“Oh, really?” Grande asks.
“That is very simplified,” Laurie says. “There’s a lot more to it than just that.”
“But that is the essence of the storyline, isn’t it?” Jonathan asks.
Laurie exhales. She’s biting her lip anxiously. Her shoulders slump, and her face flusters.
“When did you know?”
“I figured it out pretty quickly. At first, it was the thing about you not being used to the heat, when you grew up in Florida. That struck me as odd. You mentioned the weather a lot like it was a surprise to you. Also, the way you described a roach like you had never killed one before. I am a Florida man myself, and when growing up down there, you’re used to roaches, snakes, and even gators roaming the neighborhood. That was the first time I started wondering. But what had me most interested were the names. It wasn’t until you were about halfway through your little story that it occurred to me. I had heard those names before. They are all in this book. All the names in your little story were taken from it. Like…let’s take Vera Donovan, for instance. In your story, she’s your friend and sister to the woman who was murdered in Afghanistan. In the book, she is the woman Dolores Claiborne works for. Her sister Clarice is also the name of Vera’s sister in the book. Lisa McCandless, also called Lotty in the book, was a friend of Dolores, while Chip was her doctor. Frank was a police officer, Sandra someone who used to work for Vera, and Ted Kenopensky was a friend. Do you want me to go on? Because there’s a lot of them. All the way down to the names of the people in your childhood, Mike Stargill and Shawna Wyndham. All are names you can find in this book. The only names that weren’t made up were Laurie, Ryan, Isabella, and Damien. Because you had to keep those real to make them match the driver’s license and the ID of the man we found drowned in the mud. But you made the mistake of thinking that none of us were Stephen King fans and would remember the names from one of his books. But I guess you were out of luck. As I said, I have a thing for names. I tend to remember them.”
Detective Grande stares at Jonathan, mouth gaping. “So…wait a minute…you’re telling me, it was all a…lie?”
Jonathan sends her a compassionate smile. “Not all of it.”
He looks at the woman sitting on the bed. She is looking down at her fingers, rubbing them excessively.
“Come to think of it, I think a lot of it was true, actually,” he continues. “The names were changed to make it harder to verify. Clarice was the story of a real woman who was raped and probably murdered during deployment. Laurie was a woman who thought her husband had killed their neighbor and other people from his unit. Frank was also the brother who tried to revenge his sister by killing those involved. But I don’t think he was alone, was he? He had his sister to help him. I think they worked together on this, on revenging the death of their beloved sister.”
Jonathan is looking at the woman on the bed, waiting for her to start talking. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him.
“His sister?” Grande says. “You mean Vera?”
“Yes. Except that isn’t her real name.”
“But…she died,” Grande says.
“That’s the part of the story I don’t believe is true,” Jonathan says. “That is why it was left out when Frank confessed to having killed so many people. See, the thing is, you forgot that he needed a motive. You wanted us to believe Vera was dead, so we wouldn’t go looking for her, so we wouldn’t suspect that she is really…you.”
Grande points at the woman. “But…this is Laurie…right?”
Jonathan sends her another smile and waits for the dime to drop.
“Oh. So, she’s not Laurie?”
“No,” Jonathan says. “She looks like her; they both have red hair, and she could pass for her when looking at her old driver’s license in her purse. But the pants are too big and too long. This is Laurie’s best friend, passing for her, trying to get away with murder by calling it self-defense. See, Vera here, or whatever your real name is, was close to Laurie. Laurie told her everything, down to the smallest detail. It was easy for her to tell us Laurie’s story instead of her own, especially when it’s your secret dream to become an author and coming up with stories is what you are darn good at. See, that was another mistake you made. For someone who never read books, Laurie knew a little too much about famous mystery characters.”
“So…you’re telling me this is Vera, and she has been telling us the story seen from Laurie’s perspective?” Grande asks.
“Yes, by pretending to be Laurie, she hoped she could get away with murder. She knew everything there was to know about her best friend—all she had gone through when thinking her husband was a murderer because she shared every detail. This way, she hoped to buy herself enough time to get away, maybe start a new life in Canada or somewhere else. She knew we’d eventually check her story but hoped she could make it away before we did.”
“Why do you keep mentioning Laurie in the past tense?” Grande says, narrowing her eyes.
Jonathan nods and bites his lip. “Because I think she’s dead. Isn’t it true?”
He looks at the woman in front of them. She’s still not talking. He’s trying not to get himself worked up or raise his voice at her, even though that’s what he wants to do. He needs her to start talking soon.
“I think if we take an extra look up at that cabin, we’ll find her body, am I not right? But it must be well-hidden for the technicians to have missed it. What did you do with her body? Bury it?”
He can tell he’s getting to her now. Her nostrils are flaring, and she’s shifting on the bed like she can’t sit still properly.
“What did you do with Laurie’s body!” he says, finally raising his voice and giving in to his temper.
She’s looking at her feet now when a tear escapes her eye. Then, she nods. “There’s…an old swing in the backyard by the big magnolia tree. I buried her behind that. I covered it up by placing a couple of rocks on top of it. She’s not buried very deep. I didn’t have much time.”
Jonathan exchanges a look with Grande, who rises to her feet with her phone in her hand. She calls someone, and Jonathan listens to her to give them instructions before she hangs up.
“They’re on their way,” she says, then returns.
Finally, the woman looks up, and her eyes meet Jonathan’s. He sees honesty and vulnerability in them that he hasn’t seen any other day when hearing her tell the story. This is the real deal; this is her: no façade, no more acting, no more lying.
“I didn’t kill her, though,” she says in almost a whisper.
“So, who did?” Jonathan asks. “Tell us who killed Laurie.”
She exhales, her hands shaking. “Laurie went to the cabin with Frank, whose real name is Stephen Wilkerson. And he is…was my brother.”
“And he’s the one whose body we found in the river, right?” Grande says.
“Yes,” she says. “He was shot twice.”
“By Ryan Davis, right?” Jonathan says.
“Yes. That part was true. Laurie figured out what Stephen, or Frank, had been up to, and he tried to get rid of her, but Ryan came to her rescue. He shot my brother twice and then threw the body in the river.”