I need closure.

   And I’m not going to be able to let go until I get it.

* * *

   The words “I need to speak to you” have me looking up into the eyes of none other than Jean.

   “You have some fucking nerve showing up here,” I say, glancing around. Cam is in the garage, so if I call out to her she’ll get here quickly.

   Jean holds her hands up. “It’s your safe space, so I thought you’d feel less threatened. I just want to have a chat and explain some things to you, and then I’ll leave.”

   I eye her. I want to know what she has to say, but at the same time I know she doesn’t deserve the time of day.

   Curiosity wins out. “What do you want to talk about?”

   “I loved your father,” she admits, ducking her face. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but I did.”

   I don’t think she knows what love is. I don’t want her to stop talking, though, so I cut off any harsh remarks and decide to press her further.

   “How did you both meet?” I ask, hoping to finally get some answers.

   “He came into my dance studio. He had a bucket list of things he wanted to try that he was going through, and a dance lesson was one of them,” she explains.

   I remember his bucket list. He was slowly ticking off a list of things he had never done, trying to experience more to life than just the daily grind. I remember him telling me some of the things he wanted to try.

   Indoor skydiving.

   To drive a racecar.

   To run a marathon.

   A cooking class.

   I remember thinking it was cute, and that he was trying to live his best life.

   “And then what?” I press.

   “And then we became friends, and then it turned to more. We went on dates.” She trails off, staring out the window. “He told me he had a daughter, one he loved very much and was proud of.”

   She looks at me. “I didn’t hurt your father, and I want you to know that. I wouldn’t do anything to him. He meant the world to me.”

   I can’t contain my tongue any further.

   “You poisoned him,” I point out. “How is that not hurting him?”

   “I didn’t poison him,” she vehemently denies.

   “How do you know Jasper?” I ask, not believing a single word she said. I heard the conversation. Yes, she said it was Jasper that killed him, but she had involvement in it, too, and she can’t pretend that she didn’t.

   I don’t know how much she thinks I know, but I need to use this opportunity to get some answers.

   “Jasper was my first husband,” she admits, wrapping her arms around herself. “We’ve been divorced for several years now, and once I was out with Freddy and he saw us. And he recognized Freddy. He knew who he was, and he wanted something. And when Jasper wants something, he won’t stop until he gets it. He said...” She pauses, a tear escaping her eyes. “He said if I didn’t do as he wanted, he would hurt Anne, and I couldn’t let them happen.”

   “Who is Anne?”

   “Our daughter,” she says, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “My daughter. Jasper isn’t her father, but he met me when she was a baby, so he raised her.”

   I can’t believe he’d threaten his own child, biological or not. If I ever adopted a child, I’d love that child just the same, and I’d never do anything to harm them. “If that doesn’t show what kind of man he is...”

   “I know,” she huffs. “And I know he would do it. I know who he is. He’s a violent man, that’s why I finally left and divorced him after years of domestic abuse.”

   “So he told you to help him kill my dad or he was going to hurt your daughter?” I ask, brow furrowing in confusion.

   “Yes,” she says, eyes pleading. “But I didn’t do anything to your dad. I wouldn’t. I loved him. I found out after that Jasper broke into his house and suffocated him while he was sleeping. He put the pills next to his bed so it looked like he overdosed. I’m so sorry, Bronte. I now have to play along with Jasper because he’s still threatening my daughter. I don’t know what to do. He thinks I’m allied with him when really I hate him and want him out of my life. I’m in the process of moving Anne to a different college in another state, somewhere he can’t find her.”

   I don’t know if I should believe her or not. She could easily be saving her own ass here, and hoping that we only target Jasper now, not her.

   I’m not sure what to think. I heard her conversations with Jasper, but if she’s playing him, then she would have said whatever she needed to keep him happy.

   My dad was suffocated while he slept.

   The thought horrifies me.

   What a coward of a man Jasper is. I never thought I could hate someone as much as I do him.

   “I’m so sorry about your dad, Bronte. He used to talk about you so much, and he cared so much what you thought of him. He wanted to be the best dad in the world, and he wanted to give you everything. It’s my fault he’s gone. If Jasper didn’t see him with me and thought he had an in with me... If he hadn’t stolen the key from me, the one your dad gave me for his house...” She starts to cry.

   So that’s how he got inside the house.

   “How do I know all of this is the truth, and it’s not just you freaking out and trying to get away with the fact that people who love my dad are now going to want revenge?” I say very plainly.

   “I was freaking out,” she admits. “But mostly because I didn’t want you to think that I did this. I loved Freddy. And I might not be the perfect woman, or person, but I’m not capable of killing someone, especially someone I love. I couldn’t live with myself if you thought that. I have no criminal record whatsoever—if you look into me the only thing you will find is me being brought in beaten and filing a criminal charge against Jasper.”

   “What happened to Billie?” I ask.

   She looks down, swallowing hard. “Jasper shot her. He thought she was you and took the chance. I wasn’t there, but Jasper called me when I was at the studio and told me that maybe I was right, that people are looking into him and know what happened. He’s paranoid now, which makes him even more dangerous.”

   At the studio, so it was a conversation we missed. I don’t know whether or not she knows about us bugging her car and home, but she seems oblivious. That, or she’s just a really damn good liar, which is a huge possibility.

   I try to read her, but she gives nothing away, and I have no idea what to believe.