The Mystery at Sag Bridge

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Cora, Cisco and Frannie sat in silence, thinking, looking around the room, anywhere but at each other. Each of them reacted differently to Cavanaugh's letter, which Cora had just finished reading aloud.

Cisco's face was relaxed, his eyes wide and clear. Cora supposed he was relieved, thinking the letter solved the mystery and led to the end of their problems.

Frannie gazed, unfocused, across the room. Legs crossed, she jiggled one foot up and down. Cora thought Frannie's mind was ticking away, trying to understand Cavanaugh and wondering what their next step should be.

Cora's own thoughts refused to follow a single path, and she struggled with her emotions, but couldn't understand why. Why wasn't she simply relieved, like Cisco? Shouldn't she be elated that they found what they were looking for? Instead, she had an empty feeling in her gut, and a sense of trepidation, of more unpleasantness to face. She sat with her arms crossed, head bowed and eyes closed.

Was she confused by the tragedy, her sympathy for Meg and Angel? Although Meg and Angel were the same, her mind separated the living woman from the spirit. For the first time she considered how she would feel if Angel left for good-after all, she was part of Cora's life as long as she could remember. Was she afraid to tell Angel what they found out? Or all of it.

"So that's it then," Cisco said.

"A fit of passion, that's what this whole business is about. What a sanctimonious, hypocritical jackass!" Frannie ranted, as she uncrossed her legs, stomped her foot on the floor, and banged a fist on the table. "That Cavanaugh didn't feel any more sorry when he wrote that letter than when he killed those poor people for no good reason. You catch how he justified everything, like what he did was accidents, not his fault? He never did a damn thing, just putting words down way later like everybody should feel sorry for him getting caught up in bad stuff."

"Yeah, we caught that," Cisco said, leaning forward with his arms on the table. "But I don't think he was a murderer by nature-just a selfish man carried away by greed. He didn't see anything wrong with stealing from his partner, or ditching Kitty after what he did to her. And he never felt sorry for his victims, just himself. Called the poor family slobs."

"Amoral, don't they call it? Where was this guy's head? He rationalizes away his guilt, just circumstance, then he makes an Act of Contrition? For what, I say? To cover all the bases? Here's what I wonder-I wonder how many killers want to make a confession before they die, and how many want to die with their secret. I say he wanted to take credit for what he did, not look for forgiveness. He was bragging, not complaining."

"This guy wouldn't write a confession for anything but a selfish reason-he was too preoccupied with himself," Cisco stated.

"Wonder how that letter got lost in the first place," Frannie said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"I bet the Reverend Tully moved and it just got mislaid. Tully didn't stay here all his life, isn't that right Cora?" Cisco turned to Cora, who was sitting quietly, hands tucked under her armpits, eyes still closed, deep in thought and trying to shut out their voices.

She opened her eyes and shook her head slowly. "I can't talk about this now. I have to go to sleep and face it in the morning."

Cisco tipped his head toward Frannie. "She calls it incubating. She believes if she doesn't think about something for a while, her subconscious will come up with answers. It doesn't work all the time, but often it does work. Maybe she'll have an idea in the morning-or maybe not."

"You guys go on home if you're not afraid Angel will get you," said Frannie. "I don't know where I'm going yet, but not home. I'm not about to be going anywhere she might figure out I could be!"