Page 60 of Thicker Than Water
I shake my head as I type my response. There’s a giant hole in Sienna’s hypothesis, and it’s almost disturbing, how thoroughly she’s able to ignore it.
How would Henry have planted traces of blood onto Jason’s knife?
For almost a minute, there’s no reply, not even an ellipsis that would signal Sienna’s typing. When the ellipsis does appear, it flickers like a dying lightbulb. I picture her writing a word, then deleting it, writing and deleting again, face pinched with a scowl.
Like I said, there’s more to figure out, she finally answers.For all we know, it wasn’t even Jason’s knife they found in his car. Henry could have planted his own. We haven’t actually SEEN the knife. We just assumed it was Jason’s because he usually carries one!
I rub my forehead. I get why she’s latching onto this idea; Gavin imploded Henry’s life when he turned him in, the incident at the restaurant did happen weirdly close to the night of Gavin’s murder, and it’s unnerving that Jason was there to witness the scene. As unnerving, in fact, as him never talking about it. Still, there’s so much Sienna doesn’t know.
In a rush, I type out what I’ve learned today. I explain the holiday party, Jason’s ensuing obsession, his fears about what Gavin might have done to a drunk, unconscious Maeve. After I send the message, there’s another long measure of silence. No typing. No response. I read the text again, trying to see it through Sienna’s eyes. Maybe something in the story is resonating with her, too. Maybe her skin is prickling, just like mine, as she recognizes, and then rethinks, that need in Jason to always—
You talked to MAEVE?
I stare at Sienna’s question—such a strange thing to focus on in light of what I’ve shared.
She stopped by to apologize,I write.And to give me a schedule for repaying the money. And I asked her if she knew any reason why Jason would want to hurt Gavin.
I study the message, anticipating how Sienna will respond. To be safe, I delete the last sentence. Even though it’s the truth, it will only hurt her to learn I asked such a pointed question about her brother. And more than hurt her—it’ll anger her, trigger her instinct to defend him against any implication of guilt.
I don’t think I could handle that today, on top of everything else. Sienna’s rage runs as hot as a furnace, and I’ve been lucky, for all these years, to never have been directly scorched. She’s been annoyed with me, frustrated with me, but never furious. I’ve always been the hand that cools her fire—and does not fuel it.
I revise the end of the message before sending:I asked her about Jason and Gavin’s relationship.
You asked Maeve?Sienna fires back.The woman who slept with your husband?
Yes. Thanks for the reminder.
Sorry, she amends.I just mean—of all the people to talk to about this!
But what do you think?I ask.About whatshe said.
I think Gavin’s an asshole!Sienna writes.And I really fucking hope he didn’t do anything to her, even if she IS Enemy Number One right now. But I don’t see how it’s relevant to Gavin’s murder. Unless you’re saying Maeve killed him? As revenge or something?
My mouth pops open. It’s almost acrobatic, the way Sienna contorts all blame away from her brother. Before I can type out aresponse, my phone rings in my hand—Sienna, impatient as always, pressing for an answer I’m suddenly too exhausted to give.
“Is that what you think?” she asks when I pick up. “Because I see where you’re coming from. The cops think Jason had time to murder Gavin because his house is only twelve minutes from Maeve’s, but that just meansMaevecould have gotten there too. And—ooh! Maybe she planted the evidence in Jason’s car because she got pissed at him for saying that sleeping with her was a big mistake. And”—she gasps—“Oh my god. Maybe she evencaused Jason’s accidentso the cops would find the evidence!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I pump the brakes on her runaway theory. “No, Sienna, stop. First of all, they said no one else was involved in Jason’s crash.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t drive distracted. It’s never made sense to me that he’d just—shoot off the road all of a sudden. Who does that?”
Plenty of people. But even this—the idea that Jason could be so human as to take his eyes off his windshield, to flick them toward his phone, same as any of us have done a hundred times—is something Sienna isn’t willing to entertain.
“Second of all,” I add, the words coming out on a sigh, “that wasn’t what I was saying. Maeve isn’t even the one who thinks Gavin hurt her. It’sJasonwho thinks that. Jason who wanted to do something about it.”
Sienna’s silence is thick, like a cloth pressed against my ear. I hear nothing on her end, not the click of computer keys, not the chirp of birds outside. It strikes me suddenly: I have no idea where she is. Normally, it’s like there’s a compass inside me, pointed toward Sienna’s location. But now, as I strain for any scrap of sound, she’s so quiet it’s as if she’s disappeared.
“Sienna?”
“So you’re saying this is motive,” she says, “for Jason killing Gavin.”
My stomach clenches at her shift in tone. To anyone else, Sienna would sound icy. But I know her voice better than my own, and right now, it’s the opposite of cold. Within her words is a barely contained heat.
“No—I don’t know. I’m just… really confused,” I hedge. “I don’t understand why he’d go directly to Gavin’s house, two seconds after… sleeping with Maeve, especially since the holiday party was months ago and Maeve’s convinced that Gavin didn’t—”
“Exactly,” Sienna cuts me off. “So it doesn’t make sense. But Henry Hendrix—hismotive makes sense.”
I wish it were that easy. That one afternoon had given us all the answers. That despite everything that points toward Jason, Gavin’s murder has nothing to do with anyone we know.
