“First you said it was a crime of passion, now you’re trying to make him into a serial killer? Which is it, Uncle? Lizzie Borden or Ted Bundy?”
“Both,” he said with a haughty lift of a brow.
As I considered his defiant eyes, my body pulsed with determination. “You know something? I’ll get the truth. Even if I have to drive to Roanoke and camp outside Uncle Jackson’s house.” Folding my arms, I invaded his personal space with deliberate ease. I wanted him as uncomfortable as possible. “Admit it. I saw something the morning Mother died.” When his face blanched, I smiled. “Never mind. I have my answer.”
“I swear, if you continue with this, I’ll….”
“You’ll what?”
At that exact moment, the massive double doors burst open. They hit the walls with a raucous thump. Auntie stormed in. The silky train of her white geisha lounging pajamas fluttered behind her.
She looked from Uncle to me. “What in God’s name is going on in here?”
“Ask him,” I said as I slammed out of the room.
SHANNON
____________________________
“Give me the benefit of the doubt for once,” I hissed into my office phone. “I’m telling you they’re all lying.”
“No, you think they’re lying,” Darien amended. “Look, you asked about hypnosis from a legal perspective and I’m telling you, it’s a hard sell. Anyway, there’s no reason to let some quack go poking around in your head.”
“I’ll never know what happened otherwise.”
“You solved the letter mystery. Why isn’t that enough?”
My pulse pounded. “This isn’t about the letter!”
“Since when? For weeks, you’ve been going on about some grand conspiracy. You tell me Patrick O’Dell forged your name, but you refuse to press charges. Why? Because you’re hell-bent on proving your family’s involved in a murder cover-up. Can’t you see how insane this sounds? Damn. Hold on. I’ve got another incoming.” The line clicked. “Darien Montgomery.”
This made the third interruption. Why the hell couldn’t he just ignore the calls? “It’s still me,” I ground out.
“Oh, sorry. I’ll be right back.”
When he switched over, I glowered at the lobby. My staff had mounted a laughable attempt to look otherwise occupied, but any idiot could see they’d been eavesdropping.
Moments ago, my discussion with Darien had lapsed into a heated debate. No doubt, my audience had overheard more than it should have.
“Sorry,” he said. “Now what do you know about this quack?”
Chair wheels creaked when I scooted forward. I didn’t mention Dr. Rosen’s name since Darien would recognize it from the research he’d done about Trace’s letter.
“The doctor isn’t a quack. He’s a board certified—”
“How long has he been in practice?” Darien’s voice boomed in my ear. “And what the hell happened to get you this worked up? You’ve been reading the transcripts again, haven’t you?”
“If what I suspect is true, they’re riddled with lies and distortions.” I rested my forehead on my palm. “The last thing I need is to cloud my brain with nonsense. Uncle Jackson was like a father to me and after he moved, the relationship stayed warm until I started asking questions.”
“I don’t doubt it. You’ve been calling him a liar.”
“Trace reported Mother to him. It was the night before the murder. Then later, Uncle Jackson said Trace’s claims were unfounded. Under oath. He said no one saw anything. He stuck to this lie even during Gartner’s cross!”
“This is old news. Jackson questioned everybody. Nobody corroborated Dawson’s crazy claims. Not his mother. Not even you.”
“Because they manipulated us all!”
“Do you hear yourself? This is crazy talk.”
I bolted up and started moving around like a caged animal. “Someone—either Uncle Sears, Uncle Jackson, or both—did something to me. I read my testimony. I couldn’t have been that convincing on my own. I was coached.”
Darien’s hard sigh made my eardrum vibrate. “Sears called me. He’s worried about you. He said you were with Dawson.”
I rolled my eyes. “Worried my ass….”
“So it’s true?”
“They’re all lying and you’re pointing fingers at me?”
“Damn it, Shannon, you broke your promise!”
I jarred to a stop, raked my fingers through my hair, and whispered, “A promise I never should have made. My biggest mistake was in relying on you and everyone else.” I flopped into my chair. “Uncle tells you I’m crazy, and you believe it because you’ve got him on a pedestal. That’s what’s going on here. He says jump, and you—”
“Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. Neither is Sears.”
“That he might’ve killed Mother never crossed your mind?”
“More crazy talk,” he snapped. “Dawson was guilty—is guilty. You can rationalize this forever, but he brought it on himself when he picked up that garden spade.”
“Picked up is right. He found it in the driveway.”
“No. He claimed he found it in the driveway.”
“Just like Uncle Sears claims I wasn’t manipulated,” I slammed back. “You can’t have it both ways.”
Darien raised his voice. “What the hell are you talking about? He confessed!”
“No, he didn’t. He was bullied into a plea bargain.”
“You mean I bullied him, right?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “This isn’t even about him, is it? This is about you being wrong. Because if he didn’t do it, then you convicted an innocent man. God forbid the great Darien Montgomery, Esquire, should make a mistake.”
“I don’t deserve that. Especially not from you!”
I slapped my palm on the desk. “You weren’t there and neither were those jurors. I was. The boy I knew back then couldn’t have squashed a bug!”
My ears were burning. I looked up to find five sets of curious eyes on me. My staff had gathered around the water cooler. They’d spoken in hushed whispers, but upon discovery, they broke into exaggerated chatter.
I swiveled my chair around. “I have to go.”
Darien must have sensed the chasm between us had grown dangerously wide. “I don’t want us to part like this,” he said gently. “I need to know we’re okay.” He paused. “Are we?”
Shame doused my anger, but its source had changed. Now I felt guilty for the lie I was about to tell. “We’re fine.”
“Well, good.” He sounded relieved. “I wanted to surprise you, but I’m coming home early for Christmas. We’ve been apart so long, I fear you’ve forgotten what I look like.”
Clearly Uncle put him up to it. Home? Now? “But the trial—”
“Kate and the others have a good handle on things,” he said. “Honestly, I need a break—I need you, honey.”
I loved Darien—truly, fiercely, and deeply, but I wasn’t in love with him. Even worse, I feared my heart belonged to another, and maybe it always had.
Only problem was, I didn’t know whether I had the guts to follow it.
The office door chimed. I looked up to witness the Lovejoys pile in wearing the longest faces I’d ever seen. Ian nodded at Beatrice and led his wife to a seat. Something was wrong. Had I forgotten an appointment with them? I rifled through my day planner. No. They weren’t closing for another week.
“Ah, Darien, I need to go. I’ll call you later.”
As soon as I hung up, Beatrice’s voice exploded from the intercom. “The Lovejoys are here and there’s a Judy Mott from Dr. Rosen’s office on line 2. They had a cancellation and can fit you in tomorrow morning at 10:45. Is that good?”