Page 36 of The Premonition at Withers Farm
“My husband doesn’t keep secrets from me.” Molly immediatelybit her tongue. Famous last words of an ignorant wife, not to mention it wouldn’t take much digging for the police to find out how disconnected she and Trent had become since the last miscarriage.
“We will need you to stay in the area, ma’am,” Detective Carter instructed.
Molly eyed him. “I’ve nowhere else to go anyway.” She struggled to maintain her composure as her emotions swung between shock and irritation at the conjectures being made. “January Rabine,” she stated, trying out the name.
Detective Carter’s eyes sharpened.
Molly met his look straight on. “I saw her. I saw her dead body in the ditch. Trent didn’t do that. He had nothing to do with it, and if January is related to him, it’s circumstantial.”
Circumstantial. She’d read enough crime novels to know that word was filled with guts and power when trying to argue innocence in a case.
Detective Carter cleared his throat. “Well, we’ll see, Mrs. Wasziak.”
“Molly. My mother-in-law is Mrs. Wasziak.”
“All right, Molly.” Detective Carter turned, as did Officer Hammish.
“When will Trent be released?” Molly asked after them.
Detective Carter turned back, his face expressionless. “He’s not under arrest, ma’am—Molly—just being questioned.”
“What was January Rabine even doing here?” Sid came over as soon as Molly called. Her two younger kids in tow, they were tossing a football back and forth in the yard as Sid stepped over a pile of books on the living room floor.
“I don’t know.” Molly rocked back and forth on the couch, holding her coffee mug between her hands as if the liquid itself would magically erase today.
“This is so weird.” Sid plopped down next to her, the couchsagging. “She’s a distant cousinandthey found her body down the road from your place?”
Molly took a sip. It was hot. Her tongue stung. “Too coincidental. If Trent killed someone, why would he drop the body at a neighbor’s farm?” Her question was rhetorical and intended to imply the ludicrous nature of the suspicion.
“He was interrupted?” Sid answered anyway.
“Sidney.”
Sid had the decency to look appalled that she had disassociated so much from Trent that she was solving the crime instead of defending her friend. “Sorry. I was just—”
Molly leaped from the couch. “I need to find the Wasziak family tree. Trent’s mom gave me one a while back. Who the heck is January Rabine?”
“She’s very dead, that’s for sure,” Sid joked inappropriately. “And why didn’t Trent recognize her when he found her?”
Molly stood in the middle of the room at a complete loss. Boxes were stacked on boxes. She had no idea where she’d put the family tree before they moved, let alone what box it was in now. “I need the family tree,” she repeated, ignoring the blaring question from Sid.
“Maybe it’s online?” Sid offered. “Or call Trent’s mom?”
“She’s in Greece with Trent’s dad right now. Fortieth wedding anniversary trip, remember?” Molly retrieved her phone and ran a quick search on the internet. It was amazing how many Wasziaks there were in the world. “Trent’s mom mentioned once that Trent’s grandfather’s name was Gerald. That’s about all I know.”
Sid peered over her shoulder. “Try that site.” She pointed to a genealogy site, and within a moment, a Wasziak family tree popped onto the screen. “There. Gerald.”
“Looks like the main family tree is here,” Molly muttered. She followed the names. “Trent being the only child in his family, his dad and his grandfather, Gerald. Gerald had three boys. Trent’s dad and his two uncles.”
Sid followed the tree with the tip of her finger. “Right, and the one uncle, Roger, married and had a daughter, who was the only female cousin. Tiffany Wasziak, and her married name of—there! Rabine!”
“Whose daughter is January,” Molly finished. “So, January is what? A second cousin once removed?”
“I dunno.” Sid shrugged. “I can’t ever remember how that cousin-to-relative ratio goes.”
Molly tabbed to another screen and typedJanuary Rabine, Artesia, New Mexicoin the search box. Soon some matches appeared. Mostly old news articles from high school track teams. “She must have been a runner.”
Sid squeezed in closer to see the year January graduated. “My gosh, she was only twenty when she was killed.”
