AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What makes you think I haven’t been forthright?”
She gave him an innocent smile. “I didn’t say that.” A pause. “Sometimes you can just tell.”
On the front steps, Alia had said she didn’t have much interest in psychic sorts of things. Landry never had, either, though he knew people who did. Several of the waitresses at the bar would sooner miss paying their rent than have to cut out their readings, and Miss Viola had once confessed that she’d consulted a psychic on a number of occasions.
“Some things are meant to remain private,” he said evenly.
“And some aren’t, even if we think they should.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with the deaths.”
Evie’s gaze settled on him, sharp, steady but kind. “How can you know that?”
His mouth thinned. He wanted to believe he was right, but he didn’t know it. There was only one thing, to his knowledge, that linked Jeremiah, Camilla, Miss Viola and Brad Wallace that was important enough to kill over. But that one thing had happened so long ago. Why now? After all these years, why would it lead to murder?
“How many people have died?” Evie asked.
He didn’t have to take a moment to count. The number was there, in the back of his mind, dark and ugly. “Seven.”
“Seven, three of them innocent bystanders. How many could there be?”
Briefly he considered turning her question back on her: How could I know that? But if the killings were tied to the past—his past—he could make an educated guess. Instead, he corrected her. “Four of them were innocent.” But that wasn’t totally true. Miss Viola hadn’t deserved to die, but she hadn’t been entirely innocent. She’d known something and done little about it.
What she’d done had saved him and Mary Ellen and that was all he’d ever really cared about. But apparently it had also got Miss Viola murdered. And Camilla. Who else was on the killer’s list? How many besides the obvious targets? Was he there? Was Mary Ellen?
“Miss Viola meant a lot to you, didn’t she?” Evie asked softly.
He nodded while watching the older kid, Jackson, dangle his sister’s doll over the fountain.
“She died because she helped you.”
His gaze flickered sideways to her. Had DiBiase told Murphy that, or was she reading whatever it was psychics read? “Probably.”
“Her help allowed you to get to a place and a time where you could help yourself. If you help find justice for her, your debt to her will be repaid.”
Debt. Miss Viola had never looked at it that way. Everything she’d done, she had done because she loved him. She’d told him that whenever he’d brought up how much he owed her. She had loved him, and she had died in part because of him, and it didn’t matter who else shared in his secrets. Justice for Miss Viola was more important than keeping their pasts buried.
It was more important than protecting Jeremiah’s reputation.
It was damn sure more important than Landry’s own privacy, because if not for Miss Viola, he doubted he would have any sort of life worth keeping private.
Keeping his voice even, he said, “Your son’s about to dunk your daughter’s doll in the fountain.”
Evie smiled. “She’s not innocent herself. I’ll bet she’s threatening the same with his favorite toy.”
Landry leaned to the side to see that she was right. The pretty little girl, who looked angelic in a white dress and bare feet, was holding a gaming system inches above the water.
“Jackson, Isabella, stop it right now.” She didn’t raise her voice or even look to see if they obeyed. It had been that way in the Jackson household, too, but it had been fear that made him and Mary Ellen instantly obey. The Murphy kids did it out of respect for their mother.
The French doors behind them opened, and Alia and Murphy came out. He stood behind Evie, his hand on her shoulder. With the baby in her arms, they made a picture that stirred something like envy inside him. He had never had that kind of commitment or...serenity in his life. Under the circumstances, he thought he was pretty well adjusted. He had his share of one-night stands and short-term relationships. He’d even had a few long-term, when he’d been as close to loving a woman as a lot of men ever got.
But he’d never really committed to those women. He’d never imagined them in his life because he’d never told them what that life included. He’d never told them the truth.
The truth shall set you free.
It might find Miss Viola’s killer. It might protect Mary Ellen.
It might change the way Alia looked at him, because for a lot of years, it had damn well changed the way he had looked at himself.
