Deandra fished an olive out of her drink with her fingernails, popped it in her mouth. “And yet nothing that you claim to have done is why I’m here right now, is it?”
White-hot heat climbed up the back of Shepherd’s neck, crawled along his scalp, and invaded his face. “Excuse me,” he said, instead of swearing, with great effort, “but your daughter was theonlyone who cared you were missing.”
Deandra stared at him, her ice-blue eyes perfectly blank, before her gaze slid off him and landed on her ex-husband.
Bradley sighed. “He’s not wrong. We took a vote, honey, and only Ginny and I opted to pay the ransom. When that got denied, she went out on her own. Well, with her fiancé here. I don’t know exactly what they did, but Ginny was determined to save you.”
Honey. What a strange thing to call your ex-wife. They were definitely gonna get married. Again. For the third time.
Deandra finished off her drink. She held out her glass to no one in particular, and for whatever asinine reason, Shepherd took it and stood there holding it like an idiot.
“Thank you both,” she said flatly. “Though I do want it stated for the record that nothing you did saved me. Apparently, it was some anonymous tip the FBI received early this morning.”
Ginny sat back on her heels. “Mom, who took you?”
Deandra clicked her tongue. “I don’t know. Whoever killedMartin”—she shuddered—“was wearing a mask. I didn’t even get a good look at their eyes! They didn’t say more than a word to me at a time. It was a man, I think, because of the build, but I couldn’t tell you age or race. I was blindfolded in the car, and it stayed on until the police rescued me this morning. Dreadful experience, all the way around. I had to sleep with my hands tied on a couch, Virginia. Acouch—like some sort of frat boy. And the air conditioning was too strong!”
Ginny looked at Shepherd, and Shepherd could hear her thoughts. Mostly, they were swear words, but there was a theme of “Is she kidding?” prominent throughout.
Shepherd held up the empty martini glass in answer.
“I think I know who did this,” Ginny said. “I’ve known the whole time, but I wasn’t able to do anything about it. Dad? Can I … will you vouch for me, and let me question my stepsiblings?”
Bradley nodded, looking incredibly dignified for a man who had a five-year-old sitting on his shoe. “Yes, Ginny. I will call a meeting, and I will vouch for you.”
“What?” Shepherd asked. “What fresh hell is this? Vouch for you? God, Ginny. I thought the voting was weird enough! There’s some sort of vouching process now? For God’s sake. When does this nightmare end?”
Deandra smiled, and it was so bright and lovely that it reminded him, terrifyingly, of Ginny. She reached out and patted his hand. “Not until you’re dead, darling. Not until you’re dead.”
Shepherd wondered if that was what she said to her two husbands who died under mysterious circumstances, and if he’d just been threatened or welcomed into the family.
In this family, it was probably both.
It was Bradley who sat behind the desk in the office this time, not Elwin, who instead stood behind his son with an expression on his face that would cause lesser men to poop their pants. Shepherd, however, remained clean and dry. He was so sick of the Kents that they no longer made him nervous. Even the stepmoms, who sat together on the couch whispering,glaring at Deandra and Ginny, didn’t strike the same amount of fear as they used to. They were just as much outsiders as he was, even if they didn’t realize it.
Vincent’s wife and children were gone, but he was there, leaning against a wall and scrolling on his phone. The stepsiblings—what the hell were their names again, Cersei and Jaime?—sat in the two leather armchairs before the desk. And Ginny paced the room, shoulders back, head held high, looking magnificent in a bright green shirt that saidShepherd’s Piesin red letters over her chest.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, “thank you all for being here on such short notice. Dior, Dion.” Ginny stopped pacing and stood before the stepkids, a smile on her face that was anything but friendly.
Shepherd had never been more proud of her.
“I want to thank you both for coming. I know it must be difficult for you, being in the same room with my mother, safe and sound.”
The twins exchanged looks. “Darling,” Dior said, “we are delighted that Mummy Deandra was returned to us unharmed.” She turned in her seat to smile at the woman in question. “You had us all so very worried, dear.”
“Mom didn’t call this to order,” Ginny said. “I did. Speak to me and only to me.” She sounded so much like her mom, and yet so much like herself—brave and terrifying all at once. Shepherd suppressed a shudder that was part fear and part attraction.
Boy, was he in trouble!
“I thought it strange that the original ransom ask was the exact amount that Mom inherited when your father tragically passed. May he rest in peace.”
“May he rest in peace,” the twins repeated.
Ginny crossed her arms. “But then the kidnapper mentioned adebtin front of Mom.”
Well, that was an outright lie. Shepherd kept his mouth shut, of course, fascinated with watching lawyer Ginny work.
“How curious!” She continued, “Whatdebtcould Mom owe that was so similar to her inheritance?”
