Page 54 of This is Why We Lied

Finally, she asked, “Did she suffer?”

Will kept his answer neutral, “I got there at the end.”

“You’re sure—” her voice caught. “You’re sure she’s gone?”

Will nodded. “Sara pronounced her at the scene.”

Delilah dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “I’ve stayed away from this godforsaken place for over a decade, and the second I’m back, I’m mired in their bullshit.”

He got the feeling she was referring to more than the murder. Will double clicked the button on the side of his iPhone to start his recording app. “What bullshit are you mired in?”

“More than is dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.”

“Let’s skip the Shakespeare,” Will said. “I’m an investigator. I need facts.”

“Here’s one,” she said. “Every person inside of that house is going to lie to you. I’m the only one who’s going to tell you the truth.”

In Will’s experience, the least honest people were the ones who went out of their way to announce that they were being honest, but he was eager to hear the aunt’s version of the truth. “Run it down for me, Delilah. Who has a motive?”

“Who doesn’t?” Delilah asked. “Those rich jackasses from Atlanta—they’re here to buy the lodge. There has to be a family vote to approve the sale. Twelve million dollars split seven ways. Mercy gets two votes, her own as well as Jon’s, because he’s still a minor. She told the family in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t let the sale happen.”

Will felt some of his calculations start to shift. “When was this?”

“During the family meeting at noon today. I hid in the sitting room to listen because I’m nosey and I love drama. Finally, it pays off.” Delilah took another tissue from her pocket to wipe her nose. “Cecil tried to browbeat Mercy into voting to sell, but she turned on him. Turned on all of them, really. Mercy said she wasn’t going to let them take the lodge from her. Or Jon. That she would ruin every one of them if it came to that. She told them if she lost this place, she was going to take them all down with her. And she meant it. I could tell from her tone that she meant it.”

Will found himself recalculating again. Money motives were at the root of most crimes. Twelve million bucks was a lot of motive. “What did she threaten to do?”

“Expose their secrets.”

“Do you know their secrets?”

“If I did, I would tell you all of them. My brother is an abusive asshole, I’ll give you that much, but his days of hurting people are over. Physically, at least.” Delilah glanced back at the house. “Mercy’s threats had more teeth, if you catch what I mean. She said some of them could go to prison. Some of them would never get their reputations back. I wish I could remember more of the details. At my age, I’m lucky I can still find my way home, but those are the two things that stuck.”

Will recalled something she’d said earlier. “You told Bitty you overheard her threatening Mercy before dinner.”

“She fired her, is what Bitty did.” Delilah angrily shook her head. “Then, she told Mercy if she didn’t vote to sell the lodge, she’d end up with a knife in her back.”

That felt like a remarkable coincidence. But Bitty was small. She couldn’t drag Mercy to the lake. At least not without help. “What about Dave?”

“Greedy bastard.” Her mouth twisted in disgust. “He was voting to sell, too.”

That hadn’t been the question Will was asking, but now he wanted to know, “Why does Dave get a vote?”

“Cecil and Bitty legally adopted him twenty-odd years ago, which unfortunately means he’s part of the family trust. If you’re in the trust, you get a vote.”

Will needed another moment to reset, but for personal reasons. Dave hadn’t just gotten one family. He’d gotten two. “How did the adoption come about?”

“They found him slinking around the campgrounds like a feral cat. Cecil wanted to hand him over to the sheriff, but Bitty took a shine to him. She’s normally a cold fish, but Bitty’s got a very unhealthy relationship with that boy. She comes down on Mercy like a ton of bricks, she treats Christopher like a red-headed stepchild. Meanwhile, Dave can do no wrong. I dare say she’s the same way with Jon, probably because he’s the spitting image of his father. They all act like this is perfectly normal, by the way.”

Will didn’t question her about the fact that Dave was the equivalent of a half-uncle to his own son. He was uniquely qualified to understand the strange relationships that came out of the foster care system.

Instead, he asked, “What about Christopher? You called him something else.”

“Fishtopher. It’s a nickname Dave gave him. I was trying to be an asshole because he used to hate the name, but I guess he’s gotten used to it. That’s how Dave works. He wears you down until you just let him do what he wants to do.”

Will tried to steer her away from Dave. “Would Christopher hurt Mercy?”

“Who knows?” she asked. “He’s always been reclusive. Not eccentric-reclusive, more like serial-killer-collecting-women’s-panties-reclusive. And Chuck—they seem like two peas in a pod, lurking around the woods doing God knows what.”