The Final Gambit (The Inheritance Games #3)(17)

I hadn’t kept track of what happened to her after the DA had dropped the murder and attempted murder charges, but on some level, I had expected to find her in either dire straits or the utter lap of luxury—not suburbia.

We rang the doorbell, and Skye answered the door wearing a loose aquamarine dress and sunglasses. “Well, this is a surprise.” She looked at the boys over her sunglasses. “Then again, I drew a change card this morning. The Wheel of Fortune, followed by the Eight of Cups, inverted.”

She sighed. “And my horoscope did say something about forgiveness.”

The muscles in Grayson’s jaw tensed. “We’re not here to forgive you.”

“Forgive me? Gray, darling, why would I need anyone’s forgiveness?”

This, from the woman whose charges had been dropped only because they had arrested her for the wrong attempt on my life. “After all,” Skye continued, retreating into the house and graciously allowing us to follow, “I didn’t throw you out onto the streets, now did I?”

Grayson had forced Skye to leave Hawthorne House—for me. “I made sure you had a place to go,” he said stiffly.

“I didn’t let you rot away in prison,” Skye continued dramatically. “I didn’t force you to grovel to friends for decent legal counsel. Really! Don’t you boys talk to me about forgiveness. I’m not the one who abandoned you.”

Nash raised an eyebrow. “Debatable, don’t you think?”

“Nash.” Skye made a tsk ing sound. “Aren’t you a bit old to be holding on to childish grudges? You of all people should understand: I wasn’t made to be stationary. A woman like me can absolutely die of inertness. Is it really so hard to understand that your mother is also a person?”

She could shred them without even trying. Even Nash, who’d had years to get over Skye’s lack of motherly impulses, wasn’t immune.

“You’re wearing a ring.” Jameson cut in with a shrewd observation.

Skye offered him a coy smile. “This little thing?” she said, brandishing what had to be a three-carat diamond on her left ring finger. “I would have invited you boys to the wedding, but it was a small courthouse affair. You know how I detest spectacle, and given how Archie and I met, a courthouse wedding seemed appropriate.”

Skye Hawthorne lived for spectacle.

“‘A courthouse wedding seemed appropriate’,” Grayson repeated, digesting her meaning and narrowing his eyes. “You married your defense attorney?”

Skye gave an elegant little shrug. “Archie’s children and grandchildren are always after him to retire, but my darling husband will be practicing criminal defense until he dies of old age.” In other words: Yes, she’d married her lawyer, and yes, he was significantly older than she was—and quite possibly not long for this world. “Now, if you’re not here to beg for my forgiveness…” Skye eyed each of her three sons in turn. “Then why are you here?”

“A package was delivered to Hawthorne House today,” Jameson said.

Skye poured herself a glass of sparkling wine. “Oh?”

Jameson withdrew the disk from his pocket. “You wouldn’t happen to know what this is, would you?”

For a split second, Skye Hawthorne froze. Her pupils dilated. “Where did you get that?” she asked, moving to take it from him, but like a magician, Jameson made the “coin” disappear.

Skye recognized it. I could see the hunger in her eyes.

“Tell us what that is,” Grayson ordered.

Skye looked at him. “Always so serious,” she murmured, reaching out to touch his cheek. “And the shadows in those eyes…”

“Skye.” Jameson drew her attention away from Grayson. “Please.”

“Manners, Jamie? From you?” Skye dropped her hand. “Color me shocked, but even so, there’s not much I can tell you. I’ve never seen that before in my life.”

I listened closely to her words. She’d never seen it. “But you know what it is,” I said.

For a moment, Skye let her eyes meet mine, like we were two players shaking hands before a match.

“Sure would be a shame if someone got to your husband,” Nash piped up. “Warned him about a few things.”

“Archie won’t believe a word you say,” Skye responded. “He’s already defended me against bogus charges once.”

“I’d wager I know a thing or two he’d find interesting.” Nash leaned back against a wall, waiting.

Skye looked back to Grayson. Of all of them, she still had the tightest hold on him. “I don’t know much,” she hedged. “I know that coin belonged to my father. I know that the great Tobias Hawthorne cross-examined me for hours when it went missing, describing it again and again. But I wasn’t the one who took it.”

“Toby was.” I said what we were all thinking.

“My little Toby was so angry that summer.” Skye’s eyes closed, and for a moment, she didn’t seem dangerous or manipulative or even coy. “I never really knew why.”

The adoption. The secrecy. The lies.

“Ultimately, my darling little brother ran off and took that as a parting gift. Based on our father’s reaction, Toby chose his revenge very well. To get that kind of response out of someone with my father’s means?” Skye opened her eyes again. “It must be very precious.”