No One But You. Brenda Novak
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slung Jayden’s bag over her shoulder and led him outside to find that Sly had gotten back into his patrol car. Jayden saw the car, too, had to know it was his father, and yet he didn’t run over to greet him.
Sly rolled down the passenger window. “Want to come ride with me, bud?” he yelled.
Jayden looked up at her for some cue as to what he should do. Sadie could tell he was reluctant to leave her, since they’d been apart all day.
“It won’t be for long,” she whispered to him. “We only live a few houses down.”
“Okay.” He spoke so softly that Sly couldn’t have heard him, but he let go of her hand and walked over.
“Is it really necessary to offer to drive him home when I live half a block away?” she muttered so that only Sly could hear as she unbuckled Jayden’s safety seat.
“It’s going to be more than half a block,” he announced, full-voiced. “We’re going for ice cream!”
Fun. Ice cream should make up for the fact that you haven’t stepped up as a parent since the day he was born, she thought but said nothing.
Sly’s hand covered hers as he took the car seat. “Care to join us?”
Sadie resisted the urge to recoil.
“Come, Mommy!” Jayden cried, but Sadie didn’t have it in her. She couldn’t sit around making small talk with Sly when she was so upset with him. He’d just shown up at her work, might’ve cost her her job, and now he wanted to take her and Jayden out for ice cream as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. That was the kind of stuff he did all the time—crossed certain boundaries and then pretended he hadn’t.
“I’m sorry, honey.” She slid her hand out from under Sly’s. “Mommy’s too exhausted. I worked really hard today.”
Fortunately, Jayden didn’t complain. The prospect of a treat had won him over.
“I’ll wait for you at home,” she added.
“Don’t sit around and stew,” Sly said to her retreating back. “You have no reason to be mad! I was only trying to look out for you.”
She pivoted and nearly gave him a piece of her mind right there on Petra’s front lawn. The desire to let loose was so strong she almost couldn’t rein herself in. But she knew from experience that causing a scene would only make the problem worse, and she had Jayden—and Petra and Petra’s family—to think about. “I’ll see you when you get back,” she said in a firm voice, to let him know she wasn’t willing to discuss it, and waved to Jayden as they drove off.
It wasn’t until she got home and was taking her phone out of her purse to charge it that she finally saw Dawson’s text.
Be here at one tomorrow, if possible. And this time, could you bring a six-pack of beer? That wine you bought was terrible.
She couldn’t help laughing at the wine statement. She’d never tried that brand before. It had been in the right price range, but it had been terrible.
You are a glutton for punishment, she wrote back.
When she didn’t get a response, she guessed he was already asleep.
* * *
By the time Sadie bathed Jayden, she was too exhausted to read to him. Promising she’d make it up to him tomorrow, she slid him over so she could climb into bed, kissed his forehead and turned out the light. But long after he went to sleep she couldn’t drop off herself, couldn’t get her mind to shut down. One question after another bombarded her. Why had Dawson Reed agreed to keep her on? Why would he risk his own well-being? He’d been through so much, and yet he was the one willing to take her side over Sly’s—when so many others had decided to protect their own interests.
She understood he was in a hurry to get a caregiver so his sister could come home, and that there wouldn’t be a lot of people in Silver Springs who’d trust him enough to take the job, but there were other places he could draw from. His sister had been in that institution for over a year. Why not take one or two more weeks to expand the search so that he wouldn’t have to deal with Sly?
Was it because he was a nice guy, as she thought? Or something else?
When Sly brought Jayden home, she’d told him she believed Dawson could never have hurt his parents, and he, in turn, had tried to convince her that Dawson was merely “grooming her,” setting her up to trust him and believe in him so that he’d be able to manipulate her. Sly said narcissists and psychopaths were experts at creating positive experiences designed to make their victims feel connected to them. Before he left, he even tried to persuade her to visit the police station in the next day or two so that he and the homicide detective who’d investigated the case could go over the details with her.
She wasn’t sure that would convince her of anything, though. If the facts of the investigation clearly indicated Dawson was guilty, why hadn’t he been convicted? There had to be some question, didn’t there?
Finally giving up on sleep, she slipped out of bed and went to the living room, where she’d left her laptop. She’d paid a fair amount of attention to the Reed murders, had listened to and read the various media reports as they came out. Like most everyone else in Silver Springs, she couldn’t believe something so terrible could happen in their little town.
But after going to work for Dawson, she had the desire to look at what’d transpired from a more objective vantage point—and not while she had several police officers at her elbow, trying to sway her opinion. She also hoped to see if she could determine whether the media, in their quest for shocking headlines, had helped create a bias that shouldn’t have existed, as Dawson’s defense lawyers claimed.
Putting her computer in her lap, she propped a couch pillow behind her back and logged onto the internet.
A search for “Dawson Reed” called up several links. She clicked one after the other and read, with fresh eyes, what she’d given only a cursory glance before.
Silver Springs Man Denies Killing Couple Who Adopted Him featured several quotes attributed to Dawson. “I would never hurt my parents. I loved them,” he said, and, “I didn’t need to kill anyone in order to inherit the farm. Time would’ve taken care of that whether I wanted it to or not.”
That made sense to her. Murder did seem like a drastic approach for a son who was set to inherit anyway. But the police claimed he wasn’t willing to wait. They said that after Dawson achieved a master’s in environmental science and management at UC Santa Barbara—quite an accomplishment, considering he’d spent his high school years at a boys ranch—he started working for a lighting conservation company, also in Santa Barbara, until he got into a disagreement with the owner and was fired after only eight months. Discouraged, since he couldn’t make a go of life even with a degree, he returned to Silver Springs to work for his parents.
Although that sounded plausible to Sadie, Dawson painted his personal history in a different light. From what she could piece together, he said that he argued with the owner of the lighting company because the guy was bilking the local utility out of thousands of dollars on various state-mandated rebate programs. And it wasn’t because he couldn’t get a job that he came back to Silver Springs. He’d barely started to apply when he realized that his parents could no longer manage the farm on their own. So he gave up the life he was going to pursue to come help them.
Devil...or saint?
With a frown, Sadie opened a Word document and began to write down the various points so that she could keep them straight. On the night in question, the police said Dawson went to The Blue Suede Shoe, a local bar that offered live entertainment on the weekends, where he watched a Lakers game on the big screen and played pool with Aiyana’s oldest two sons, Elijah and Gavin Turner. He left at eleven-thirty and stopped by the gas station to fill up before going home. The police admitted they couldn’t figure out if he planned the murders in advance, or if he decided to kill his parents on the spur of the moment, but while everyone was