Page 24 of When You're Forgotten

Amelia had suggested Judd might be in one of the rooms.Finn checked a couple of side parlors—each empty, with chairs and tables arranged neatly, no occupant.He moved deeper, steps echoing until he glimpsed a shape crossing a hallway far ahead.

He hastened his pace, suspecting it might be Judd.Rounding the corner, he saw a door shutting, as though someone had just entered a room.However, when Finn opened that door, he found the place vacant.Dust motes floated in the beam of a single window.A hush pressed on him.He muttered under his breath, “This place is going to drive me mad.”

He shut the door behind him and wandered on, eventually noticing a wide double door with frosted glass panels—perhaps a games room or lounge.Sure enough, from inside came the faint click of billiard balls.Finally, he might have found Judd.

Pushing the door open, he discovered a spacious games room with tall windows letting in bright sunlight.A green-felt billiards table dominated the center, polished cues resting along one side.Shelves on the walls housed board games, old trophies, and a few dusty sports paraphernalia.There, leaning over the table to line up a shot, stood Judd Aspen—tall, broad-chested, mid-forties, wearing a casual jacket that looked a bit too nice for every day.

At Finn’s entrance, Judd straightened, pressing the cue lightly against the table.“Finn,” he greeted in a low voice.“Thanks for coming.Or… finding me, rather.”

Finn offered a polite dip of his head.“You asked to speak, so I’m here.Did you want privacy?”He glanced around, verifying the room was empty aside from the two of them.

Judd waved a hand, though he kept his voice low.“I’d rather no one else overhear, yes.Particularly Marianne.”He set the cue aside on the table’s edge.

Finn folded his arms, feeling a faint twinge in his still-aching scalp.“All right.Let’s talk.Something we should know?”

Judd hesitated, then beckoned Finn closer, so they stood by the side of the billiards table, away from the door."First, let me say that James was my best friend since we were boys.He took me in when my own marriage failed.Let me crash here because my ex-wife booted me from the house.James was a decent man—if a bit misguided near the end."

“Misguided how?”Finn asked.

“He got into questionable deals, tried to keep the estate afloat.But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.I’m more concerned about Marianne and James’s relationship.He never had an easy time with her from the start.I told him not to marry her.She—”

Judd’s voice caught, and he sighed.“I believe she was after his money.Or at least, the perception of his money.The entire Penrose fortune was crumbling, but she didn’t know that initially.”

Finn gave him a measured look.“Suspicion of her motives is one thing, but do you think she had anything to do with James’s death?”

Judd’s lips thinned.“Yes, I do.I suspect she might’ve hired someone or orchestrated it in some way.I can’t prove it.But I found this.”He slipped a folded piece of paper from an inner pocket, then handed it to Finn.“Found it rummaging around in her private drawers.I was worried she might be up to something after James told me they’d had huge fights about finances.”

Finn carefully unfolded the letter.The handwriting was neat, but the content was partial.It was addressed to someone only identified as “B,” and it read:“Sometimes I wish something would happen to James, so the children and I can have a new life.I’m tired.Tired of this old chilly Hall full of relics.It feels like a millstone around our necks.I’m tired of everything.”At the bottom, it was signedMarianne.

Finn felt a prickle run up his spine.“This is… quite direct,” he said, eyebrows raised.“But it’s not proof she hired a killer, just that she was frustrated or resentful.”

Judd nodded, expression grim.“Sure, but put it together with her potential gold-digging motives, and you see why I’m worried.”

Finn’s gaze drifted to the letter again.“Does she know you took this?”

Shaking his head, Judd answered, “I doubt it.She likely suspects someone found it, but not who.The drawer was locked.I may have forced it a bit.”

A moment of silence passed.Finn folded the letter, returning it to Judd’s hand.“You realize you’re accusing her of possible murder with very little evidence beyond a letter expressing exasperation.”

Judd’s jaw clenched.“It’s more than exasperation—she was wishing harm on her own husband.Doesn’t that raise alarms?”

Finn slipped his hands in his pockets, trying to remain objective.“Yes, it does.But people say a lot of things in anger.Still, we’ll keep it in mind.Thank you for coming forward with this.”

Judd took the letter back, tucking it away.His gaze flickered toward the door, as though worried Marianne might stride in any moment.“Listen, maybe I can’t prove it.But James confided in me that Marianne was demanding more money, that she threatened to leave with the children if he didn’t maintain their lifestyle.He was already in deep trouble financially.If you ask me, she saw how precarious it was and saw only one way to fix it: get rid of him—inherit what was left, maybe.Insurance, the house, everything.”

Finn pressed his lips together.“We’ll investigate.Just… keep your eyes open, and if you recall anything else, let me know.”

Judd dipped his head.“I will.I just want James’s death avenged if it was a murder.He deserved better than a traitor wife.”

Finn offered a mild nod, letting Judd’s words resonate.The man was clearly emotional, fueled by loyalty to James and bitterness toward Marianne.But whether those emotions translated into facts was another question.“I appreciate your candor,” Finn said quietly.“Let’s keep this between us for now.”

Judd exhaled, nodding in agreement.Then he turned back to the billiards table, picking up the cue.“All right.Thanks, Finn.Good luck figuring out the truth.”

Finn stepped away, heading back toward the door.“The truth has a way of wanting to be found,” he replied softly.

As he left the games room, the corridors of Brynmor Hall once again surrounded him with hush and old grandeur.The midday sun poured in, lighting dust motes drifting in the beams.Clutching the possibility of a new suspicion—that Marianne Penrose might have had reason to want her husband gone—Finn felt a fresh wave of uncertainty.The letter, the break-in, the ghostly rumors, the financial meltdown: each strand knotted into a tapestry of hidden motives and possible deception.

Still, he had a job to do, and an entire family—plus staff—on edge.Soft footfalls echoed down the corridor, Amelia’s voice calling from somewhere.Finn closed his eyes momentarily, letting the swirl of thoughts settle.Then he moved forward, returning to the manor’s heart to report what he’d learned, even as a quiet foreboding nagged at him: if Judd was right, and Marianne truly wanted James gone, how far would she go to achieve that?

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