Page 29 of Sean

“We’d only be gone a day,” Julia said, finding her voice. “And if it’s a problem, I suppose I don’t have to go. Sean could ask the questions.”

“If you feel like you should be there, then you go and take as much time as you need,” Kelly said. “Amos and Lucy’ll be safe with us. We’ll work out a schedule to make sure that at least two adults are nearby them at all times.”

“Thank you,” Julia said, feeling reassured. The exhaustion she’d been keeping at bay for the past hours hit her, making her yawn. “I think I’m going to get some sleep. Enjoy the movie. Goodnight, everyone.”

As she left the living room, she saw Sean take a seat on the sofa between his sisters. That was a good thing. He needed to spend time with his family. She didn’t have all the details of what had driven them apart, but she knew all too well that family should stick together when they had the chance. You never knew what life had in store.

FIFTEEN

Julia stepped out of Sean’s truck after the three-hour drive to Virginia Beach, feeling stiff and nervous. Her eyes swept over the well-maintained home in one of the city’s older neighborhoods. It was a lovely area. She wished she were here for a party or a photo shoot and not the reason they were.

“Nice place,” Sean said as he came around to her side of the vehicle. “You sure you’re okay? I can go in alone if you need me to.” While they were on the road, Sean had called the couple, Gail and Jacob Westman, to make sure they’d be home. He hadn’t stated their exact purpose in coming. Instead, he’d mentioned that he had some questions about the couple’s previous residence.

“I want to do this.” A curtain moved aside at a window near the front door, a face appearing briefly. Julia started moving up the sidewalk to the porch. She was anxious but determined to get answers. Before she reached the door, it swung open and a man stepped out—late fifties, athletic and trim in appearance.

“Jacob Westman?” Sean asked. “I’m Sean Miller. Thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice. This is Julia Hart.”

“Mira Wilson’s sister.” The man studied her. “I can definitely see the resemblance. Come on in.” He led them through the house to a three-season room that looked out onto a neat backyard. A woman with bobbed blond hair and a softly lined face rose to greet them. Jacob made the introductions and they all sat.

A moment of awkward silence fell. All the way here, Julia had been thinking about how to open this conversation, but she hadn’t hit on a way to do it that wasn’t jarring.

“How long have you lived here?” Sean asked to break the ice.

“Just over a year. We decided that condo living wasn’t for us anymore, that it was time to have a true home. Gail and I have only been married for five years.”

Julia’s gaze swung to the family pictures in the room that showed what looked to be adult children and young grandchildren.

“It’s the second time around for both of us,” Gail explained. “My, you do look like your sister. Poor Mira. Her life was…challenging. I assume that’s what you’ve come to talk about.”

“Yes,” Julia said and made herself plow ahead. “Specifically, we want to ask you about anything you might have heard on the night she died.”

The Westmans looked at each other, a silent question going between them. “We understood that she passed in a car accident,” Jacob said. “We felt so bad for the children. They were too young to lose their mother like that.”

Sean stepped in. “We came across some new information—traffic camera footage that shows that Mira may have already been dead at the time of the accident. That she may have died at home and been moved.” Another exchanged look. “Do you remember anything about that night?”

“We do,” Gail answered. “Our bedroom shared a wall with the Wilson’s bedroom. When it got loud, we could hear them.”

“Did it often get loud?” Sean asked.

“Yes, quite a lot,” Jacob said, “so we weren’t surprised when we heard that they were headed for a divorce.”

“They were?” What was this? Her sister had never said anything to her about that.

“You didn’t know? About a month before her death, Mira and I got stuck together in the elevator for about ten minutes, so we had time to chat,” Gail explained. “She apologized for the noise and told me that she didn’t expect to be living there much longer. She’d contacted a divorce attorney and was getting everything lined up to get full custody of the kids. That was her primary worry. That and having money her husband couldn’t access. I recommended she get an account at the bank we use.”

“Oh,” Julia squeaked out. She was completely blown away by this information. Mira must have been feeling desperate and trapped. Julia wished she’d been around to help—that her sister could have confided in her instead of a neighbor in the elevator. Sean touched her knee fleetingly, but it was enough to ground her. She couldn’t change the past, but she could get justice for her sister and keep her niece and nephew safe.

“What else can you tell us?” Sean asked. “Was there anything that stands out about the night Mira died?”

“The yelling lasted longer than usual. We could hear Mira bring up the divorce. Then the fight ended suddenly with a loud thump. We didn’t think…”

“Had that happened before?” Sean prodded.

“Yes. I feel so bad now.” Gail held her hand to her stomach as though she’d be sick. “Why didn’t we help her?” she asked her Jacob. “We guessed she was being abused by her husband, that Wilson was hitting her, and we did nothing to intervene.”

“We had offered once before to go to the police with her,” Jacob said. “That was right after the little boy was born, but Mira said they were working it out.”

Julia was still speechless, sorting through what she’d heard. She could understand the weight of guilt coming off the couple. She, too, felt guilty for not seeing the situation for what it was and acting.

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