Page 124 of Tear Me Apart
“Impossible.”
Juliet smiles grimly. “That’s what I said. They ran it four times. I’ve looked at the results myself. There’s no mistake, Lauren. You were there. The police are going to come for you, and they aren’t going to be as open and willing to hear your story as I am.”
Lauren sits back in her chair, regards her sister. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact. Lauren. For God’s sake, how did your DNA get there? If you tell me the truth I might be able to help you, figure out a plausible story.”
Lauren laughs, oddly hollow, plastic. It is a stranger’s laugh, cruel and mocking. Fear skitters down Juliet’s spine. When Lauren speaks, it is in a stranger’s voice. No affect. No warmth. Unrecognizable.
“You’re offering to help me lie to the police? Why, Juliet, I didn’t know you had it in you. You’re so straitlaced. So perfect.” She spits out the last word, and Juliet hears the years of resentment. She has never understood why Lauren despises her so much.
“I am far from perfect, but, Lauren, you’re my sister. Mindy is my niece. I’m trying to protect this family, what’s left of it, anyway. Tell me the truth. Did you kill Vivian Armstrong?”
“You can’t possibly think I’m going to fall to my knees and give you a grand confession.” Lauren sighs and pushes back from the table. “I need more tea for this. You?” She doesn’t wait for Juliet to answer, snags her cup and steps into the kitchen. Juliet lets her, knows she’s gathering herself. She saw the lies beginning to form in Lauren’s eyes moments before she stood up.She’s thinking. She’s planning what she’s going to say. How she’s going to spin this vicious truth.
The realization of this is worse than knowing her sister’s DNA is at the scene of a violent crime. Juliet knows nothing that comes from Lauren’s mouth from here on out will be the truth, and the realization creates a fissure inside of her. Her sister is a murderer. A kidnapper. And what else?
Lauren comes back like a hostess serving a party—teapot on the tray, the two cups aligned, the local honey she knows Juliet loves, shortbread. Bribes, a tray of bribes.
“I didn’t add any honey since you always say I short you. Here’s the whole jar. Are you hungry? I’m famished.” She takes her cookies and tea and strides to the fireplace.
Juliet watches her for a minute, then shrugs and puts a dollop of honey in her tea. Lauren never does sweeten it properly. Stirs, tastes. It is overly sweet, but she tops off the cup from the teapot and sips some more. Better, but not perfect.
“Lauren, I want to know what the hell happened in Nashville.”
“Yes,” Lauren says, almost to herself. “Knowing you, I have to tell you something, or you’re going to go screw up everything I’ve spent my life building.”
She comes back to the table, sits heavily across from Juliet. “It’s time for you to know the truth. Yes, Vivian and I knew each other. We met years ago, in Nashville. We were friends in our teens, kept up with each other after we moved to Colorado. She helped me through the divorce, the miscarriage. She was pregnant too, at the time. We supported each other, and once she was the only one carrying a child, I supported her. And then she got sick. Sick enough that she knew she was going to die. She asked me to keep Mindy safe for her. She was afraid of what Zack would do to the girl.”
“Afraid of Zack? He’s the dad.”
“He’s a stone-cold killer. She told me time and again how afraid she was of him. How she hoped he’d die in combat and never come back because she never knew when he’d forget who she was in the middle of the night and slit her throat. She was terrified of him coming home permanently. She was scared to death what he would do to the baby, what—”
“We’re talking about the same Zack Armstrong, right? My God, Lauren, he’s one of the kindest, gentlest men I’ve ever met.”
“You know nothing about him. And you would be well advised to cut off whatever little romance you’re having with him because he is not safe. Not at all.”
“Romance? I’ve known him less than a week.”
“I see how he looks at you. And how you look at him. You think no one notices, but I’ve seen it all.”
Juliet hears the bitterness in Lauren’s voice, but presses onward.
“There is nothing going on. Now tell me what in the world you’re saying about Vivian Armstrong being afraid of him.”
“Drink your tea, it’s getting cold.”
Juliet takes a sip, even though the mint with the honey isn’t a good combination.
“Knowing she was going to die at his hand, she asked me to see the baby safe. She couldn’t risk him hurting the baby. He had another six months on his tour, but they usually give compassionate leave when a baby is due. She knew he was going to get leave when she was so close to her due date. So she researched ways to induce labor. She had to keep the baby safe.”
“Induce labor?”
“Yes. When he was shot and was sent home from Afghanistan early, she had to move up the timetable. It was luck his mother got sick. She encouraged him to go to her, and the minute he left, Vivian took castor oil so she’d go into labor before he came home. She called me, said she was pulling the trigger. I got in the car and drove like a bat out of hell—you know that’s normally a two-day trip, from Denver to Nashville? I made it in a little less than eighteen hours, straight through. She was lucky, she was able to get her labor going, had the baby without incident. She’d just gotten rid of the midwife when I arrived. I hugged my friend and took her child to be my own. It was what she wanted. For Mindy to be safe.”
“Right. And then somehow she got herself stabbed to death at the same time?”
Lauren looks over at the mountains. “You’ll have to talk to Zack about that. Supposedly he was still out of town, but we all know how crafty he is. He could very easily have made the drive, killed her, then driven back to his mother’s funeral. He got away with it, and he’s been searching for me ever since.”
