Stone Cold Fox (79)

“Let. Me. Finish,” she hissed. Another shift in tone. “My real name is Jane Wink. When I aged out of the system, I changed it. I didn’t want to be associated with those grisly headlines anymore. It didn’t exactly do me any favors with finding a family to care for me.”

“Give me a break, Syl. I’m very conf—”

“Our dad—”

“Your dad.” I cut her off. I’d had enough. Even if what she was saying were true, I had to move on. Curiosity could remain, but I wouldn’t indulge. It wouldn’t lead to anything good. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions, Syl.”

“Our dad is Giles Wink,” she said forcefully, starting to lose her composure, crumbling. I immediately went to my phone to search for the name as she continued speaking, corroborating everything available in the public domain. Giles Wink was fifty-seven years old. The appropriate age. He was convicted on the double murder charge after a house fire that was deemed arson. The home was in Westchester. Jane and Giles were spared from the flames. The prosecution said that was intentional. Evidence was found that Giles’s wife, Georgina Wink, was having an extramarital affair, leading to the conclusion that Giles had killed her and her unborn child in the ultimate revenge.

It was very macabre and very messy.

Kind of like Mother.

“I thought you could meet him,” Syl added, back to her softer self. But I wouldn’t be fooled.

“Absolutely not,” I said.

“But you’ll like him. I know you will.”

“I don’t care, Syl. I’m not going to meet your father. I’m not getting involved. This has nothing to do with me.”

“Dad wanted to name you Charlotte,” Syl said, nostalgia dripping from her voice. She held my hand again, but I wouldn’t be manipulated by her attempts to tug at my nonexistent heartstrings. Good luck, babe.

“You’ve got the wrong woman,” I said, yanking my hand away from hers.

“I remember her, Bea.”

“Oh! What do you remember?” I challenged her, without admitting a thing. Because nobody knew Mother but me.

“Not a lot. I was only four when she left. But I remember that she was very beautiful. Like you. She had long fingers, and once in a while she would run them through my hair when she thought I was sleeping.”

I shook my head at her, despite the horrified feeling inside that she could really be telling the truth. “I’m from North Carolina. My parents were Bob and Alice. Are you looking for money? You get this job with Collin, mess with his wife, collect a paycheck based on some bunk theory because you know the Cases will just pay up to avoid bad press. Well, forget it, Syl. I’m not giving you anything. None of us will.”

“Hey! Bea. I’m still me. I’m safe. You’re safe with me. Do you need to hear that? You’re safe. I know she could be really scary and say things that—”

Safe? What did she know about safety? And how hard I had worked to finally gain some of my own. What I had done to get there! How dare she talk to me about being safe! I wanted to scream at her to shut the fuck up, but that’s not what Bea Case would do. Bea had to be cool at all times.

“That’s enough now, Syl,” I scolded her in the mildest of manners, channeling my own mother-in-law, my inspiration for the moment. Stern but serene, your message fully received.

“Bea, I don’t want money,” Syl said, her head shaking back and forth again. She was losing her nerve. Good.

“Then what do you want?”

“I just want my dad back,” she cried.

“Of course you do. And I’m sorry, but it sounds like a lost cause based on his crimes. He’s not my father. You’re not my sister. And we definitely don’t share a mother, Syl. My mother is dead.”

Bea Case had spoken and it was unkind and I knew it, but there was no other option. Syl looked at me for a hint of remorse or genuine care for her, but she would find none. She was playing a dangerous game and I wanted no part of it, no matter how much I liked her.

Look at where female friendship got me.

I knew better. I had always known better. So why had I let her in? It was so foolish. Potentially fatal if I didn’t play my cards right moving forward. The only family ties I desired were the ones I had finagled myself. Full control. Trust no one. This was the last thing I needed. And if Syl was my mother’s daughter, that was reason enough to stay away from her and for good.

“All right. If that’s how you feel, maybe you would still take a DNA test? To make sure? As a friend, it would mean a lot to me,” Syl added.

“Syl.” I shook my head. She was unbelievable.

“It could free my father, Bea. We could keep it confidential, I’ve talked to a lawyer, you wouldn’t—”

“I am not taking a DNA test, Syl. You’re mistaken. I am Mrs. Collin Case. I’m not Charlotte Wink.” I laughed, standing up from the table to look down at her with a gaze so cruel, my eyelids low, reeking with disdain, that there would be no mistaking we were finished with each other. I had to sell it. “And if I were you, I’d start looking for a new job.”

“Just. Sit—sit down,” she said, stammering, but trying once again to build back up to that “femme fatale in a dark bar” persona she thought she so expertly executed. “You’re really not going to help me?” She looked flabbergasted and completely betrayed. I guess we both had each other fooled when it came to our friendship.