Page 97 of The Couple's Secret
He nodded. “It was stupid. I should have left it.”
“Stupid because Riley found it?”
A fresh wave of sobs erupted from him. “I thought I hid it where she’d never find it but she went back to the house for the cat’s meds and her toys. Those stupid fucking toys. Two of them got stuck between my dresser and the wall. We have a dozen of those dumbass fake mice but she just had to try to get to those. Never for a second did I think she would try to move the dresser herself.”
“But she did,” Josie said.
His chest heaved as he struggled to get his breath under control. “She could only move it enough to fit her arm behind it, but it was enough for her sleeve to catch on the tape. I used duct tape to attach the cloth pouch with Cora’s jewelry in it to the back of the dresser. She knew it was her mom’s right away. When she came back to Hol’s, she woke me up. She was a mess.”
“You fought?”
“I didn’t want to kill her but she didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand. Wouldn’t listen to me. She was going to go to the police. I tried to tell her it was a mistake, that Cora was never supposed to be killed, but she didn’t care.”
“You injected her with insulin?” Josie asked.
“I had no choice. It was the only way. I asked her to sit down and try to compose herself so we could talk things over while I grabbed her a drink.”
“You weren’t getting her a drink.”
“No, I… I knew she wasn’t going to listen to reason. I sat next to her on the bed. Kept her talking. She was so upset and she’d been drinking already. She didn’t even realize what I was doing. I told her I’d go to the police, confess everything if she just gave me some time. A few hours. She promised me she wouldn’t tell Zane or Hol, that she’d let me do it. She wanted to get away from me and I let her go because I didn’t think she’d get very far. I didn’t want to do it. Didn’t want to kill her. It was so bad. So bad.” His voice went up two octaves. “It was like losing Cora all over again.”
Josie managed to suppress a cringe as he fell apart before her eyes again. Before she knew about the true extent of his relationship with Cora, she’d wondered why he had started a relationship with Riley. He had pursued her, according to Zane. It didn’t seem healthy, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that it had been an organic thing. That he’d fallen in love with her and just couldn’t fight the pull, but this confirmed for her that the fractures in Jackson’s soul that allowed him to justify the most horrific and despicable acts ran deeper than she imagined. Riley had just been a facsimile of Cora.
A replacement. A disposable replacement.
The exhilaration of coming up with theories, developing a plan to test them out, and eliciting a confession wore off quickly, replaced by bitter disappointment. One of the silver linings of her job was that sometimes, she was able to help get justice for people who were wronged. Certainly Tobias and Cora had been wronged. They definitely hadn’t deserved to die but neither had they been innocent. Solving their case didn’t bring the usual satisfaction. At least she’d know that she’d played a part in getting justice for Riley.
Hours later, by the time Jackson had finished writing out his statement, reviewing and signing it, Josie only cared about one thing: getting home and laying eyes on Wren.
Fifty-Four
Two Weeks Later
“Mom, I’m not walking down the aisle. This isn’t a wedding!” Josie complained.
Shannon shoved a bouquet of flowers into Josie’s hand and circled her, fussing with her dress and her hair. “You have to get to the front somehow.”
“I know that,” Josie said. “But I don’t have to do it in a bridal procession. I wanted small and intimate.”
Shannon tucked a loose tendril of hair behind Josie’s ear. “You look stunning.”
From the other side of the French doors that separated the lobby from the main room, Josie heard talking and laughing and somehow, above it all, her husband’s deep, rich voice, like her own personal siren song. She couldn’t see him now because Shannon wouldn’t let her peek through the doors but they’d gotten dressed at home so she already knew he looked gorgeous in a light brown suit that went perfectly with his hazel eyes.
From behind her came a loud snort, then Wren’s amused voice. “You are totally walking down the aisle.”
Josie turned around and her breath caught in her throat. As much as she enjoyed looking at Noah, there was nothing more beautiful than one of Wren’s genuine smiles. Josie mentally hoarded them like the little Wren addict she was, counting each one as a win in the battle against Wren’s grief. The battle for her soul. That was the weighty responsibility that Dex had given her.
Things had improved a bit in the last two weeks. The two of them had had an actual moment. One evening after dinner, Wren presented Josie with a wad of cash. “To pay for your new work shirts,” she had said nervously. When Josie asked where she’d gotten it, Wren explained that she’d drawn several kids at school as superheroes and charged them a couple of dollars each. Her peers had been far more excited about the idea than she anticipated so she’d earned quite a bit. Wren still wouldn’t share her work with Josie, but she had allowed a brief hug. Josie had floated around on a giant cloud of euphoria for days.
“Hey, you okay?” Wren said.
Josie blinked. Shannon was assessing Misty now and shoving another bouquet into Erica’s arms, and there was Erica’s grandmother, Miranda, sprung from her assisted living facility for the day, looking positively radiant in a beautiful, flowing lavender dress with her long white hair cascading down her back. She kept her hand tucked in the crook of Erica’s elbow. Miranda lived with aphasia which meant that she couldn’t speak. With therapy and assistive devices, she’d come a long way, but whenever they took her out—which they did as often as possible—she stuck close to Erica. Honestly, the two of them couldn’t get enough of one another.
Miranda saw Josie staring and gave her a bright smile. Then she winked.
Dammit all to hell.
The tears came so hot and fast, Josie had no chance of stopping them. She spun back around but not before Wren said, in an awestruck voice, “Oh my God. Are you crying?”
