Rachel's Folly (14 page)

He slowly scrolled down to read various postings and look at some pictures. He quickly became aware that unlike himself, Paul had no problem sharing his life with the world. He put it all out there for everyone to see. And rightfully so: Paul was one of the most photogenic people Ben knew, and most of the pictures were simply of him looking beautiful. Some looked like a professional photographer had taken them. He noticed a picture Paul recently posted of himself and Ben that was taken years back at a party in Miami. They were both smiling broadly, holding each other tightly while looking directly at the camera.
That was a good night,
Ben thought, remembering how the two of them had ended up on the rooftop of a trendy hotel, drinking and dancing with the full moon shining overhead and the ocean glimmering in the distance. The caption Paul had written read, “Happy to report, I’m back with the love of my life!” The post had thirty-six likes and fourteen comments. Most of the comments were congratulations and well-wishes. There was one from Hector, a mutual friend, who said they should all get together the next time they were in Austin. Someone named Marty, however, was clearly not happy and let Paul know it. “Boo!” he wrote. “You’re too young and gorgeous for that old hag. Call me when you get tired of being his live-in maid.” Ben was hurt but felt better immediately when he read the comment directly below that one. Angelo had written, “Bitch, please. You’re just jealous!”

Ben snooped around a little more, read some meaningless, catty banter between Paul and his friends, and browsed through some of Paul’s likes before he clicked back to the picture taken at Mount Bonnell. He felt irritated and wasn’t really sure why. He knew he wasn’t jealous or mad at Paul, but he wasn’t feeling good about him either. After a moment of letting busy thoughts bounce around his head, he realized he was disappointed that Paul was still in the same place he had been before they broke up. The age difference between them had never been a problem before. In fact, Ben liked that Paul was so much younger because it made him feel younger, too; but now, it made him wonder. Paul had the same friends, was still going to the same nightclubs, and still obsessed with the latest in fashion and music. It was like he hadn’t grown at all.

Feeling downhearted, Ben was just about to call it a night when a little, red message sign popped up on his screen. He hesitated for a second in anticipation and then clicked on the icon. There were only four words followed by a phone number. It read: “I was Rachel’s client.” He felt a rush of adrenalin and immediately picked up his cell to call the number. A girl’s voice answered the line promptly.

“Sara?”

“Yeah.” She dragged out the word, sounding cold and guarded.

“Hi. This is Ben Mosley, Rachel Richards’ brother.”

“Yeah,” she replied again.

Ben suddenly felt panicked. He could sense Sara was put off and quickly realized he wasn’t going to get much out of her over the phone. “Ms. Dishner, I know this might seem highly unusual, but I really need to speak with you, and I think it would be better to meet in person. Will you meet with me? It can be in a public place of your choosing.”

“Uh …” There was a long pause. “Sure, I guess,” she said indifferently. “I can meet you tomorrow after I get out of work.”

“I can’t be there tomorrow. You’ll need to give me a few days. I live in Maine, but I think I can be there by Sunday or Monday. Will that work?”

“You’re coming all the way from Maine to talk to me?” She sounded skeptical. “It must be pretty important.”

“It’s extremely important,” Ben said.

“I work late on Monday, but I can meet you when I get out around seven. There’s a place called Isaac’s Coffee House on 28th and Lamar. It’s right next to my work.”

“I’ll be there.”

* * *

Ben was able to schedule a flight for that Saturday. He decided to take Homer with him this time to help cheer up Jacob. He wanted to do whatever he could to lift the spirits in that house. When he called Edward to let him know he was coming, Ben told him he missed Jacob and had some business he needed to take care of. He had expected Edward to ask for more information about Ben’s business, but he didn’t. He simply said it was fine. Ben realized then that Edward was just going through the motions of daily life, but had emotionally checked out. He figured that was just Edward’s way of coping, which might be fine for him, but was not healthy for Jacob. Ben worried that Edward was inadvertently neglecting his son, who seemed to be trying to stay strong for his father. That was just too much to bear for such a small child.

He arrived in Austin late that night. He knew Jacob and Agnes would be fast asleep and he didn’t want to bother Edward for a ride, so he took a cab and tried not to make too much noise when he got there. He texted Edward when the taxi pulled onto his street to let him know he was there. Homer ran ahead of Ben as he struggled with his luggage and paid the driver.

When Edward opened the door, Ben was immediately struck by his brother-in-law’s appearance. His eyes were dark and drained; his hair, messy and flat on one side. His dress clothes looked worn and wrinkled, missing its usual tie. Everything about him appeared untucked. Edward gave him a quick, strong hug and Ben nearly recoiled when he caught a whiff of Edward’s foul body order. He wondered how long it had been since he had showered. Ben entered the house and walked into the foyer.

“How was the flight?” Edward asked as he carefully closed the door.

“Fine, I’ve burned through all my frequent flyer miles in the past few months alone. I think they know me by my first name at the airport.” Ben put his bag down by the staircase. He stood up, looked around and inhaled slowly. “The house still smells like her.”

“Yeah …” Edward stood by him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you want some tea?” he asked quietly.

“That would be great,” Ben said, trying to keep his voice low so as not to wake the others.

Ben followed Edward into the kitchen where he poured the tea, and then they both sat down in the dim light at the kitchen table. Ben looked at Edward and couldn’t help noticing how aged and tired he appeared. He had lost weight, his skin looked pale gray, he needed a shave and his hair was in dire need of a good trim.

Concerned, Ben asked, “How ya doin’, brother?”

Edward took a deep breath and looked out into space. “Getting by, I guess.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “How are you?” But before Ben could answer, Edward continued. “You know, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I mean, I see death all the time at the hospital. I genuinely grieve for the families when it happens. But no one can prepare you for this.” He looked over at Ben. “Jacob walks around with his little packed suitcase saying he wants to get on an airplane to go see his mommy in Heaven. I’ve caught him talking to himself. He says he’s talking to her. He sleeps with me every night now, cries out for her in his sleep. He cries during the day at the drop of a hat. He even started wetting the bed again.” He looked off into space again. “I just don’t know how to do this.”

“I’m sorry, Ed. I don’t know what to say. It’s heartbreaking.” Ben reached across the table and put his hand on Edward’s shoulder. Edward bowed his head and closed his eyes. Ben noticed that he was still wearing his wedding ring.

After a moment, Edward raised his head and rubbed his scruffy chin. “So what made you come back so soon?”

“Sara Dishner,” Ben replied apprehensively, knowing Edward wasn’t going to like his answer.

Edward grinned and shook his head slowly. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You’re still playing detective, huh? And what exactly are you trying to find?”

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’m meeting with Sara on Monday, and I really think she might be able to shed some light on this whole situation.” He turned his chair to face Edward’s and raised his voice slightly for emphasis. “I think I might be able to—”

Edward raised his hand and stopped him mid-sentence. “You know what, Ben? You’re right. I
don’t
want to hear it,” he said sternly. He grabbed his head with both hands and pushed his fingers through his hair. “I feel like I’m going insane here.” He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. “I really wish you hadn’t told me about what happened between Rachel and Jack. I can’t grieve properly because I’m so fucking angry. I can’t talk to her to work it out. I’ll never know why she did it.”

“I didn’t
want
to tell you. I
had
to tell you. I really do believe that son of a bitch had something to do with her death and I’m going to keep digging for answers until the truth comes out.” Ben spoke rapidly, but then realized how loudly he was speaking and stopped himself from saying more. He was frustrated that Edward was being so closed-minded about his quest for answers about his sister’s death. He felt feverish and his heart was pounding. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“You know what I think?” Edward asked. “I think you can’t let this thing about Jack go because you’re so damned consumed with guilt over not being there for Rachel. You just can’t handle it. But if you can prove there was a murder, that someone else did it … well, then you didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

Ben shook his head in protest, but deep down he knew what Edward said was true.

“I wasn’t there for her either, Ben. I have to live with that, too.”

Ben was about to speak, but Edward spoke first, looking directly into Ben’s eyes and tapping the table with his index finger to emphasize his point. “Look, you do what you need to do to get through this, but let me mourn in peace. And don’t talk to me about Jack anymore because it only makes me think about what happened.”

Frustrated, Ben agreed. “Okay, I won’t bring it up anymore.” There was a long pause. “But, um, there’s just one thing …” Edward looked at him expectantly. “I’m going to need a car while I’m here. Can I borrow Rachel’s?”

“No. It’s the only car that can hold a car seat in the back. I’ve been using it to drive Jacob around. My truck is in the shop; use the Porsche.”

“Oh, no. Well, I … I don’t know.”

“Can you drive a stick?” Edward asked bluntly.

“Yes.”

“Use the Porsche.”

Thinking about how much Edward coddled that car, Ben replied, “I don’t know, Edward. Maybe it’s better if I just rent a car.”

“Ben, use the Porsche. I don’t care about the goddamned car anymore.”

After a moment, Ben reluctantly agreed. Then he tried to change the subject. “Can I treat you and Jacob to breakfast tomorrow? Maybe we can all go to that local pancake house he loves so much.”

“You two can go. I’m really not up for it,” he said, irritated.

“Whatever you say.” It was obvious now that Edward was angry and no matter how much he tried, Ben wasn’t going to change that. The two men remained at the table, struggling to find small talk. After a while, Ben took out a deck of playing cards from his bag and they played gin rummy late into the night.

ON MONDAY
EVENING
, Ben carefully pulled the Porsche out of the driveway. He tried in vain not to keep jerking forward each time he switched gears, but he just wasn’t used to driving a sports car. He cautiously drove to BookPeople and was relieved to find a parking spot close to the entrance. He parked the car, making sure not to get too close to the cars on either side of him. He spent a while trying to figure out how to control the windows before he could crack one open for Homer.

Once outside, he noticed that everyone was bundled up in their heavy winter clothes. He wasn’t wearing a coat, just a plaid, flannel, long-sleeve shirt and khaki pants. Compared to how bitterly cold it was in Maine, he didn’t feel chilled at all. As he held the door open to allow an elderly woman to exit, he heard the sudden shriek of halting breaks. He looked over his shoulder to see a late model Ford Escort almost hit a man who was crossing the walkway. The man raised his arms in the air, shouting at the driver in anger, as the car turned the corner and drove off quickly.

“Crazy kids,” the woman said, shaking her head. “When will they learn?” She smiled at Ben and walked away.

Ben picked up a book he needed for work and found a couple of picture books about dinosaurs for Jacob. He glanced at his wristwatch as he waited to check out and felt confident that he still had plenty of time to get to the coffee shop. He struggled to get his large body into the Porsche, which was much smaller and lower to the ground than he was used to. Once he maneuvered over the speed bumps and out of the parking lot, he headed northeast towards the upper part of town.

His hands were sweating. And as nervous as he was about driving Edward’s car, he was more anxious about seeing Sara. He hoped she wouldn’t change her mind and not show up for their meeting. He hoped she could finally give him the clue he was so desperately seeking. But what if Edward was right and she didn’t know anything? What if it had all been for nothing and Jack was innocent? Was he really making something of nothing? Maybe Rachel was so depressed and guilt-ridden, she had in fact gone over the edge. He brushed off the thought. He just couldn’t bear the notion of living his life never knowing exactly what happened to Rachel.

Isaac’s Coffee House was in an old, brick building, with a large glass counter surrounded by a dozen small round tables. There was a worn out, purple, velvet sofa on one side near a large bookcase full of old books and magazines. The walls were plastered with vintage posters and flyers of 1970s icons like Farrah Fawcett, David Cassidy, Evel Knievel, Smokey and the Bandit and The Ramones. The place smelled of fresh coffee and baked pastries, with Led Zepplin’s “Going to California” coming through the speakers. Ben smirked when he read the daily special scribbled on the chalkboard above the counter. It was a white buttery croissant coupled with a cup of their house dark roast coffee. It was appropriately called the “Ponch and Jon” special.

Ben stood at the entrance with Homer in his arms and looked around for Sara. There were only a few people there and no one fit her profile. He went to the counter and ordered a cappuccino and an orange cranberry scone, then sat down at a small table by the front window.

About ten minutes later, a small, thin girl with big, hazel eyes and long, brown and blond streaked hair walked in. She loosened her dark gray, cable knit scarf as she entered and looked around. She nodded hello to the man behind the counter.

Ben stood up and called out her name. She turned to look at him, half-smiled and went over to greet him. She kept her arms crossed and only released them when Ben held out his hand for a handshake. She shook it, but crossed her arms once more immediately after.

“Thanks so much for meeting me,” he said and motioned for her to sit down. “Please. Can I get you something?”

“No, I’m good, thanks,” she said as she dropped her bag on the floor and sat down. “You don’t look like Rachel.”

“I know, she takes … I mean, she took after my father. They say I look more like my mother.”

“Yeah, uh … I’m sorry for your loss,” she said quietly, adjusting her chair. Then she looked at Homer and smiled.

“Thank you. It’s been really difficult. She was my only sister, my only sibling.” He noticed she was still looking at Homer. “Do you want to pet him? He’s very friendly.” She hesitated, but then reached over and began to caress the dog’s head. Homer happily licked her hand. She seemed to soften and warm up a little.

“You were a client of hers?” Ben asked calmly.

“Yeah, for a while. I started seeing her when my parents got divorced. She was more than a therapist to me though. She was more of a friend, I guess. I could tell her anything.” Her eyes scanned Ben’s face, then she leaned back in her chair and gazed out the window.

“Yes, she was always easy to talk to,” Ben said. They sat there for a minute or two as he struggled to find a way to ask her about Jack. She looked around the coffee shop and then back out the window. She grabbed a long lock of her hair and began to twirl it between her fingers. Ben felt the awkwardness in the silence and was just about to speak when she asked, “So why did you want to talk to me?”

“Yes …” A guy reading a book at a nearby table glanced in their direction. Ben lowered his voice. “Well, do you know how Rachel died?”

“I heard she killed herself, jumped off her balcony, which I really don’t get at all. I guess she must have got bummed out listening to everybody’s problems.”

“I don’t get it either, but I think it had more to do with her own problems than anyone else’s. I think there’s a lot more to the story than anyone knows. And that’s why I’m here. I’m trying to find out why Rachel took her life.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think I know anything that can help you.”

“You’re probably right, but I have to ask …” Ben leaned forward on the table. “Do you know a man named Jack Spencer?”

Sara thought for a second and then shook her head slowly. “No.”

Ben’s brow furrowed. “No? Are you sure?”

“The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

Ben was perplexed and starting to feel disheartened. “Did you ever hear Rachel talk about someone named Jack?” Sara looked pensive and then shook her head again.

“Nope. No Jack, but what do I know? She said a lot of crazy things the last time I saw her.”

“Which was when?”

“The day she died.”

Surprised, Ben looked at her in disbelief. “What? Have the police interviewed you?”

“No, why would they?”

“They said they interviewed all of Rachel’s recent clients, starting with the ones she saw the day of the accident.”

“Well, that explains it, ‘cause I wasn’t on her schedule. I stopped seeing her a while back. I called her that morning because something had happened that I needed to talk to her about.”

Ben leaned forward in his chair. “What did you guys talk about that morning?” Ben asked eagerly. Sara’s face suddenly darkened and she pulled back, crossing her arms in front of her chest again. “Sara, I normally wouldn’t ask. I know it’s no business of mine. But it just might offer a clue into Rachel’s thought process that day. I promise you, I won’t tell anyone what you confide in me.” Sara remained unmoved and silent. “Please,” he pleaded.

She studied Ben’s eyes for a while. They were soft, lost. She looked over at the woman sitting on the purple sofa and then back at Ben. Then she said, “I was seeing a guy back then. I met him here actually, last year. We had seen each other a few times before he got up the nerve to introduce himself. Anyway, we started going around. My parents hated him from the get-go, and I really don’t have too many friends, so the only person I could talk to about him was Rachel.”

“What’s his name?”

“James.”

“Is he a boy from school?”

“No. I just told you I met him here,” she reminded him, sounding agitated.

“I’m sorry. Continue, please.”

“Like I said, I had stopped seeing Rachel at the end of the summer, but it was okay because things were getting better with my parents. But then something happened.” She looked at Ben who was studying her every word.

“
What
happened?”

She hesitated, and then looked at him dead in the eye. She lowered her voice. “If I tell you, you have to
promise
you’ll keep it to yourself. You can’t tell the police. Nobody knows.”

“You have my word,” he said.

She sighed deeply. “I got pregnant. I didn’t know what to do. At first, I thought we’d get married, but when I told him, he said …” Her voice cracked and her eyes began to water. She quickly brushed away a tear that started to fall from her eye. She tilted her head back and sighed. “He told me he could get one of his friends to give me an abortion.”

“Oh no,” Ben said solemnly.

“Yeah, well, it happened. It’s over.”

“This is what you talked to Rachel about on that day?” Ben asked. Sara nodded.

“And how did Rachel respond?”

“She tried to get me to go see a doctor, and was really mad. She said he could go to jail, since I’m a minor and everything.”

Ben sat back in his chair and thought a moment. “As awful as that is, I’m not sure why it would cause Rachel to go to Elena’s,” he said mostly to himself.

“Elena’s?”

“Yes. My sister didn’t jump from her own balcony. It was her friend’s condo.” Ben wondered how this information could be connected to Jack. “Is there anything out of the ordinary that happened on that day you spoke with Rachel?” Ben asked.

She started to shake her head but stopped. “Well, yeah, I guess, in a way,” she said. Ben waited in anticipation.

“She saw a picture I had of James on my phone and then had to leave all of a sudden. She apologized and said she would explain it all to me later.”

“Do you have that picture with you?”

“Yeah, it’s on my phone, but I asked her if she knew him and she said no, so I don’t think it’s going to help.” She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the pictures until she landed on the one she was looking for. “Here,” she said and handed the phone to him.

Ben held it out at arm’s length to get a better look. “Oh. My. God,” he said and covered his mouth with his hand.

“What?”

He held the screen out for her to see and pointed to the male in the photo. “
This
is Jack Spencer.”

Sara looked confused. “What?”

“I knew it!” Ben said excitedly. “I knew there had to be a connection.
That’s
why she went to Elena’s. She wasn’t sad or depressed. She was mad as hell.”

“What are you talking about?” Sara asked with a puzzled look on her face. “Look, I told you everything. You better tell me who Jack Spencer is,” she demanded.

“Jack Spencer is a fraud who has made a fool of all of us.”

Sara stared at Ben, obviously still confused.

“Rachel’s friend Elena …” Ben carried on, as he put on his reading glasses and studied the picture more closely. “Our friend Jack here married her in May.” Sara’s expression went blank. Ben continued, “And Rachel … Rachel had an affair, for lack of a better word, with Jack two days before their wedding.”

“No way.”

“I’m afraid so. It seems Jack has been a very busy boy.”

“You’re wrong. That can’t be true,” she said coldly.

Finally, the pieces were falling into place. Ben suddenly felt redeemed and relieved. “It can. It all makes sense now. Rachel’s feeling guilty about sleeping with her best friend’s husband, then she finds out he’s not only been with you all that time, he got you pregnant. Not to mention the way he took care of his problem.”

Sara shook her head repeatedly. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

“We all fell for it. And you know what? I don’t think Rachel took her life. I bet you Jack killed her. I don’t know how he did it, but I’m willing to bet my life he was there when she went up to Elena’s condo.” He was beside himself. He closed his eyes and slowly nodded his head. He wasn’t crazy, after all.

Sara’s jaw dropped. She looked around the coffee shop and then back at Ben, staring at him with wide eyes. After a long pause, she fell back in her chair and looked down at the table. She said in an almost inaudible voice, “I’m so stupid.”

Ben placed his hand gently over hers. “Do you want to press charges against him for the abortion?”

She quickly pulled her hand away from his. “What? No … uh, what? My parents would find out.”

“You need to think about it. This is serious. I’ll call you later. I have to go talk to my brother-in-law and decide how to handle this,” he said with a renewed sense of purpose.

Sara looked dumbfounded. She put her head in her hands and stared at the table. “What are you going to do?” she asked blankly.

“Nail him. But I’m going to need you. You should come to the police station with me and Edward.”

“Oh,
hell
no. I’m not going to the police.” She shook her head and then looked at him incredulously. “You honestly think he killed Rachel?”

“All I know is Rachel wouldn’t have taken her life. He had something to do with it. My gut tells me he killed her. I have to prove it though. You’ve given me a motive. I need you to think about this. We’ll figure something out, so your parents don’t have to find out, okay?”

She looked unconvinced. “I … I don’t know.”

“I know this is all a lot to take in, but you have to help me. Think of Rachel.” Ben looked at her affectionately. “Please.”

“I don’t know,” Sara repeated once more. “It sounds crazy. I don’t think he killed her, there’s no way … But, if it helps, I guess I can tell the police we dated. I don’t know.”

Ben grabbed Homer and abruptly got up. He bent over and gave Sara a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll be in touch soon. Thank you.” She pulled away, seeming taken aback by the kiss, but then nodded slowly in agreement. Ben turned back for another look at Sara, as he hurried out of the coffee shop.

* * *

Ben felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest. He was charged and eager to speak with Edward. He tried calling him as soon as he left the coffee shop. When Edward didn’t pick up, Ben immediately cut the line. He thought about calling back and leaving a message but decided it was probably better to tell Edward in person.