Karin Slaughter - Fallen

He looked embarrassed. Sara felt the same. Maybe that explained his standoffish mood. It seemed wrong for them to be together given what had happened to Evelyn Mitchell.

Still, Faith said, “It’s all right. I’m happy for you.”

Will didn’t acknowledge the comment. “Dr. Linton says you need to eat.”

“I need to talk to you first.”

Will looked at Sara. She shook her head.

“You need breakfast first.” Will opened the dishwasher and took out the frying pan. He found the eggs and bread in their proper place. Faith watched him make breakfast. She didn’t speak. Sara didn’t know if she was crashing or if she just didn’t know what to say. Probably a little of both. For her part, Sara had never felt so uncomfortable in her own home. She watched Will break the eggs and butter the toast. His jaw was rigid. He didn’t look up at her. She might as well have stayed in the bedroom.

Will took three plates out of the cabinet and loaded them up with food. Sara and Faith sat at the bar. Though there was a third chair, Will stood, leaning against the counter. Sara picked at her food. Faith ate half her eggs and a slice of toast. Will cleaned his plate, then finished Faith’s toast as well as Sara’s, before scraping the rest into the trash and stacking the plates in the sink. He rinsed the bowl that had held the eggs, ran some water in the frying pan, then washed his hands.

Finally, he said, “Faith, I have to tell you something.”

She shook her head. She must’ve known what was coming.

He stood with his back against the counter. He didn’t lean over and take her hands. He didn’t come around and sit beside her. He just told her the news straight out. “Last night, I was at Coastal State Prison. I talked to a man who’s pretty high up in the drug trade. Roger Ling.” He kept his eyes focused on hers. “There’s no other way to say this. He told me that your mother was killed. Shot in the head.”

She didn’t respond at first. She sat there with her elbows on the counter, hands hanging down, mouth open. Eventually, she said, “No, she’s not.”

“Faith—”

“Did you find the body?”

“No, but—”

“When was this? When did he tell you?”

“Late, around nine o’clock.”

“It’s not true.”

“Faith, it’s true. This guy knows what he’s talking about. Amanda says—”

“I don’t care what Amanda says.” She dug around in her pockets again. “Mandy doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Whoever this guy is who you talked to was lying.”

Will glanced at Sara.

“Look,” Faith said. She had an iPhone in her hands. “Do you see this? It’s Jeremy’s Facebook page. They’ve been sending messages.”

Will pushed away from the counter. “What?”

“I met one of them last night. At the grocery store. He did this.” She indicated the bruises on her face. “I told him I had to have proof of life. He emailed me through Jeremy’s Facebook account this morning.”

“What?” Will repeated. The color had drained from his face. “You met him alone? Why didn’t you call me? He could’ve—”

“Look at this.” She showed him the phone. Sara couldn’t see the image, but she heard the sound.

A woman’s voice said, “It’s Monday morning. Five thirty-eight.” She paused. There was background noise. “Faith, listen to me. Don’t do anything they say. Don’t trust them. Just walk away from this. You and your brother and the kids are my family. My only family …” Suddenly, the voice grew stronger. “Faith, this is important. I need you to remember our time together before Jeremy—”

Faith said, “It stops right there.”

Will asked, “What’s she talking about? The time before Jeremy?”

“When I was pregnant.” Her cheeks colored, though almost twenty years had passed. “Mom stayed with me. She was …” Faith shook her head. “I wouldn’t have made it through without her. She just kept telling me to be strong, that it would be over eventually and then everything would be all right.”

Sara put her hand on Faith’s shoulder. She could not imagine the pain that the other woman was going through.

Will stared at the iPhone. “What’s on the television set behind her?”

“ Good Day Atlanta . I checked with the station. This is the weather segment they aired half an hour ago. You can see the time over the station logo. I got the file two minutes later.”

He handed Sara the phone, but still would not look her in the eye.

Curiosity had always been her weakness. Sara’s reading glasses were on the counter. She slipped them on so she could see the small details. The screen showed Evelyn Mitchell sitting beside a large plasma-screen TV. The sound was off, but Sara saw the weather woman pointing to the five-day forecast. Evelyn was looking off-camera, probably at the man filming her. Her face was a bloody mess. She moved stiffly, as if in a great deal of pain. Her words slurred as she began, “It’s Monday morning.”

Sara let the video play out, then put the phone down.

Faith was watching Sara closely. “How does she look?”

Sara took off her glasses. She could hardly render a medical opinion based on a grainy video, but it was obvious to anyone that Evelyn Mitchell had been very badly beaten. Still, she said, “She looks like she’s holding up.”

“That’s what I thought.” Faith turned to Will. “I told them I’d meet them at noon, but the email says twelve-thirty. Mom’s house.”

“Your mother’s house?” he repeated. “It’s still an active crime scene.”

“Maybe it’s been released. APD isn’t telling me anything. Let me find the email.” Faith moved her thumbs across the screen again and handed the phone to Will. “Oh,” she said, reaching for the device. “I forgot—”

“I’ve got it.” Will took Sara’s glasses off the counter and slipped them on. He stared at the phone for a few seconds. Sara couldn’t tell if he’d read the email or was just making a lucky guess when he said, “They want the money.”

Faith took the phone away from him. “There is no money.”

Will just stared at her.

“It’s not true,” Faith said. “It was never true. You couldn’t prove anything. She wasn’t dirty. Boyd and the rest of them were on the take, but Mom never took anything.”

“Faith,” Will said. “Your mother had a bank account.”

“So what? Everyone has a bank account.”

“An out-of-state bank account. It’s in your father’s name. She still has it. There’s been about sixty grand in and out of it as far as I can tell. There might be other accounts in other states, other names. I don’t know.”

Faith shook her head. “No. You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Because you can’t admit that you were wrong about her. She wasn’t dirty.” Tears filled her eyes. She had the look of someone who knew the truth but could not accept it. “She wasn’t.”

There was another knock at the door. Sara guessed that Abel Conford had finally noticed the extra cars in the parking lot. Wrong again.

“Good morning, Dr. Linton.” Amanda Wagner did not look pleased to be standing in the hallway. Her eyes were red. The makeup had been wiped off her nose. Her skin was darker where foundation and blush covered her cheeks.

Sara opened the door wider. She tightened her robe again, wondering where the nervous tic had come from. Perhaps it was because she was completely naked underneath and the black silk was as thin as crepe paper. She hadn’t planned on hosting a party this morning.

Faith seemed incensed to see Amanda. “What are you doing here?”

“Roz Levy called. She said you stole her car.”

“I left a note.”