Page 81 of The Couple's Secret
He shook his head again, as if having some kind of internal argument with himself, before hoisting himself up into the truck bed again. “You think it was Hollis.”
Forty-Four
“We don’t think anything,” Josie said. “That’s why we’re asking you.”
Grabbing a sleek wooden cabinet, he muscled it toward the tailgate. “Will you even believe me if I tell you it was my dad? ’Cause it seems like you’re just looking for a reason to accuse Hollis of something from back then since you can’t pin anything on him from now.”
“We’re not trying to pin anything on anyone,” said Gretchen. “We’re asking you what you heard on the day Gabrielle died.”
He leaned his arm on top of the cabinet. “Fine. I heard my dad. The two of them were arguing, just like always. Then it got quiet. I waited to see if they’d start again but they didn’t. Instead, Dad started yelling, freaking out. He was talking to someone else. I realized later he’d called 911. That’s what I remember. What are you trying to do here? It sounds like you’re trying to manufacture some drama about the past instead of dealing with what’s happening in the here and now.”
“We’re gathering information,” Gretchen said.
He scoffed. Then he was back on the ground, maneuvering the cabinet off the tailgate. The wind picked up again, gaining force as it rushed into the garage bay and back out, nearly knocking his hat off. He put it back in place. “Well, that’s all I’ve got for you.”
“Did you ever talk to your dad about what happened that day?” Josie asked.
“Why would I?”
“Did you ever witness your dad being physically abusive to any of his partners?”
“No,” Jackson answered. “I never saw him act that way. That wasn’t really his style anyway.”
“What was his style?”
“What are you— You do realize that my dad is a murder victim, right? You’re supposed to be figuring out who killed him and Cora.”
“To do that, we need to build a complete picture of who he was as a person,” Josie said. “Tell us about your dad. What did you mean that physical abuse wasn’t his style?”
“He was more… manipulative.”
“In what way?” asked Gretchen.
He draped his arm over the top of the cabinet. It was tall and narrow with a shiny mahogany surface and a domed lid. Below that were two sets of double doors with dainty brass knobs. A crank jutted out from one side. Josie frowned at the keyhole inches below where Jackson’s hand dangled from the lid.
“One of the things him and Gabby argued about was her job at the daycare. He wanted her to quit. Don’t ask me why ’cause I don’t know. I was twelve. All I can tell you is what I overheard. One day she accused him of purposely getting her fired from the daycare so she’d be forced to stay home. At the time, I thought maybe she was mixed-up but as an adult? It made sense. A lot of times, if he didn’t get his way, he’d do something sneaky. Like one time Gabby was away on a girls’ trip with some friends, and he called her and told her Zane had a really high fever that wouldn’t break. Dad wouldn’t let her talk to Zane. Probably ’cause he wasn’t sick. When Dad told her he was taking Zane to the ER, Gabby felt so worried and so guilty, she just came home. When she got back, Dad told her the fever had broken and Zane was feeling better. She was pissed and accused him of making the whole thing up—which he had.”
Gretchen asked, “Did he do things like that to Cora?”
Josie edged closer to the cabinet so she could get a better look at the keyhole.
“I don’t know,” Jackson said. “I wasn’t living there when they got together. You’d have to ask Zane.”
“Ask me what?”
A scowl darkened Jackson’s face as his brother joined them. He was in khakis and an At Your Disposal polo shirt. His eyes were bloodshot. The bruising beneath them had faded to a light purplish red. His sandy hair was mussed from the wind.
“Did Dad do sneaky shit to Cora?” Jackson asked.
Zane stared at him, unmoving. Gone was the anger and irritation that had colored their previous interactions. In its place was suspicion. They held eye contact, neither of them moving or speaking. The silence grew thick and awkward.
Then Zane’s eyes dropped to the cabinet. He walked over to it and ran a finger across the keyhole. Jackson’s hand curled into a fist. That was when Josie realized why it kept drawing her attention.
“It takes a skeleton key,” she said.
“Yeah,” Jackson said tightly. “We have it. This belongs to a recent client of ours. We’re selling it for them.”
Zane moved around the side opposite Jackson and ran his hand along the back of the cabinet. A moment later, he held up a small envelope. Tape hung from its edges. He opened it and plucked the little key from inside before handing it to Josie. It was silver and shiny, about the same size as the one they’d found in Cora’s purse. The head was a circle with a V inside of it. Josie turned it over in her palm and looked back at the cabinet. Just as she’d thought the first time she had seen it—it was an antique phonograph cabinet.
