Page 108 of If We Never Met

"A long time ago, fifteen years now, there was a fire at my home. I was out of town with my wife and son. But our nanny, Gretchen, was in the house, and she died in the fire. She was Mandy's sister."

"Why does Mandy blame you for that if you weren't even there?" Dante asked.

"It's a long story."

"It's time to tell it," Keira said.

Mark's lips tightened, but then he gave a short nod. "All right. I will tell you the story. I didn't know until months after the fire that my wife had left our vacation rental and gone back to the house to talk to Gretchen. She did it in the middle of the night, and she was back before the police called early the next morning."

Her pulse leapt at his response. "Your wife set the fire?"

"I need to back up," Mark said. "You have to understand the context of what was going on."

"Take your time," her mother encouraged.

He gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ruth. My wife, Valerie, had mental health issues, some of which she took medication for. But when she would go off the meds, she would become unbalanced, paranoid, and unpredictable. I knew things were getting rocky with her, which is why I suggested a weekend away at the beach. We went to Malibu. It was less than an hour away from our house, but she loved the water, and I thought it would calm her down. I wanted us to reconnect as a family. When she was off her meds, she barely paid attention to our son, Richard. I knew that he was feeling neglected."

Mark cleared his throat. "That night," he continued, "Valerie started a fight with me. She accused me of having an affair with Gretchen, which was not true. I was not involved with the nanny, and I told Valerie that several times. She said she was so angry she was going to sleep in the extra bedroom. I didn't question it. I was relieved to have a break. I didn't want to fight with her, and I especially didn't want to do it in front of Richard. But sometime that night, after I went to bed, she took the car and drove back to the house. She later told me that she woke Gretchen up and made her come downstairs. Gretchen also denied anything was going on, and she apparently went back up the stairs while Valerie decided to drink and smoke cigarettes in the living room. At some point, Valerie left the house, but she also left her cigarette in the couch and it started the fire. There was a bottle of alcohol on the cushions and that blew up the fire. The police thought that Gretchen had been drinking and smoking before she went upstairs and that she had no idea what happened. She died in her bed."

"That's awful," her mother said, putting a comforting hand on Mark's arm.

"You said you didn't find this out for months," Keira interrupted, not wanting her mother to get Mark off track. "How is that possible?"

"Valerie was asleep in the guest room when I got the call about the fire," he replied. "I woke her up. She was disoriented. I dropped her and Richard off with Valerie's sister when I went to the house and spoke to the police. Later that day, when I got back to my sister-in-law's house, she said that Valerie was having a breakdown. I got her to the hospital, where she was admitted. I think she had tremendous guilt, and it was eating her up inside, so she couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything. She was basically catatonic. She was in a psychiatric facility for eight months before she finally started to come back to life. And then she started telling me stories about the fire. I honestly didn't know if they were true or not. I just knew that I had to protect my son. I divorced Valerie, and I took Richard to San Francisco. To this day, he blames me for taking him away from his mother and also for abandoning her when she was sick. But I didn't do that. I paid for her to get help for ten years after that. I wanted her to get better, but I couldn't have her around Richard unless she was stable."

"That makes sense," her mom said. "You had to protect your child."

"Why didn't you go to the police?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell them what Valerie did?"

His eyes turned bleak. "It had been almost a year since it happened, and I didn't even know if Valerie was telling me the truth. Or if she'd made up another story in her head."

"There was no proof that she went to the house that night?" Dante asked.

"None. We didn't have a security camera. None of our neighbors did, either. It was the middle of the night. I read the police report. No one came forward saying they'd seen anything. There was also no camera at the house in Malibu where we were staying. I suppose there might have been some way the police could have checked traffic cameras to see if our car was caught on any, but I didn't want to put Valerie or my son through an investigation that wouldn't change anything. Maybe that was wrong. But I just wanted to take Richard away from it all."

"Let's get back to Mandy," Dante interjected. "When did she find out that your wife set the fire? And why didn't she go to the police?"

"Mandy found out six years ago. My wife was sick, dying from cancer. She decided it was time to pay for her sins, so she told Mandy. She wanted to cleanse her soul."

"And then Mandy started blackmailing you," Keira guessed.

"Yes," he said, meeting her gaze. "Mandy threatened to go to the police and also to tell my son that his mother was a murderer. Valerie was finally in a better space. Richard was a freshman in college. He was actually happy. The truth would have destroyed them both, so I paid. It eased my guilt, too, to be honest. But Mandy wanted more and more and more. Right before I moved here, I told Mandy I was done paying her. My son is twenty-four now. He's an adult. He has his own life, and if he finds out the truth now, hopefully, he can handle it." Mark turned to her mother. "I was going to tell you, Ruth. But every time we were together, it was so much fun; I didn't want it to end, and I thought it might if you knew I was dealing with a blackmailer."

"Mandy came to this house," Keira put in. "You didn't think she could be a problem for my mother?"

Surprise filled his eyes. "She came here? When?"

"Sunday," her mother answered. "I assume it was her. There was a red-haired woman sitting in a car outside of the house."

"She must have been following me around this week. I never saw her. I'm sorry, Ruth. I should have told you."

"I can understand why you didn't," her mother said.

Keira sucked in a sharp breath as her mother let Mark off the hook. "I can't," she said harshly.

"It was complicated," her mother said, giving her a pointed look, then gazing back at Mark. "And it was part of your past."

"But Mandy isn't in the past," she interjected, bringing their attention back to her. "She's causing trouble. And we don’t know if she's done."

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