The Imposter Marin Montgomery (rom com books to read TXT) 📖

Sitting in stunned silence, I finally whisper, “You think Deborah lied about being attacked?”

“No. She was definitely ambushed that night. I saw it for myself,” the chief explains. “She lied about the night your father, or should I say Jonathan, died.”

“I don’t understand.” My lips quiver.

“The serial number on this gun isn’t recent. We were able to trace it back to Jonathan. He owned it. But there’s only one bullet casing missing.”

“Okay . . .” I’m not following the chief’s declaration. “Jonathan died of injuries he suffered when he fell out of the loft and broke his neck.”

“Correct. The coroner listed Jonathan’s death as an accidental fall. He was clearly intoxicated, and he died of a cervical fracture. In fact, three out of the seven vertebrae were severed. If he had survived the fall, he’d be paralyzed or a vegetable. His fall couldn’t have happened without severe force.”

“Yes.” I close my eyes at the gritty details.

“But there’s more.” The chief sighs. “When I went back through the case file, a shell casing was found in the wall of the barn, lodged in one of the pieces of wood. The one bullet discharged from the gun. And reading the report, it doesn’t look good . . .”

“What’re you saying?” I gawk at him.

“I was only an officer then, and though I was the first to arrive on the scene, I left to fill the other officers and emergency responders in on what happened. There was no bullet hole in Jonathan when I arrived. He was on his back in pain, your mother beside him.”

“How is that possible?”

“Because he was shot after we arrived. It looks like the bullet hole entered near his left kidney. This might not sound deadly, but when the intestines spilled into his abdominal area, it caused a deadly infection. By the time he got to the hospital, he was pronounced dead.”

“Wouldn’t the gun be loud enough to hear, even if you weren’t in the barn?”

“Yes. But there’s a lot of land, and the driveway is long. I had to go meet the incoming ambulance near the highway to direct them. That left ample time to discharge one bullet.”

“Could he have put himself out of his own misery?” Holden asks.

“His prints should be on his gun if that were the case.”

“How could this have gotten missed?” Holden is irate. “How did the doctors and police not catch this?”

“I don’t know. I was taken off the case immediately,” he murmurs. “As Sib knows, my wife, Cindy, was found dead the next morning from injuries she sustained after crashing into a tree. I was beside myself with grief and was off the force for a few months. I had to keep my sons from going off the deep end at the loss of their mother.” He sighs heavily. “Not to mention, Edward, Sibley’s real father, had died a few weeks before this. It was a rough time. And the awful rumors swirling about your mom and me.”

“I know.” I put my head in my hands. “I know.”

“I’m gonna be really blunt, Sibley.” He grimaces. “Because I owe it to you. Your father was a difficult man. Not well liked. A lot of people heard the rumblings about him beating your mother. Because of his fall, he wouldn’t have had any quality of life except eating through a feeding tube in a nursing home. In their minds, it was an open-and-shut case.”

“So what now?” I ask.

“I’m going to try and protect her . . .” He steeples his fingers as if unsure of what to say. “Dammit, we could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

“But she killed him in self-defense,” I say pointedly.

“I know, but I can’t entirely sweep this under the rug.”

“You’re going to charge my mother with murder when you know what she went through at the hands of Jonathan?” Incredulous, I practically jump out of my chair. “There’s gotta be another way.”

“Sibley, you’re an attorney. You understand the lay of the land. I can’t just unsee this. When I retire soon and this case is brought to light, which it will be, since I’m the one who went to the lab for prints, my entire career will be naught.”

I stare at him openmouthed. “She’s sick, Chief,” I whisper. “You can’t do this to her.”

He strokes the mole on his chin. “I don’t want to dredge up the past, believe me. I’m going to recommend she enter a psychiatric ward for evaluation.”

“Just talk to her doctor,” I say limply. “They can confirm she’s not in her right mind.”

“I know,” he says mournfully. “Believe me, I know.”

CHAPTER 53

Sibley

After the chief leaves, Holden and I sit while he gently holds my hand in his. We both look up at the thud of footsteps on the porch. He motions for me to stay seated, and after rising, he answers the door.

It’s the plainclothes detective who I remember was talking to the chief the other day. He has a salt-and-pepper mustache and a shiny bald head, and he gave the chief a run for his money, height wise.

“This can’t wait,” he says apologetically.

“Understandable.” Holden welcomes him in.

“You might notice Chief Fletcher is being arrested outside,” he says in far too casual a manner. Holden and I go to the kitchen window and gape as Robert Fletcher is handcuffed and led to the back of a waiting squad car by another police officer. The squad car door closes after his hunched figure.

“What happened?” I ask tensely. “What’s going on?”

“Mind if I take a load off?” The man’s stubby fingers point to the less cluttered living room. “By the way, I’m Brian Paulson, criminal investigator for the state.”

Holden leads me by the arm to the couch while Brian sits across from us in Deborah’s recliner. I face him with my puffy, tearstained eyes, waiting impatiently for him to speak. When he doesn’t, I break the tense silence.

“Where’s Miles?” I ask. “Is he in trouble too?”

He