Fatal Connections

Chapter 76

Amy laughed with a cackle. "Are you kidding? Are you saying I arranged to murder my parents?"

"You wouldn't be the first kid to kill their parents."

"No!" She almost shouted the word. "You shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Look, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you didn't arrange anything," I said. "But don't be too sure that Marge Calhoun and Hannah Broomfield will back you up on that."

Amy's face paled. For a few seconds, I thought she might keel over.

"The Reverend and Benjamin Mulligan owned Embrace the Wild. Hannah cozied up to the Reverend and ended up over her head. And Calhoun and Douglas found out and kept it quiet. Since your parents came out clean, I'll assume you knew nothing about that, either," I said. "But someone with a serious grudge against your parents killed them. From what you're telling me, Aunt Phyllis is a most likely suspect. Next to you and Jaden, of course. Heirs are always suspects. So you know, one way or another, the cops will eventually get to you."

"But I didn't do anything," she stated, her voice flat.

"Your denials don't change the facts. Phyllis has made a career of . . . well, killing people. Calhoun and Douglas were desperate to avoid the scandal that would result from associating with Embrace the Wild through the church. Especially after your parents found out and tried to sever ties with them. One or more of them wanted your parents either warned off or eliminated. Your parents weren't dumb, and they knew the risks. That's why they wanted to hire a bodyguard."

And enter me, a burned-out, but recovering vet, trying to be a private eye. All for the sake of a background check.

"Were you aware of any of this?" I asked.

Amy shook her head. Her shoulders slumped.

"Why did Phyllis come back?" I asked.

Amy's lips compressed into an odd grimace. "She said she came back to make amends with Mom."

I considered that. Maybe, maybe not. Based on what I had seen, Phyllis didn't strike me as the type to forgive and forget. She was a person who was not only fully capable of killing, but she possibly had an axe to grind. Amy buried her face in her hands and let out a muted scream. Then, she looked up at me. "No one was supposed to die," she yelled.

Neither of us spoke. From somewhere within the house, I heard a clock tick. "What happened?" I asked.

Amy looked defeated. "We stayed in touch. Aunt Phyllis knew I wasn't happy about living with my parents. She was like my second mom. I could really talk to her. Honestly."

Amy began ticking off a small laundry list of everything right about Aunt Phyllis. For one thing, she could speak directly and without condescension to Amy about her troubles. Like Amy, Phyllis also hated the way her parents spread the gospel of their influencer brands around. She was honest, used cuss words without apologizing, and didn't mind if Amy did the same. She wasn't trying to change Amy. She went on and on. And I let her rant.

"It all makes sense now." Her voice became dreamy again. "After she left, I missed her a lot. But then she wrote to me."

She shivered, although the house was warm. "It wasn't until high school that I saw her again. She arranged to meet me. She had cut her hair and was shredded like a gym trainer, but it was her."

"I never asked what she did, but I knew it was . . . unusual. She was secretive. I accepted that. Now and then, we'd meet for coffee or whatever."

She gestured toward my phone. "Anyway, that photo?" Amy nodded toward it. "This was one of the few times I went anywhere near one of my parents' photo ops. That's when she told me she was trying to reconnect with my parents."