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His mouth fell open. “You did what?”
“I killed my brother-in-law,” she repeated slowly. “Shot him, right between the eyes.” And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why? What did he do?”
She took another bite, taking extra time to chew while she got a hold on her emotions. “He killed my father and tried to make it look like my father had committed a crime.” A dirty, disgusting crime that Molly had to shove into the dark along with all of the other images that she couldn’t deal with.
“But your father hadn’t done it.”
“No. My father caught my brother-in-law trying to...” She put the bowl on her desk, grabbing a tissue to wipe her mouth. She couldn’t eat now, either. “I have a niece.” She could see understanding dawning in Gabe’s expressive eyes. “My brother-in-law was a sick sonofabitch. My dad suspected what he was up to and waited. Caught him going into my niece’s bedroom one night. Grabbed him and they fought. Jake—that was my brother-in-law—grabbed Dad’s gun and shot him with it.”
“Your dad had a gun?”
“He did. But he was a farmer, not a cop, and he hesitated. He’d never shot a person before. He couldn’t even shoot a coyote trying to steal his chickens. He always aimed over their heads and just bought more chickens.”
Gabe’s smile was sad. “He sounds like he was a nice man.”
“The nicest.” It was her turn to swallow hard. “I miss him every day.”
“Jake told everyone that your father was trying to molest your niece?”
“He did. But he underestimated my dad, who’d hidden a camera in my niece’s room.”
“So your niece was...” Gabe trailed off. “Jake was successful?”
She nodded once. This was the part she hated the most. Unfortunately, it was all covered in various news reports, so Gabe could read it for himself. None of them mentioned Harper by name, of course, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Jake and Chelsea had only had one child. Molly only had one niece.
Molly wished she could dig Jake up, bring him back to life, and kill him again. Sometimes the fantasy was the only thing that kept her going, especially when Harper cried in the night.
“So you killed him.” Gabe’s mouth tightened. “Good.”
“Not in cold blood. It was ruled self-defense.”
She almost believed that herself.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
“My sister confronted him, and he came after her. Was beating her. When he saw me, he started hitting me.” Because she’d goaded him into it. Had relished the sharp pain of his fist as it had hit her eye, knowing she’d have a shiner. All the better to support a claim of self-defense.
She hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t known Chelsea would confront him that night. Although she should have known.
I should have known.
And maybe she had. The uncertainty behind her motivation and her preparation had kept her up a lot of nights.
Gabe simply shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
She managed a smile. “Thank you. So, after the dust settled and my name was cleared, I knew we couldn’t stay there. Not in that house.”
“I don’t guess you could have.”
There was sympathy in his voice. Sympathy and a grim understanding. Which was why she’d told him herself.
“I was reinstated on the SBI—that’s the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation—but I couldn’t go back. I just couldn’t.” She’d known there were corrupt cops, of course, but she hadn’t worked with any. Not that she’d known of. But then Jake destroyed all of their lives, and she’d seen corruption up close and personal. Jake was a cop himself, and his friends had rallied around him, protecting him, painting her father as a pedophile. They’d been vile. They’d closed ranks.
But, after putting Jake down like the dog he’d been, she couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t a little corrupt, too.
“So you came here?”
