The Other Woman: A psychological suspense thriller Read online

  “Nonsense.” Elise patted her leg. “With everything you have going on, I can't believe you're holding it together as well as you are.”

  Bridget grimaced. “Only on the outside. I have to keep going for the kids’ sake. I can't think about what’s happening too much or the tears start flowing.”

  She glanced across at the television in the corner of the room. The volume was turned down low, but it was tuned to the local news channel. She froze when all of a sudden Steve's face filled the screen. She couldn't hear what the newscaster was saying, but it was obvious they were reporting on his disappearance. The camera slowly panned to a shot of her house. The crowd outside had only swelled in the past hour or so. Bridget’s eyes widened when she realized the reporter was interviewing their next-door neighbor. “Turn that up, Henry,” she hissed, flapping a hand at the television.

  He reached for the remote on the coffee table in front of him and pointed it at the screen.

  “I'm here with Steve Hartman's next-door neighbor, Bart Rasmussen,” the reporter announced. “Bart, what's your reaction to the news this morning that Steve Hartman—allegedly wanted for the murder of Jen Carson, the mother of his son's best friend—has skipped bail?”

  Bart shook his head in a disbelieving manner. “It’s shocking in a neighborhood like ours. He always seemed like such a nice guy, hard worker too. Guess you never really know a person. Turns my stomach to think I was living next door to a killer.” He hesitated and looked straight at the camera. “And to think that boy of his was in on it with him. Piece of trash tossed that poor woman’s body into a dumpster.”

  24

  Elise twisted around in her chair, mouth agape. “Are they talking about … Henry?”

  “Mom … I wanted to—“ Bridget startled at a rustling sound behind her. She swung around and let out a gasp of dismay. Harper stood in the doorway, her piercing stare fixed on the television screen. Bridget leapt out of her chair and hurried over to her daughter, wrapping her up in her arms. “How long have you been standing there, honey?”

  Harper shrugged her tiny shoulders. Her eyes darted to Henry.

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fastening a pleading look on Bridget.

  Her breath came in short, sharp jabs which felt like someone was stabbing her chest. Her dad reached for her mom’s hand and then turned to Bridget expectantly. It seemed everyone was counting on her to say something, to come up with an answer to make things better, to make this go away. But how could she? Henry had made his choice, just like Steve had. And now she was stuck in the middle trying to reassure her seven-year-old on one end and dispel her aging parents’ fears on the other. The truth was, she couldn’t shield her parents any longer, and she couldn’t cushion her fourteen-year-old son from the consequences of his rash decision, but she still had to fight to protect her daughter’s innocence as best she could.

  “You can’t trust the news,” Bridget said briskly. “They make up outrageous stories to get people to tune in. You need to ignore everything people are saying, on the news and at school. Do you understand me, Harper?”

  Her daughter stared back at her with a look in her eyes Bridget hadn't seen before. She looked so much older than her seven years. As if she sensed her mother was lying to protect her, even if cognitively she couldn’t quite grasp why. Bridget blinked back tears. The age of innocence was over. No matter how hard she fought for her family, things would never be the same for any of them again.

  John motioned to Henry to hand him the remote control. ”How about we watch a movie together, Harps?” he suggested, as he pulled up the menu on the TV screen. “Here we go, we've got The Princess Diaries, Toy Story, oh and here's that Frozen movie you love.”

  Harper shook her head. “No thanks, Grandpa. I’m just going to play with my Barbies.”

  Bridget’s heart broke as she watched her daughter beat a retreat down the hallway to the guest room dragging her little backpack behind her. Harper was missing her Daddy desperately. In the interim, she had latched on to Henry, but now, all of a sudden, her faith in her brother had been shattered in a way that was incomprehensible to a seven-year-old.

  Bridget got to her feet. “I need to go and talk to her.”

  “Why don’t you let her be for a bit?” her mom soothed. “Give her some time and then she'll be more ready to talk.”

  Bridget glanced across at Henry. He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. “I’ll never forgive myself for doing this to her.”

  John furrowed his brow. “Doing … what to her?” His eyes jerked uneasily to Bridget. “Is it … true … what they’re saying?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a steadying breath. It was time to come clean and fill her parents in on everything that had happened.

  When she’d finished going over what she and Henry had already confessed to Detective Wright, John got up and shuffled over to his grandson. He put an arm around him and squeezed him tightly. “It doesn't do any good to keep beating yourself up, Henry. I understand why you did what you did. It wasn't the right decision, but you didn't do it out of a bad motive. You were only trying to protect your dad. Harper may be too young to grasp that, but one day she will.”

  “It was still the wrong thing to do, no matter his motive.” Bridget gave a despondent shake of her head. “He potentially messed up a crime scene, and the police don't look kindly on things like that.”

  Elise’s fingers fluttered nervously over her face. “But he's only a boy. It breaks my heart to think that poor Henry was only trying to keep his dad out of trouble. Surely they won't lock him up for that.”

  Bridget pulled a strand of hair back from her forehead. ”We don't know anything yet, Mom. He won't go to prison. Juvenile hall, maybe.”

  She startled when her phone began to ring. Glancing down at the screen, she saw an incoming call from Bryan, their lawyer. “I need to take this,” she said, getting to her feet and exiting the room. She hurried to the kitchen and sank down in a chair at the table.

  “I have good news and bad news,” Bryan began without preamble.

  “Please tell me they're not going to prosecute Henry,” Bridget muttered. “That’s all I care about right now.”

  “The good news is they're not going to prosecute you,” Bryan replied. “The county prosecutor doesn't feel it would benefit anyone given the mitigating circumstances and given the fact that you volunteered the information.”

  “And Henry?”

  There was a weighted pause on the other end of the line and then Bryan cleared his throat. “There's no real way for them to let it slide. The public’s hungry for blood, especially now that Steve's disappeared. In his absence, Henry's become the sacrificial lamb, so to speak. The prosecutor is dead set on taking this all the way. He’d like to try Henry as an adult, if he can.”

  “Can he do that?” Bridget whispered.

  “He can try to do anything he wants. Naturally, I'll do my very best to circumvent any such attempt and ask to have the petition filed with the juvenile court instead. Henry has no prior record and his motive was only to protect his father, not to cover up his own crime, so that will stand in his favor. There’ll be a preliminary hearing tomorrow, at which time the judge will determine whether or not to transfer the case to adult court.”

  “So now what?”

  “Henry will have to turn himself in. The police will charge him and release him.” Bryan explained. “If he doesn't turn himself in voluntarily, he'll be arrested, and I'm sure you'd rather not have to deal with all the news crews, and the bedlam of an arrest.”

  Bridget shut her eyes and groaned inwardly. Just when she’d thought things couldn't get any worse. In the space of a couple of days, she’d gone from a law-abiding citizen to the wife of a fugitive and the mother of a criminal. “All right. I’ll bring him down to the station now.”

  “Great, I’ll meet you there,” Bryan responded and hung up.

  Bridget sank her head down on the table, the strength seeping
from her limbs. She wasn't sure she could keep going. For one crazy moment she contemplated ushering her kids into the car and simply driving away. But it wouldn’t fix anything. She was no more equipped to go on the run than Steve was. She didn't know the first thing about hiding from the police. The only way out of this was to move forward. She had to make sure Henry complied with the arrest warrant and then she’d work her way through the process. She needed to have a little faith that the judge would look favorably on their situation and allow Henry to be tried in juvenile court where he belonged.

  Wearily, she rose from the table and trod back into the family room, her feet like leaden blocks beneath her.

  Her mom blinked quizzically at her. “Everything all right, dear?”

  “No, that was our lawyer. The prosecutor wants to file charges against Henry.”

  Henry’s brows twitched up in alarm. “Am I going to prison?”

  “No, of course not,” Bridget replied hastily. “But we need to go down to the station and fill out some paperwork. It's only a formality. They'll give us a hearing date and you’ll have to go before a judge.”

  “Oh, the poor child,” her mom exclaimed. “You do have a good lawyer, don't you Bridget, dear?”

  “We’ll find out,” she said through gritted teeth. “If it's all right with you, I'll leave Harper here. She's traumatized enough as it is without me dragging her down to the police station.”

  “Of course,” her mom soothed. “Don’t worry about her.”

  Bridget nodded her thanks. “I’ll let her know I need to run an errand with Henry.” She exited the room and returned a few minutes later. “She's fast asleep on the bed, poor thing. Probably best to leave her be. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Do you need anything from the store while we’re out?”

  Her dad scratched his head. “Why don't you pick up a gallon of milk and some cereal for the kids in the morning?”

  When they arrived at the station, Bryan was waiting for them in the reception area. “I’ve reviewed the paperwork. Everything’s in order. You’ll both need to sign it.” He handed it to Bridget first and threw Henry a sympathetic smile. “Don't worry, they’re not going to keep you in custody. You're not considered a threat to yourself or others.”

  Bridget looked up as Detective Wright approached them. “I’m sorry it came to this,” he said, grimacing. “I tried to advocate for him in my report, but ultimately, it's not my decision.”

  “Thanks for trying,” Bridget replied. “I appreciate everything you've done to help us.”

  Detective Wright nodded. “I should tell you that we have a new lead on Steve. A dog walker in your neighborhood reported seeing a silver Audi parked at the curb near your house on Friday morning. He didn't get a number or anything, but he stopped to admire it as it was one of those new luxury sedans. We're trying to follow up on it right now.”

  Bridget furrowed her brow. “So someone did come to the house. Do you think they picked Steve up?”

  “That's our best guess at this point. We’d very much like to speak to that individual, as you can imagine.”

  “I don't think any of Dad's friends have a new Audi,” Henry chimed in. “I’d have noticed something like that.”

  “Yeah, it's pretty much been a dead-end so far on that front,” Detective Wright replied. “But we're still going through our databases. I'll keep you posted on any developments.” He nodded goodbye to Bryan and then strode off toward his office.

  “You're free to go for now,” Bryan said, slipping a copy of the paperwork they’d signed into his briefcase. “I’ll see you both at the hearing tomorrow. You have my number if you have any questions in the meantime.”

  Bridget and Henry exited the police station and walked back to the car together. “So far so good,” Bridget said, unlocking it and climbing in. “At least they didn't detain you until the hearing. I'm not sure I could have handled losing you too.” She placed both hands on the steering wheel and looked across at Henry. “I’m proud of you, son. You've stepped up to the plate these past couple of days. Helping out with Harper and all.”

  “I don't know what you're so proud of,” Henry groaned. “I’ve messed up everything.”

  “You're not a coward, Henry. You’re facing up to what did. I’m proud of you for that reason for starters.” Bridget grimaced as she turned the key in the ignition. Unlike your father.

  On their way back, they swung by the grocery store and picked up a few breakfast items. Once they reached her parents’ house, Henry carried the groceries inside to the kitchen and began putting them away. Bridget left him to it and joined her parents in the family room.

  “How did everything go?” her dad asked, wringing his hands.

  “So far so good. The hearing’s tomorrow. The judge will decide whether it goes to adult court or stays in juvenile court.” Bridget chewed on the inside of her cheek. “To be honest, I’m not optimistic. This is turning out to be a high-profile case thanks to Steve's reckless decision to run.”

  “I’m happy to give a character reference if it helps with the court hearing,” her dad said, smoothing a hand over his thinning hair.

  Bridget gave him a rueful smile. “Thanks, Dad. I'll ask Bryan about it next time he calls.” She got to her feet. “Is Harper still asleep.”

  Her dad nodded. “I checked on her a little while ago.”

  “I’m going to put the kettle on,” Bridget said. “Does anyone want a cup of tea?”

  “Yes, please,” her mom answered. “A cup of tea sounds good.”

  Bridget stepped into the kitchen to put the kettle on to boil. Henry was seated at the table, watching YouTube videos on his phone.

  “Thanks for putting the groceries away,” she said, squeezing his shoulder, before making her way down to the guest bedroom to check on Harper. She opened the door quietly and stuck her head in. She took in the scene with a vague sense of unease. The bed was rumpled but Harper was gone.

  25

  Bridget stepped inside the bedroom, searched around, and then made her way over to the adjoining bathroom. “Harper, are you in there, honey?” She turned the handle and walked into another empty room. A dull gong began to sound somewhere in the pit of her stomach, but she quickly quelled it. The events of the past few days had frayed her nerves to the point where she was jumping to the worst possible conclusions before she’d exhausted any more reasonable explanations. She hurried back up to the family room where her parents had just tuned into an episode of Jeopardy.

  “Dad! Harper’s not in the guest bedroom,” she blurted out. “I don’t see her backpack either. Are you sure she was there when you checked earlier?”

  John got to his feet, a concerned look darting across his face. “Absolutely, I put a blanket over her. She must have just woken up in the last thirty minutes or so. She was out cold when I looked in on her.”

  “Did you check under the bed?” Elise suggested. “She was upset earlier at that news report. You know how little kids like to find a hiding spot to curl up in when they're upset.”

  Bridget shook her head. “She’s not there.”

  “I’ll help you look for her,” John said, leading the way back down the hallway. “She might have fallen asleep someplace else.”

  Together, they combed through the bedrooms and bathrooms, peeking into closets and searching under all the beds.

  “I just don’t understand it,” John said, scratching his head. “She wouldn’t have gone outside without telling us. She must be somewhere in the house.” They made their way back down to the kitchen where Henry was still engrossed in his phone. “Have you seen Harper?” Bridget asked.

  Henry looked up sharply, catching the urgency in her tone. “No, why?”

  “She’s not in the guest room, or any of the other bedrooms.”

  Henry stood abruptly, the chair screeching on the hardwood floor beneath him. “I bet she hid when she heard us come back. She’s mad at me.”

  With Henry’s help, they searched through the
laundry room, the mudroom, and the garage, but there was no trace of Harper anywhere.

  Bridget’s blood ran cold as several terrifying possibilities came to mind. She tried not to dwell on them, ignoring the increasingly painful, staccato beat of her pulse in her temples. She had to consider the possibility that Harper had wandered outside without telling her grandparents. She ran a hand distractedly through her hair, her stomach knotting at the thought. Bryan had indicated that the public was crying out for blood now that Steve had disappeared. What if someone had snatched her daughter? Would people go so far as to harm her children because of what her husband had done?

  “Henry! Dad!” Bridget called out, as she headed to the front door. “I’m going to walk up and down the street in case Harper wandered outside. Can you start knocking on doors and asking the neighbors if they've seen her?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Bridget dashed outside and scanned the road, desperately searching for a familiar tiny figure with a silver-and-teal backpack. She jogged down the front steps and set off down the road at a brisk pace, her hands stuffed into her pockets for warmth. She kept telling herself that Harper had to be close by. She might have woken up and been upset when she realized that Bridget and Henry had left her alone with her grandparents again. She hadn’t been acting like herself lately. Her sweet spirit had been hit hard by everything that had happened in the past couple of days. She was confused by the shocking allegations against her brother and traumatized by the mean taunts of the kids at school.

  In a haze of dread, Bridget peered behind every hedge, circled around parked cars, and asked everyone she bumped into if they'd seen a little girl with a backpack. Every so often, she called out Harper’s name, blinking back blinding tears when her voice echoed into silence. Harper didn't even know how to cross a neighborhood street safely by herself. How on earth was she going to navigate junctions with traffic lights? And where was she headed to—if she even knew herself? Bridget swallowed back her trepidation. She had to stay calm for her daughter’s sake, and for Henry’s sake. She could tell he blamed himself now that Harper was missing. After all, it was the news report about him tossing Jen Carson’s body in the dumpster that had upset his sister.