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A thoughtful light flared in Finn's eyes. "That Bria Coolidge's icy shell is merely a mask to hide the soft, warm, sentimental woman that she really is deep down. " He paused. "Kind of like you. Black and crunchy on the outside, marshmallow-soft on the inside. "
I gave him a hard stare. "I am not a fucking marshmallow. And I am especially not sentimental. "
"Of course not. That's why you just hacked and slashed your way through several giants to save a long-lost sister you haven't seen since you were thirteen. " Amusement colored his placating tone.
My eyes narrowed to slits, but Finn just grinned at me. My angry face had long ago lost its effect on him. Finn knew that I'd rather hurt myself before I did him.
"But come here, I've saved the best for last," he said, gesturing for me to follow him once more. "What's most interesting about Bria is this. "
Finn opened a door at the end of the hallway, and we stepped into Bria's home office. Wooden desk, computer, stapler, sticky pads, lots of books and papers stacked everywhere. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary-until Finn snapped on the light. And there it was, pushed against the back wall.
An eight-by-ten picture of one of the spider rune scars on my palms.
The photo was stuck in the middle of the biggest dry-erase board I'd ever seen. And it wasn't alone. There were more pictures, ones that I recognized from the file of information that Fletcher Lane had left me-autopsy photos of my mother and my older sister. The burned husks of their bodies. Mounted right next to the photo of my scar.
My stomach clenched, and that icy fist started squeezing my heart again.
"What the hell is this?" I whispered.
Still shocked, I moved closer to the dry-erase board. In addition to the photos, notes had been scribbled all over the surface in a variety of colors. Murdered, burned, bodies reduced to ash in red. Physical evidence in black. Possible suspects in navy blue. Motive? in a bright green.
"What the hell is this?" I repeated.
My eyes went up and down and all around the dry-erase
board. Everywhere I looked there was another piece of information about the night my family had been killed, about the night that Mab Monroe had burned our house to the ground.
"I believe some folks call it a murder board. It's a visual representation of all the evidence found in relation to a crime. Some cops use them to help connect the dots or keep track of leads. " Finn leaned against the doorjamb. "From the looks of it, I'd say Bria is investigating the murder of your family. Just like you started to, after Dad left you that file. "
"All right. I can understand her doing that, wanting to know the truth, who was behind the murders and why. But where did she get all this information?" I asked. "Especially that photo of the spider rune scar on my palm?"
I peered at the photo, wondering how I'd been so sloppy as to let someone take a picture of my hands. Oh, every once in a while, someone eating at the Pork Pit caught a glimpse of my scarred palms. But I was always able to pass the marks off as burns I'd gotten working in the restaurant. It wasn't like I ever stopped, held them up for everyone to see, and posed for pictures-
And then I remembered. Fletcher Lane had bought a digital camera a few months before he died. He'd brought it to the Pork Pit one day to show it off to me. A fancy newfangled device, he'd called it in his gruff voice. The old man had started taking my photo, and I'd finally put my hand out in mock surrender to get him to stop. He'd snapped a final picture and smiled before putting the camera away.
"Fletcher," I murmured. "He's the one who took the photo. "
I told Finn about the camera incident and how I hadn't thought anything of it at the time.
Finn's green eyes drifted over the murder board. "That's not all Dad did, is it? He sent Bria the same folder of information that he left you, Gin. He sent her the exact same file about Mab Monroe murdering your mother and older sister. "
"With a twist. Fletcher sent Bria a photo of my scar instead of the lovely headshot of her that he provided for me. Very thoughtful of him not to send her a glossy of my face. " I shook my head. "I can understand Fletcher leaving me the information. I've made my peace with that. But why would he send it to Bria too? What did he hope to accomplish?"
"I don't know," Finn murmured. "Maybe he wanted to see how she'd react to the knowledge that you were still alive. Maybe he wanted to bring Bria to Ashland on her own terms. "
I dropped my eyes from the board. "Doesn't much matter now, does it? Fletcher's gone, Bria's in town, and Mab wants her dead. Whatever the old man started with Bria, she's come to Ashland to finish it. If Mab doesn't get to her first. "
"Speaking of finishing things, there's one more thing you should see," Finn said.
He moved to the right side of the board, put his hand on the top edge, and slowly turned it over. The board was constructed in such a way that it could be flipped over without moving the entire structure around. The back of the board was filled with just as many photos and scribblings as the front side. Only there was one distinct difference.
The back of the board dealt entirely with Mab Monroe and her organization. It was organized like a classic Mob pyramid. Mab's picture sat alone on top of the board. Underneath her photo were shots of Elliot Slater and Jonah McAllister. Below them were even more pictures of the various goons that made up Mab's organization. Bria had written notes beside each photo, with words like Indicted, Arrested, or Dead. There were more Dead notations than anything else. Not surprising, given Mab's dislike for failure.
"I think we know why Mab sent Slater to kill your sister," Finn said. "One of the reasons anyway. Looks like Bria's set her sights on the Fire elemental. "
"Why?" I asked. "Because she wants to clean up Ashland? Or because she knows Mab murdered our mother and sister?"
Finn shrugged. "Does it really matter at this point?"
