Apples Never Fall

Stan Delaney felt his colossal rage and humiliation, his pain and hurt, balloon within his chest and explode behind his eyes. But he was not his father. Just like his father had not been his father that day, the day his body finally reacted to the daily onslaught of cruelty.

That one action had defined the rest of his father’s life and the rest of Stan’s life.

He might be as stupid as his father, as thick as a brick, but he would never make his father’s mistake. He would never hurt a woman, not any woman, but especially not this woman, not the fair-haired tiny girl with the springy walk who had materialized like a miracle at that party all those years ago and smiled up at him with gleaming, combative eyes. He’d known, before that song finished its last silly synthetic beat, that she was the only girl for him.

More than fifty years later, he dropped his violently trembling hands. He turned away.

He didn’t slam the door. He closed it with a gentle click behind him.

Chapter 64

NOW

“Your family has been very worried about you, Mrs. Delaney.”

Christina managed to keep her voice steady as she thought of the time and resources she’d spent trying to prove this woman’s murder. She thought of her boss’s face.

Accept nothing. Believe nothing. Check everything.

She hadn’t followed her own rules. They should have turned around once they got the information from the plastic surgeon about Savannah speaking to Joy on the same day she disappeared.

“But I don’t understand,” said Joy Delaney. She stood next to her husband, holding his hand in hers, patting it distractedly. She looked well rested and tanned. “Why would you call the police, Stan? You knew exactly where I was, I left you a note.”

“I never got a note,” said Stan shakily. He was a plant returning to life in front of Chr

istina’s eyes: back straightening, shoulders dropping. “There was no note, Joy.” He exhaled hard. “At first I thought you were just making a point, but this last week, you know, I really started to think something terrible had happened to you.”

“There was so a note!” insisted Joy. “I put it on the fridge door so you couldn’t possibly miss it.”

“There was no note on the fridge,” said Stan. “Where have you been?”

“But I left it right there! It was a very nice note! I put a lot of thought into it.”

Stan said, “Did you use the London Eye fridge magnet, Joy?”

“Oh,” said Joy. She grimaced. “That was stupid. Oh dear.”

“This fridge magnet is top-heavy,” said Stan to Christina. He was almost chummy with her now. “Bad design. It keeps falling off the fridge.”

“It’s a pity because it’s a lovely magnet,” said Joy. “It has a picture of us on the London Eye.”

“You didn’t see the note on the floor?” said Christina to Stan, still treating him as a man with something to hide.

“I did not,” said Stan.

“But surely you called the children, Stan! I texted them!” said Joy.

“The text made no sense, Joy,” said Stan. “It was gibberish.”

Joy looked at Christina and Ethan. “Has he even offered you a cup of tea?”

“We didn’t expect a cup of tea,” said Christina. “We were in the process of arresting him.”

The dog pattered into the room and happily licked Joy’s shoes. Christina shuffled out of its way. She’d met Steffi a few times now, and the animal seemed harmless and cute enough, but she wasn’t a pet person, and she had the strangest feeling that this one actively disliked her.

Joy fondled the dog’s ears. “Hello, Steffi, did you miss me?”

Stan said, “You know, I’ve got a good idea what happened to that note.”