Not One of Us(50)

Dana and Deacon? It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t.

“Liar,” I said through clenched teeth, suppressing the urge to clamp my hands over my ears. None of this was true. Dana was only trying to hurt me.

“You were such a damn goody-goody. No one could possibly live up to your expectations. And look at you now.” Her hot gaze swept over me in blazing scorn. “I bet you’re single because you’ve romanticized Deacon as this perfect guy and no other man compares to him. Why would they even try?”

That zing hit home like a punch in the gut. Because maybe there was at least a small kernel of truth in her accusations. Is that why I never formed long-lasting relationships? Was I subconsciously comparing them to what I had with Deacon? It very well could be, and the truth left me breathless. But even if it were true, who needed a frenemy like Dana? I was over her.

I lifted my chin, walked to the front door, and held it open. “Don’t ever come back,” I said with as much dignity and calmness as I could muster.

She dug in her heels and opened her mouth to say more.

“Get out!” Zach said, rushing into the room. He tugged at Dana’s arm. “Get out. Go home.”

I laughed shakily and teared up at the unexpected sibling loyalty. “You heard my brother. Get out. Unless you want me to call the cops.”

Dana’s lips compressed into an angry white line, but she headed to the door. What else could she do?

“Don’t expect any more help from me,” she said with a hiss, stepping over the threshold.

“We don’t need your help.” I slammed the door shut and then leaned against it as adrenaline ebbed out of my body.

“What’s all this racket?”

Mimi walked down the hallway, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Was that Dana you were arguing with?”

“Yeah. She’s gone.”

“Gone,” Zach repeated with a happy grin.

Mimi pulled her robe closer and gave a disdainful sniff. “Never did like that girl.”





Chapter 20


JORI


Grace Lee Fairhope was dead.

Tegan’s unexpected phone call announcing the news came on top of the already upsetting news about the discovery of Deacon’s bones and the argument with Dana. I shut off my phone, and a bone-chilling numbness settled over me. Tegan had insisted the death had been ruled an accidental drug overdose, but I couldn’t shake the suspicion that an unknown menace was stalking my every move, destroying anyone I knew.

Had I driven Grace over some kind of mental ledge by reminding her of the baby she’d given up long ago? It was possible I’d stirred her curiosity about Jackson, and she’d discovered his murder.

“Bad news?” Mimi asked as soon as I hung up the phone, her eyes as sharp as ever.

“Deputy Blackwell called to tell me Grace Lee Fairhope died from a drug overdose last night.” I watched Mimi closely for a sign of recognition at the name.

Her forehead scrunched. “Never heard of her.”

“She’s—she was—Jackson’s biological mother.”

“Jackson!” The sharp eyes narrowed on me accusingly. “Why are the cops calling you about that woman? She’s no relation to the family.”

Zach picked up on the anger in Mimi’s voice. He turned away from the television, his gaze sliding back and forth between us, assessing the sudden tension in the air.

“I was curious about Jackson’s parentage, so I went to talk with Grace.”

Mimi scowled and raked her eyes over me. “So where’s your badge? Since when did you become a detective?”

I couldn’t explain my obsession to solve Deacon’s murder since I didn’t understand it myself. I shrugged. “I didn’t see how it could do any harm.”

“And now she’s dead.”

Mimi’s words echoed my own misgivings and hit like an accusation. “It’s not my fault,” I protested defensively, trying to convince myself.

Mimi scraped a trembling hand across her face, then regarded me wearily. “When did you talk to her? Was it before you got that threatening note?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I went to Mobile.”

“And everyone knows everyone else’s business here in the bayou. Let this be a lesson to mind your own business.”

Zach piped up his familiar refrain. “Mimi knows.”

She smiled and patted his shoulder. “You tell her, Zach. Jori should listen to her old grandmother.”

But I couldn’t let it go.

The ripples of that fateful night Deacon disappeared had again been stirred, and they were as far reaching and devastating as ever. I’d always believed he’d been murdered. I felt trapped in the middle of a mystery that would forever consume me until I had the truth.

I strolled to my room and tried to think of another avenue to explore. My family was no help. Mimi refused to discuss Jackson. Aunt Tressie was lost in la-la land, remembering only the sweet boy Jackson had been before hitting his teenage years. And Uncle Buddy would only shake his head sadly whenever Jackson’s name was mentioned. “Poor kid,” he’d say, then immediately change the subject.

I did have another uncle—or at least he used to be when we were related by marriage. Aunt Tressie’s ex-husband, Ardy Ensley. I had no memory of him, just old faded photographs of a man in the background of Jackson’s numerous birthday pictures and other snapshots. No one ever brought up his name. I only knew it by point-blank asking Mimi the name of Aunt Tressie’s ex. Mimi only ever referred to him as “that son of a bitch who skipped town.” The only other piece of information I’d gleaned was when she’d once added, “Too bad Ardy isn’t another hundred miles away from Enigma. Gulfport is too close.”