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“I ask you to withdraw your request for a second autopsy,” she says.

I want to look at Isabelle. See her face. But I don’t. And I want to smile the victor’s smile. But I won’t. Because I meant what I said to Isabelle earlier. This isn’t about winning. There can be no winner.

“Why would I do that?” I ask.

Isabelle remains conspicuously quiet. I wonder if Julia is expecting her to jump to her defense.

“Well,” Julia says, faltering as she glances from me to Isabelle to Hildebrand. I get the feeling she was counting on Isabelle to take her side. “There’s no sense in dragging us all through that, is there? Delaying the funeral. Making people wonder why. Asking questions.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I could give a fuck.”

“What about my son. Do you give a fuck about him?” she snaps.

“Do you?” I ask.

She looks appropriately affronted.

“Mr. St. James,” Hildebrand starts, stands. “Perhaps we should leave what little dignity Mr. Bishop has left intact.”

“What dignity would that be?” I ask him. “He died fucking a whore while his supposed beloved, the mother of his child, was at home warming his bed. Or at least that’s what I’m being told I should believe,” I address her with this last part.

Hildebrand clears his throat. “There’s no need for cruelty, St. James.”

“I didn’t have to share this information,” Julia says, appealing to Isabelle. “But I wanted to make an effort. For our families’ sakes. For Matty.” She turns to me. “For Angelique.”

My jaw tightens at the mention of my daughter. I quickly consider something. I think maybe it would be a good idea to send Angelique away for a little while. Until this is finished. Until Julia Bishop is no longer a threat.

“What are you afraid of?” I ask. “What do you think will be discovered?”

“Nothing. Of course. It’s just a waste of time. I’d like to put this behind myself and my son and start over. God knows Matty deserves that. Doesn’t he, Isabelle?”

“He does,” Isabelle says and takes Julia’s hand. “But for there to be peace between our families, and there must be because we are joined for better or for worse, all of us, let Jericho have his second autopsy. And when nothing is discovered, then it will be behind us. All suspicions erased.”

Julia looks at her with a moment of what I swear is hate on her face. Does Isabelle see it? It’s there and gone in a split second. Then Julia smiles, nods.

“You’re right, cousin. You’re right.”

She meets my eyes momentarily and I wonder if she sees the small upward curving of my lip. That’s for her eyes only. The autopsy is scheduled for tomorrow. And my wife is on my side. Now those are victories. Especially the latter.

I squeeze Isabelle’s hand.

36

Isabelle

I’m wrapped up in my own thoughts on the way home and once we’re back, Jericho goes into his office. I place a notebook and pencil into my backpack, pull on an oversized sweater and walk to the chapel.

I need to be alone. To think.

There’s just one thing that doesn’t add up.

Once I’m at the cemetery I can’t help my glance to Nellie’s grave marker. The shovel is gone and the ground doesn’t look disturbed. I look in the direction of where I’d seen what I thought was the end of a cigarette, but the sun is shining and there’s no one out here.

I walk into the chapel and replace the tea light in front of Christian’s photo. I then take a seat on the front pew, resting the notebook on my knees, my feet on the seat. I tug the sweater closer. There’s always a chill here. All that stone never warming up. I open my notebook and hold my pencil, but can only stare at the blank page as I think. As I go over what happened at Councilor Hildebrand’s office again.

What Julia said makes sense. Maybe it was all Carlton. It fits. It would work. He hired Danny Gibson to hurt me.

No.

Not just hurt me but to kill me. To ensure the inheritance wouldn’t go to me or to any child I would bear in the future.

Christian paid the heaviest price for his greed. I don’t feel sad for the loss of Carlton. I don’t feel it as a loss. And I don’t know what that says about me but it’s the truth.

The way Carlton paid Gibson. Using Julia’s account. Her name. He could easily do that. It’s absolutely possible and even without questioning it, I’m still here. Still trying to line things up.

There are two things about today that have me thinking.

Jericho claimed that Julia had gone to see Gerald Gibson, Danny’s brother, the night she left me at the theater. He claimed the van that almost ran me over was in his garage.

He didn’t bring it up today. He could have confronted Julia, but he didn’t.

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