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Daisy
The police are gone,and I’m trying very hard not to run to the toilet, stick my head in the bowl and puke. Withholding the fact I found Liam’s body should bother me most, but perversely, I can justify that because I didn’t lie. I just omitted information. I suppose one could say I lied when I answered the question “When did you last see him?” but I interpreted that as “When did you last see him alive?” and I was relatively honest there. I admitted I’d seen him after Celeste went to bed. I said he cornered me outside, drunk, and made inappropriate comments, and I turned him down and walked away. Which is technically true.
I had walked away after he confronted me. I just hadn’t gotten far. That’s when he’d grabbed me by the wrist, leaving those bruises.
“Uh-uh, Miss Daisy. You don’t want to walk away from this conversation.”
“Let go of my arm.”
His fingers tightened. I wheeled, slamming his arm up, the surprise making him let go enough for me to wrench free. When he bounced back, he was facing the blade of my utility knife.
“Miss Daisy has teeth,” he said. “What a surprise.”
He grabbed at me midsentence, as if talking was supposed to lower my guard. He caught my wrist, nails scraping before I slashed my knife at his arm. A gash opened, blood welling, and he pulled back, hand to his injury.
“It’s a paper cut,” I said. “Touch me again, and I stab, and that’ll do some actual damage.”
His eyes flashed, jaw setting in a way that was supposed to make him look tough, but it was a little boy’s pout.
“You think you hold something over me,” I said. “But you’re going to need to explain it, in small words, so my tiny brain can follow. You know who I am, and you’re threatening to do what exactly? Tell the police that I’m the real Celeste Turner? Thanks. You never struck me as the type to do pro bono work, but I’d appreciate it.”
His lips twisted in a humorless smile. “If you wanted that, you’d have done it by now. There’s a reason you’re playing this game, and I think I know what it is. You want her punished.”
I shrugged and fixed on my poker face. “Maybe, that’d be the cherry on top, but the ice cream sundae is getting her out of my house, and you doing that for me isn’t exactly a threat. What do you want, Liam? And what are you offering in return?”
He hesitated at that. He’d thrown my name at me, thinking it gave him the upper hand, but he hadn’t worked it through. Yes, I’d prefer not to step forward until I knew whether the imposter had murdered my grandmother, but I could do it now, if I had to.
He rolled his shoulders, tugging back the mantle of control. “We both want revenge. She conned me. Seduced me. I only realized that today. Something about you kept nudging at me. I finally figured it out. You remind me of Maeve. Your facial shape. Your chin. It nudged at me until the answer popped. That’s why I was late getting here tonight. I was doing my research. Digging up a photograph of you as a child.”
Did I believe that? Not for one moment. The second part may be true, where he just figured out my identity, but being conned by the imposter? Seduced? Liam Garey as the victim here? Nope. Still, I only nodded, accepting the lie as offered.
He continued, “If the truth came out, I’d be professionally embarrassed.”
“And you think I can help with that.”
“No, I can resolve that on my own.” He was amused by my offer, relaxing as he pushed me back into my box. Silly little Daisy, the earnest child who honestly thought she could help him. “There’s another matter that I would like to discuss, and I would prefer not to do it on this road.”
I sighed. Then I said, “Lift your arms and let me pat you down.”
His brows shot up. “What?”
“I’m agreeing to go someplace private with you, but I’m sure as hell making sure you’re unarmed first.”
His lips twitched—more amusement. Then he lifted his arms and said, “Pat away.”
He wasn’t armed. I didn’t expect him to be. Liam Garey considered himself permanently armed by the double-barreled rifle of privilege and intellect. He was better than all of us. He was smarter. That’s all he needed.
I led him around the backyard on the other side of the property. He wanted to stop there. I kept going until we reached that stand of trees where he balked about dirtying his shoes. Once we were just inside, I said, “Let’s try that again. What do you want, Liam?”
“How much do you know about Bill Turner’s treasure?”
I coughed. It was the only way to cover up a burst of laughter. I bent over, hacking, hand to my mouth, and he patiently waited for me to get it under control.
“Bill Turner?” I said. “My grandfather?”
“Yes.” The slightest twitch of his lips, satisfied that he had the upper hand. Poor Daisy didn’t even know the story. How convenient. “My father represented your grandfather in several legal entanglements. Theft charges, none of which resulted in convictions, thanks to my father’s work.”
No, thanks to my grandfather’s cunning.
