Page 100 of Mistletoe and Malice
“Absolutely. Marta had put such poison into his head—that Shane had stolen me away, that I favored Shane over him, that my wife controlled me and didn’t like him. All nonsense, but he was just a kid. Of course he was angry. Couldn’t stand Shane. Things finally came to a head when Warren almost killed him. If I hadn’t walked in—” He dipped his head.
Mrs. Everett put her arm around him, her eyes filled with tears. “Only ten years old and beaten by his own stepbrother. Can you imagine? We couldn’t have that boy here again. We just couldn’t. We were aware Warren wasn’t fond of him, but to do something like that? We were broken over it. It took a long time to heal from that.”
“We should’ve pressed charges,” Mr. Everett said. “I know we should’ve. But I felt so guilty. Like I was somehow the cause of his behavior. Family counseling—my wife, Shane, and myself—helped us see Warren’s choices weren’t our fault. I had tried everything to get custody of him when we divorced, but Marta always threatened to disappear with him. He was my son. I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing him again. Turned out that’s pretty much what happened, anyway.”
Mrs. Everett nodded. “Marta wouldn’t let him visit regularly. Always had an excuse as to why he couldn’t come. Once he was an adult, he only came around if he needed something. But we haven’t had any contact with him in about three years.”
“Did he attend the trial at all?” Colton asked.
Shane’s dad shook his head. “Not that we saw.”
John looked up from his notebook. “Do you know if Warren was fired from the country club or left on his own?”
“No. I only know he was suddenly without a job. Again.”
“Do you know where he worked after that?”
“Some fancy hotel downtown. In the kitchen. Warren was actually a pretty good cook. Had a few kitchen jobs.”
Colton exchanged a glance with John. “The Whitmore, by chance?”
“Yes. I believe that’s right.”
John scribbled in his notebook. “Is there anything else you can tell us about Warren? Any specific hobbies, habits, what he drives, where he spends his time?”
“The theater. He always loved working at the theater. The one thing he kept at for years. And by working, I mean volunteering. A community thing. Over in the Arts District.”
Colton sat up. “The theater? Doing what, do you know? Performing, directing …”
“Behind the scenes stuff. Building sets, graphic design for their posters and programs, costumes. Even makeup. He used to have a social media page where he posted photos of himself dressed up for Halloween in spectacular costumes. Completely unrecognizable. I told him he should find out how to make a living in that, but he never pursued it outside of that little theater.”
Colton’s stomach lurched.Completely unrecognizable.
“Do you have a current address?”
Mrs. Everett clasped her hands in her lap. “The last birthday card we sent him over a year ago came back as not deliverable. We have no idea where he is now.”
John shut his notebook. “You wouldn’t happen to have a photo, would you? From the past few years?”
She scrunched her mouth to one side. “Nothing over the age of thirteen or fourteen, when he was still coming for visits.”
“No problem. Thank you for your time today. If you think of anything else, please give me a call.” He placed a business card on the coffee table and stood.
The couple walked them to the door, where Mr. Everett regarded the detective. “This separate matter you mentioned. It doesn’t have anything to do with Shane’s case?”
“We don’t know enough yet to determine if they’re linked.”
The man’s eyes clouded as he swallowed. “You don’t think … that Warren … How would he have even known Caitlyn?”
“We don’t have any evidence of the kind right now. We’re following up on several leads. The strained relationship between the stepbrothers came up, so we said we’d look into it.”
There were no other leads, nothing of substance, but Colton understood why John would downplay the significance of this visit. No reason to concern the family at this point. Not until there was more to go on.
John tucked his notebook into his jacket pocket. “Unfortunately, that’s all I can tell you at this time. Once we know more, we’ll give you whatever information we can. In the meantime, if Warren should get in touch, please let me know.”
They walked out the door onto the front porch.
“Oh, I guess there is one other thing. I don’t know if it has any significance or not.”
