Truth is for the brave, and I’m not sure I fall into that category anymore.
“The affair was real. Your father was cheating on your mother with Hillary.” His eyes fill with pity. My ears seem to ring with his last word. I sit perfectly still, gripping the chair arms tight. I close my eyes and try to understand how the lies of everyone I ever trusted had come back to bite me again.
22
“THEY LIED. THEY LIED TO ME,” I repeat, this time just trying to be certain that I heard him right. Then I turn on Mr. Masters. “You lied to me.”
When Mr. Masters doesn’t say any more, I jump up from my chair and hold my hand out for the file. The lying isn’t the worst thing that happened here. If what he’s saying is true, then Daddy betrayed our family.
Mr. Masters just looks at me. He doesn’t move. “Miss R—”
I rip the file out of his hand. My fingers have gone so cold that I almost drop it. My ears ring strangely loudly and I almost wonder if other people can hear them. What Masters is saying doesn’t make any sense. Not Daddy. He wouldn’t do something like this to us … would he?
No. If I’m supposed to believe, I have to see proof of it for myself.
As I open the folder on the desk and my fingers move, my body starts functioning at a more normal rhythm again. “Why this Hillary person?”
“Hillary Vanderstaff.” Mr. Masters’s voice is barely a whisper as I flip through, looking for a victim profile sheet that bears her name. “I don’t know why. She was very beautiful.”
Jordan turns his eyes on Mr. Masters, his expression reflecting a darkness that surprises me. “You’ve been lying about him cheating for over a decade. Why would you cover for him like that?”
“Her father asked me to stick to his story long ago. I assumed that Amy had agreed it was the best choice. It wasn’t my business to decide otherwise. Telling Riley the truth now is not a choice I make lightly.” Mr. Masters draws himself up to his full height and I can hear a hint of the courtroom theatrics come back into his tone. “She says she wants the truth. In order to have any chance at finding it, she needs all the facts.”
I finally locate the correct grouping of papers and draw them out. The picture attached is different from the one I’d seen online. She’s beautiful here, smiling and vibrant. Farther down the sheet, I find a paragraph outlining the evidence of their affair, and my heart sinks. They’ve listed out dates, times, and lengths of many phone calls; receipts of purchase; and a catalog of various gifts. And at the very bottom, it lists twenty-two letters between them and the words copies attached.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I flip to the attached papers. The first is written in flowery feminine writing and I deliberately don’t read a word. When I move on to the next one, one glance tells me everything I need to know. I don’t want to actually read anything my father sent to his mistress. My stomach sinks and I close the file. There is no doubt. That is Daddy’s handwriting. I’d know that better than anyone.
Apparently, I wasn’t the first girl he’d written letters to.
Handing the file back to Mr. Masters, I fight to keep my voice steady. “How can this possibly help Daddy now?”
It’s clear from the look in Masters’s eyes that he’s having second thoughts about telling me. He looks like he wishes he could make this all better, but he can’t.
He massages his forehead with his fingers. “I’ve been wondering for a long time if this affair could give us proof of innocence instead of proof of guilt. Hillary was the final victim back then. If they were together during either of the other murders, maybe we can find some kind of documentation to provide him with an alibi.”
I frown and walk back over to slump down in my old seat. “I can’t believe that if she’d been with him that he wouldn’t have mentioned this sooner. We’re talking about his life here.”
“Your father’s family life was not—healthy—when he was growing up. He cares very deeply about protecting this family ideal that he believes you have, maybe more so than any of us know. When I found out about the affair—” Mr. Masters clears his throat, but I can see a flash of fear in his eyes before he continues. “Admitting to the affair himself during the trial was just something he was unwilling to do.”
“He never admitted it?” My voice is so soft I see both Jordan and Mr. Masters lean forward to hear it.
Mr. Masters sighs, looking both smaller and infinitely sad. My stomach roils in fear of hearing any more things I’m not prepared for tonight. “You’ve seen the file. The prosecution had compelling evidence that your father had an affair, and not a short-lived one. They didn’t need David to admit anything.”