Page 26 of If She Stayed
He walked to the window and looked out at his small backyard, remembering another autumn afternoon when everything had changed.The phone call had come on a Tuesday.The voice on the other end had been professional, sympathetic, full of carefully chosen words that revealed nothing while telling him everything he needed to know.
"I'm sorry to inform you that there's been an accident."
But it hadn't been an accident.He had known that immediately, even before the official investigation began.
The insurance settlement had been generous, designed to buy his silence and his acceptance of the official narrative.But money couldn't replace what he had lost, couldn't undo the injustice of watching guilty people walk free while his world collapsed around him.
He had spent months planning his response, studying the women who had participated in the cover-up, learning their routines and vulnerabilities.The book club had provided the perfect connection between them, a shared activity that would allow him to eliminate them one by one while creating a plausible alternative motive for their deaths.
He knew that the FBI agents would eventually wise up and catch on to him.But by then, it would be too late for the remaining members of the book club.Eleanor Whitman was probably frightened already, wondering if she would be next.Sandra Morrison would be looking over her shoulder, questioning every shadow and unexpected sound.
Good.They deserved to feel afraid.They deserved to understand what it was like to live with the knowledge that their carefully constructed lives could be destroyed at any moment.
He opened another book, this one a first edition ofThe Maltese Falcon.He had always admired Hammett's spare prose style, the way the author could convey volumes of meaning with minimal words.
There was an efficiency to classic detective fiction that modern mysteries often lacked.The old masters understood that the best crimes were elegant in their simplicity, that the most effective killers were those who planned carefully and executed precisely.
Margaret's murder had established the pattern.Jennifer's death had confirmed it.Now the remaining members of the book club would be watching for literary clues, trying to anticipate which novel might inspire the next killing.They would be analyzing their own reading lists, wondering if their current selections might somehow predict their fate.
He closedThe Maltese Falconand placed it carefully back on its shelf.There was still work to be done, more justice to be served.And it was about damned time.It had been too long delayed, but it would not be denied.Not this time.
He turned off the lamp on his desk and prepared to leave his study.Tomorrow would bring new opportunities, new chances to continue the work he had started.The remaining book club members were probably sleeping poorly tonight.
If they were sleeping at all.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The FBI field office felt unusually quiet for late afternoon as Kate and DeMarco settled down in their go-to conference room when they arrived at the field office.Kate used the single-cup coffee maker at the back of the room, the strong smell giving her a boost even before she had a sip.She took note of the fact that DeMarco had already put some time in here; there were timeline charts and witness statements covering the long table in organized chaos, while a whiteboard displayed the names of all current and former book club members connected by lines that represented various relationships and potential motives.
DeMarco pulled out her phone and navigated back to David Fletcher's TikTok profile, scrolling through the recent livestream recordings they had reviewed earlier."I've watched these videos twice now, Kate.The timestamps are legitimate, and you can see viewer comments coming in real-time during both murder windows."
Kate studied the phone screen, watching a few minutes of Fletcher typing at his laptop while occasionally addressing his audience."Tuesday night from seven to ten, Thursday night from eight-thirty to eleven-forty-nine.Those timeframes completely eliminate him for both murders."
Kate leaned back in her chair, considering their assessment of Fletcher as a suspect."You know, his profile did make sense initially.The desperate need for validation from the book club members, the intimate knowledge of mystery novel tropes, and the recent job loss, creating financial and emotional stress."
"All the psychological markers were there," DeMarco agreed."Someone whose self-worth was tied to external approval, who might snap when faced with harsh criticism of his life's work."
"But his alibis are airtight."
“Yeah, without a doubt.”
Kate stood up and began pacing around the conference room.She sipped from the black coffee, finding git bitter but helpful."And honestly, his response to Jennifer's criticism seemed mature and productive.He channeled his anger into revision work rather than revenge fantasies."
DeMarco nodded thoughtfully and said, "There's something else that bothers me about Fletcher as our killer.The level of premeditation we're seeing doesn't match someone acting out of wounded pride."
Kate stopped pacing and turned to face her partner."What do you mean?"
"Think about the planning involved in these murders.Margaret's killer had to know her evening routine, Harold's work schedule, her reading preferences, and her security habits.Jennifer's killer had to gain access to her kitchen, know her tea ritual, understand the exact timing of when she'd be home from book club."DeMarco consulted her notes."This isn't someone who got angry about criticism and lashed out.This is someone who's been watching these women for weeks or months, learning everything about their lives."
Kate felt a chill of recognition."You're right.Fletcher's motive would align more with a heat-of-the-moment crime.Someone who confronted Jennifer about her harsh feedback, and things escalated.But what we're seeing is cold, calculated stalking behavior."
"The literary staging at both crime scenes took considerable planning, too.Someone had to research the specific details from the novels, time everything perfectly, and execute without leaving evidence."
Kate returned to her chair and pulled Margaret's crime scene photos closer."So we're looking for someone who understands mystery fiction well enough to create these elaborate scenes, but whose actual motive might be something entirely different."
"Someone who's been studying these women's habits and vulnerabilities for an extended period," DeMarco added."Which suggests either a connection we haven't identified yet, or a level of obsession that goes beyond normal book club relationships."
Kate organized the photos into chronological order, studying the progression from Margaret's carefully staged library scene to Jennifer's more chaotic living room death."I think we need to start putting pressure on the remaining book club members.Individual interviews, more aggressive questioning, see if we can get someone's armor to crack.My cover is blown already, having spoken to David, so there’s no harm there."
