December 18, 2024 • 29 mins
On a cold Christmas Eve in the idyllic mountain town of Cedar Hollow, the prominent Porter family gathers for the holiday—only to face an unthinkable tragedy. When Evelyn Porter, the wealthy and controlling matriarch, is found dead in her mansion, Detective Jack Rourke is called in to investigate. As Rourke digs into the Porter family’s lives, he uncovers a web of dark secrets, bitter betrayals, and unresolved grudges that run deeper than anyone suspected. Each of Evelyn’s children—loyal Thomas, estranged Laura, and troubled Daniel—had reasons to resent her, and each harbors secrets that could have deadly consequences.As the investigation unfolds, Rourke finds a mysterious letter and clues pointing to Evelyn’s shadowed past—a past that included dangerous alliances and betrayal. With chilling evidence of a legacy haunted by deceit, Rourke pieces together the events that led to her death, realizing that her killer may be closer than he ever imagined. In a story where family bonds are both powerful and toxic, Silent Snow: The Christmas Eve Mystery is a suspenseful holiday thriller that shows that some secrets refuse to stay buried—even under the snow.
This content was created in partnership and with the help of Artificial Intelligence AI
This content was created in partnership and with the help of Artificial Intelligence AI
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Episode one, The Heart of Cedar Hollow. Christmas Eve wrapped
Cedar Hollow in a chill that seeped through gloves and scarves,
biting through wool coats, but no one seemed to mind.
Speaker 2 (00:09):
Holiday cheer was everywhere.
Speaker 1 (00:10):
Wreaths hung from every street, lamp red bows and pine
garlands draped across storefronts, and lights twinkling like stars from
every window.
Speaker 2 (00:18):
The town was alive with tradition tonight.
Speaker 1 (00:21):
Up and down Main Street, families were gathering, parents laughing
as they chased their children through the snow. Carrollers gathered
on the steps of the First Church, singing Oh Holy
Night in voices that rang out across the square. Shops
displayed their best holiday decorations, and even the occasional hint
of wood smoke from someone's fireplace seemed to linger sweetly
in the air. But up on Porter Hill, just beyond
(00:43):
the reach of the town lights, the Grand Porter Mansion
sat dark, the Christmas lights unlit, its wide windows, empty
and hollow. The Porter Mansion was a cedar and stone
monolith with tall iron gates that had been locked as
long as most people could remember, and it loomed over
Cedar Hollow as if if it were a separate world.
The mansion was older than most of the town itself,
(01:04):
built by Thomas and Laura's great grandfather. Generations of Porters
had called at home, but the current matriarch, Evelyn Porter,
was the one whose presence was felt most strongly throughout
the town. Evelyn was known in Cedar Hollow as a
woman of nearly mythical proportions. There was no secret she
didn't know, and she had a way of making even
grown men shrink beneath her gaze. She was a patron
(01:26):
to the town, pouring money into charities and church funds
the way a queen might distribute coins among her subjects.
But people whispered, as they always did. Some said Evelyn's
charity was her way of keeping people loyal, a tool
she wielded as effectively as a knife. It wasn't entirely
uncommon to hear people mutter, especially this time of year,
that Evelyn Porter gave with one hand and took with
(01:48):
the other. Yet tonight she was missing, and people noticed
among the crowd. Her eldest son, Thomas, stood with a
view of the house. He was a tall man with
hard lines around his mouth and a gaze that flickered
sharp as a blade toward Porter Hill. In his dark coat,
he cut a somber figure, his breath curling in thick
clouds against the cold. He had been watching the town festivities,
(02:10):
or pretending to, ever since the carollers began, but his
mind was elsewhere with the nagging feeling he'd carried in
his gut since early that afternoon. It was a hollow,
gnawing feeling, as if something had gone awry in a
way he couldn't yet understand. A woman's voice called out
to him from the crowd, Thomas, there you are. It
was his sister, Laura, and her tone held that same
(02:32):
cold edge she'd had since she came back to Cedar Hollow.
Thomas turned, taking in her figure, tall, almost regal in
her bearing, with a slim coat that clung to her frame.
She was beautiful in a severe, unapproachable way, like a
portrait of someone from another time, one of their family's ancestors.
Laura had the same piercing gaze as Evelyn, and even
(02:54):
though she'd spent years away from Cedar Hollow, she still
carried herself with a certain weight, as if she never
really liked left looking for mother Laura's voice was tinged
with mockery, a smile curving her lips. Maybe she's finally
had enough of Cedar Hollow. God knows I would. Thomas
clenched his jaw, holding back the reply he wanted to make.
(03:15):
Laura's bitterness had only grown since her return, fueled by
whatever stories she'd dredged up for that book of hers,
the book everyone was whispering about the true story of
Cedar Hollow. She was calling it, though everyone knew it
would be nothing more than scandalous gossip, all aimed at
the porter's Laura was watching him, her expression shifting. She's
probably just being her usual self, drama queen to the end.
(03:37):
She said it lightly, but Thomas caught a flash of
something in her eyes, fear maybe, or something darker. He
ignored it, turning back toward Porter Hill. The light in
the study window was still faintly visible, a single candle
flickering in the vast darkness of the house. I don't
think she's playing games tonight, he said quietly. Laura crossed
her arms, drawing herself up. Don't tell me you're actually worried.
(03:57):
It's probably nothing. She looked up at the mansion. Her
expression changed, softening just for a moment. A strange silence
settled between them, broken only by the distant laughter of
children two the Porter family dynamics. The silence between Thomas
and Laura was brittle as glass, stretching, taut and ready
(04:18):
to shatter. They stood on the edge of the holiday cheer,
watching the town square as if they were strangers to it.
But each of them knew what was really weighing on
the other, even if neither would say it out loud.
Evelyn Porter had ruled their lives like a monarch, fierce,
unwavering and utterly merciless when she needed to be, and now,
on Christmas Eve, she was nowhere to be seen. Where's Daniel,
(04:42):
Laura asked, finally breaking the silence. Thomas shrugged, the motion
stiff and unconvincing. Where he always is I assume getting
himself into trouble, She scoffed, folding her arms and casting
a look of disdain back.
Speaker 2 (04:55):
Toward the square.
Speaker 1 (04:56):
If mother knew half of what Daniel's been up to lately,
she'd well, she'd kill him. There was a glint in
her eyes, something dangerous, almost triumphant. Thomas's lips twisted. He
had no love for Daniel's reckless habits, but Laura's contempt
was always sharper, more cutting. She had no tolerance for
the youngest of them, and it showed in every word
she said about him. And yet Thomas knew there was
(05:18):
a small measure of truth in her words. If Daniel's
gambling debts had taught him anything, it was that Evelyn's
goodwill had limits. Word around town was that Daniel was
into some very dangerous people, people who wouldn't take no
for an answer. Evelyn had finally shut him out, leaving
him desperate, nearly penniless, and more angry than ever. He
watched his sister, wondering if she knew more about Daniel's
(05:41):
troubles than she let on. You don't know that for sure,
he replied, Oh please. Laura shot him a look. If
you ask me, Daniel's problems are just another example of
mother's unique parenting style. Her voice was bitter, and Thomas
knew where it came from. Laura had always been the
most willful of the three, the one who chafed hardest
(06:02):
under their mother's rules, and Evelyn had cracked down on
her with the same icy authority she used in everything.
When Laura had announced her departure from Cedar Hollow at
twenty five, Evelyn had barely raised an eyebrow. It was
as though she had washed her hands of Laura the
moment she stepped out the door. And yet here Laura
was back in town, drawn like a moth to the
(06:23):
flames she'd spent years trying to escape. Laura's return had
stirred up trouble almost immediately. Her so called memoir, a
manuscript titled The True Story of Cedar Hollow, was as
incendiary as anything the town had ever seen. Gossip ran wild,
tales of family secrets, Evelyn's rumored connections to shady business deals,
(06:43):
even hints at a scandal in the Porter family history
that Laura claimed would rock the town to its core. Naturally,
Evelyn had tried to stop it. She'd gone so far
as to bring in lawyers, filing motions and cease and
desist orders, doing everything short of dragging Laura to court.
But Laura, it seemed, was undeterred. Her goal, she told
anyone who would listen, was to expose the truth. The
(07:05):
irony wasn't lost on Thomas. After all, Laura was as
much a product of Evelyn's iron will as any of them.
You think writing a book about mother's crimes is going
to make people love you, Laura, Thomas asked, his voice
edged with disdain. Or are you just looking to make
a quick buck? Don't be naive, Thomas, She shot back,
I don't care about the money. Her voice softened, but
(07:27):
there was something dangerous in it. Some people need to
know the truth about her. Thomas shook his head. What
truth that she made tough decisions, or that she didn't
take kindly to being crossed? But Laura didn't answer. Instead,
her gaze drifted back to the mansion, her face clouded,
and Thomas wondered if, for a moment, she felt the
(07:48):
same foreboding he did. Family shadows, the family's dynamics were
like layers of old wallpaper, peeling and faded, each one
concealing something darker beneath it. People in Cedar Hullo whispered
about the Porters, about Evelyn and her children, and about
the things money and power could keep hidden. Evelyn Porter
was a matriarch of the Old School, a woman who
(08:09):
believed in tradition, in order, and in absolute control. When
Thomas had inherited the family business. He'd hope that running
Porter Industries would bring him closer to his mother's approval.
He'd done everything she'd asked, from pouring himself into the
business to watching his own marriage wither and die under
her judgmental eye. But Porter Industries was like an old
ship with rotting timbers. No matter how hard he worked,
(08:31):
the debts only grew, and his mother had offered little
more than her usual disdain. Fix it, Thomas, She'd said,
as if he could wave a magic wand or sell it.
We don't need it anyway, sell it. The idea had
shocked him. The business was part of the family's legacy,
and yet Evelyn had treated it like an inconvenience, a
(08:51):
relic she'd have gladly discarded if it suited her. Thomas
had carried the weight of that responsibility alone, while Evelyn
moved on unfhazed, focused on controlling every other aspect of
her children's lives. Then there was Daniel. He'd been the
golden boy once, the youngest child, and everyone had assumed
he'd go far. But whatever Evelyn had seen in him
(09:13):
as a child had soured as he grew older, and
by the time he was an adult, he was more
of an embarrassment than a prodigy. Daniel was a drifter,
a charmer who'd squandered his potential on late nights and
quick money, and Evelyn had finally reached her breaking point.
Speaker 2 (09:27):
She'd cut him off without so much as a goodbye.
Speaker 1 (09:30):
Daniel's resentment simmered like a coal in his chest, glowing
brighter with every passing day. Rumor had it he'd spent
the last of his money on a risky poker game
in a seedy dive just outside Cedar Hollow, and that
he owed people who didn't take kindly to unpaid debts.
If Evelyn hadn't been his mother, Daniel might have ended
up on the wrong side of the law long ago,
and maybe he still would. Laura's return had added another
(09:53):
layer of tension, and her book, the Book Evelyn Wanted Buried,
was the final spark. Laura was bringing something into the open,
something Evelyn had buried long ago. Thomas didn't know what
it was, but he knew it was dangerous. Do you
ever wonder why mother never told us about her past?
Laura's voice broke his thoughts. She was watching him, her
gaze steady and unflinching. Thomas shook his head. Some things
(10:15):
are better left buried. Not this, she replied, her voice
barely a whisper, Secrets and suspicions. It was then that Michael,
the family's groundskeeper, appeared, moving quickly through the crowd to
reach them. His face was pale, his eyes wide with
a fear that Thomas had never seen before. Thomas, Laura,
you need to come to the house now. The urgency
(10:36):
in his tone cut through the noise of the crowd.
Laura glanced at Thomas, her expression shifting from irritation to concern.
Something was wrong and they both knew it. Michael led
them back up the winding path to Porter Hill, past
the towering wrought iron gates, and up the snow dusted
stone steps. The house loomed larger and darker than ever,
its lights casting eerie shadows across the grounds. Michael stopped
(11:00):
at the door, turning to face them with a grave look.
I I don't know how to say this, he stammered,
his hands shaking as he fumbled for the words. It's
your mother, she's in her study. He pushed the door open,
leading them through the grand foyer and down the long hallway,
past portraits of ancestors who seemed to watch them with
accusing eyes. The silence was oppressive, thick and suffocating, and
(11:24):
every step they took seemed to echo louder than the last.
The study door was half open, and as they entered,
Thomas felt a cold weight settle in his chest. There,
seated in her favorite armchair was Evelyn Porter, her head
slumped forward, her hands resting limply in her lap. But
it was the marks around her wrists, thin angry red lines,
almost invisible in the dim light, that drew his attention.
(11:46):
Laura gasped, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. Thomas
stepped closer, his gaze fixed on his mother's face, trying
to make sense of what he was seeing. This wasn't
just a death. It was a message, a warning, left
behind like a calling card. In her lap, a folded
piece of paper sat just within reach. Thomas picked it up,
unfolding it slowly as hands shaking. The note was scrawled
(12:08):
in rough handwriting, its words chilling in their simplicity. Your
secrets will be your end, Evelyn. Christmas Eve is coming.
He looked at Laura, his face pale, the note still
clutched in his hand. For the first time, he saw
a flicker of fear in her eyes, a glint of
something that went beyond their family's petty grievances. In the
stillness of the room, they stood frozen, two children in
(12:31):
the shadow of a legacy they'd never truly understood, each
of them wondering how deep the darkness went and whether
any of them could escape it. Segment three, discovery of
Evelyn's body. They lingered there, standing in Evelyn's study like
children caught misbehaving, the air so thick with the scent
of pine and candle wax that it felt almost suffocating.
(12:52):
It was a beautiful room by daylight, with wide windows
overlooking cedar Hollow and shelves lined with old books bound
in worn leather. Evelyn had spent countless hours here, her
sanctuary of order and quiet, But now under the dim
glow of a single lamp, the study was steeped in
a darkness that felt heavy, tangible, a place where secrets
(13:13):
had settled.
Speaker 2 (13:14):
Layer by layer over the years.
Speaker 1 (13:16):
Thomas moved forward, feeling his pulse race in his ears
louder with each step. He reached out to touch his
mother's shoulder, his hand, hovering for a moment before making contact.
Her skin was cool to the touch, stiff, and an
unnatural stillness had taken over her features. This was Evelyn,
but it was as if something vital, something fierce and indomitable,
(13:36):
had vanished from her. He cleared his throat, trying to
steady himself, mother, but the word fell flat in the
quiet room, swallowed by the silence. Laura was the first
to break. She took a step back, eyes wide and glassy,
one hand clutching the edge of the desk. She looked
from Evelyn's body to Thomas, her mouth moving as if
to speak, but no words came out.
Speaker 2 (13:58):
This, this can't be happening.
Speaker 1 (14:00):
She whispered, her voice barely audible. Thomas glanced over at her,
his expression hardening. He'd expected shock, even fear, but there
was something else in Laura's face, something like relief.
Speaker 2 (14:12):
The thought chilled him. What happened here? Laura's voice broke
through his.
Speaker 1 (14:16):
Thoughts, Thomas, what are we gonna do? And Thomas shook
his head, struggling to gather his thoughts. He glanced down
and saw once again the marks on Evelyn's wrists, thin
angry red lines that circled her skin like cruel bracelets.
The marks were faint but unmistakable, a haunting reminder that
her death hadn't been peaceful. Look at her wrists, he said,
(14:36):
his voice grim. Someone did this to her. Laura flinched,
her gaze following his.
Speaker 2 (14:42):
Who would? Why would anyone?
Speaker 1 (14:45):
But her words trailed off as if she couldn't bear
to finish the thought. Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway,
and Daniel appeared in the doorway, his face flushed from
the cold. He paused, taking in the scene before him,
and his eyes went wide. What the hell, he muttered,
his voice thick with disbelief. He took a step closer,
his gaze darting from Evelyn's body to Thomas, and then
(15:06):
to Laura.
Speaker 2 (15:06):
What's going on? What happened to her?
Speaker 1 (15:09):
Thomas held up the piece of paper he'd found clutched
in Evelyn's hand, watching as Daniel's face paled. Someone left this,
he said, his voice low.
Speaker 2 (15:18):
Read it.
Speaker 1 (15:20):
Daniel's hand shook as he took the note, his eyes
scanning the scrawled words. Your secrets will be your end, Evelyn,
Christmas eve is coming for a moment. None of them
spoke the room felt colder somehow, as if the very
walls had absorbed the darkness of that message. Do you
know anything about this? Thomas demanded, his gaze sharp as
he watched Daniel's reaction. Daniel shook his head, looking genuinely rattled. No,
(15:44):
I swear I don't know anything about it. He looked
from Thomas to Laura, his face tense. Do you think
could it be someone from town? You know how people
talk about her about us? Laura let out a bitter laugh.
Oh please, half the town practically worship the rest. Wouldn't
dare cross her. She glanced at the note again, her
face hardening. This isn't some stranger. This feels personal. Thomas
(16:10):
didn't disagree. The handwriting was scrawled, almost jagged, but there
was an intentional cruelty in the words, a venom that
felt too close, too intimate. Someone in this family wanted
her gone, Thomas muttered, more to himself than to his siblings.
Speaker 2 (16:25):
At that.
Speaker 1 (16:25):
Laura shot him a look, her expression turning defensive. Are
you accusing me? She asked, her voice rising. Thomas shook
his head, his gaze unwavering. I'm not accusing anyone. I'm
just saying, mother, had enemies, and some of them lived
under this roof. The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable,
each sibling avoiding the other's gaze. The weight of Evelyn's legacy,
(16:47):
of her influence and control, hung over them all like
a shadow, each of them knowing that they, in their
own way, had suffered under it. Finally, Daniel spoke, his
voice low and filled with a kind of desperate urgency.
We should call someone, the police, or I don't know
someone who can help. Thomas nodded slowly, realizing that the decision,
(17:07):
whatever it would mean, was now out of their hands.
This wasn't just a family matter anymore. Evelyn's death would
bring scrutiny, questions, and perhaps the exposure of secrets each
of them had fought to keep hidden. Detective Jack Rork arrives.
Detective Jack Rorke arrived with a quiet efficiency that spoke
of years of experience. He was a wiry man with
(17:27):
sharp eyes that missed nothing, taking in every detail of
the scene with an intensity that felt almost predatory. He
moved through the study like he was piecing together an
invisible puzzle, his gaze flickering over the bookshelf, the desk,
and finally resting on Evelyn herself. Rourke crouched beside her,
his gloved fingers examining the faint marks on her wrists,
his expression unreadable. He glanced up at Thomas, his gaze
(17:51):
as sharp as a blade. Tell me exactly what happened here,
he said, his voice calm but firm. Thomas swallowed, choosing
his words carefully. We we found her like this. I'd
been at the tree lighting along with my sister and brother.
We came back and she was here like this. His
voice faltered slightly as he spoke. Rourke nodded, taking in
the information with a slight frown. He turned his gaze
(18:13):
to Laura, who was hovering near the door, her arms
crossed tightly across her chest, Miss Porter, He said, did
your mother have any known enemies, anyone who might have wanted.
Speaker 2 (18:23):
To harm her?
Speaker 1 (18:24):
Laura hesitated, glancing at Thomas before answering.
Speaker 2 (18:27):
I, I don't know.
Speaker 1 (18:30):
She was respected, feared, maybe, but I don't know of
anyone who would do this. Rourke's gaze lingered on her
a moment longer, as if he scented something beneath her words. Finally,
he turned to Daniel, who was shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny,
and you, Rourke asked, his tone neutral but probing. Daniel
(18:50):
met his gaze with a slight defiance. Like Laura said,
she wasn't exactly beloved, but murder, that's that's something else entirely.
Roorke watched him for a moment, then nodded, seeming to
file away each of their reactions. He reached into his
pocket and pulled out a small evidence bag, carefully placing
the note inside. This, he said, holding the bag up
(19:12):
is not the work of a stranger. The phrasing, the handwriting.
Whoever left this wanted her to suffer. They wanted her
to know. It was personal. Thomas felt a chill run
through him at the detective's words. Rourke's instincts were sharp,
and he was right. This wasn't just a random crime.
This was someone's revenge.
Speaker 2 (19:30):
Now.
Speaker 1 (19:30):
Rourke continued his gaze sweeping over each of them. I'm
going to need a statement from each of you, one
at a time, and I want you to be completely
honest with me. Anything less and we're going to have
a serious problem. He gestured to Thomas, who nodded, his
face grim he would go first. As he followed the
detective into the adjoining room, his mind raced replaying the
events of the night and the words on the note.
(19:53):
Somewhere buried in the tangled web of his family's secrets
lay the answer, but whether he was ready to face it,
he wasn't sure. As the door closed behind him, leaving
Laura and Daniel alone in the study, a heavy silence
filled the air. Each of them knew that whatever happened
next would change everything.
Speaker 2 (20:11):
Four.
Speaker 1 (20:12):
Enter Detective Jack Rourke. The silence in the Porter mansion
was profound, like a thick blanket, muffling every sound, the
kind of silence that only falls after something terrible, as
though even the air itself is holding its breath. Detective
Jack Rorke sat across from Thomas Porter in a small,
dimly lit sitting room off the main hall, his face unreadable.
He had the air of a man who had seen
(20:32):
more than his share of dark things, and his eyes
held a sharpness that seemed to cut straight through pretense.
Let's start with you, mister Porter, Rourke said, his voice
steady and calm. You're the eldest. Yes, tell me about
this evening. Where you were, who you were with, and
what you saw. Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his
jaw tight. He wasn't a man used to being questioned,
(20:55):
especially not by an outsider. But Rourke's gaze was steady, unyielding,
and Thomas knew there was no way around it. I
was at the town square, Thomas began, his voice low
but measured. For the tree lighting its tradition, something our
mother insisted on every year.
Speaker 2 (21:10):
He paused, his gaze.
Speaker 1 (21:12):
Flicking toward the window, where the light from the study
window barely flickered against the cold darkness outside. Laura was there,
and Daniel, though he came late. Rourke nodded, making a
few notes in a small leather bound notebook. You left together,
not exactly, Thomas replied, shifting again. We Laura, and I
noticed our mother was missing. It was unusual for her
(21:34):
to miss something like that, and why would that be unusual.
Rourke's tone was casual, but there was a glint of
interest in his eyes. Because Evelyn Porter didn't miss things,
Thomas said, his voice suddenly hard. She ruled things, made
sure everything went according to plan. If she wasn't there,
there was a reason, a good one. Rourke nodded, noting
(21:57):
the tightness in Thomas's tone. So when your sister left
the square to check on her, Yes, Michael, the groundskeeper
found us and told us, told us something was wrong.
He swallowed, the memory of the moment washing over him
a wave of cold dread he couldn't shake. We came
back here to the mansion, and that's when we found
(22:18):
her like that. Rourke raised an eyebrow. And what did
you think seeing her like that? Thomas hesitated, his gaze hardening.
I thought someone, someone did this to her. I mean,
look at the note It wasn't an accident. Someone wanted
her dead. Rourke nodded thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing slightly. And
who exactly do you think would want your mother dead?
Speaker 2 (22:39):
Mister Porter?
Speaker 1 (22:40):
The question lingered in the air, sharp and dangerous. Thomas's
face darkened, but he remained silent. There was no easy
answer to that question, not with Evelyn. Rourke closed his notebook,
his gaze never leaving Thomas. That will be all for now,
mister Porter, Send your sister. In next Laura's story, Laura
(23:00):
entered the room with a quiet grace, moving in a
way that suggested she was used to scrutiny, used to
being watched. She took the seat across from Roorke, crossing
her legs and resting her hands neatly in her lap.
Rourke watched her for a moment, as though sizing her up.
You're Laura Porter, the middle child, correct, he asked.
Speaker 2 (23:18):
Yes.
Speaker 1 (23:19):
Her voice was smooth, controlled, but there was a hint
of something in her eyes, defiance perhaps, or maybe even fear.
Tell me about this evening where you were, what you
saw in any details you think might help us understand
what happened here. Laura's lips tightened slightly. I was at
the tree lighting with Thomas. I'd been avoiding the family gatherings,
(23:39):
but this year I came back to Cedar Hollow, thought
I'd do something nice, spend time with everyone. She shrugged,
but her tone was clipped, almost defensive. But I noticed
she wasn't there. You noticed Evelyn wasn't there. Roke repeated,
his gaze sharp. Why would that concern you? Laura hesitated,
glancing away because mother didn't miss things, not because she
(24:00):
wanted to be there, mind you, she was never sentimental
about Christmas or any holiday, but because she well, she
liked to control things, appearances, traditions. If she wasn't there.
It meant something was wrong. Rourke tapped his notebook with
his pen. You say she liked control, would you say
she was controlling over you and your siblings? Laura laughed,
(24:22):
a short, bitter sound. Control doesn't even begin to describe it, Detective.
My mother was more like a warden than a parent.
She decided everything, how we were raised, who we associated with,
even where we lived. Her gaze turned icy, so yes,
controlling would be putting it mildly. And how did that
make you feel? Laura narrowed her eyes. Is this some
(24:43):
kind of psychological profile, Detective?
Speaker 2 (24:46):
You think I hated her enough to kill her?
Speaker 1 (24:48):
Rourke raised a hand, his tone calm, I'm simply gathering information,
miss Porter. There's no accusation here, only questions. Laura took
a deep breath, her gaze softening. It doesn't matter what
I felt, Detective. Mother ruled with an iron hand, and
we all had to find ways to survive that. Thomas
did it by following her rules, doing exactly what she wanted. Daniel, well,
(25:11):
he rebelled and I left. I made a life outside
of her reach. She looked at Rourke, her expression unreadable,
But no one really escapes Evelyn Porter. Rourke made another note,
then looked back up at her. What about this book
you're working on, the one people in town are talking about.
Does it contain any secrets that Evelyn might have wanted
(25:31):
kept buried? Laura's gaze sharpened, and for the first time
she looked genuinely rattled. Who told you about the book?
Rourke shrugged. A small town has its way of talking,
Laura's lips pressed into a thin line. The book is
it's a memoir, a personal account. Yes, it talks about
the family, and yes some things are less flattering than others,
(25:52):
but it's not It's not something that would lead to murder.
Roorke watched her carefully, as though weighing her words. But
if someone, say, wanted to keep certain family matters private
and thought you might expose them, that could be a motive,
wouldn't you say? Laura looked away, a flicker of something
dark crossing her face. Look detective. If you're asking me
(26:12):
if I wanted her dead?
Speaker 2 (26:13):
No I didn't. But did I want to be free
of her control? Yes? We all did.
Speaker 1 (26:18):
Rourke nodded, slowly, jotting down a final note. That'll be
all for now. Miss Porter, send your brother in next
Daniel's account. Daniel entered the room with a slight swagger,
a defensive tilt to his chin. As he met Rourke's gaze.
He slouched in his seat, trying to look casual, but
his eyes darted around the room, betraying his unease. Orke
could sense it the way Daniel was like a coiled spring,
(26:40):
ready to snap at any moment. Daniel Porter youngest sibling.
Rourke began, I understand you arrived at the tree lighting
later than the others. Can you tell me where you were?
Daniel rolled his eyes. I was busy, got a little
tied up. Rourke raised an eyebrow. Care to elaborate. Daniel shrugged,
glancing away. Doesn't matter. I was there, wasn't I Roorke
(27:04):
leaned forward, his gaze unrelenting. Actually it does matter, mister Porter.
This is an investigation and I expect full cooperation. Daniel scowled,
looking ready to argue, but finally let out a sigh. Fine,
I was at the Hollow Tavern, all right, just having
a drink, minding my own business. Is that a crime now?
Speaker 2 (27:23):
Not at all?
Speaker 1 (27:24):
Rourke replied, calmly. But let's talk about your relationship with
your mother? How would you describe it? Daniel's face twisted
in a bitter smile. You want the truth. She hated me,
thought I was a disgrace to the family of failure.
She cut me off, left me defend for myself. Roorke
watched him carefully, And did.
Speaker 2 (27:43):
You hate her?
Speaker 1 (27:44):
Daniel's gaze dropped, his fingers, fidgeting with a loose thread
on his sleeve.
Speaker 2 (27:49):
Hate.
Speaker 1 (27:49):
No, But I didn't love her either, not the way
you're supposed to love a mother. He looked up, meeting
Rourke's gaze. I wasn't the only one. She ruled us
all with fear and money. That's just who she was.
And what about the note? Rourke asked, his voice dropping
to a softer tone. Do you have any idea who
might have written it? And Daniel shook his head, looking
(28:11):
genuinely disturbed. I don't know, but it wasn't me. Whatever
you're thinking, it wasn't me. Rourke nodded, making one last note.
That's all for now, mister porter, but I may have
more questions later. After the siblings left the room, Rourke
sat in silence, his mind sifting through their accounts, each
of them had secrets, resentments, wounds inflicted by the same woman,
(28:32):
and each had something to gain from her death, something
to be freed from. But Rourke couldn't shake the feeling
that there was something more to this, something buried deeper,
like a rot that went back further than any of
them cared to admit. He rose, moving to the study,
taking in the scene one last time. The marks on
Evelyn's wrists, the words, and the note, it all pointed
(28:52):
to a message, a warning from someone who had known
her well. As he looked out the window into the
snow covered night, he knew one thing for sure. The
truth would be ugly and it would leave no one unscathed.
This has been a quiet please production, head over to
Quiet Please dot a I to hear what matters.
Episode one, The Heart of Cedar Hollow. Christmas Eve wrapped
Cedar Hollow in a chill that seeped through gloves and scarves,
biting through wool coats, but no one seemed to mind.
Speaker 2 (00:09):
Holiday cheer was everywhere.
Speaker 1 (00:10):
Wreaths hung from every street, lamp red bows and pine
garlands draped across storefronts, and lights twinkling like stars from
every window.
Speaker 2 (00:18):
The town was alive with tradition tonight.
Speaker 1 (00:21):
Up and down Main Street, families were gathering, parents laughing
as they chased their children through the snow. Carrollers gathered
on the steps of the First Church, singing Oh Holy
Night in voices that rang out across the square. Shops
displayed their best holiday decorations, and even the occasional hint
of wood smoke from someone's fireplace seemed to linger sweetly
in the air. But up on Porter Hill, just beyond
(00:43):
the reach of the town lights, the Grand Porter Mansion
sat dark, the Christmas lights unlit, its wide windows, empty
and hollow. The Porter Mansion was a cedar and stone
monolith with tall iron gates that had been locked as
long as most people could remember, and it loomed over
Cedar Hollow as if if it were a separate world.
The mansion was older than most of the town itself,
(01:04):
built by Thomas and Laura's great grandfather. Generations of Porters
had called at home, but the current matriarch, Evelyn Porter,
was the one whose presence was felt most strongly throughout
the town. Evelyn was known in Cedar Hollow as a
woman of nearly mythical proportions. There was no secret she
didn't know, and she had a way of making even
grown men shrink beneath her gaze. She was a patron
(01:26):
to the town, pouring money into charities and church funds
the way a queen might distribute coins among her subjects.
But people whispered, as they always did. Some said Evelyn's
charity was her way of keeping people loyal, a tool
she wielded as effectively as a knife. It wasn't entirely
uncommon to hear people mutter, especially this time of year,
that Evelyn Porter gave with one hand and took with
(01:48):
the other. Yet tonight she was missing, and people noticed
among the crowd. Her eldest son, Thomas, stood with a
view of the house. He was a tall man with
hard lines around his mouth and a gaze that flickered
sharp as a blade toward Porter Hill. In his dark coat,
he cut a somber figure, his breath curling in thick
clouds against the cold. He had been watching the town festivities,
(02:10):
or pretending to, ever since the carollers began, but his
mind was elsewhere with the nagging feeling he'd carried in
his gut since early that afternoon. It was a hollow,
gnawing feeling, as if something had gone awry in a
way he couldn't yet understand. A woman's voice called out
to him from the crowd, Thomas, there you are. It
was his sister, Laura, and her tone held that same
(02:32):
cold edge she'd had since she came back to Cedar Hollow.
Thomas turned, taking in her figure, tall, almost regal in
her bearing, with a slim coat that clung to her frame.
She was beautiful in a severe, unapproachable way, like a
portrait of someone from another time, one of their family's ancestors.
Laura had the same piercing gaze as Evelyn, and even
(02:54):
though she'd spent years away from Cedar Hollow, she still
carried herself with a certain weight, as if she never
really liked left looking for mother Laura's voice was tinged
with mockery, a smile curving her lips. Maybe she's finally
had enough of Cedar Hollow. God knows I would. Thomas
clenched his jaw, holding back the reply he wanted to make.
(03:15):
Laura's bitterness had only grown since her return, fueled by
whatever stories she'd dredged up for that book of hers,
the book everyone was whispering about the true story of
Cedar Hollow. She was calling it, though everyone knew it
would be nothing more than scandalous gossip, all aimed at
the porter's Laura was watching him, her expression shifting. She's
probably just being her usual self, drama queen to the end.
(03:37):
She said it lightly, but Thomas caught a flash of
something in her eyes, fear maybe, or something darker. He
ignored it, turning back toward Porter Hill. The light in
the study window was still faintly visible, a single candle
flickering in the vast darkness of the house. I don't
think she's playing games tonight, he said quietly. Laura crossed
her arms, drawing herself up. Don't tell me you're actually worried.
(03:57):
It's probably nothing. She looked up at the mansion. Her
expression changed, softening just for a moment. A strange silence
settled between them, broken only by the distant laughter of
children two the Porter family dynamics. The silence between Thomas
and Laura was brittle as glass, stretching, taut and ready
(04:18):
to shatter. They stood on the edge of the holiday cheer,
watching the town square as if they were strangers to it.
But each of them knew what was really weighing on
the other, even if neither would say it out loud.
Evelyn Porter had ruled their lives like a monarch, fierce,
unwavering and utterly merciless when she needed to be, and now,
on Christmas Eve, she was nowhere to be seen. Where's Daniel,
(04:42):
Laura asked, finally breaking the silence. Thomas shrugged, the motion
stiff and unconvincing. Where he always is I assume getting
himself into trouble, She scoffed, folding her arms and casting
a look of disdain back.
Speaker 2 (04:55):
Toward the square.
Speaker 1 (04:56):
If mother knew half of what Daniel's been up to lately,
she'd well, she'd kill him. There was a glint in
her eyes, something dangerous, almost triumphant. Thomas's lips twisted. He
had no love for Daniel's reckless habits, but Laura's contempt
was always sharper, more cutting. She had no tolerance for
the youngest of them, and it showed in every word
she said about him. And yet Thomas knew there was
(05:18):
a small measure of truth in her words. If Daniel's
gambling debts had taught him anything, it was that Evelyn's
goodwill had limits. Word around town was that Daniel was
into some very dangerous people, people who wouldn't take no
for an answer. Evelyn had finally shut him out, leaving
him desperate, nearly penniless, and more angry than ever. He
watched his sister, wondering if she knew more about Daniel's
(05:41):
troubles than she let on. You don't know that for sure,
he replied, Oh please. Laura shot him a look. If
you ask me, Daniel's problems are just another example of
mother's unique parenting style. Her voice was bitter, and Thomas
knew where it came from. Laura had always been the
most willful of the three, the one who chafed hardest
(06:02):
under their mother's rules, and Evelyn had cracked down on
her with the same icy authority she used in everything.
When Laura had announced her departure from Cedar Hollow at
twenty five, Evelyn had barely raised an eyebrow. It was
as though she had washed her hands of Laura the
moment she stepped out the door. And yet here Laura
was back in town, drawn like a moth to the
(06:23):
flames she'd spent years trying to escape. Laura's return had
stirred up trouble almost immediately. Her so called memoir, a
manuscript titled The True Story of Cedar Hollow, was as
incendiary as anything the town had ever seen. Gossip ran wild,
tales of family secrets, Evelyn's rumored connections to shady business deals,
(06:43):
even hints at a scandal in the Porter family history
that Laura claimed would rock the town to its core. Naturally,
Evelyn had tried to stop it. She'd gone so far
as to bring in lawyers, filing motions and cease and
desist orders, doing everything short of dragging Laura to court.
But Laura, it seemed, was undeterred. Her goal, she told
anyone who would listen, was to expose the truth. The
(07:05):
irony wasn't lost on Thomas. After all, Laura was as
much a product of Evelyn's iron will as any of them.
You think writing a book about mother's crimes is going
to make people love you, Laura, Thomas asked, his voice
edged with disdain. Or are you just looking to make
a quick buck? Don't be naive, Thomas, She shot back,
I don't care about the money. Her voice softened, but
(07:27):
there was something dangerous in it. Some people need to
know the truth about her. Thomas shook his head. What
truth that she made tough decisions, or that she didn't
take kindly to being crossed? But Laura didn't answer. Instead,
her gaze drifted back to the mansion, her face clouded,
and Thomas wondered if, for a moment, she felt the
(07:48):
same foreboding he did. Family shadows, the family's dynamics were
like layers of old wallpaper, peeling and faded, each one
concealing something darker beneath it. People in Cedar Hullo whispered
about the Porters, about Evelyn and her children, and about
the things money and power could keep hidden. Evelyn Porter
was a matriarch of the Old School, a woman who
(08:09):
believed in tradition, in order, and in absolute control. When
Thomas had inherited the family business. He'd hope that running
Porter Industries would bring him closer to his mother's approval.
He'd done everything she'd asked, from pouring himself into the
business to watching his own marriage wither and die under
her judgmental eye. But Porter Industries was like an old
ship with rotting timbers. No matter how hard he worked,
(08:31):
the debts only grew, and his mother had offered little
more than her usual disdain. Fix it, Thomas, She'd said,
as if he could wave a magic wand or sell it.
We don't need it anyway, sell it. The idea had
shocked him. The business was part of the family's legacy,
and yet Evelyn had treated it like an inconvenience, a
(08:51):
relic she'd have gladly discarded if it suited her. Thomas
had carried the weight of that responsibility alone, while Evelyn
moved on unfhazed, focused on controlling every other aspect of
her children's lives. Then there was Daniel. He'd been the
golden boy once, the youngest child, and everyone had assumed
he'd go far. But whatever Evelyn had seen in him
(09:13):
as a child had soured as he grew older, and
by the time he was an adult, he was more
of an embarrassment than a prodigy. Daniel was a drifter,
a charmer who'd squandered his potential on late nights and
quick money, and Evelyn had finally reached her breaking point.
Speaker 2 (09:27):
She'd cut him off without so much as a goodbye.
Speaker 1 (09:30):
Daniel's resentment simmered like a coal in his chest, glowing
brighter with every passing day. Rumor had it he'd spent
the last of his money on a risky poker game
in a seedy dive just outside Cedar Hollow, and that
he owed people who didn't take kindly to unpaid debts.
If Evelyn hadn't been his mother, Daniel might have ended
up on the wrong side of the law long ago,
and maybe he still would. Laura's return had added another
(09:53):
layer of tension, and her book, the Book Evelyn Wanted Buried,
was the final spark. Laura was bringing something into the open,
something Evelyn had buried long ago. Thomas didn't know what
it was, but he knew it was dangerous. Do you
ever wonder why mother never told us about her past?
Laura's voice broke his thoughts. She was watching him, her
gaze steady and unflinching. Thomas shook his head. Some things
(10:15):
are better left buried. Not this, she replied, her voice
barely a whisper, Secrets and suspicions. It was then that Michael,
the family's groundskeeper, appeared, moving quickly through the crowd to
reach them. His face was pale, his eyes wide with
a fear that Thomas had never seen before. Thomas, Laura,
you need to come to the house now. The urgency
(10:36):
in his tone cut through the noise of the crowd.
Laura glanced at Thomas, her expression shifting from irritation to concern.
Something was wrong and they both knew it. Michael led
them back up the winding path to Porter Hill, past
the towering wrought iron gates, and up the snow dusted
stone steps. The house loomed larger and darker than ever,
its lights casting eerie shadows across the grounds. Michael stopped
(11:00):
at the door, turning to face them with a grave look.
I I don't know how to say this, he stammered,
his hands shaking as he fumbled for the words. It's
your mother, she's in her study. He pushed the door open,
leading them through the grand foyer and down the long hallway,
past portraits of ancestors who seemed to watch them with
accusing eyes. The silence was oppressive, thick and suffocating, and
(11:24):
every step they took seemed to echo louder than the last.
The study door was half open, and as they entered,
Thomas felt a cold weight settle in his chest. There,
seated in her favorite armchair was Evelyn Porter, her head
slumped forward, her hands resting limply in her lap. But
it was the marks around her wrists, thin angry red lines,
almost invisible in the dim light, that drew his attention.
(11:46):
Laura gasped, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. Thomas
stepped closer, his gaze fixed on his mother's face, trying
to make sense of what he was seeing. This wasn't
just a death. It was a message, a warning, left
behind like a calling card. In her lap, a folded
piece of paper sat just within reach. Thomas picked it up,
unfolding it slowly as hands shaking. The note was scrawled
(12:08):
in rough handwriting, its words chilling in their simplicity. Your
secrets will be your end, Evelyn. Christmas Eve is coming.
He looked at Laura, his face pale, the note still
clutched in his hand. For the first time, he saw
a flicker of fear in her eyes, a glint of
something that went beyond their family's petty grievances. In the
stillness of the room, they stood frozen, two children in
(12:31):
the shadow of a legacy they'd never truly understood, each
of them wondering how deep the darkness went and whether
any of them could escape it. Segment three, discovery of
Evelyn's body. They lingered there, standing in Evelyn's study like
children caught misbehaving, the air so thick with the scent
of pine and candle wax that it felt almost suffocating.
(12:52):
It was a beautiful room by daylight, with wide windows
overlooking cedar Hollow and shelves lined with old books bound
in worn leather. Evelyn had spent countless hours here, her
sanctuary of order and quiet, But now under the dim
glow of a single lamp, the study was steeped in
a darkness that felt heavy, tangible, a place where secrets
(13:13):
had settled.
Speaker 2 (13:14):
Layer by layer over the years.
Speaker 1 (13:16):
Thomas moved forward, feeling his pulse race in his ears
louder with each step. He reached out to touch his
mother's shoulder, his hand, hovering for a moment before making contact.
Her skin was cool to the touch, stiff, and an
unnatural stillness had taken over her features. This was Evelyn,
but it was as if something vital, something fierce and indomitable,
(13:36):
had vanished from her. He cleared his throat, trying to
steady himself, mother, but the word fell flat in the
quiet room, swallowed by the silence. Laura was the first
to break. She took a step back, eyes wide and glassy,
one hand clutching the edge of the desk. She looked
from Evelyn's body to Thomas, her mouth moving as if
to speak, but no words came out.
Speaker 2 (13:58):
This, this can't be happening.
Speaker 1 (14:00):
She whispered, her voice barely audible. Thomas glanced over at her,
his expression hardening. He'd expected shock, even fear, but there
was something else in Laura's face, something like relief.
Speaker 2 (14:12):
The thought chilled him. What happened here? Laura's voice broke
through his.
Speaker 1 (14:16):
Thoughts, Thomas, what are we gonna do? And Thomas shook
his head, struggling to gather his thoughts. He glanced down
and saw once again the marks on Evelyn's wrists, thin
angry red lines that circled her skin like cruel bracelets.
The marks were faint but unmistakable, a haunting reminder that
her death hadn't been peaceful. Look at her wrists, he said,
(14:36):
his voice grim. Someone did this to her. Laura flinched,
her gaze following his.
Speaker 2 (14:42):
Who would? Why would anyone?
Speaker 1 (14:45):
But her words trailed off as if she couldn't bear
to finish the thought. Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway,
and Daniel appeared in the doorway, his face flushed from
the cold. He paused, taking in the scene before him,
and his eyes went wide. What the hell, he muttered,
his voice thick with disbelief. He took a step closer,
his gaze darting from Evelyn's body to Thomas, and then
(15:06):
to Laura.
Speaker 2 (15:06):
What's going on? What happened to her?
Speaker 1 (15:09):
Thomas held up the piece of paper he'd found clutched
in Evelyn's hand, watching as Daniel's face paled. Someone left this,
he said, his voice low.
Speaker 2 (15:18):
Read it.
Speaker 1 (15:20):
Daniel's hand shook as he took the note, his eyes
scanning the scrawled words. Your secrets will be your end, Evelyn,
Christmas eve is coming for a moment. None of them
spoke the room felt colder somehow, as if the very
walls had absorbed the darkness of that message. Do you
know anything about this? Thomas demanded, his gaze sharp as
he watched Daniel's reaction. Daniel shook his head, looking genuinely rattled. No,
(15:44):
I swear I don't know anything about it. He looked
from Thomas to Laura, his face tense. Do you think
could it be someone from town? You know how people
talk about her about us? Laura let out a bitter laugh.
Oh please, half the town practically worship the rest. Wouldn't
dare cross her. She glanced at the note again, her
face hardening. This isn't some stranger. This feels personal. Thomas
(16:10):
didn't disagree. The handwriting was scrawled, almost jagged, but there
was an intentional cruelty in the words, a venom that
felt too close, too intimate. Someone in this family wanted
her gone, Thomas muttered, more to himself than to his siblings.
Speaker 2 (16:25):
At that.
Speaker 1 (16:25):
Laura shot him a look, her expression turning defensive. Are
you accusing me? She asked, her voice rising. Thomas shook
his head, his gaze unwavering. I'm not accusing anyone. I'm
just saying, mother, had enemies, and some of them lived
under this roof. The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable,
each sibling avoiding the other's gaze. The weight of Evelyn's legacy,
(16:47):
of her influence and control, hung over them all like
a shadow, each of them knowing that they, in their
own way, had suffered under it. Finally, Daniel spoke, his
voice low and filled with a kind of desperate urgency.
We should call someone, the police, or I don't know
someone who can help. Thomas nodded slowly, realizing that the decision,
(17:07):
whatever it would mean, was now out of their hands.
This wasn't just a family matter anymore. Evelyn's death would
bring scrutiny, questions, and perhaps the exposure of secrets each
of them had fought to keep hidden. Detective Jack Rork arrives.
Detective Jack Rorke arrived with a quiet efficiency that spoke
of years of experience. He was a wiry man with
(17:27):
sharp eyes that missed nothing, taking in every detail of
the scene with an intensity that felt almost predatory. He
moved through the study like he was piecing together an
invisible puzzle, his gaze flickering over the bookshelf, the desk,
and finally resting on Evelyn herself. Rourke crouched beside her,
his gloved fingers examining the faint marks on her wrists,
his expression unreadable. He glanced up at Thomas, his gaze
(17:51):
as sharp as a blade. Tell me exactly what happened here,
he said, his voice calm but firm. Thomas swallowed, choosing
his words carefully. We we found her like this. I'd
been at the tree lighting along with my sister and brother.
We came back and she was here like this. His
voice faltered slightly as he spoke. Rourke nodded, taking in
the information with a slight frown. He turned his gaze
(18:13):
to Laura, who was hovering near the door, her arms
crossed tightly across her chest, Miss Porter, He said, did
your mother have any known enemies, anyone who might have wanted.
Speaker 2 (18:23):
To harm her?
Speaker 1 (18:24):
Laura hesitated, glancing at Thomas before answering.
Speaker 2 (18:27):
I, I don't know.
Speaker 1 (18:30):
She was respected, feared, maybe, but I don't know of
anyone who would do this. Rourke's gaze lingered on her
a moment longer, as if he scented something beneath her words. Finally,
he turned to Daniel, who was shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny,
and you, Rourke asked, his tone neutral but probing. Daniel
(18:50):
met his gaze with a slight defiance. Like Laura said,
she wasn't exactly beloved, but murder, that's that's something else entirely.
Roorke watched him for a moment, then nodded, seeming to
file away each of their reactions. He reached into his
pocket and pulled out a small evidence bag, carefully placing
the note inside. This, he said, holding the bag up
(19:12):
is not the work of a stranger. The phrasing, the handwriting.
Whoever left this wanted her to suffer. They wanted her
to know. It was personal. Thomas felt a chill run
through him at the detective's words. Rourke's instincts were sharp,
and he was right. This wasn't just a random crime.
This was someone's revenge.
Speaker 2 (19:30):
Now.
Speaker 1 (19:30):
Rourke continued his gaze sweeping over each of them. I'm
going to need a statement from each of you, one
at a time, and I want you to be completely
honest with me. Anything less and we're going to have
a serious problem. He gestured to Thomas, who nodded, his
face grim he would go first. As he followed the
detective into the adjoining room, his mind raced replaying the
events of the night and the words on the note.
(19:53):
Somewhere buried in the tangled web of his family's secrets
lay the answer, but whether he was ready to face it,
he wasn't sure. As the door closed behind him, leaving
Laura and Daniel alone in the study, a heavy silence
filled the air. Each of them knew that whatever happened
next would change everything.
Speaker 2 (20:11):
Four.
Speaker 1 (20:12):
Enter Detective Jack Rourke. The silence in the Porter mansion
was profound, like a thick blanket, muffling every sound, the
kind of silence that only falls after something terrible, as
though even the air itself is holding its breath. Detective
Jack Rorke sat across from Thomas Porter in a small,
dimly lit sitting room off the main hall, his face unreadable.
He had the air of a man who had seen
(20:32):
more than his share of dark things, and his eyes
held a sharpness that seemed to cut straight through pretense.
Let's start with you, mister Porter, Rourke said, his voice
steady and calm. You're the eldest. Yes, tell me about
this evening. Where you were, who you were with, and
what you saw. Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his
jaw tight. He wasn't a man used to being questioned,
(20:55):
especially not by an outsider. But Rourke's gaze was steady, unyielding,
and Thomas knew there was no way around it. I
was at the town square, Thomas began, his voice low
but measured. For the tree lighting its tradition, something our
mother insisted on every year.
Speaker 2 (21:10):
He paused, his gaze.
Speaker 1 (21:12):
Flicking toward the window, where the light from the study
window barely flickered against the cold darkness outside. Laura was there,
and Daniel, though he came late. Rourke nodded, making a
few notes in a small leather bound notebook. You left together,
not exactly, Thomas replied, shifting again. We Laura, and I
noticed our mother was missing. It was unusual for her
(21:34):
to miss something like that, and why would that be unusual.
Rourke's tone was casual, but there was a glint of
interest in his eyes. Because Evelyn Porter didn't miss things,
Thomas said, his voice suddenly hard. She ruled things, made
sure everything went according to plan. If she wasn't there,
there was a reason, a good one. Rourke nodded, noting
(21:57):
the tightness in Thomas's tone. So when your sister left
the square to check on her, Yes, Michael, the groundskeeper
found us and told us, told us something was wrong.
He swallowed, the memory of the moment washing over him
a wave of cold dread he couldn't shake. We came
back here to the mansion, and that's when we found
(22:18):
her like that. Rourke raised an eyebrow. And what did
you think seeing her like that? Thomas hesitated, his gaze hardening.
I thought someone, someone did this to her. I mean,
look at the note It wasn't an accident. Someone wanted
her dead. Rourke nodded thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing slightly. And
who exactly do you think would want your mother dead?
Speaker 2 (22:39):
Mister Porter?
Speaker 1 (22:40):
The question lingered in the air, sharp and dangerous. Thomas's
face darkened, but he remained silent. There was no easy
answer to that question, not with Evelyn. Rourke closed his notebook,
his gaze never leaving Thomas. That will be all for now,
mister Porter, Send your sister. In next Laura's story, Laura
(23:00):
entered the room with a quiet grace, moving in a
way that suggested she was used to scrutiny, used to
being watched. She took the seat across from Roorke, crossing
her legs and resting her hands neatly in her lap.
Rourke watched her for a moment, as though sizing her up.
You're Laura Porter, the middle child, correct, he asked.
Speaker 2 (23:18):
Yes.
Speaker 1 (23:19):
Her voice was smooth, controlled, but there was a hint
of something in her eyes, defiance perhaps, or maybe even fear.
Tell me about this evening where you were, what you
saw in any details you think might help us understand
what happened here. Laura's lips tightened slightly. I was at
the tree lighting with Thomas. I'd been avoiding the family gatherings,
(23:39):
but this year I came back to Cedar Hollow, thought
I'd do something nice, spend time with everyone. She shrugged,
but her tone was clipped, almost defensive. But I noticed
she wasn't there. You noticed Evelyn wasn't there. Roke repeated,
his gaze sharp. Why would that concern you? Laura hesitated,
glancing away because mother didn't miss things, not because she
(24:00):
wanted to be there, mind you, she was never sentimental
about Christmas or any holiday, but because she well, she
liked to control things, appearances, traditions. If she wasn't there.
It meant something was wrong. Rourke tapped his notebook with
his pen. You say she liked control, would you say
she was controlling over you and your siblings? Laura laughed,
(24:22):
a short, bitter sound. Control doesn't even begin to describe it, Detective.
My mother was more like a warden than a parent.
She decided everything, how we were raised, who we associated with,
even where we lived. Her gaze turned icy, so yes,
controlling would be putting it mildly. And how did that
make you feel? Laura narrowed her eyes. Is this some
(24:43):
kind of psychological profile, Detective?
Speaker 2 (24:46):
You think I hated her enough to kill her?
Speaker 1 (24:48):
Rourke raised a hand, his tone calm, I'm simply gathering information,
miss Porter. There's no accusation here, only questions. Laura took
a deep breath, her gaze softening. It doesn't matter what
I felt, Detective. Mother ruled with an iron hand, and
we all had to find ways to survive that. Thomas
did it by following her rules, doing exactly what she wanted. Daniel, well,
(25:11):
he rebelled and I left. I made a life outside
of her reach. She looked at Rourke, her expression unreadable,
But no one really escapes Evelyn Porter. Rourke made another note,
then looked back up at her. What about this book
you're working on, the one people in town are talking about.
Does it contain any secrets that Evelyn might have wanted
(25:31):
kept buried? Laura's gaze sharpened, and for the first time
she looked genuinely rattled. Who told you about the book?
Rourke shrugged. A small town has its way of talking,
Laura's lips pressed into a thin line. The book is
it's a memoir, a personal account. Yes, it talks about
the family, and yes some things are less flattering than others,
(25:52):
but it's not It's not something that would lead to murder.
Roorke watched her carefully, as though weighing her words. But
if someone, say, wanted to keep certain family matters private
and thought you might expose them, that could be a motive,
wouldn't you say? Laura looked away, a flicker of something
dark crossing her face. Look detective. If you're asking me
(26:12):
if I wanted her dead?
Speaker 2 (26:13):
No I didn't. But did I want to be free
of her control? Yes? We all did.
Speaker 1 (26:18):
Rourke nodded, slowly, jotting down a final note. That'll be
all for now. Miss Porter, send your brother in next
Daniel's account. Daniel entered the room with a slight swagger,
a defensive tilt to his chin. As he met Rourke's gaze.
He slouched in his seat, trying to look casual, but
his eyes darted around the room, betraying his unease. Orke
could sense it the way Daniel was like a coiled spring,
(26:40):
ready to snap at any moment. Daniel Porter youngest sibling.
Rourke began, I understand you arrived at the tree lighting
later than the others. Can you tell me where you were?
Daniel rolled his eyes. I was busy, got a little
tied up. Rourke raised an eyebrow. Care to elaborate. Daniel shrugged,
glancing away. Doesn't matter. I was there, wasn't I Roorke
(27:04):
leaned forward, his gaze unrelenting. Actually it does matter, mister Porter.
This is an investigation and I expect full cooperation. Daniel scowled,
looking ready to argue, but finally let out a sigh. Fine,
I was at the Hollow Tavern, all right, just having
a drink, minding my own business. Is that a crime now?
Speaker 2 (27:23):
Not at all?
Speaker 1 (27:24):
Rourke replied, calmly. But let's talk about your relationship with
your mother? How would you describe it? Daniel's face twisted
in a bitter smile. You want the truth. She hated me,
thought I was a disgrace to the family of failure.
She cut me off, left me defend for myself. Roorke
watched him carefully, And did.
Speaker 2 (27:43):
You hate her?
Speaker 1 (27:44):
Daniel's gaze dropped, his fingers, fidgeting with a loose thread
on his sleeve.
Speaker 2 (27:49):
Hate.
Speaker 1 (27:49):
No, But I didn't love her either, not the way
you're supposed to love a mother. He looked up, meeting
Rourke's gaze. I wasn't the only one. She ruled us
all with fear and money. That's just who she was.
And what about the note? Rourke asked, his voice dropping
to a softer tone. Do you have any idea who
might have written it? And Daniel shook his head, looking
(28:11):
genuinely disturbed. I don't know, but it wasn't me. Whatever
you're thinking, it wasn't me. Rourke nodded, making one last note.
That's all for now, mister porter, but I may have
more questions later. After the siblings left the room, Rourke
sat in silence, his mind sifting through their accounts, each
of them had secrets, resentments, wounds inflicted by the same woman,
(28:32):
and each had something to gain from her death, something
to be freed from. But Rourke couldn't shake the feeling
that there was something more to this, something buried deeper,
like a rot that went back further than any of
them cared to admit. He rose, moving to the study,
taking in the scene one last time. The marks on
Evelyn's wrists, the words, and the note, it all pointed
(28:52):
to a message, a warning from someone who had known
her well. As he looked out the window into the
snow covered night, he knew one thing for sure. The
truth would be ugly and it would leave no one unscathed.
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