“Well, you know some of what Erik did, it’s like he also considered making it look like a sexual assault.”
“Because of how Becca was found, partially nude,” Lily said. It sounded better than saying Becca’s pants had been yanked to her ankles.
“Yeah,” Ken said, “but the ME found no sign of it.”
A small consolation, Lily thought, that Becca hadn’t suffered that further profane indignity at least. She said, “Erik is the one who called me and asked for the passport.”
“Yeah, and he planted AJ’s laptop and cell phone at the bus station. He talked to the pilot, too. Erik and AJ are roughly the same height and build. From a distance, wearing hoodies, they might look pretty much the same to someone who didn’t see them regularly.”
“He left the charm where the police would find it after he—after he—”
“Pushed Kate to her death. Yeah.”
Lily tightened the blanket around her shoulders. “It takes my breath, what he’s done. He was as distraught, as grief stricken, as all of us were. How does someone do that?”
“It’s hard to understand, especially when you think you know somebody. Maybe he snapped, reading Jeb’s will, finding out like that, that he’d been cut off.”
Lily hated it, Ken knowing the contents of her dad’s will, something so personal to her family. But their lives would be laid bare now, fodder for the gossip mill. That was how it worked in Wyatt. “I taught him to tie his shoes,” she said softly.
Several moments passed.
Lily found Ken’s gaze again. “I was so shocked when AJ showed up at Winona’s. Wasn’t there an officer posted at his door?”
“Well, we’d executed the warrant on Ayala’s apartment by then, and we knew AJ wasn’t involved, so we pulled the officer. No one saw AJ leave.”
“Shea said no one could have stopped him if they’d tried. I just hope he hasn’t made everything worse.”
“I don’t think so. He’s back in his room; he’s seen the doc. He’s going to be okay. Shea’s with him, and one of the sergeants is there, getting their statements. Don’t worry.”
“What about Dad? How is he holding up?”
“He’s with Captain Mackie. They’re about done, too.” Ken shut off the recorder. “All of this, having y’all in, taking down your witness statements, it’s just a formality. We’ve got the picture now, or most of it, anyway.”
“It’s not a very good one, is it?” Lily clenched her teeth, refusing to give up her tears to this man. He had already seen into the darkest chamber of her family’s heart. He’d been allowed to trespass through secret-filled rooms, where it had sickened her to go. She thought of her father’s betrayal and the devastation it caused that had played such a huge role in what Erik had done. She thought of Erik’s dream. What he’d wanted was so simple—Kate and children in a yard in front of a house down the street from AJ and Shea. The four of them, good friends, raising their families together. The inheritance Erik had been promised—he would have counted on it to provide financial security for his family. But her father had jerked that away, and Becca and then Kate had threatened to expose him, and he’d snapped, as Ken said. If only her father had acknowledged Erik as his son; if only he’d openly recognized Erik as a blood relation, an Axel, and an equally revered heir—but, no. Her dad had chosen to keep Erik’s true connection to the family secret, as if he was ashamed. And Lily was awfully afraid she knew why, that it was out of deference to her. Had he thought she couldn’t handle it? Had he been afraid of her judgment?
Or was it his own judgment of himself, his own bias he couldn’t face?
“Winona—is she still here?” Lily asked Ken.
He nodded. “It’s a hell of a thing, you know—what her son has done, but she’s holding up. She’s a strong lady.”
“Yes,” Lily said. She and Win hadn’t spoken before being brought here. She couldn’t imagine the level of Win’s grief and confusion. Nor could she imagine what would come of them now, how they would go on from here. “What about Erik? He’s here, too?”
“Yeah, but he’ll probably be transported to Dallas later in the week for arraignment; the judge will read the charges against him and set bail, or not, depending. I’d say it’s likely not.”
“Can I see him?” Did she really want to? Lily wondered.
“Well, he’s asked to be left alone. He doesn’t even want to see his mom.”
Lily nodded, feeling relieved, as if of an onerous duty. She had no idea what she would say to him. I forgive you? It felt way too soon to for that.
An officer drove them back to Winona’s. Lily’s dad rode in front. Winona and Lily were in back, heads turned from each other, staring from the windows as if the scenery mattered. But there was too much baggage in the car with them, too many emotion-packed suitcases, taking up the space, all the air. Lily felt that. How overwhelming it was. She was startled when her dad turned to Winona, leaning around the passenger seat. “I’ll pay,” he said. “For a lawyer. Erik’s legal expenses. If the judge sets bail, I’ll pay it.”
“He won’t,” Winona said in a wooden voice to the window. She was hunched over; her braid was caught against the seat. Lily wanted to free it. She wanted to wind it into the coronet Winona always wore like a crown. She wanted to restore Win, her dignity, her gentle spirit.
Lily set her hand on the seat between them.
She thought her dad would turn away, but he didn’t. Neither did he say anything, not for a long time. Miles passed before he spoke again. “I’m sorry,” he said, including both Lily and Winona in his glance.
“I am leaving the ranch,” Winona said. “I will not be back. You can do what you want with the house. I don’t want it. But I will take your offer to help Erik. Yes, I will, because he is our son, we made him, we raised him, and it is only right now for us to help him the best we can. We have to try”—she faltered—“try and make—make this right.”
Lily’s throat closed. She felt Winona grasp her fingers, but she couldn’t look. She would lose it if she looked, and Win didn’t need that.
Lily drove the Jeep home. Her dad, head bent to the backrest, kept his eyes closed as if that would stop her, the interrogation that he had to know was coming, and her questions would be harder to answer by far than those the police had asked.
“How could you hide it, Dad, all these years? Never mind me. How could you do that to your own son and a woman I presume you love?”
I’ll stop this car. She was on the verge of saying it, that she’d pull over until he talked to her, but then he said, “We didn’t want to hurt either of you.” He straightened, bent his head to his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Did you think I’d be mad? Even if I had been, it would have been on Mama’s account, and I would have gotten over it. You must know that much about me, Dad. It’s not as if I’m so judgmental. After Mama died, I would have been glad to know you’d found someone. Especially Winona. She was like a mother to me. You know that.”