Livia Lone (Livia Lone #1)(85)

But the woman only nodded grimly. “Good,” she said, and her tone was as cold as the frozen grass over Fred Lone’s grave. Then she added in a whisper, “I hope you made him suffer.”

Livia said nothing.

MacKinnon blinked, then straightened. She took a sip of tea, then returned the cup to the saucer. “For what it’s worth, if I could go back, I would have said something. But in college, I was just overwhelmed to finally be free of them all. I didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize that. And then I met Bill, my future husband. He didn’t know about any of it. And I didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want any connection between what they had done to me and the life I was trying to build. And then we had children, and I couldn’t bear to put them through all that. And Ezra . . . he always told me he would kill me if I ever told. And I believed him. I still believe him. You know what he did when our first child, David, was born?”

Livia looked at her and again said nothing.

“He sent me a baby outfit and a card, congratulating me on the birth of his nephew. And telling me David reminded him of Ophelia. No one else would know what that meant. But I did.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Then MacKinnon said, “Do you see? I hadn’t been in touch with Ezra since leaving Llewellyn. I never told any of them I was getting married. Or taking my husband’s name. Or moving to San Francisco. Or my home address. I did everything I could to keep all that hidden. Ezra was telling me none of my efforts mattered. He was watching. He could get to me. And he could get to my children.”

She took another sip of tea. “So. I am sorry. Truly sorry. For what you and your sister have gone through. And if there’s a way I can . . . redress that, I hope I’ll have that chance. But in the meantime, I hope you’ll at least understand. I’ve had my reasons.”

Livia nodded. “I do understand.”

MacKinnon looked at her, her face carefully set. “Thank you.”

There was a long pause. Then Livia said, “But if you’re serious about redress, I have an idea about how.”





57—NOW

When Livia was done laying it out, MacKinnon was almost there. But she wasn’t quite persuaded.

“Why do you need him to come out here?” she said. “Couldn’t you just march into his office and flash your badge the way you did me? And leave me out of it entirely?”

“I don’t think your brother would tell me what I need to know in his office. He’d be in a familiar, comfortable environment, surrounded by all the trappings of his power. I want to confront him someplace unfamiliar. Where he doesn’t know the terrain. Where he’ll be off balance.”

A long moment went by while MacKinnon considered this. Finally, she said, “All right. We’ll look up his office number. And I’ll . . . I’ll call him. But let me do it from your phone. I don’t want him to know my number.”

Livia shook her head. She understood the woman knew better, and at this point was just protesting as a way of proving to herself that she was in control of at least some of what was suddenly happening to her, no matter how trivial.

“That won’t work. It would be too easy for him to check my number, and figure out something’s wrong with your story. Besides, if he’s sent you baby gifts, he already knows your number. Or could easily get it.”

There was a pause while MacKinnon considered this. Then she said, “I just need a minute.”

“Of course,” Livia said. This woman was about to face a monster from her childhood. A minute would be the least she’d need.

MacKinnon stepped away. Livia heard a door open, then close. She had a feeling the woman needed to be with the dog. It didn’t surprise her. One of the victim support services she worked with had a rescue dog, a shepherd-mastiff mix named Argus, and Livia had never seen an abused child emerge from a scarred shell the way some of the support kids did when they spent time with that devoted animal. Livia thought it had something to do with recognizing the existence of a creature at once powerful and yet incapable of hurting you—incapable of doing anything other than loving and protecting you. She sensed that kind of bond between MacKinnon and the shepherd.

And indeed, when she returned a few minutes later, the dog was with her. It sat alongside her at the table while she did an Internet search on her phone.

“Okay,” MacKinnon said, nodding. “Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath and blew it out, summoning her courage like someone about to leap from a cliff into dark waters.

She input the number. There was a pause, then she said, “Yes, hello. My name is Rebecca MacKinnon, formerly Becky Lone. Senator Lone’s sister. It’s urgent that I speak with him.”

Livia was impressed by the confidence in her tone. The woman had found her composure, at least for the moment.

There was a pause, then, “I don’t have his mobile phone number. We haven’t been in touch in quite some time. But it’s urgent that I speak with him now.”

Another pause, then, “Yes, please give him this number. If you’re thinking this is some sort of prank, it isn’t. When you tell him it’s Becky and that it’s urgent, I assure you he’ll want to call me immediately. If you wait to deliver the message, you’ll be making a mistake.”

She clicked off.

Livia looked at her. “You okay?”