Harlan Coben - Fool Me Once

Judith wobbled a bit, like a fighter who was trying to take advantage of the eight count. The question had staggered her, no question about it. If the stagger came from the fact that she hadn’t known about the payoff or hadn’t expected Maya to find out about it was still anyone’s guess.

“Why would I pay off this Tom... What did you say his last name was?”

“Douglass. Two s ’s. And you tell me.”

“I have no idea. Andrew died in a tragic accident.”

“No,” Maya said. “That’s not how he died. But you know that already, don’t you?”

Judith’s face lost all color. The pain was so clear now, so obvious, that Maya almost looked away. Attack mode was all well and good, but whatever the final truth was, they were talking about the death of this woman’s child. Her pain was real and whole and consuming.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Judith said.

“How did it happen then?”

“What?”

“How exactly did Andrew fall off the boat?”

“Are you serious? Why would you be bringing that up now, all these years later? You never even knew him.”

“It’s important.” Maya took a step toward her former mother-in-law. “How did he die, Judith?”

She tried to hold her head up, but the fault lines wouldn’t let her. “Andrew was so young,” she said, trying her best to hold on. “There was a party on the yacht. He had too much to drink. The sea was rough. He was up on deck alone and fell off.”

“No.”

Judith’s voice was a snap. “What?”

For a split second, Maya thought that Judith was going to leap across the room and attack her. But the moment passed. Judith looked down, and when she spoke again her voice was soft, almost pleading.

“Maya?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you know about Andrew’s death.”

Was Maya being played here? It was hard to tell. Judith looked completely worn out, devastated. Did she really not know about any of this?

“Andrew committed suicide,” Maya said.

Judith tried very hard not to wince. She shook her head stiffly, just once. “That’s not true.”

Maya just gave it time, let her move past the rote denial.

When Judith did, she asked, “Who told you that?”

“Joe.”

Judith shook her head again.

“Why are you paying off Tom Douglass?” Maya asked again.

In war, they call it the thousand-yard stare, that blank, empty, unfocused gaze when a soldier has simply seen too much. Judith had something like that going on now.

“He was only a boy,” Judith muttered, and while Maya was the only one in the room, Judith wasn’t speaking to her. “He wasn’t even eighteen yet...”

Maya took a step toward her. “You really didn’t know?”

Judith looked up, startled. “I don’t understand what you’re after here.”

“The truth.”

“What truth? What does this have to do with you anyway? I don’t understand why you’d start digging this all up.”

“I didn’t dig it up. Joe told me.”

“Joe told you that Andrew committed suicide?”

“Yes.”

“He confided that to you?”

“Yes.”

“Yet all these years later, you felt compelled to defy his wishes and tell me.” Judith closed her eyes.

“I don’t mean to be bringing you pain.”

“Right,” Judith said with a sad chuckle, “I can see that.”

“But I need to know why you’d be paying off the Coast Guard officer who was investigating Andrew’s death.”

“Why would you need to know that?”

“It’s a long story.”

Judith’s chuckle was more pained than any sob. “Oh, I think I have time, Maya.”

“My sister found out about it.”

Judith frowned. “She found out about this supposed payoff?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“And then Claire was murdered,” Maya said. “And then Joe was murdered.”

Judith arched an eyebrow. “You’re saying they’re connected? Claire and Joe?”

So Kierce hadn’t told her. “The same gun killed them both.”

Maya’s words landed like another blow, staggering her back. “That can’t be.”

“Why can’t it be?”

Judith closed her eyes again, summoned some inner strength, opened them. “I need you to slow down and tell me what’s going on here, Maya.”

“It’s simple. You’re paying off Tom Douglass. I want to know why.”

“Seems to me,” she said, “you already figured that out.”

Judith’s sudden change in demeanor threw her. “The suicide?”

Judith managed a smile.

“You wanted to cover up a suicide?”

Judith stayed still.

“Why?” Maya asked.

“Burketts don’t commit suicide, Maya.”

Did that make sense? No, of course not. What was she missing? Time to change direction, get Judith back off her footing. “So why did you pay off Roger Kierce?”

“Who?” Judith made a face. “Wait. The police officer?”

“Yes.”

“Why on earth would we pay him?”

We . “You tell me.”

“I assure you I have no idea. Is this something else your sister supposedly uncovered?”

“No,” Maya said. “Caroline told me.”

Another small smile came to Judith’s lips. “And you believed her?”

“Why would she lie?”

“Caroline wouldn’t lie. But... she gets confused.”

“Interesting, Judith.”

“What?”

“You paid off two men. Both were investigating the deaths of your sons.”

Judith shook her head. “This is all a lot of nonsense.”

“Luckily, we can solve this easily,” Maya said. “Let’s ask Caroline.”

“Caroline isn’t around right now.”

“So call her. This is the twenty-first century. Everyone has a mobile phone. Here” — Maya held up her phone — “I have her number right here.”

“That won’t do any good.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say,” Judith continued, her words coming slower now, “Caroline can’t be disturbed.”

Maya lowered the phone to her side.

“She’s... Caroline isn’t well. This happens to her. She needs rest.”

“You put her in a loony bin?”

Maya had intentionally used the derogatory term to draw blood. It worked. Judith visibly cringed.

“That’s a horrible way to put it,” Judith said. “You of all people should be sympathetic.”

“Why ‘of all people’...? Oh, you mean because of my own issues with PTSD?”

Judith did not bother replying.

“So what trauma has Caroline faced?”

“Not all trauma occurs on the battlefield, Maya.”

“I know. Some might occur by having two brothers die young and tragically.”

“Precisely. Those traumas have caused issues to arise.”

“Issues to arise,” Maya repeated. “You mean, for example, Caroline thinking her brothers are still alive?”

Maya had expected that her words would be another blow, but Judith seemed ready this time. “The mind wants,” Judith said. “The mind can want so, so badly that it manifests delusions. Conspiracy theories, paranoia, visions — the more desperate you are, the more susceptible. Caroline is immature. That’s her father’s fault. He sheltered her and overprotected her. He never let her deal with adversity or stand on her own. So when the strong men in her life started to die — her support system — Caroline could not accept that.”

“So why wouldn’t you let her see Joe’s body?”

“She told you that?” Judith shook her head. “None of us saw Joe.”

“Why not?”

“You of all people should know why. My son was murdered. He was shot in the face, wasn’t he? Who would want to look at that?”

Maya considered that and decided once again it didn’t fully add up. “How about when Andrew was pulled out of the water?”