The Sister-in-Law: An absolutely gripping summer thriller for 2021, Pamela Crane [reading eggs books .txt] 📗

‘What about me? Did I deserve to lose my husband? Did the kids deserve to lose their father? No, because even if he made mistakes at the end, it doesn’t erase all his goodness before that. I don’t know how you can be okay with the fact that he’s dead. Because I’m not.’

She shook her head and fingered the collar of her blouse. She looked just as uncomfortable with this argument as I felt. ‘Maybe you should be okay with his death. It’d help you move on with your life. Find someone better, who doesn’t destroy everything he touches. I just want to see you happy, that’s all. And getting rid of that house of haunts could be part of that process.’

And we were back to the house again. ‘I’m not saying I won’t eventually sell. But unloading that house is the least of my worries. Right now, my focus is to find a job, find a place to live, and get my family back on its feet.’

She huffed. The same huff she always did when the topic transitioned to me working. ‘What kind of job does a girl with no degree or career path find? Maybe working at a garden center or plant nursery again? I just don’t want you ending up like me.’

‘What’s wrong with how you ended up? You’re a successful real estate agent, Mom. That’s something to be proud of.’

The corner of her lip curled up in a doubtful look. ‘But it wasn’t my dream. I want better for you. You know, it’s never too late to go to college and pursue your passion, which you could have done if that husband of yours hadn’t pressured you to start having kids instead.’

It was I who wanted kids right away; it was my choice, not Ben’s. But Mom never missed a chance to guilt me about it, as if college was going out of business.

‘Can we not speak ill of the dead, please? He was my husband, Mom, the father of my kids and your son-in-law.’

‘Well, he was no son to me, leaving you and the kids with no security. At least you should be getting your insurance payout soon, I hope. Have they found any leads yet on who killed him? It worries me that his killer is still out there, running free.’

‘No, they haven’t given me any names yet.’ And I knew there would never be any. I wanted to tell her everything. She was my mother; it wasn’t like she’d ever turn me in. I felt it in my bones. It was time to come clean. ‘I need to be honest with you. I’ve done something bad.’

She dabbed her napkin to the corners of her mouth, tinting it with pink lipstick. My mother, so prim and proper, even amidst a scandal.

‘We’ve all done bad things, dear.’

‘No, this is really bad. I might end up arrested over it.’

She dropped the napkin and aimed a sharp gaze at me. ‘What are you talking about? What could you have possibly done?’

I leaned across the table and whispered, ‘Ben wasn’t murdered. He killed himself.’

Mom gasped and her eyes lit like the neon lights stretching across the ceiling.

She shook her head. ‘No, not possible. What makes you think that?’

‘A suicide note he wrote. It mentioned something only Ben knew about, and it was definitely his handwriting.’

‘Why didn’t you tell the police that?’

‘Because I would have lost the insurance money, so I staged it to look like a murder. It’s only a matter of time before they figure that out and arrest me.’ I couldn’t tell her about Lane’s involvement. As far as she knew, it was only me … and it would stay that way, just in case the police questioned her. No way was I going to risk Lane’s freedom.

‘If the police haven’t turned up yet, there’s a chance they never will. It’s been almost two months. And besides, knowing what kind of man Ben was, murder isn’t out of the question.’

Her conspiratorial tone made me question everything I thought I knew. What kind of man did she think Ben was? I wanted to ask her the question that had been bugging me more and more as the police investigation unraveled. It was ludicrous to even consider, but my mother had a way of getting what she wanted. She had always wanted Ben out of my life, then one day poof, he was.

‘Do you know something I don’t?’ I wondered aloud.

Glancing away, she avoided my eyes, her fingers frantically fidgeting now. Avoidance – wasn’t that a sign of guilt? Then she sighed wearily. A weary, weighty sigh. What secret was she carrying?

‘Mom, did you have anything to do with Ben’s death?’

‘Are you asking if I murdered your husband?’ With a glare she dared me to answer. ‘Geez, Harper, what kind of person do you think I am?’

‘No, I’m not saying you killed him. But did you say something to him that might have shaken him up? Something that might have made him want to disappear?’

Raising her palms in surrender, she pursed her lips. ‘Fine, I might have threatened him a bit when I suspected him of cheating, but that’s all, dear. The man needed to know he wouldn’t get away with hurting my baby girl. I would make sure of that.’

Her explanation wasn’t good enough. There was more. I could feel it tearing its way out into the open.

‘Where were you that night, the night I found Ben? Because I know you weren’t home with your grandkids the whole time. They told me you left them with the neighbor, Miss Eileen. Which I’m pissed about, by the way. Don’t ever leave my kids with a stranger again.’

‘Eileen isn’t a stranger. She’s a dear friend. And I simply needed to run to the store for something. Don’t make such a fuss about it. Eileen loved the company and the kids loved the candy.