Page 41 of If She Stayed
But somehow, over the course of years that felt simultaneously endless and brief, Robert had found a way to function.Not to heal, exactly, but to create a routine that allowed him to get through each day without being consumed by the anger that still burned in his chest.He had developed hobbies that kept his hands busy and his mind occupied.He had learned to avoid situations and conversations that might trigger the grief that never truly went away.
Until six months ago.That was when Eleanor Whitman had appeared at his front door and shattered the fragile equilibrium he had managed to build.
Robert could still see her standing on his porch that evening in late spring, wringing her hands and struggling to find words for what she had come to say.She had looked older than her years, worn down by whatever burden she had been carrying, but there had been a determination in her expression that suggested she had been preparing for this conversation for a long time.One moment, it looked like she might pass out, and the next, she was a ball of nervous energy.
"Mr.Fisher?My name is Eleanor Whitman.I need to speak with you about your son..."
The sound of his son's name spoken by a stranger had hit Robert like a physical blow.Twenty years of carefully managed grief had threatened to overwhelm him in that single moment, but he had invited Eleanor inside because he needed to understand why this woman knew Brandon's name and what she might have to tell him.
What she had told him changed everything.
Eleanor had sat in his living room, tears streaming down her face, and confessed to the crime that had destroyed his life two decades earlier.She and three friends had been drinking wine at a local restaurant, celebrating something Robert couldn't remember now.They had decided to drive home despite being intoxicated, and Eleanor had been behind the wheel when she struck Brandon on Riverside Drive.
"We panicked," Eleanor had said, her voice barely audible."We knew we had hit someone, but we were drunk and scared, and we just kept driving.We agreed that night to never talk about it again, and we never did.Until now."
Robert had sat in stunned silence as Eleanor explained how guilt had eaten away at her for twenty years, how she had been unable to enjoy any aspect of her life, knowing that she had killed an innocent boy and left his family without answers.She had mentioned that one of her friends had recently received a cancer diagnosis, and the reality of mortality had finally pushed her to seek some kind of redemption.
"I can't undo what we did," Eleanor had said."But I can at least give you the truth.And that I have all lived with the knowledge of what we did every day since it happened."
She had been careful with names, Robert remembered.She had mentioned being part of a book club and had accidentally revealed Janet Klein's name before catching herself and providing no other identities.But she had given him enough information to begin his own investigation.
Robert had thanked Eleanor for her honesty and told her that he would need time to process what she had told him.Good Lord, they’d even wept together as if they were close friends.He had even suggested that he might be able to work toward forgiveness, given enough time and reflection.Eleanor had left his house believing that her confession might lead to some kind of reconciliation or healing.
But Robert had been planning their deaths from the moment she walked out his door.
The research had taken months.Identifying the other members of Eleanor's book club, learning their schedules and routines, understanding their reading habits via Goodreads and their Amazon profiles.He'd learned enough about them to plan the elaborate crime scenes that would confuse investigators and buy him time to complete his work.He had been methodical and patient, just as he had learned to be during his years of managing grief.
Margaret Carlisle had been first because she was the most vulnerable, isolated in her library with a husband who worked predictable evening hours.She was also among the newest of the members, so he didn’t think her death would instantly make people think the murders were connected to the book club.
Jennifer Haynes had been next because her nightly tea ritual provided an opportunity for poisoning that would initially appear to be natural causes.Eleanor had been third because Robert had wanted her to understand that her confession had not brought her the peace she had sought.
And now Janet Klein sat at the top of his remaining list, the woman whose name Eleanor had accidentally revealed during her confession.She had been in the car… the car that had killed his son.Janet lived alone, had no close family nearby, and followed routines that Robert had been observing for weeks.
He reached into the backseat of his car and retrieved the canvas bag that contained the tools he would need for Janet's death.A coil of rope, work gloves, a flashlight, and the spare key to Janet's house that he had obtained weeks earlier when she had been away for an overnight trip.
Janet Klein had been there that night twenty years ago.She had been in the car when Eleanor struck Brandon, had participated in the decision to flee the scene.She had kept the secret that denied Robert any sense of justice or closure for two decades.
Robert stepped out of his car and began walking toward 1247 Maple Lane, carrying the bag that contained everything he needed to cross another name off the list of people who had destroyed his life and escaped punishment for twenty years.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Kate positioned herself in Janet Klein's living room, settling into the floral armchair where she could observe both the front window and the hallway leading to the rest of the house.Only a single table lamp cast a soft glow across the room, creating the impression that someone might be home.The television remained on but muted, exactly as they had found it when entering the house fifteen minutes ago, adding to the illusion of normal evening activity.
DeMarco had taken a position on the kitchen floor, her back against the cabinets, where she could remain hidden from anyone entering through the front door while still maintaining a clear line of sight to the living room.From her concealed position, she could move quickly to provide backup if the killer arrived expecting to find Janet Klein, alone and vulnerable.
"Kate," DeMarco said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.Kate looked back at her, her partner's face just barely illuminated by the glow of her phone screen and the scant bit of remaining daylight coming through the kitchen window.
“Yeah?”Kate said.
"I may have found something that could potentially be connected to the killer and to Janet."
Kate turned her eyes on the front window while listening."What did you find?"
"The estimated date of the book club's creation came right on the heels of a terrible neighborhood tragedy not too far away from Eleanor's home.A teenage boy named Brandon Fisher was struck by a car and left for dead.The accident seems to have happened just a few blocks away from Eleanor's house.This was a bit over twenty years ago.And about two months after, when we believe Janet quit the book club."
“So, a hit and run?"Kate asked, feeling a slight prickle along her spine.
"That's what it looks like.The boy was found hours later, having crawled toward a nearby house, trying to get help.He died before anyone found him."DeMarco consulted her iPad screen."The parents pushed hard to find answers, but when there was nothing found after several months, the case sort of disappeared.And I just wonder…"
