I clench my fingers around the steering wheel. I can’t imagine what she went through, how she felt. “I know.”
Both of us cease speaking and I know, like me, she is thinking about Charlotte. Our kind, sweet Charlotte. She is the person who mediates conflict if one of us falls out. She is also the person who has unintentionally caused arguments. Every time one of us pushed her treats on another, we fought about it. And she’s the type of person who thought we were fighting over which one of us got to eat it.
She hums tunes when things get tense. Heck, she feeds stray animals and some of them aren’t even friendly, yet she’ll smile and coo at them like they are a cute kitten.
Even with all her kindness, she holds a fieriness inside her, one that only comes out when she is pushed.
That’s our Charlotte.
Knowing a monster had her in his grip has us all feeling guilty. We should have done more, should have seen it coming. The males in our life might be overprotective, and we had warned them off, telling them they had been ridiculous. Yes, they went over the top with it at times. What they did to Jaxon, and in turn Lily, had been horrific and none of us wanted to go through that each time we found a partner. But had we been too hard on them? Had they been right to worry? Seeing what Charlotte has gone through… I’m not sure I want to take a chance. The only reason I’m conflicted is because of how happy she is at the moment. She has always been happy but for those months with Scott, she wasn’t herself. She lost weight and questioned everything, even the clothing she wore. Drew brought her out of her shell once again and the bounce in her step, the twinkle in her eyes, it’s stronger and brighter than it ever has been.
The silence of the car is broken by the ringing of Hayden’s phone. At a quick glance, she’s confused as to who is on the phone. “This is a call extension from work. Why would they be trying to put a caller through to me when I’m not due in today?” she explains before answering, putting the phone on loudspeaker. “Hi, Chrissy. Everything okay?”
“We have someone on the other line wanting to speak to you. She said it’s important and about the library.”
I pull over into a vacant space on a side street and stare at the phone.
“How does she know I’m a relative or that I work at the station?”
“She saw your picture in the paper and they mentioned the radio station.”
“Put her through,” Hayden orders gently.
We both share a look as the voice on the other line comes through. “Hello?”
“This is Hayden. Can I ask who I am speaking with?”
“My name is Milly. I’m calling about the library you spoke about in the paper. About the dead body they found.”
“What do you know of it?” she asks, her voice gentle.
A forced laugh echoes down the phone. “I know enough to know that what happened to that girl isn’t speculation, that she isn’t the reason for his death.”
“Do you know who is?”
“His wife.”
My brows pinch together and Hayden and I share another look. As far as we have been informed, his wife didn’t even know about his affairs or that he wasn’t at work. According to the officer Charlotte spoke to, his wife is grieving and wants privacy.
“His wife doesn’t—”
“She’s unstable. Do not believe a word she says. If he’s dead, he pushed that crazy bitch too far.”
Hayden lowers her voice, her hands trembling around the phone. “How do you know all of this?”
“Because the two are a match made in heaven. He hurt my sister. Jade was nineteen, had her whole life ahead of her, and he destroyed her.”
“Had?”
“She killed herself. She couldn’t cope with what he had done, what his wife had done.”
“What happened?” Hayden asks, as I struggle to stop myself from firing questions at her.
“Jade met Scott Parish whilst studying at school. He was five years older. They hit it off and as months passed, she seemed more and more withdrawn. I went up one day to visit and I found her; her sheets bloody, her body covered in bruises and cuts. I stayed with her until she recovered. She wouldn’t go to the police or seek medical attention. He had her so brainwashed that she blamed herself. Her friends told me they saw it coming but nothing they said to her registered. She would ignore their opinion and advice and they had to watch as he belittled and made her the shell of the person she once was.”
“I’m sorry,” Hayden whispers. “So sorry he put her through that.”
“It’s not him who did the worst. It was the wife, Sophia. She showed up during Jade’s class, screaming at her for being a homewrecker. He had been trying to contact Jade for weeks but I kept her from the phone, deleted the messages, and the calls. And his wife must have seen them. I don’t know. The school asked her to leave for the day. She was embarrassed, upset since that was the first time she had found out about the wife.
“Her depression got worse after that. She was being bullied by people spreading the rumours going around from that incident in class. Sophia didn’t give up terrorising her. She called once to tell me someone put tomato sauce in her bed, and left threatening notes. Men would try to rape her then claim it’s the service she charged for. She’d leave class, and Sophia would be there, watching, taunting. It didn’t matter that Jade had told her she hadn’t spoken to or seen him since that night they slept together, this woman didn’t believe her.
“I went back up one week, hearing the anguish and depression in her voice. She was so skinny and frail. I’ll never forget that image. I wanted to talk her into coming back home with me. His wife turned up at the house that first night, banging down the door screaming, and I answered. I threatened her; I told her that if she ever came back, I’d go to the police. I went home a week later; my job wouldn’t let have any more paid time off. I shouldn’t have left.”
“What happened after you left?”
“Sophia beat the ever-loving crap out of her. Her friends called me and said they were going to take her to the hospital so I got in the car and headed down. I got a call halfway saying my sister had slit her wrists.”
My hands shake, tears streaming down my cheeks as I listen. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” she chokes out. “I know that isn’t the worst she had done to her. I knew she was keeping things from me and from her friends. But the two of them destroyed her. He deserves to be dead, but she deserves to rot.”
“We’ve not even been allowed to know who she is. Someone was sending my cousin, Charlotte, flowers the night he hurt her. They’ve continued to send them since, all with threatening poems. But the police seem to believe her story. We don’t even know where she lives or who she is.”
“I have a picture.”
Hayden gulps, and her fingers tighten around the phone. “You have a picture?”
“I can send it to you. I gave it to the police years ago but the image is a little blurry and they never found her. I only knew her first name but when I saw his image in the paper, I knew it was the same couple. I had only met him once and it was over a phone call, but I’ll never forget it.”