From Ashes (From Ashes #1)(77)



My breath came out ragged as he finished; why hadn’t he mentioned that it had been because of Gage? Tyler wanted us apart so much, you’d think he’d have just been dying to make it seem worse than it was and say I was in an abusive relationship.

“And as for her mom and Jeff? She hasn’t talked to them, and doesn’t talk about them. That girl in there has had a shit life, and that shit life was just thrown back at her after two years of trying to forget about it. I get you’re detectives and this is what you do, but taking care of her is what I do. So if you want to interrogate someone, interrogate me. Not her. Please, not her.” He had started off with an authoritative voice I’d expected the detectives to put an end to immediately, but when he finished, Tyler’s voice was so tortured, it nearly broke my heart.

“Are you done, son?” Sanders asked after another moment.

“Yeah.”

“Then sit down and tell me, do you or your parents know of anyone who would want to harm Mr. Jeff Kross and his wife?”

“No, like Cassi, I haven’t seen or spoken to them . . .”

His voice trailed away to nothing as I went to the living room to lie down on the couch. I should have joined his parents, but at this point, I was so drained I didn’t think I could even attempt to hold another conversation. I knew they were itching to find out what happened to my eye, but it would have to wait.

IN THE LAST week, I’d had two more visits from Detectives Sanders and Green within two days of the first: the first to confirm the fire was indeed an accident caused by a candle near the bar—that visit included an apology for the pseudo-interrogation—the second to let me know they wouldn’t be bothering me anymore. After examining dental records, the bodies found in the house were of one Jeff Kross and one Karen Jameson Kross. Both times I tried not to study Green, but each time I saw him I’d swear I knew him. We’d had a graveside funeral on Friday and Tyler had gone back to Texas on Sunday, three days ago, since he had finals that week. I still hadn’t spoken to Gage, but I couldn’t force myself to do it yet.

I had too much going through my mind still: my life with Mom and Jeff, the fierce look in Gage’s eye when he turned around to swing again, and most of all the way he looked like he was dying inside every time he looked at me after he’d hit me. Then I’d left him with a note that could have meant any number of things, and I’m sure that had only made it worse. I knew I couldn’t have our first conversation over the phone; it needed to be in person. I just wasn’t ready for that yet. If I was honest with myself, I was terrified that what had happened last Friday night would change how we were permanently. I didn’t want him to treat me any differently, and I was afraid he’d treat me like I was breakable now.

“Miss Jameson? You can go back now.”

Glancing up at the receptionist of my mom’s attorney, I gave her a small smile and walked down the hall to the open door.

A lanky older gentleman stood up and grasped my hand from across his large desk. “Miss Jameson, thank you so much for coming in. I’m sorry that we’re meeting under these circumstances though.”

I simply nodded and offered him the same smile I’d just given his pixie of a receptionist.

“Well, this will be fairly quick, since you’re the only living person mentioned in your mother’s will.”

That surprised me, but I didn’t let it show. I figured she’d leave me out of it and give everything to Jeff, or hell, even her liquor. She was a bitch like that; it wouldn’t have shocked me.

“Though he is not here, we will begin with the only other person mentioned: ‘To Mr. Jeff Kross, I leave my car, home, and everything inside them. To Miss Cassidy Jameson, I leave the money in the following accounts.’ ” Mr. Buckner produced a few pieces of paper stating the bank accounts, not that they meant anything; they were just routing and account numbers. “And she also left this letter for you. Your mother came in about six months ago, Miss Jameson, to change her will and leave that letter. I was surprised, seeing as she hadn’t changed her will even after your father passed, but I don’t think she was expecting you to have to be sitting on the other side of my desk so soon. Your mother and father were good people, Miss Jameson; I’m very sorry for the losses you’ve had over the years.”

I took the lumpy envelope from him. “Me too,” I whispered, unable to force anything louder. I was still in shock that Mom had waited that long to change her will, and then died so suddenly after.

“If you’ll give me just a few minutes, we’ll get everything squared away here so you won’t have to go in to the bank to change everything over, and then we’ll be done. I’ve already called and they’re expecting my call again.”

“Thank you, Mr. Buckner.”

After another twenty minutes and both of us speaking with a manager at the bank, he handed me a few pieces of paper that were faxed over from the bank, giving me the number of the new savings account I’d had everything put into and pages about how best to handle money. I folded them all up and put them in my purse along with the letter, shook Mr. Buckner’s hand, and went to Tyler’s mom’s car, which she was letting me borrow. I drove until I found my favorite coffee shop and pulled into the parking lot. Without shutting off the car, I reached into my purse, opened the folded-up papers, and finally looked at the amount that had been deposited into the savings account. My mouth dropped open and a loud gasp filled the car. What. The. Hell?

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