Tiffany stared at me with tears in her eyes. “No good comes from dragging skeletons out of closets.”
“It might, when that skeleton happens to be my biological father,” I said, holding her gaze.
She sat back in her chair, her face now pale enough that none of her bronzer powders could have helped her.
“Ms. Blakely remembers her parents fighting, but since she was just a slip of a girl, she only recalls bits and pieces. But she does remember that her parents were tryin’ to have a baby, without much success. They visited a fertility clinic and through that process discovered that Randall was actually sterile.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened in horror. “You weren’t . . . how . . . did . . .”
“Children are pretty intuitive,” Marco said. “You’d be surprised what they pick up on. Ms. Blakely discovered through her parents’ argument that her father was incapable of havin’ children, but it took her a few years and some maturity to fully acknowledge what that actually meant regardin’ her own parentage.” He paused a beat. “And why her father shunned her after the funeral.”
“What?” she asked in horror. “No. One of the reasons Mary Caroline decided to fight for her marriage was because he threatened to sue her for full custody and cut Caroline out of her life forever. Why would he do that if he didn’t want you?”
“Seriously?” I said before I could stop myself. “Randall Blakely is like a toddler who doesn’t want anyone else to have his toys, even if he doesn’t want them either.” I took a breath. “In case that analogy wasn’t clear enough, I was the toy.”
Her face was expressionless. “I didn’t know. He told me . . .”
“Did Randall ever hurt Mary Caroline?” Marco asked, as if she hadn’t said anything.
“What?” She jerked her gaze back to him. “No. Randall didn’t use fists. He used other things.”
“Such as intimidation?” Marco asked. “Seems like it was pretty effective when Mary Caroline was considerin’ a divorce.”
She didn’t respond.
“Was Mary Caroline afraid of her husband?”
She took a breath, then exhaled. “You mean did she think he would ever hurt her? No.”
“Did you think perhaps she underestimated him?”
Whatever leeriness I’d felt, still feel, in having come here, it shook me a little to see this strong, powerful woman on the verge of tears and struggling to speak. Maybe Aunt Tiffany was still in there somewhere. “I’ve always wondered,” she said, “if he had something to do with her parents’ accident, but I told myself it was paranoia. I didn’t really care for Randall much myself, and I agreed with her parents. She was still in love with another man, and Randall was too cold and calculating for her. If he loved her, it was because she was beautiful and agreeable. I think she felt guilty that she didn’t love him as much as he loved her. She definitely felt guilty for all her secret rendezvous. But when she became pregnant, she ended her affair and devoted herself to their marriage. She was thrilled to be expecting Caroline and found a deeper sense of happiness. And Randall became even more devoted to her. They were the it couple. ‘Relationship goals,’ as they say these days,” she said with a slight smile.
“He never suspected she was having an affair?” Marco asked.
“No, and trust me, she would have known if he did.” Tears filled her eyes again. “He probably would have killed her sooner.”
So she thought he’d killed her too.
“How long have you suspected Randall Blakely had his wife killed?” Marco asked.
Tears streaked down her face, and she swiped at her cheek. “Immediately after.”
“Did you alert anyone to your concern?”
“I hired a PI to look into it. I petitioned to have her car looked over for evidence of tampering, but he had it destroyed within a week after the funeral. I tried to be discreet about my inquiries, but Randall must have found out. I always wondered if that was why I was barred from seeing Caroline. So I circumvented him and went directly to her nanny. She told me herself that Caroline had no interest in talking to me.”
“What do you know about the accident?” Marco asked.
“Only that her car hydroplaned and crashed. She died from internal injuries.”
“Was there an official accident report?”
“Yes,” she said. “My PI got a copy.”
“Do you happen to still have it?” Marco asked. “I’d like to have a look.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Can’t you just request a copy yourself?”
“I could,” Marco said. “But I’m worried that Randall Blakely will be alerted that a deputy in Hensen County, Tennessee, is requesting information about his dead wife’s accident. And if he finds out . . .”
“It will lead him directly to me,” I said quietly.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Aunt Tiffany,” I said. “We both know he’s killed people he supposedly cares about before. And trust me, he doesn’t care for me at all. I’m now a loose end that he needs to dispose of. Up until now, I’ve managed to hide from him, but I can’t hide forever.” I paused. “Deputy Roland has offered to help me, but it’s not without risks.”
“What took you so long to reach out to me?” she asked, grabbing a tissue from a nearby box and dabbing her face.
“I wasn’t ready to fight my father on my own. But I think I might be strong enough now.”
Tiffany turned to Marco. “No offense, but what’s a sheriff deputy from a poor Appalachian county going to be able to do to help my goddaughter?”
Her lack of confidence in him was palpable.
That pissed me off. “Do you think Deputy Roland is the first law enforcement official I’ve talked to? Hardly, but he’s the first one to agree to help me.”
Tiffany narrowed her gaze on Marco. “And what makes you think you can deal with someone so much more powerful than you?”
“You mean you think Caroline needs an ally who’s not a good ole boy from Drum, Tennessee?” Marco asked, laying his twang on thick.
“No offense,” Tiffany said half-heartedly, raising her hand in surrender.
“Well, I’m offended,” I snapped.
“Carly,” Marco said softly. “You don’t need to defend me.”
“Carly?” she asked in surprise. “Your mother used to call you that. When did you start using that nickname?”
“After I ran.”
She nodded. “Your father hated it.” A soft smile lit up her eyes. “Good choice.”
“We’re takin’ this slow,” Marco said. “Baby steps. Gathering information. Carly’s not ready to make herself known, but she also realizes she can’t hide forever. If you could show us whatever your investigators found, it would be helpful.”
She nodded. “Of course. It’s all digital, so if you give me an email address, I’ll have it sent to you.”
“We’d very much appreciate that,” he said. “There’s one thing you haven’t told us, something Carly’s very much interested in, so I need to ask, who was the man Mary Caroline had an affair with?”