Authors: Victoria Howard
‘
Great speech,
’
Catherine said,
and flopped down on the bed
,
‘
pity I don’t believe the bit about Jack.
Use your imagination
for once,
and think of the life you could have
with all that cash
. I’m telling you, Grac
i
e, if I was in your position, I’d take the money and run.
’
Weariness swamped Grace. Her shoulders sagged.
‘
If I keep the money it makes me a thief, just like Daniel
. I won’t stoop to his standards.
’
‘
You always have to do the right thing, don’t you? God
,
you must have driven Daniel mad. No wonder he lost control of
his
car and slammed into a tree
.
’
Grace balled her fists, fighting the urge to
shake
her sister.
‘
How
—how
dare you
! Daniel and I
loved each other. We
had a good marriage.
’
‘
Really?
Then
why did he need a mistress?
Daniel was too good for you
, Grace
. He was dynamic.
He
should have married someone more outgoing
, someone—
’
‘
More like you?
’
Heat
suffused
Catherine’s
cheeks. She paused to catch her breath. She had to stay calm.
‘
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.
’
‘
No
,
you shouldn’t have!
’
‘
I said I’m sorry. Forgive me, please?
’
Grace ran a hand through her hair.
‘
Why did you come here, Cat?
’
‘
I was concerned. I thought you
might
welcome
my
support
.
’
Catherine stood and wrapped her arms around her sister.
Grace shoved her away.
‘
I needed your support the day Daniel died
, not three weeks
after
I buried him
.
And especially not after you’ve spewed all that bile!
’
‘
I
already
told you,
I’m sorry I said that stuff. I’m sorry
I didn’t get your message.
I’m even sorry m
y phone was stolen
.
’
‘
You really expect me to believe that when
you’re
so dependent on a cell phone?
You of all people would have had a replacement within hours.
’
Baffled, Catherine stared at Grace.
She’d changed. In the past Grace had done everything to avoid confrontation, but here she was fighting back.
‘
What is
this
, an inquisition?
’
‘
Daniel’s been dead
for
nearly a month. You’ve accounted for two weeks
. W
hat were you doing the rest of the time?
’
‘
Sorry, big sister.
I don’t have to
report to you anymore
.
’
‘
I gue
ss not. Y
ou
have unconsc
ionable gall coming to my house—
yes, that’s right: my ho
use—
and speaking to me like this. And you
better have some answers ready for Jack, because I guarantee he’
ll
check everything you
’ve said
is true.
’
‘
I c
a
me here to help you and you treat me as if—
’
‘
I’m treating you as if you’re cruel and selfish
,
and as if your sister means nothing to you. I
’m
also
trying to understand why
it wasn’t important to you to return my calls
.
’
Catherine drew a long breath and yawned.
‘
Look,
we’ve both said things we d
on’t mean tonight. You’re tired.
I’m tired
. Let’s let bygones
be bygones and stop fighting like children
. Then we can
catch up properly in the morning
like t
w
o long lost sisters should. All right
?
’
Grace
paused at the door.
‘
What
name
did
Olivia and Tom
give
their baby?
’
Catherine’s mind spun.
‘
Well. I…
I never thought to ask.
’
‘
You didn’t think to ask?
’
‘
Oh come on, Grac
i
e. Give it a rest. W
e only spoke for a few moments
, just long enough for her to tell me you were here.
’
Grace scowled at her. Maybe it was the light. Maybe it was the time. Maybe it was Florida and Jack and Daniel’s death and the house
and
all the things she never wanted conspiring against her thought processes. Catherine was a stranger to her tonight. Maybe she’d always been a stranger. Grace regarded her for a long moment, looking for bits of the freckled little girl she’d nearly raised, the college student she’d supported, the eager young career woman she’d cheered on. Nothing of them remained in the flinty gaze that met her own.
‘
Never mind,
’
she said sternly.
‘
I’ll call Olivia myself. I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say. Goodnight.
’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Bill Kennedy
squeezed his barrel-chested,
six-foot
frame into
an empty booth at the back of the all night diner and ordered a
black coffee
. The
bored looking
redhead
who waited on him was clearly
count
ing
the minutes until her shift ended
so
sh
e could close up for the night.
The place wasn’t to his liking. Whoever owned it was a cheapskate. Half-burned out fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Tears in the old red plastic seats
, t
ables partially cleaned
, it was c
learly a
hangout for truckers and a few tourists desperate to use the bathroom
. O
nly one other booth was occupied
. A
couple of truckers sat drinking coffee,
presumably
before spending the night in their rigs in a
dark
corner of the parking lot.
The glass door opened and a short, stocky man
in a
trench coat
,
limp
ed
inside and
down the aisle
to
the
booth at the rear of the diner. He
wiped the seat with
a paper napkin from the dispenser on the table
before sliding
into the booth opposite
Kennedy
. He
grimaced
when his left knee struck the table leg,
and shifted
into a more comfortable position
.
Kennedy
gestured at the coat
.
‘
Kind of warm for these parts, isn’t it?
’
‘
I can’t get used to your weather,
’
the little man coughed.
‘
I don’t know how you stomach it.
’
Kennedy nodded.
‘
Doesn’t matter.
You made good time
.
’
In the background the two truckers argued over
the quickest route to Miami
, the I
-
75 or the Tamiami trail.
‘
You said it was urgent
.
’