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“The text Mr. Dalton sent has nothing to do with my client,” Ms. Ellison said.
“Jason might have been trying to turn you against your parents, but you were also working him. You confided details about your mother to Jason because you were mad at her. What you didn’t realize was that you opened a bigger can of worms than you had imagined. The more you told Jason about your mother, the madder he got. You woke a sleeping monster. Did you also tell him about Veronica and your father? Is that why he killed her?”
“You can never prove this,” Ms. Ellison said.
“No, I might not,” Zoe said. “But I can prove who killed Hadley Foster.”
“Mark Foster confessed,” Mrs. Bradford said.
“He did,” Zoe said. “We found the knife he used to stab himself shoved in a planter.”
“See, that proves my point,” Ms. Ellison said.
“It wasn’t the knife that killed Hadley. But we found that knife. It was in the creek near where her body was found. We’ve been in a drought, so the waters weren’t deep. We think Mark did throw the murder weapon into the creek, thinking it would get swept away, but it didn’t. Some of the blood on the knife was washed away, but as I’ve said many times before, blood travels into all kinds of cracks and crevices.”
Skylar folded her arms over her chest.
“For whatever reason, I think your mother announced she was moving out of the house,” Zoe said. “When you reached out to Jason and brought him into your mother’s life, I think it set off a chain reaction in her mind. She needed to escape her life, and maybe she talked to Mark Foster about leaving, but he knew after the family’s move from Oregon, he couldn’t afford to leave. We know Mark was sleeping on the couch. Maybe she decided Roger Dawson was the guy to take her away.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Skylar said.
“Whatever the reason, Hadley said she told Mark she was leaving. Did they have a fight after we told her Marsha’s body had been found?”
Skylar didn’t speak but simply stared at Zoe.
“You lost your temper. You were waiting for her when she came back from her morning run. And I think you two fought. Maybe you tried to reason with her. Maybe you tried to convince her that Jason wasn’t a bad guy. Whatever the reason, I bet you didn’t want your life upended again.”
“I liked living here,” Skylar said.
Zoe nodded. “But you didn’t convince her, and she left you in the kitchen. That’s when you grabbed the knife from the butcher block and followed her upstairs and stabbed her. Your father realized what had happened, but he was too late to save Hadley, so he tried to fix it. He put you and your mother in the car and dropped you at the motel. He gave you sleeping pills to keep you quiet while he dumped your mother’s body and then parked near your motel. He showered in your room and ran home. He stabbed himself and at 7:00 a.m. called 911 and reported the attack from the intruder.”
“That’s a nice story,” Skylar said. “But I loved my mom. I never would have hurt her.”
“I don’t think you planned it. But I think you snapped when she said she was leaving, and your temper got the better of you.”
“No,” Skylar said.
“When you stab someone, your hand gets slick with blood.” Zoe held up her left hand and slowly flexed the fingers. “And if you aren’t careful, the blade can slip. It’s not uncommon for the attacker to cut themselves and leave their own blood on the knife or, in this case, in the handle’s crevices.”
“I use that knife at home all the time,” Skylar said. “I’ve cut my hand on it before. And my dad confessed. He left a note and everything.”
“Mark did it to protect you. Jason might have tried to convince you otherwise, but in Mark Foster’s mind, you were his little girl. I wonder if he knew all along that the baby Hadley was carrying wasn’t his. I think that’s why they moved out west. He would have kept you both in Oregon if not for the trouble you got into. The only reason he came back here was because of the job. Maybe he thought the past was over and done, and you three could live a happy life here now.”
Tears welled in the young girl’s eyes. “No.”
“And then you test your DNA and show up at Jason’s garage. He knew from the moment he met you he would use you to get back at Hadley. Maybe he didn’t know how, but he figured sooner or later, he could turn you against your mother.”
Her shoulders drew back as she inhaled. “No. Jason wouldn’t do that. And I did love my mom.”
“We now have DNA evidence that proves Jason stabbed to death Veronica Manchester and Galina Grant. Both the women look very much like your mother, and we think he was using them as surrogates.”
For the first time, the defiance burning in the girl’s gaze cooled. “Jason wouldn’t do that.”
“He did do that. I can’t prove it, but I also think he killed your mother’s sister, Marsha. Cops didn’t take a hard look at him because he’d quit his job at Prince Paving and moved away.”
“You are lying,” Skylar whispered.
“Jason knew Mark was having an affair with Veronica. I’m not sure why he killed her. Maybe because he knew her death would eventually cast suspicion on Mark, or maybe she just looked so much like Hadley he couldn’t resist. And Galina Grant was just an easy target who had the misfortune to be Jason’s type.”
“Jason isn’t a monster. I’m not a monster. I loved my mother.”
“I have no doubt you loved your mother,” Zoe said. “And I bet if you could take back those few moments when you stabbed her, you would.”
Skylar looked as if she would say something, but then her face hardened in a way that reminded Zoe of Jason. “No, you’re wrong. I wouldn’t take it back.”
The girl was still very young and had suffered multiple traumas. She could live to regret those words. And then Zoe reminded herself that Jason hadn’t been much older than Skylar when he’d killed Marsha.
Vaughan rose. “Skylar Foster, you have the right to remain silent.”
EPILOGUE
Monday, September 16, 3:00 p.m.
The house had a lighter feel, as if for the first time in a decade, it had taken a deep breath. Zoe stood in the living room, arranging the furniture she had had reupholstered while a crew had stripped the old wallpaper, painted the walls a soft gray, and buffed the wood floors. Remodeling the living room and her bedroom certainly was not a complete renovation, but she could tackle the rooms bit by bit.
Her front doorbell rang, and she glanced out the window to see Vaughan. She smiled. It had been a week since they had seen each other, and she realized how much she had missed him.
She opened the door, and he leaned in and gave her a kiss with the kind of familiarity shared by close couples. “This is a nice surprise,” she said.
“I had DNA results I wanted to share with you.”
“How romantic.” She laughed.
“I thought you’d be impressed.” He stepped into the room and kissed her again.
Smiling, she stepped back. “What do you think of the room?”
He nodded with approval. “This looks great.”
