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Chapter Twenty-Two
Phoebe
Phoebe chased after her father as he strode with urgency through the desolate woods, his long strides carrying him swiftly over fallen logs and around thickets of brambles. She called out to him, begging him to stop, but he wouldn't even turn to look back at her.
"Arthur Grayson didn't kill Francie or your sister. I know who did, though…"
How could her father just drop a revelation like that and then walk away without any explanation?
"Dad, stop!" Phoebe called out, but he continued at a quick pace without turning back. She started to jog, her boots crunching over the frozen ground as she tried to catch up to him. "Who murdered Jenna? Tell me!"
Phoebe had to get in front of him, to block his path so he couldn't avoid her questions. She was finally able to gain the advantage and step in front of him. By this time, he had pulled his car keys from his pocket.
"Dad, talk to me!"
Kenneth sighed with impatience, his usual tender gaze hardened against the emotional tide of finally receiving closure. Neal's words kept reverberating through Phoebe's mind, and she was finally connecting the dots.
She sure as hell didn’t like the picture she was imagining in her mind.
"Phoebe, I...I shouldn't have said anything without proof. I don't know if…"
"Jenna wasn't afraid that you would hurt her. She was afraid of how you would react if you knew the truth," Phoebe whispered in disbelief as she instinctively glanced in Chloe's direction. Unfortunately, it had taken Phoebe some time to catch up to her dad, putting Chloe out of sight. Jenna was nowhere to be found, either. "Dad, no. It can't be."
Kenneth ran his gloved hand over his beard.
"I don't know for certain, Phoebe, I just...I have suspicions, that's all. I'll know more after I confront him."
"Him being Uncle Billy? Uncle Billy?" Phoebe needed to make sure that she and her father were on the same page. "We're talking about Aunt Trish's husband. Your brother-in-law. My uncle. The man who helped teach me and Jenna to ride bikes. Drive cars. Fish."
Kenneth compressed his lips in rage, but he still gave a slight nod of concession. Phoebe could only stare at her father in shock.
"Your mother was still pregnant with Jenna when I applied for a teaching job at the college." Kenneth peered down the path toward his vehicle, but he remained standing in front of her as if knowing she would never let him leave without some type of proof. "I got the job, and I couldn't wait to tell her. I walked through the front door to find Lilith consoling Trish. They were in the living room. Trish suspected Billy was having an affair."
"And when Francie went missing, you didn't think that was strange? If you knew that Ethan was Billy's son, why—"
"You don't understand, Phoebe. We never knew the identity of the woman." Kenneth paused when a gust of wind weaved its way through the trees. "I don't believe Trish even knew the woman’s name. I didn't make the connection back then. The timeframe makes sense, though. You have to remember that Francie didn't go missing until months after Ethan was born. By then, Trish and Billy were married and fixing up their house over on Ripple Lane. Why would anyone connect the two?"
Phoebe's mind was reeling, but she was also grasping on to the fact that her father had no proof. She would much rather go back and find that Principal Grayson had been the one to have an affair with Francie. The way he had been staring at Francie…or maybe Arthur Grayson had been staring at the person taking the picture.
"There's a chance we have it all wrong, Dad," Phoebe murmured with a hint of desperation. She was having difficulty processing her thoughts. "Uncle Billy couldn't have been that much older than Francie, right? Maybe you're reading too much into it."
"Bill is six years older than Trish. That would have made him twenty-five to Francie's age of nineteen at the time of the affair." Kenneth had lost all color in his face. "The day…the day that Jenna drowned, Billy and Trish were supposed to come over for dinner. I remember your mother crying on the porch when Trish drove up. She was by herself, though. Something about Billy having a flat tire. I never thought anything of it until today."
Kenneth straightened, closing his fingers into tight fists. Phoebe doubted that she was going to be able to stop him from leaving this time around. The ramifications of such accusations were devastating, and Phoebe began to understand why her sister hadn't said anything to anyone.
"Dad, we shouldn't say anything without proof. This could destroy our family." Phoebe stepped forward to desperately grab his hands. "Trish. Mom. We can't just—"
A blood-curdling scream sliced through the chilled air of the woods.
Phoebe's heart stuttered in fear. She instinctively shoved her father aside and bolted in Chloe's direction, which just so happened to be where the scream had emanated from. Phoebe's boots pounded the path, kicking up dead leaves and debris in her wake.
Her breath came out in harsh puffs as she rounded the curve of the path. She caught a glimpse of a dark figure sprinting after Chloe—the same imposing silhouette that had been following them. A sob caught in Phoebe's throat when she also recognized the man's frame.
Why hadn't she seen the resemblance before today?
There were no more doubts when it came to Uncle Billy’s guilt.
Phoebe screamed Chloe's name so that she would know help was on the way. Kenneth wasn't far behind, either. He called out to both of them, but she also heard his strained voice asking for help. Phoebe could only hope that he had dialed 911. She couldn't afford to slow down or look back, because there was no telling what would happen if she were to lose sight of Chloe.
