In Their Blood (23 page)

“Not yet, Marina. Come on. Let me show you.” He pulled her toward the stairs. He had loved and trusted her. She had killed his parents.

“You’re hurting me. Why are you doing this, Jeremy?”

Geezer growled as he followed them up the stairs, periodically letting out a sharp bark. Jeremy pushed open the door to his parents’ bedroom. “Here it is. The crime scene. Did you think it would still be bloody and all torn up?”

The room was stale, and the gray morning light that seeped through the closed shades and drapes did little to lessen the crypt-like atmosphere.

Marina was crying. “What do you want, Jeremy? What are you doing?”

“You tell me, Marina. You tell me why I brought you here.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Maybe this will help.” He pushed a printout of the e-mails between his father and the McGill professor toward her.

Her expression changed from fear to comprehension as she read. “Oh God.” She wiped her cheeks. “It’s not what you think. Believe me, Jeremy.”

“It’s not what I think? Tell me then, Marina. What’s going on here? You never told me my father wanted you out of MIU. That he was trying to dump you on his friend. And how do you explain that he was able to persuade you to leave all of a sudden? Could he have found out about you setting the fire?”

“You don’t understand.”

“I think I do, Marina. You were chasing after him, making his life miserable, and he was going to get rid of you. But you didn’t want to leave. You said you would, but then you changed your mind. Why did you change your mind? Because you had a better idea? Because you figured out a way to punish my father and still keep your position? Because you figured once D. C. Stroeb was dead, no one would ever know the truth about your sickness?”

“You think I killed him?”

“You killed my father, you killed my mother. And now you’ve been playing with my head so I’d never suspect you. You feed me, you fuck me, you act like we’re going to find the murderer— but it’s all a big game to you, isn’t it Marina?” His voice cracked. “Damn you, Marina. I trusted you. I—” But he couldn’t say loved. That he had loved her.

“Jeremy, no. You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t kill anyone. I couldn’t kill anyone. Especially not your father.” She leaned against the wall as though she’d lost her balance. “Please, let me tell you what happened.”

“I know what happened.”

“Not all of it.” She took a ragged breath. “It’s true. I fell in love with him. And I believed he had fallen in love with me.”

She was lying. Trying to trick him again.

“He would come to my apartment and fix things for me: my car, the refrigerator, the leaky faucet.”

His father would fix things for her. Jeremy sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hands over his ears, but he could still hear her.

“And I would cook for him.”

She would cook for him.

“And I knew he was married, but then why did he keep coming back? Then, one day, we made love.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“And I was so happy. But he became upset and said he’d made a mistake.”

“My father slept with you?” It wasn’t possible. His father loved his mother. He never would have cheated on her.

“Once, Jeremy. Once. But then he couldn’t bear to be around me and he asked me to go away, but I said no; I wouldn’t go. Even if I couldn’t have him, being away from him was impossible. Impossible. And he started avoiding me. So I set the fire. I thought he’d believe the world was against him and he’d need me. But it didn’t work. Someone told him I’d done it. But I knew if I could just talk to him one more time and tell him how much I loved him, he wouldn’t send me away.”

Jeremy could hear her talk; it sounded garbled as though he had cotton in his ears. His father had fixed things for her; she had cooked for him. And he had slept with her. His father, perfect husband, exemplary family man, had fucked Marina.

Forgive me, Jeremy
.

Jeremy held his hands tighter over his ears. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to hear any of this.

“I never got to speak with him. Someone killed him first. Believe me, Jeremy. I didn’t kill him.” She was speaking in short bursts and it seemed he could see her heart fluttering in her chest beneath
the gauzy blouse, like a bird with a broken wing. That’s what she was— another injured sparrow. And somehow he knew Marina couldn’t have done it. She may have lied and manipulated and deceived, but she hadn’t killed. But there was no relief in that knowledge either.

“I was devastated beyond words when I heard your father had been killed. I barely wanted to live myself. Then you showed up that day. And you were so much like him.”

He went over to the covered, closed window. He needed air, but he made no move to open it. He had idolized his father. All he had really wanted had been to one day hear him say, “Good job, son. I’m proud of you.” Who was this man he had thought he’d known? Not a hero. Just a shattered memory. “Go away, Marina. Go away, please.”

Forgive me
.

“Don’t be angry with me, Jeremy. At first when I was with you, all I could think about was your father. But then, I realized I wasn’t thinking of him at all.”

“Go away, Marina.”

She was beside him, grabbing his hand, bringing his fingers up to her lips. “Jeremy, no. I can’t lose you, too.”

Her tears dripped on his hand. He didn’t move; he didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. She opened his hand and kissed each finger.

“They’ve healed,” she said in a whisper. “Your cuts have healed.” She rubbed his fingers against her cheek. “You see, my tears don’t sting. You don’t feel anything.”

She was right. Scar tissue had grown over his wounds. And that’s where he’d leave things. Covered with scar tissue.

So he wouldn’t have to feel anymore.

Chapter 29

He still wasn’t home. Elise pulled the Volvo into the empty driveway. She wondered if Jeremy had been by while she was at school, but she doubted it.

Yesterday had been one of the most anxious days of her life. When she’d left Jeremy in the morning, she’d had this bad feeling. It didn’t matter that Marina was a woman. If she had killed their parents, she could kill her brother, too. And Elise had sat in class, her cell phone on vibrate squeezed in her hand, waiting for him to call. Then finally, a text message from him. “It’s not Marina.”

That was all. “It’s not Marina.”

He didn’t call or text her again. That was yesterday around noon— twenty-eight hours ago. How could Jeremy be so sure it wasn’t their father’s graduate assistant? What proof had she given him? If Jeremy had been sleeping with her— which Elise was almost positive he had been— wasn’t he gullible enough to be pulled into her trap? So Elise was still worried. If Marina wasn’t the murderer, then why hadn’t Jeremy come home?

She put her key in the lock. This had become her pattern. She’d hold her breath as she turned the key, half expecting the door to be unlocked and something evil to be waiting for her on the other side. But the lock turned over with a small click and Elise released her breath. Safe, she thought, remembering a game she played with
Jeremy when they were little. If you touched the base, you were safe.

She prepared to step over Geezer, but he wasn’t lying in the front foyer as usual. She locked the door, dropped her backpack on the entranceway table, and looked up the stairs expecting to see the dog shaking sleepily as he roused himself to greet her. “Geezer?” she called.

She checked the family room sofa where Geezer would occasionally nap, even though he wasn’t allowed. She wished Flora had left the radio on, but she must have forgotten. Elise hated hearing only the sound of her sneakers padding over the marble floors. There was an indentation in one of the seat cushions and swirl marks from Geezer’s claws in the leather fabric that would have infuriated their mother. His scent hung in the air. “Geezer?” she called again.

The house was eerily still. Elise trotted up the steps. She went from her bedroom to Jeremy’s bedroom to their mother’s office, checking every corner, every closet. Sometimes if Geezer wasn’t feeling well, he’d hide in a small, dark space. “Hey, Geezer. Here, boy.” The beds were made and fresh towels were hanging in her and Jeremy’s bathrooms, but there was no sign of Geezer.

She stood in the hallway wondering where else to look for him. Then her breath caught in her chest. The door to her parent’s bedroom was open a few inches. She hadn’t been in their room since the murders. Elise trembled as she pushed open the door. The drapes were drawn and the room felt stale.

“Geezer?” she whispered. “Are you in here?”

Geezer’s dog tag clinked lightly against his collar. He was under the oversized skirted chair in the corner of the room. Elise used to hide there when she was a little girl and she and Jeremy played hide-and-seek.

“Come here, boy.” Elise slid to the floor and gently pulled him out by his front paws. He was panting, but her own heart was
racing. She needed to get out of this room. She could feel her parents in here, but it was too intense, like staring directly into the sun. “Let’s go, Geezer.” She pulled on his collar, but he lay down on the floor, making himself into deadweight.

A key turned in the front door. Jeremy. She could hear him climbing the stairs. But something was wrong. The footsteps were wrong. Geezer began to bark.

The room was spinning. The murderer. She’d known he would be coming back for her.

A shadow stood in the doorway. Elise squeezed her eyes shut and began to scream and scream and scream. Geezer barked uncontrollably.

“Stop that,” the murderer said, shaking her. “Stop that screaming.”

“No,” she shouted. “No. No. No.”

“Elise.” He smacked her face hard. Back and forth. The pain took her breath away.

Stunned, she opened her eyes. Crouched in front of her was her uncle Dwight.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” he said, massaging his hand. A thick college ring protruded from his finger like a brass knuckle.

She wanted to cry, but something held her back. She pushed her hair out of her face. Her cheek was hot beneath her hand. It throbbed painfully and she could feel a lump rising. “You, you didn’t have to do that.”

“You were hysterical.”

“I would have stopped when I saw it was you.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I overreacted.”

“How did you get in here?”

“With my key.”

“You have a key?” She stood up, uncomfortable about being alone in her parents’ room with him.

“Of course. I kept one when they changed the locks in case of an emergency.”

“But this wasn’t an emergency. Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?”

“I was worried about you.” He followed her out of the bedroom. Geezer sniffed Dwight’s leg, a low rumble coming from deep in his chest. “Can we put this damn dog outside?”

“Why were you worried?”

Dwight stepped back against the hallway wall, but Geezer continued growling.

“Because your brother didn’t come home last night. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t ring the doorbell. Were you trying to frighten me?”

“Of course not.” He moved a few inches along the wall toward the stairs. Geezer had him boxed in. “Can you get this damn dog away from me?”

“Geezer. It’s okay, boy. Let’s get a treat.”

The dog went down the stairs after her, looking back now and then at Dwight.

Elise found the dog biscuits in the pantry and gave one to Geezer. He circled the corner of the room and lay down, his eyes remaining fixed on Dwight.

“I see the housekeeper’s already gone,” Dwight said. “What’s the deal? Is she on banker’s hours?”

“Flora takes perfectly good care of us,” Elise said, opening the freezer door.

“Maybe she does a good job keeping the house clean, but a housekeeper’s no substitute for parental guidance. And, apparently, an older brother isn’t either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elise held a bag of frozen peas against her cheek, which was still smarting.

“Jeremy is completely irresponsible as a guardian. He doesn’t come home until early in the morning most nights, and last night he didn’t come home at all.”

“So? What business is it of yours?”

“Young lady, your parents expected me to take care of you if your brother wasn’t willing or able to. It’s clear to me he’s neither of those things.”

“Well I’m fine with how he’s taken care of me.”

“But I’m not. And a court of law would never permit this abuse of his guardianship.”

“I’ll call him,” she said. “Please, Dwight. I know he’ll be home soon. And I’ll make sure he comes home at night.”

“It’s too late for that. I’ve already filed papers to assume your guardianship. Selma and I will be moving in here with you.”

“No.” She threw the bag of peas on the floor.

“Behaving like a three-year-old won’t change things.”

“Show me the papers. Show me the court order or whatever papers you have. Because I don’t believe you can just come in here and do this.”

“You cocky girl. You should be grateful.”

“I don’t want you to be my guardian. And I’ll tell the judge that. I’ll tell the judge how you frightened me and hit me.”

“How dare you twist things?”

She took her cell phone from her pocket and snapped a picture of her cheek. “I’ll show him this.”

“You’re a stupid girl. You have a lot of your parents in you, Elise.”

She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t control herself. “Well good. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be like. Certainly not you.”

Geezer dropped the biscuit and snarled at Dwight. Dwight pressed against the refrigerator. “Get this damn dog away from me.”

“No. You get away from me.” She was crying hard. “You get out of my house.”

Geezer growled. Dwight held his back against the wall as he inched his way out of the room. “Have your tantrum, Elise. But I’ll be back with the court order and then we’ll see about your tantrums and your disrespect.”

Chapter 30

The late afternoon sun scorched his face and chest as he lay on the coarse sand at the edge of the surf. Jeremy imagined it was a branding iron, searing his flesh, obliterating healthy skin tissue, permanently altering the person he had once been.