heavily on her, and then everything that happened today.” He paused, then said, “I didn’t tell you over the phone, and perhaps I shouldn’t tell you now. But Judith and Victoria had an argument the day before our daughter was killed. Judith hasn’t been able to get past the fact that the last word she said was unkind.”
“Victoria loved you both. You provided a warm and safe home and your children have all done well.”
“Hmm.” He led her to his home office, a comfortable room down the hall decorated in dark wood and a western theme. He walked to a bar built in the wall and said, “What would you like? I have a variety of Scotch, and I remembered you like wine—I have both red and white, good varieties, Judith tells me. I’m not much of a wine drinker.”
“Red, thank you.”
He prepared the drinks in silence, and Max let him relax. While the victim paid the ultimate price with their life, the survivors—the loved ones surrounding the victim—also suffered. And much of their pain was caused by guilt. Survivor’s guilt, guilt over what they did or didn’t do in the life of their loved one. Guilt that they couldn’t say good-bye. Violent death made all that worse, and Max had far more patience with those who grieved than she did with anyone else.
Grover would talk to her in his own time.
He brought her the wine and she sipped. “Judith is right. Rich, full-bodied, a hint of oak and cranberry. Very nice.”
He held up his double Scotch. “Salute,” he said, and took a deep drink. He sat next to her, put his glass on a coaster. “I called the detective in charge of the investigation and she wasn’t much help about what happened at the courthouse, but it’s clear they still believe that Stan is guilty. She didn’t come out and say it, but they’re not going to look further into Victoria’s murder. She wants to come out here and talk to me about the shooting. As if I’d killed him out of vengeance.”
Max had considered that. Not Grover specifically, but Simon. They both had the money to hire a hit man. The police would look at that angle.
He looked at her, searching for something. “Is Stan guilty?”
What did she say to that?
The truth. That’s all she could do, speak the truth. “I don’t know, Grover. I wish I could read minds or tell you that he said something definitive to me today. But based on our brief conversation before court, I still don’t know if Stan recanting is a legal game or if he was threatened into confessing in the first place. The one thing I’m certain about is that he knew more about Victoria’s murder—and the events leading up to it—than he shared with me.”
“I want the truth. There’s an ache in my heart that wants my daughter back, which is not possible, and an ache in my head that is from not knowing what really happened. Why she was killed. Judith says it doesn’t matter, that Victoria is still dead, but I look into her eyes and see her searching for answers she doesn’t think she’ll find. I don’t know how Judith is going to find peace unless she knows the truth. We treated Stan like a son. He was funny and kind and we trusted him. He was the first to defend Victoria when her brothers teased her too much, and he was the only one who supported her when she separated from Mitch. None of us really understood why.”
“What did she say about her divorce?”
“They’d grown apart. They seemed to work well together. She never complained when we had Mitch over for a meal. He doesn’t have family in the area, he was never as close to his parents as our kids are with us, and he still spends Thanksgiving with us, which is our big family holiday. They talked almost every day. Maybe they married for the wrong reasons. They were friends—maybe they loved each other, but not in the way married people should.” He shook his head. “I’ll never understand it, but she’s my daughter, and I always respected her decisions.” He sipped his Scotch, looked at Max. “Are you going back to New York now?”
“No,” she said. She’d thought about it on the drive over, but the case had grabbed her. She had a list of things she still needed to do, people she wanted to speak with. Mitch had made her