“Noah pulled away after Natalie’s rape.” Sue misted a row of rose bushes, smoothing the dying flowers instead of plucking them off. “From me, his father, his friends, everyone.”
“Natalie?” I asked.
The sprinkle of water connecting with flowers was the only sound for a while, then Sue exhaled. “Natalie drifted away from us all first.”
She adjusted the dial to fill my watering can when it was empty. Sue’s backyard rivaled any master gardener’s; she grew everything from herbs and vegetables to flowers and greenery I couldn’t name a quarter of. Even at the end of the growing season, her garden was more vibrant than most at the peak of summer.
“When Noah and you got married, I hoped he was making a turn.” Sue curved back to her roses when the can was full, one brow lifting at me. “But I’ve spent enough time around you two to realize Noah still keeps a large part of him closed off from everyone. He’s afraid.”
My chest squeezed, contemplating the torment Noah had gone through and felt compelled to keep hidden from me. His wife. Companion. Partner. The very person who should be counted upon to share his burdens.
“Afraid of what?” I asked, staring at the pot of dahlias, wondering how something so beautiful could survive the malevolence that saturated the air.
Sue turned down the fence, moving on to her next section of flora. “Failing someone else he loves.”
My throat burned. “You think that’s why he’s so distant?”
Sue crouched to tend to the next plant down the line. “I know it is. You see, one evil act creates a snowball effect, not content with the destruction it caused in that single moment. One seed of wrong takes root, sets it lines deep, and like a noxious weed, spreads its disease. Fifteen minutes in a public restroom has tainted the lives—ruined some of those lives—of innumerable souls.”
I watched Sue fussing over her beloved plants that were on the cusp of dormancy and growth, feeling a newfound respect and understanding for this woman I’d labeled as cold and removed. It was as much a coping mechanism as it was a side effect of experiencing both of your children slipping away in their own ways.
It wasn’t until she gently brushed her fingers across a white flower that I realized what kind of plant she was crouched in front of.
“Clematis.” The word exploded breathlessly from my mouth as I took in the plant with wide eyes.
“You know it?” she asked, moving from one bloom to the next, cupping each one as though it were a treasured possession.
“Recently acquainted with it.” I kneeled beside her, examining the plant. It was three times the size of the one I’d seen at the Price household. “Let me guess, you received it as a gift shortly after the man who attacked Natalie died?”
Her head turned my direction, surprise in her eyes. “How did you know that? It came the day after Robert Creeden died.”
The watering can dropped from my hand. “Robert Creeden?” My mind reeled. Natalie Wolff’s name hadn’t been on the victim list associated with his record. “He’s the man who raped Natalie?”
Sue’s posture stiffened, her infinitesimal nod answering my question.
“When Natalie recognized him on television, she didn’t come forward because of the statute of limitations,” I said, more to myself than Sue as I connected dots I hadn’t known existed until moments ago.
“She wouldn’t have come forward, regardless. As it is with most victims who are consumed by so much guilt and shame they forget their own self-worth.” Sue took a breath, her back trembling as she did. “Victims don’t speak up because, more often than not, they aren’t believed. They’re told their abuse is a fabrication, an elaboration, or a manifestation stemming from inappropriate behavior. Natalie was raped once by an evil man. She couldn’t stand the idea of another rape at the hands of an immoral system.”
As Sue went back to preening a handful of dead leaves, brushing away a couple of dandelion seeds, my mind reeled with too many questions and too few answers. Why wouldn’t Noah have told me Natalie was raped by the same man I’d been assigned to investigate? Why hadn’t he told me about her assault in the first place?
As the stirrings of the first panic attack I’d felt in weeks manifested, I forced my mind to make a detour. I let myself feel the oxygen fill my lungs before asking my next question. “Do you have any idea who might have left the plant for you?”
“Of course I do.” The way she said it, the knowing tone, made my blood chill before she finished her thought. “Noah gave it to me.”
The world spun one quick revolution, causing me to teeter from where I kneeled beside the gift my husband had given his mother following the death of the man who’d eviscerated his sister.
A gift.
A plant.
A damning piece of evidence.
His name tumbled from my lips, coated with both doubt and knowing.
“He said it was for Natalie,” Sue continued, oblivious to my entire world imploding beside her. “So whenever I looked at it, I’d be reminded of her—the good memories.”
Bracing my hands against the ground, I made sure I was steady before rising. “Sue, I’ve got to go.” My head swam with dizziness when I was upright, but the sensation passed.
“Grace, are you all right?” Sue’s face flashed with concern when she glanced at me. “You’re white as these flowers.”
“I’m fine.” I forced a smile to the surface, backing away a few steps.
She rose, letting the hose hang from her side. For a moment, I caught a fleeting flicker of the concern in her eyes I sometimes found in Noah’s. The brand that was tinted with pain.
“After Natalie and Noah, I know when someone’s hiding behind that kind of assurance.” Sue approached me. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
My heart pounded against my ribcage, feeling as though it were capable of cracking bone. “You already have. But I’ve got to get home now.”
“I thought you had families you were meeting with today.”
“I did. I do.” I slid out of the gardening shoes when I reached the patio and threw on my flats, knowing my flight didn’t leave for another six hours. “I just . . . I don’t know what to do right now.”
Sue stopped following me, clearly well versed in dealing with erratic behavior. “I’ll say the same thing to you I used to tell my children when they weren’t sure what to do.” She stared at the sky, smiling as though she were seeing an old friend. “Consider what is right and wrong before you act. That usually clears up the fog so you can find your way again.”
“Goodbye, Sue,” was all I could say before rushing through her slider, unable to stand in front of her another second with the revelation now in my possession. She’d lost one child. How could I confess she might lose another?
I’d never been so thankful for paying the extra money to have a car wait. As soon as I crawled into the back seat, I instructed the driver to head back to the airport. Before we’d left the curb, I was already calling my next meeting to let them know I’d have to cancel. The interviews, the evidence, the endless files of information I’d spent sleepless nights scouring had all come to an abrupt head. I’d gone from no suspects to one in the span of a half hour conversation with my mother-in-law.