Chapter 11: The Witness
The man standing across the street looked exactly like my husband.
Not almost.
Exactly.
Same shoulders.
Same crooked posture.
Same dark hair, now streaked with gray.
The same scar above his left eyebrow.
I pressed my hand against the window.
“That's him.””
Terrence couldn't move.
“Mom…”
I turned.
“That is your father.””
He shook his head.
“You said he was dead.””
Raymond's expression was grim.
“He should be.””
The man crossed the street.
The police officers immediately drew their weapons.
“Stay where you are!””
He stopped.
Then he looked directly at me.
“Margaret.””
My knees weakened.
I gripped the windowsill.
“How?””
His eyes filled with tears.
“I've been trying to get back to you.””
Raymond stepped forward.
“You waited too long.””
The man looked at him.
“You were supposed to protect them.””
“I did.””
“You lied.””
“So did you.””
The man looked toward Terrence.
“Come here, son.””
Terrence didn't move.
“You're not my father.””
The man flinched.
“I'm sorry.””
“For what?””
“For everything.””
I stepped outside before anyone could stop me.
“Margaret!”” the officer shouted.
I ignored him.
My husband stood ten feet away.
Alive.
Breathing.
Looking at me as if thirty-six years had disappeared.
“You died,” I whispered.
“I know.””
“I buried you.””
“I know.””
“I mourned you.””
“I know.””
My hand struck his chest.
“You let me believe you were dead!””
He didn't defend himself.
“You deserved the truth.””
“I deserved my husband!””
His eyes closed.
“I was trying to keep you alive.””
I laughed through my tears.
“For thirty-six years?””
“No.””
He looked at Raymond.
“For twenty-three.””
Raymond stiffened.
My husband continued.
“Your father discovered what Raymond and I had done. He threatened to expose us.””
“You were criminals.””
“Yes.””
The admission landed harder than any excuse.
“I was.””
He looked at Terrence.
“But when you were born, I wanted out.””
Terrence stared at him.
“Then why did you leave?””
“Because Raymond threatened your mother.””
Raymond shook his head.
“That's not what happened.””
My husband turned.
“You told me if I talked, Margaret would die.””
Raymond's face hardened.
“And you believed me.””
“You made sure I did.””
The police officer stepped closer.
“Everyone needs to come inside.””
My husband nodded.
“I'll tell you everything.””
Inside, he sat at my kitchen table.
I couldn't sit near him.
I stood across the room.
“Tell me about the grave.””
He swallowed.
“The man buried there was one of Raymond's associates.””
“Who was he?””
“A private investigator.””
“Why use his body?””
“Because your father needed proof I was dead.””
I stared at him.
“And you agreed?””
“I thought it was the only way to protect you.””
“Did you ever try to come back?””
“Twice.””
“When?””
“Once when Terrence was five.””
My breath caught.
“And the second time?””
“When he was seventeen.””
I looked at Terrence.
“Dad was there?””
My husband nodded.
“I watched you at his high school graduation.””
Terrence's eyes filled.
“You were there?””
“I was standing across the parking lot.””
“Why didn't you come to me?””
“Because Raymond was there too.””
Raymond's voice was cold.
“I was protecting the family.””
“You were protecting the money,” my husband snapped.
The officer placed a recorder on the table.
“Then tell us where the money went.””
My husband looked at me.
“Your father hid it.””
“Where?””
“In this house.””
I felt the room tighten around me.
“We searched the basement.””
“You searched the wrong place.””
He reached into his coat.
He removed an old photograph of my kitchen.
In the photograph, my father stood beside the refrigerator.
On the back was a note.
*The money was never in the basement.*
I looked at my kitchen.
The cabinets.
The floor.
The refrigerator.
Then I remembered something.
My father had replaced the kitchen floor shortly before he died.
I looked down.
“Under the floor.””
My husband nodded.
“But there's something more important than the money.””
“What?””
He looked at Terrence.
“Your son's name is on a second account.””
Terrence frowned.
“What account?””
“The one your father used to pay the people who were supposed to keep me dead.””
The kitchen fell silent.
Then the officer's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?””
He listened.
Then slowly looked at me.
“Mrs. Hayes…”
May you like
“What?””
“We just found a body in your backyard.””
