Page 51 of The Last Invitation


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Jessa didn’t need a minute to think about it. “Actually, yes.”

The detective leaned against the back of the chair across from Jessa. “I’m sure you understand that it takes time to investigate allegations.”

“Not the ones against me, apparently. You ran with those. Right to the press, I assume?”

“I didn’t arrest you.”

“My name is all over the news. I’ve been sidelined at work.” But now Covington’s call made sense. The jackass. She could hardly wait to hear the verbal gymnastics he’d use to cover his butt and blame everyone else. “Darren turned my life upside down and you assisted him.”

“He’s in jail.”

“What?” The wineglass tipped but Jessa righted it before spilling red wine all over the beige couch.

“When he blocked his wife’s car in the driveaway, he violated the protective order she obtained when they first separated. Then, when he hit her car, he invited other charges—assault, attempted kidnapping.”

Jessa really wanted to call Stan and ask how Darren was doing in prison. Hearing that blowhard lawyer stammer would be worth it. “I thought Darren’s daddy would make the bad stuff go away. He hates negative press.”

“There’s something out there stronger than the Bartholomew family.” The detective smiled. “Justice.”

That sounded ridiculous. The good detective’s reasoning was also wrong. Jessa knew the real answer. The one thing that could beat the powerful Bartholomews didn’t have anything to do with a courtroom or a jail. It was Retta Swain and the Sophie Foundation.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Gabby

Gabby stared at the headline. In less than a week, Jessa had gone from an incompetent, ethical black hole—a pariah—to a hero. A guardian ad litem fighting for children everywhere, regardless of the wounds to her ego and reputation.

Total nonsense. The Jessa she knew would have sacrificed a child for a better class rank in law school. The hero bullshit... well, it made Gabby think about Rob and his fiancée Tami and all they’d lost. They tracked down the impossible—a group that didn’t exist.

Rob had predicted Jessa might go from being nearly ruined to overly praised. Gabby wondered what else he’d gotten right. If she’d quickly agreed Baines’s death was a suicide, would that have stopped her from being attacked?

“You’re glaring at the laptop screen.”

Gabby jumped at the sound of Liam’s voice. She hid a wince of pain from her still-healing ribs. He’d barely said a word to her in days, so she welcomed even this small greeting. “Sorry. Just reading about a woman I once knew.”

“That sounds mysterious.” He filled his coffee mug then walked over to the kitchen table where she sat.

She appreciated his effort at normalcy, at mindless conversation, but the strain between them destroyed her. She’d stayed up most of the last two nights, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling of his guest bedroom as she tried to think of a way to bridge the divide she’d accidentally slammed down between them.

“I talked with the school. Convinced them Kennedy was struggling due to her dad... Baines’s death. She’s attending classes via video.” He took a long sip of coffee before continuing, “I guess that’s the benefit of a shockingly expensive boarding school.”

He’d handled a responsibility she’d missed. Through all the unburdening and anger, secret sharing, and careful conversations, she’d failed to do simple mother things. “Thank you for taking care of it.”

“Kennedy was under the mistaken impression she could come home, be pissed at you, pout, and watch videos and movies all day.” Liam sounded very much like a father in that moment.

“Like any smart teen would.” Gabby couldn’t fault her daughter for having kid priorities. “In my guilt-ridden state, I might have let her.”

Liam stood there, frozen. He stared into his mug and didn’t say anything. A few seconds passed before he made a sound that came out like “well” and started walking out of the kitchen again.

She needed him to stay. Wanted him to. “Liam...”

He shook his head. “Not yet, Gabby. The only words I have are profane and terrible. I fear if I say them, I’ll never be able to call them back.”

Old habits like completing each other’s thoughts and diving into a conversation midthought remained. She hadn’t had to explain the hesitance in her voice because he knew. “I want you to be a part of her life.”

“I already am, and I intend to continue to be.” The firmness of his voice suggested he’d made some decisions even though he hadn’t filled her in yet. “With or without your approval.”

“Right.”

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