, you better start explaining right now!”
“I can explain,” Paul interjected, his tone quiet, and Mindy wheeled around to him.
“Paul! Don’t tell me you knew what this is about! If you knew and didn’t tell me then you’re going to have more to answer for than Carole’s real birthday, because the one you told me was a lie!”
Paul grimaced. “Honey, I didn’t know about the pictures—”
Evan interjected, “Mom, Dad didn’t know about the pictures, he didn’t know about any of it—”
Paul shook his head. “I knew about the money, Evan. I can explain about the money—”
“Dad, you don’t have to.” Evan put a hand on Paul’s arm, and Mindy could see they were trying to protect each other. Boys will be boys, covering each other’s asses against Mean Mommy, The Disciplinarian, the Mother of Us All, the Boss Bitch.
“No more games, either of you!” Mindy barked. “I want the truth and I want it now.”
Paul sighed, then said, “Honey, as I started to say, I can explain about the money, it went to pay for—”
“I got a girl pregnant,” Evan said, finishing the sentence.
Mindy almost fell over. She wasn’t sure she had even heard him right. “You what?”
Evan reddened, flustered. “Mom, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. It was an accident. I always use protection, I do. I know you told me, I know all about it. But this one time I didn’t, she was drinking, and I was drinking, and it was legit consent, but we didn’t use protection, and then she told me she was pregnant and she wanted to, well end the pregnancy—”
“An abortion?” Mindy groaned, stricken. She had a million thoughts at once. An abortion, a baby. Evan got a girl pregnant. A baby had been aborted. Her son’s baby. Her grandchild. It was too much, and she sank into the couch opposite them, suddenly powerless, helpless, useless.
“Mom, don’t be upset, really, it’s all fine now, we took care of it, that’s what the money was for.” Evan leaned forward urgently. “When it happened, when she told me, I went to Dad and I told him that the girl didn’t want the baby. Believe me, I didn’t have a choice even if I wanted a baby, she wasn’t about to have it and neither were her parents—”