Page 90 of The Sister's Curse
We reassembled down the hall, in a group of chairs before windows overlooking the parking lot. I didn’t know how much of our discussion Mason would understand, but I wanted to keep my aspersions on his father’s character away from his ears. I knew firsthand that it was a terrible thing for a child’s vision of their father to be punctured.
I plunged in. “Jeff and his friends were suspects in the disappearance of a girl many years ago. They weren’t charged, but we’ve reopened the investigation. And there’s another disappearance we’re investigating, that girl’s sister.”
Drema had questions, and I gave answers, making certain to be factual. In other circumstances, I’d never consider telling the spouse of someone I was investigating where I was going, but I sensed that Drema was serious about kicking Jeff to the curb: she wasn’t wearing her wedding rings. And I had a lot to gain by involving her.
“He never told me this. I knew about his friendship with hisboys, but…” Drema shook her head. “I never liked how they would just disappear for days on end. To be honest, I assumed they rented out hotel rooms and called up strippers. I convinced myself that I was just being jealous, until one time, I went into Jeff’s trunk to look for the diaper bag and I found…” She lowered her voice. “Costumes.”
“What kind of costumes?” I asked.
“Like, stupid bondage stuff.” She looked down at the floor. “Hoods and candle wax and stuff. I figured he hired women to do that, since I have too much self-esteem and not enough daddy issues for that bullshit.”
Monica almost choked on her coffee, but I kept a straight face and continued. “Does this look familiar?”
I showed her a photo of the cape I’d found in her backyard. She nodded. “Yes. Stuff like that.”
“I normally don’t comment on ongoing investigations like this, but…” I began.
“What do you need from me to nail that bastard to the wall?”
I blinked. Most people had a hard time believing that their spouse had done something awful, especially if they weren’t convicted. Drema Sumner had had enough, and she was willing to put her money where her mouth was. I could see that a mutually beneficial relationship was in the offing.
“I’d like to have access to the house,” I said. “I want to look for evidence connected with the disappearance of Dana Carson, and to see if there’s any evidence connected with the abduction of Vivian Carson. We would be discreet, though, and not enter at times when your husband is home, since we don’t want to tip him off.”
“Do it. You can toss the place to your heart’s content. Let me give you the alarm codes and a key. I’ll even write you a note.” She got up and went to the nurses’ station to get a pen and paper.
Monica and I stared at each other.
“That’s a woman who knows what she wants,” Monica said.
“She wants her husband in jail,” I agreed.
“No, she wants himunderthe jail.”
Drema returned with a legal pad and wrote out a note giving us permission to enter the house at will. “In case his lawyers give you any shit about it, we can go to the hospital notary and get this notarized.”
“This is amazing, Drema,” I said. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she said fiercely. “I don’t want to share custody of my child, and having Jeff in prison is the best way to accomplish that.”
I admired her ferocity, her willingness to defend her child. I’d vastly underestimated her, and I felt guilty about that. Drema Sumner was a fighter, and she was a strategic one. It felt good to have one secret ally in the Kings of Warsaw Creek’s circle.
We returned to Mason’s room. Drema kissed him on the head. “Mommy’s going to go get a paper signed and go down to the cafeteria. Would you like me to bring you something to eat?”
He looked up at her, nodded, and coughed miserably.
“What would you like?”
He stared at her blankly.
“Hamburger?”
He nodded.
“French fries?”
He nodded.
“Cookie?”
