All the Dark Places(12)

“So what the hell happened?” Laken asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I have no idea who would want to hurt Jay.” I swing to face them. “But it’s all my fault.” Sobs burst through my clamped lips.

Kim sits up at attention. “What? No, Molly. How could it be your fault?”

I wipe tears from my cheeks. “I was drinking too much. I just about passed out in our bed.” My gaze meets first Kim, then Laken. “I don’t even remember you guys leaving. I didn’t know what to say when the detectives asked me about it.”

“You were pretty trashed—”

Kim’s mouth pops open. “Lake!”

“I didn’t mean to imply it was her fault. That’s not what I meant.”

I shake my head. “It’s all right. But if I hadn’t been drinking, I might’ve heard something. I might’ve been able to help Jay, at least call 911.” I drop my arms to my sides. “I slept through my husband’s murder. I’ll never forgive myself.” I walk to the window, lean on the sill, and look down on the gray evening, watch the traffic crawl by under the streetlights. The story of my life, letting people down.

Kim’s arm steals around my waist. “You got your period?” she asks quietly.

“Right before the party. Jay found me crying in the bathroom.” I take a deep breath.

“We figured,” Laken says as she stands on my other side, rests a hand on my shoulder. “We knew you wouldn’t be drinking so much if there was a chance.”

“Another twelve thousand dollars down the drain,” I say. Then it dawns on me that Jay and I will never raise a child together. We’ll never have another chance. We’d been in our third cycle of IVF, and we were so hopeful. “Jay gave me everything, and I couldn’t even do the one thing he really wanted.”

My friends lead me back to the bed, and we sit on the side.

“Oh, Molly, that wasn’t your fault. Jay never blamed you, you know that,” Kim says.

I nod, wipe my sleeve over my eyes. No, he didn’t. Jay understood everything. Knew everything about me and loved me anyway. And now he’s gone.





CHAPTER 8


Rita


MONDAY MORNING, CHIEF BOB MURPHY ASSEMBLES THE TEAM IN the conference room. We’re like those proverbial sardines in here as this is a complicated case, lots of forensics involved. At least we’ll stay warm. And someone, thank God, has seen fit to bring in takeout coffee and pastries instead of the usual station coffee and vending machine fare. Chase and I stand against the back wall, hot paper cups in hand, while the chief and a couple of uniforms are busy at the front of the room.

“You want to attend the autopsy?” I whisper to Chase. “Susan said it was at ten. We should be out of here by then.”

Chase swallows, eyes on his coffee. “If you want me to.”

I shrug. “It’d be good if one of us was there. Since I’ve seen my share, thought you might like the experience.”

“Like the experience?”

“You know what I mean. It’s not that bad. You’ll be okay.” Shit, Rita, I think to myself. Didn’t he just tell me yesterday that blood made him woozy? I sigh. Well, he’s in the wrong line of work. He’ll have to get over it. Still. I adjust my shirt collar. “I can go,” I say.

“No.” He clears his throat. “I’ll do it.”

“Great. I want to run by Dr. Westmore’s office after this. Then we can both go and see if Mrs. Bradley’s neighbor is home.”

Chase pulls on his tie knot. “Yeah. Okay.”

The chief’s looking a little gray this morning. He and I go back a long way, back to being rookies with the Boston PD. It was tough back in the day. There weren’t a lot of women in the department who weren’t secretaries. But Bob was one of the good guys. He treated me like any other officer, and that was what I was looking for. Our shared history and friendship included his wife, Deb, and my ex-husband, Ed. Bob still sees Ed now and then. They’ll meet for a beer or go to a Red Sox game together. Then I have to hear all about it from Bob until I have to tell him to shut his big mouth. Ed and I have been divorced for years after a three-year marriage that didn’t suit either of us. Deb died of breast cancer right after Bob took the job out here in Graybridge. Six months later, he asked me if I was interested in making a change, and I jumped at the chance to be a detective in a smaller department where there wasn’t so much jostling for advancement. Besides, the grind of the city was starting to wear on me, and a new challenge was just what I needed.

Bob clears his throat, looks down at an open folder. He’s been tired lately, and it looks like he’s gained some weight over the holidays, which he doesn’t need. I don’t feel as old as Bob looks. Really. And I know I look a helluva lot younger. People are surprised when they find out we’re nearly the same age. Makes me worry about him.

“Okay, people,” he says, and wipes his mouth with his hand. “We’ve got a lot to go over.” He runs through department business but leaves the Bradley case to me. “Rita?”

I set my coffee on the table and walk to the front of the room.





CHAPTER 9


Molly


IT’S MORNING, AND JAY ISN’T HERE, WILL NEVER BE HERE AGAIN. I DIDN’T sleep all night, just rested in bed listening to the sounds of the city and crying until my pillow was a soggy mess. I’m still wearing the leggings and sweater I put on yesterday to talk to the detectives.