Page 169 of Over Her Dead Body

“You killed a young woman in my home.”

Genevieve walks to the window.

No denial.

That would have been insulting.

“I didn’t expect the girl to pick it up.”

“That is your objection? That it wasn’t Emma?”

“No.”

She turns.

There are very few people in my life capable of looking guilty without appearing sorry. Genevieve has perfected it.

“You saw Reid with Emma,” I say.

“I saw many people that night.”

“Yes.”

She smiles then, but there is nothing pleasant in it.

“You sound jealous.”

“You were reckless.”

The smile disappears.

That is the part neither of us particularly enjoys.

Genevieve has spent years insisting Reid is an appetite she can put down when necessary. I have spent nearly as long pretending my interest in Emma is more intellectual than proprietary.

Genevieve comes back toward me.

“You think I tried to kill her because I was jealous about Reid?”

“I think you made a decision you would have mocked in anyone else.”

“And yet you kept her alive.” She stops between my knees. “For the business?”

“Among other things.”

Her fingers settle against my collar and straighten something that was not crooked.

This is how Genevieve apologizes.

She leans closer.

“You’re angry.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Probably.”