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“I’m confused,” she forced herself to say in mocking tones. If Jolene had time to think, she might realize that the longer this encounter went on, the more chance there was of her being caught. “You came here to murder your husband and you brought along your daughter?”
“It’s not the first time she brought me to a murder,” the younger woman drawled.
“Sunny, hush,” Jolene snapped.
Lia turned her head to study the teenager. She was wearing a heavy coat with a knit scarf wrapped around her neck, but there was a dark flush staining her cheeks. Was she cold? Or excited by the sight of her father’s dead body? Maybe both.
“It’s true.” Sunny ignored her mother, flashing a smug smile in Lia’s direction. “Not that I recall much. I was only three. But I have a vivid memory of seeing my mother’s body curled under the frozen bush.”
Lia gasped, her stomach clenching into a painful knot as she realized the extent of the perverted relationship between the two women. Jolene had not only invited her daughter to witness the murder of her father, she’d brought her to this place when she was just a baby to watch her mother being killed.
What sort of psychopath did that?
Jolene made a sound of annoyance. “She wasn’t your mother.”
“No,” Sunny hastily agreed, as if anxious to avoid provoking Jolene’s temper. Lia didn’t blame her. “You have always been my true mom.”
“That’s just . . .” Lia shuddered. “Sick.”
Sunny hissed in outrage. “Shut up, bitch.”
“Sunny!” Jolene called out, her gaze on the gun clenched in Lia’s fingers. “Be careful.”
With an effort, Lia bit back her words of disgust. She wanted them distracted, not angry.
“It makes sense to kill your husband.” Reluctantly, Lia forced herself to glance toward the dead body just a few feet away. Bile rose in her throat, but she managed to maintain her composure as she returned her attention to Jolene. “Why run over Drew?”
Jolene shook her head. “I didn’t.”
“I did,” Sunny announced in proud tones, shrugging as her mother clicked her tongue in warning. “We’re going to kill her, aren’t we? Who cares if she knows the truth?”
Lia hissed in shock. “You ran over Drew?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
Sunny tossed her dark curls, her expression defiant. “He came to our house a few hours after he found the skeleton. I assumed he was there to brag. That was the only thing he was good at. Well, that and ramming his head into players on the football field, I suppose.”
Lia ignored the girl’s disgusting lack of guilt for nearly killing Drew. She was more interested in why he would go to Sunny’s house. It wasn’t like the two of them were friends.
“He wasn’t there to brag?”
“He did that.” Sunny curled her lips in disgust. “But he found something on the skeleton.”
“What was it?”
“A leather satchel that held a picture of me.” The pale blue eyes shimmered with sudden anger. Unlike Jolene, this girl was filled with fire, not ice. Lia, however, didn’t doubt she was equally dangerous. “Along with my official birth certificate, signed by Tate Erickson and Vanna Zimmerman.”
“He knew Jolene wasn’t your mother,” Lia breathed.
“I am her mother,” Jolene reprimanded her in frigid tones.
Lia ignored her. “What did Drew want?”
“Money, of course.” Sunny lifted her hand to stifle an exaggerated yawn. “So predictable.”
Lia grimaced. She had no difficulty imagining Drew Hurst searching the skeleton for valuables. Or using what he’d discovered to try to make some extra cash. He obviously didn’t have a clue he was dealing with a family of liars, psychopaths, and cold-blooded killers.
