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“I know. Still, she struck a sore spot, mostly by insulting my integrity, saying I was only thinking of myself. So we fought, and she ran me off, like she did you. I was busy with the shop, so time passed quickly. I still made sure she had what she needed. Glory used to drive her into town for her appointments, and I’d sneak over and fix stuff up while she was gone, and Maeve pretended not to notice her faucet suddenly worked again.”
“You shouldn’t have done that after how she treated you.”
“I wanted to. Anyway, time passes, and one day I nearly run over this woman jogging on the road. Last person I remember jogging in Fort Exile was you, and that made me smile. Never thought much of it until I saw her again, and I asked someone who she was, and they said it was Maeve’s granddaughter, Celeste. So, the next time I saw her, I said hello, and she obviously had no clue who I was, and I figured...” He shrugs. “I figured I just hadn’t made as much of an impression on you as you did on me.”
My brows rise. “You thought I forgot you?”
“Hey, you thought I didn’t recognize you.”
“But you did think Celeste looked like me.”
“I thought she could be you. When I actually saw you again, out jogging in the rain that day, that lightbulb went off, and now I wonder how I ever made that mistake. I did realize she wasn’t you sooner, though. During Maeve’s funeral, I looked over at that woman playing the grieving granddaughter, and I knew. So I started searching for you.”
He smiles at my expression. “It was a shitty effort. I had no idea where to start, so I hired an investigator, only to discover how expensive that is. I had to pull the plug fast, and I kept digging on my own. I was doing that, slowly but surely, when you showed up and saved me the trouble.”
He chomps through two pork rinds before saying, “Someone else was looking for you, too.”
“What?”
“My investigator got a lead on where you used to live, growing up, and one of the neighbors said someone else had come looking for you a few months earlier. He couldn’t give me more than that. I figured it must be fake-Celeste. She couldn’t have gotten far, though, because she obviously has no idea who you are.”
Liam did.I don’t say that. I’ve dragged Tom into this enough already. Admit that Liam ID’d me, and that’s motive for murder—another secret for Tom to keep.
I sip my beer in silence. Then I ask, “How did she treat Maeve? I know you weren’t close with Gran at the time, but did you get a sense...?”
When he doesn’t answer, I say, “Does that mean you don’t want to give her any credit? Or you don’t want to upset me by admitting Celeste treated her poorly?”
“Door number one. If fake-Celeste mistreated Maeve, I’d have stepped in. So would Glory and others.” He chews over his words before spitting out, “Maeve needed looking after, and fake-Celeste did it. Because that was in her best interests, obviously. Maeve would have kicked her ass out otherwise.”
I want to tell him what I suspect. That Celeste may have played a role in Gran’s death, either through intentional neglect or outright murder. If I say that, though, how’s he going to react when I want to go back to that house? Live under that roof with a possible killer?
No. I will get to that, but for now, that part’s mine and mine alone.
Celeste
Morning comes, and I wake to the smell of bacon frying. Daisy is in the kitchen making breakfast. Bright-eyed and humming, she’s busy flipping eggs, and I watch her as I drag my sorry ass into the room.
I await a surge of jealousy that doesn’t come.
So you and Tom, huh?
Can’t say I saw that coming, but good on ya.
“Hey,” Daisy says and reaches to pour me a coffee. When I move to take the mug from her, she waves me toward the table. “Sit. Relax. I’m sure you had a rough night.”
“Hmm.” I take the full mug from her. “How about you? Seemed quiet at your end of the house.”
“I went out after the police left. I couldn’t sleep.”
“You must have been out for a while,” I say as I sip my coffee. “I didn’t hear you come back in.”
“I walked past Tom’s place and saw a light on, so I popped in to talk about finding the Rover. He’s going to get the word out, see if anyone noticed anything suspicious.”
“And you spent the night, I take it?”
Her brows rise in genuine surprise. Then she laughs under her breath. “Uh, no. We just talked. I was back by two.”
Silence, then she asks, “Have you heard anything from the police?”
“No. They’re bringing dogs into the wetlands out back today.”
Not one twitch of surprise crosses her face. Only discomfort and concern, and she says, “It’s just a precaution.”
“Do you really believe that?” I ask.
She turns back to the stove. “I believe Liam could be okay.”
“But he’s probably not.”
She doesn’t answer that, just arranges my breakfast on a plate and then launches into questions about the house, about the order of repairs. I’m not distracted, but I play along as I wait for a knock at the door.
