“Yes, unfortunately. The back of her head’s open, from a blow—or a shot maybe—and there were vultures around, like she’d been dead for a little while at least. It also looks like someone might have tried to sexually assault her.”
Or, it occurs to me for the first time, wanted to make itlookthat way.
Grimacing, Marcus turns back to Ash. “Dad, you can’t go down there. It’s a crime scene.”
“Marcus, you had one fucking year of law school,” his father snaps. “That doesn’t make you an expert.”
“Dad, he’s right,” Gabe says. “We have to all stay put and call 911.”
“I’ll do it,” I say. “Since I can describe what I saw.”
We hurry together back toward the house, where Bonnie’s waiting on the front stoop, clearly doing her best not to fall apart. And Hannah? Nowhere to be seen now.
“Have you got your phone?” I ask Gabe in a rush.
“No, it’s in the cottage.”
“Mine, too. I’ll use the landline in the den.”
He nods limply, as if he’s still trying to absorb what’s unfurling. Before we take off down the hall, he asks Bonnie to check on Henry.
“Sure thing,” she says.
The landline’s on one of the small antique side tables in the room. I grab the receiver but before calling, I turn to Gabe. “I’m just—”
“Just what?”
“Worried. What if I say something that backfires?”
He presses his finger across his lips and eyes me expectantly, as if waiting for me to elaborate.
“Gabe, she wasmurdered,” I say. “And what if it wasn’t by a stranger, but by someone in this house?”
He flinches. “Tell them what you found. And leave it at that.”
Steeling myself, I tap 9–1–1. After giving my name, I describe the situation, my voice trembling as I speak. The dispatcher runs through some questions, calmly and efficiently, and at the end I assure her that, yes, we’ll remain in the house and await the arrival of the police.
“Did they say how long it would be?” Gabe says once I disconnect. He’s been standing next to me the whole time, his brow furrowed.
“No, only that the police are being dispatched immediately.... Gabe, what could Jillian have been doing down there?”
“God knows.”
But maybeIknow. Or I could posit a theory. What if Jillian and Ash reallywerehaving an affair, and she came to the house today to see him, pulling her car into the lower part of the driveway so it wouldn’t be so obvious? What if the two of them had arranged to meet in secret by the stream?
And then what? Did they agree to leave separately so as not to be seen together, and then Jillian, the last to depart, was attacked by a stranger? Or, oh god, didAshkill her? But what would his motive be? It couldn’t have been that she was threatening to tell his wife. Could she have been making demands now that Claire was out of the picture?
I realize that I have to tell Gabe about what Marcus and I witnessed. “Gabe, there’s something I need to—”
He raises a hand, palm forward. “I know what you’re going to say. Marcus told me last night on the phone—about Dad and Jillian.”
I feel a millisecond of relief, but his knowing changes nothing about the current situation.
“Should your dad be calling a lawyer?” I ask. “I’m not accusing anyone of anything, but shouldn’t there be someone guiding us?”
Before he can respond, Marcus appears in the doorway.
“Did someone say lawyer?” he asks.
