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“What were you told about your parents’ deaths?” I ask her gently.
“That their car slipped on black ice and went over the cliff on a road outside Aspen.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, nothing else to know except for it being an unlucky freak accident.”
“There was no ice on the road that day.” I reach back behind the couch and pull a folder out of my backpack with photos from the accident, minus any with her parents or their blood. “There were also no skid marks on the road to indicate quick braking.”
“When I saw these photos.” I set them on the coffee table for whoever. “I felt like something was fishy, so I poked a little deeper. No one checked the brake lines on your parents’ rental, but I had a theory, one I desperately wanted to be wrong about.”
Her lips start to tremble, and I find myself unable to look at her for this next part.
“We have a few contacts who regularly do this kind of job. Making things look like an accident when, really, they aren’t. There is one in particular who specializes in car accidents.”
“I’m sorry.” She holds a hand up. “Wait. Are you trying to tell me that my parents were murdered in some sort of hit?”
“Yes.”
Her response is so wildly out of character I jump. She starts laughing, looking at us trying to figure out how we could be so wrong. “Who would want to murder my parents? There’s no way. It makes no sense.”
“How much money did they leave you?”
Her laughter dies. “A few million plus the residual income from the tools my dad invented.”
“Who has complete control over that money?” I ask.
“Tripp.” We watch as multiple emotions flash through her eyes. “He’s a terrible husband, but he wouldn’t do that. He’s no killer.”
“Unfortunately, Livvy, he is.” Wiping a hand over my face, I wish I didn’t have to tell her this. “That’s the news I found out a few days ago and had confirmed late last night. Tripp hired someone to kill your parents and make it look like an accident.”
Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. Tears fill her eyes, and she tries so hard to blink them away, but as soon as one escapes, it’s all over. They start pouring from her eyes, and it’s all I can do to continue.
“My source is very reliable.” In fact, my source is the actual sonofabitch who cut the brake line. He’ll be dying very soon, either by my hands or Lake’s, he can be sure of that. I’m going to make it slow, too. Painful and slow. “The brake line on the rental was cut.” I leave out the part that her mom was still alive so he had to break her neck to finish her off. Tripp was very clear that they both had to die in order for him to get paid.
Suddenly Livvy stands and bolts for the door. She’s not wearing a coat, shoes, or any winter gear so she can’t go far, but Lake is up and following her already.
“Who was it?” Grant asks, keeping his voice low.
“Davis.”
“Are we taking turns?”
“We can if you want.”
“Same with Tripp,” Sawyer adds. “We’re all getting a piece of him.”
14
OLIVIA
The brake lineon the rental was cut.
Nolan’s last sentence is like a siren screaming on repeat in my head. Thoughts are swirling inside my brain so much faster than I thought possible. The loudest and most obvious, though, is that I killed my parents.
The minute I saw Tripp and fell for his stupid, fake charm was the minute their death warrants were signed. I don’t feel the cold air stinging my exposed skin or feel the icy and snowy ground under my bare feet. I don’t feel anything except the slow disintegration of the last remaining untouched part of my soul.
My heart feels like it’s beating a thousand miles per hour, but how can that be when it shattered at my feet minutes ago? I can’t hear anything over the roaring sound of the blood in my ears. My eyes sting with tears, but they’re not tears of sorrow, they are tears of rage.
