Save Her Soul (Detective Josie Quinn #9)(102)
“I’m sorry,” Josie said.
Tears glistened in Marisol’s eyes. “Vera was my friend. I know it sounds stupid, but she was a good friend to me. We cooked up this plan. We were stupid and young, and I was scared shitless. But I knew that if we pulled it off, Vera would take good care of the baby, and she did. She was a wonderful mother. Much better than I would have been. At least until Beverly got a little older and started to act out.”
“Vera got frustrated and called you,” Josie said. “She wanted you to take Beverly.”
Connie took a step closer to Marisol, staring into her friend’s face as though she were a complete stranger. “You did all of this?” she asked incredulously.
Ignoring her, Marisol sniffed and addressed Josie. “I don’t know if she was serious about that or if she was just venting but yeah. I told her there was no way. We couldn’t undo what we’d done. We couldn’t just come clean. I offered her more money. I was able to funnel money to her for years until Beverly pushed her down the steps. Kurt gave me an allowance for spa treatments, clothes, getting my hair done, stuff like that. I cut back on a lot of things and gave the cash to Vera. Then she got hooked on pills and there was never enough money for her. She wouldn’t leave me alone and then Kurt—fucking pervert Kurt—met Beverly across the street from that old theater. She worked at some pizza place or something.”
“It was an ice cream shop,” Josie said.
Marisol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. That was his MO though. He’d go to these shitty eating spots where college girls would be working and he’d pick them up, have a little fun with them and move on. Except Beverly wasn’t a college kid.”
“She looked like one,” Josie said.
Marisol nodded. “Yeah. She did. Anyway, I found out about it. I knew about all his girls. I tried to keep tabs. I was waiting for a good blackmail opportunity, but it never seemed right.”
Connie’s hands shot out, pushing Marisol violently. Stumbling back, Marisol nearly went over the ledge. Her feet scrabbled to gain purchase, the mud disappearing beneath her in rapid fashion. Josie leapt toward her, falling onto her stomach, and grabbing both of Marisol’s wrists. The stiches in her leg burned. “Help me,” she shouted to Gretchen.
Gretchen knelt on the ground, trying to find a place on the ledge that wouldn’t give way and reached over, helping Josie to pull Marisol back onto the ledge. Once she was safely back over, Marisol sat on her rear, chest heaving. She glared at Connie. “What is your problem?”
Connie pointed an accusing finger at her. “My problem? My problem is that you’re a lying, conniving bitch with no backbone!”
“Oh piss off, Connie, with your perfect marriage and your perfect kids and your charitable foundation. You make me sick. Always judging everything.”
Josie and Gretchen stood, brushing the mud from their jeans, positioning themselves closer to Connie in case she tried to knock Marisol into the water again. Josie tried to ignore the pain in her thigh.
Hysterical laughter bubbled up from Connie’s throat. “Me? Judging you? You gave your kid up. You covered up her murder! You slept with Silas.”
“You slept with Silas too.”
Connie shook her head as if to shake off the accusation. “You did all this and then you used my foundation to keep up the lie. That could ruin our lives if it gets out!”
Marisol heaved herself to her feet. “You’re the one talking about going to the police. Well, here we are! With the police.”
“You’re a criminal, Mar. You could have left Kurt decades ago. Instead, you let him take advantage of girl after girl. You let him beat you. You let him sleep with your own daughter!”
“I didn’t let him beat me. Jeez, Connie. Here you go again, judging the rest of us through the lens of your perfect, easy life. You think it’s a simple thing to divorce someone who has nearly killed you on more than one occasion? And for your information, I didn’t let Kurt sleep with Beverly!” Marisol shouted. “It just happened, and I confronted him. I never told him who she was or how I even knew her. I just said I’d seen them together and that I’d followed her and found out she was a high school student. We had the fight to end all fights. He broke my wrist. I knew he wasn’t going to stop seeing her and the whole thing was just too gross—”
Connie said, “So you drank until you forgot about it?”
“No, I asked Vera to intervene, to talk to Beverly.”
“But Beverly was already furious with Vera, resentful,” Josie cut in. “She thought Vera was hiding her father’s identity from her.”
“Well, she was,” Marisol said. “But yeah, Beverly wasn’t about to listen. Then she got pregnant. Vera and I were trying to figure out what to do. I knew that Kurt would not want that baby. He never wanted children. I knew it would end in disaster. We didn’t know what to do and then he killed her. Vera ran off. She came to me. She was terrified and upset. A complete mess. She wanted to go to the police.”
“But you convinced her not to.”
“I couldn’t risk it. What if my secret came out?”
“Vera had brought Beverly up as her own daughter,” Josie said. “She just went along with it?”
“Not at first,” Marisol said. “It took a lot of convincing to get her to go along with my plan, but she did. I told her that Kurt would kill us both if we tried going to the police—or if she went to the police without me, he’d bury her, literally and figuratively. I offered her a life of luxury. All she had to do was shut up, take my money, sit on her ass with her cat, and watch TV.”