“What the hell do you remember then?”
She stopped in front of me. “The night Mother kissed you. I was in the—”
“You saw that?”
“Yes,” she said with a frantic nod. “I heard her tell Cook—Mrs. Campbell—to send you up once you finished your duties. I was afraid Mother would make you…do things, so I hid in her closet. After you rejected her, I ran after you, but I bumped into her vanity table and the vase with the calla lilies fell. Then Mother slapped me and—”
I flashed a palm. “We’re getting sidetracked here.”
“Why do you think I’ve been hounding my family? Calling Sheriff Gray? I only had good memories of Mother, but then I found the diary pages and my world flipped upside down.”
“Shannon….”
“I found Mrs. Campbell through the internet. I called, wrote half a dozen letters, but her granddaughter won’t let me see or talk to her. I wanted to know about the fight you and Mother had by the pool the night before she died—”
“Shannon! What does this have to do with my question?”
“Are you even listening?” She shoved her bangs off her forehead. “I don’t know if my memories are real or by-products of my imagination. I have never felt this isolated and lost. I had direction. A purpose. But now everything’s twisted. So yes, my head is in the clouds. You know why? Because the earth’s just too damn confusing right now!”
That was too bad because I wanted nothing to do with her aimless obsession. I could tell her about the letter Cook had written me after Mama died last year.
The old woman had asked for just one thing—that I visit her as soon as I got out. She had things to tell me, the letter had said. Secret things. I figured she wanted to purge her conscience, but I wasn’t about to oblige her. Just like I wouldn’t be obliging Shannon.
“Let’s get somethin’ straight,” I said. “The pool fight, the trial, and everything else is off limits.”
She gave her head a slow shake. “For God’s sake, why?”
“I spent half my life dwelling on it. What time I got there. Where I went. Who I saw. Well, no more. I’ve moved on.”
“But if you do nothing, you’ll never know.”
If I had wanted to dredge all this crap up, I’d have gone down in the basement by now and fixed the burned-out fuse for the ceiling lamp. Facing fear sounded brave, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass about brave. I just wanted my life back.
“Shannon,” I said calmly, “you’re asking me to open my wrists. To bleed. Well, no thanks. I’m done with that.”
“I want to remember and you want to forget. We can’t resolve this if you refuse to broach it!”
“We don’t need to broach nothin’,” I snapped. “You should’ve made up your mind way before you got in my face.”
“When I swore I didn’t write that letter you refused to believe me at first. You wanted proof.”
“Can you blame me?”
“God, no. I understand completely.”
I gestured. “Then what’s your point?”
“You only believed me after I gave you proof, yet you expect me to just take your word for it?”
“You’re damn right I do.”
Her eyes hardened. “Why am I held to a higher standard?”
“Twelve years in stir, that’s why.”
“So now we’re fighting over who suffered more?”
My face burned hot with anger. “I didn’t kill her,” I shot back. “Do you believe me or not?”
“You only care about what you want. Well, what about—”
I snatched my helmet and shouldered past her. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Trace!”
I kept going.
“Did you kill that man in Gainstown?”
My heart hit the floor and I froze. The subtle hint of her perfume let me know she was close. She stood before me and I could barely look at her. Black, spiky lashes framed her tilted eyes, eyes that burned with desperation.
I rolled my shoulders. “I said I didn’t kill your mama, yet you don’t believe me. Why is now any different?”
“Just answer me, please.”
“What’s one got to do with the other?”
“Everything and nothing.”
I hung my head and sighed. Having laid Nyle to rest, I thought I’d moved past this, but secrets had a way of crawling from the darkest of graves. Could I put Amber’s freedom and my life in Shannon’s hands? Why should I when she didn’t believe me about Lilith?
It was all bullshit.
“Tell me,” she said. “Is it true?”
“No.” I moved around her, yanked the deadbolt and ripped the door open. Wind smacked me. The lot was almost full by now, with the brunt of cars clustered at Walmart.
She tugged my arm and I twisted around. Heat like a thousand hells burned into me. Her hand all but seared its shape into my flesh through the leather while we stared at each other.
Our labored breaths formed twin wisps of fog that knotted into one. A lock of hair tangled in her lashes and I reached to brush it back, but she flinched, just as she had in the limo.
The shock of what she’d just done played out on both of our faces. “Oh, my God,” she said. “I-I didn’t mean—”
That was the worse cut of all.
I swung away without looking back, not really sure what disturbed me the most—that she was still afraid of me or that I’d just lied to her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Promises To Keep
SHANNON
____________________________
Three days before Lilith Bradford’s murder….
“What’re you doing, Shadow?” Trace asked me one breezy afternoon. “Your mama said she didn’t want you coming out here.”
“Please don’t tell.”
He hesitated, then waved me closer. “All right. But this is the last time.”
Dressed in gym shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, I eased down next to him, where he reclined against a gnarled old oak. Its foliage veiled the early September sun, and painted gray dapples across the greenest tall fescue in the county.
Miller’s Pond was our place of refuge, a magical port in whatever storm the day brought. We were safe here. Nothing could harm us.
“Hey,” I said, staring at the grass.
“Hey yourself.”
“Here’s the surprise I told you about.” I handed him a ring I’d won at the fair last week. It took six tries, at twenty-five cents a pop. “Do you like it?”
He worked the small golden circle onto his pinky finger—with difficulty—and held his hand out to inspect the sparkling blue gem in the center. “It’s right nice, but my birthday’s not for another four months.”
My chin bumped my chest. Shyness weighed it down. “This isn’t a gift. It’s a reminder.” I played with my fingers. “Your middle name is Phillip, and that’s a Prince Phillip ring,” I said. “Remember the Sleeping Beauty DVD you got me the Christmas before last? You bought it because you said I look like Aurora. Well, the inscription on the inside of that ring says ‘Prince Phillip.’ I thought you’d get a kick out of it. Anyway, I want you to wear it, so you’ll remember.”
He cocked his head. “Remember what?”
“Me,” I murmured. “I’ll be eighteen in four years. So we can go travel the world. I’m thinking Paris first.”
“Paris, huh?” He smiled. “You got some big dreams.”