Good Girls Lie(58)

“Then I’m afraid, as her guardian, I will have to call our lawyers. Alan Markert is in Lynchburg, he can be here in an hour, maybe less. My God, Tony, I can’t have you treating a student like a murder suspect.”

“But what if she is a murderer, Ford? Have you thought about that?”

She bites back a sharp reply. “Detective Wood, could you give us a moment, please?”

Kate nods and steps away. When she’s out of earshot, Ford whirls back to face Tony, whispering furiously.

“This is about us. You’re trying to punish me. I get it. I’m sorry you’re hurt, Tony. But we don’t work. Not anymore. Don’t you dare take your frustrations with me out on my girls.”

Tony’s lips press together in a thin line. “Ford, for an intelligent woman, you can be so colossally stupid sometimes. This situation has nothing to do with us because there is no us. There never will be. You made your position clear. I’m never going to leave this place, and you’re going to get out the first chance you get. I understand completely. But don’t think that just because I fucked you a few times it impairs my ability to do my job. If you want to call a lawyer, do it. I’ll call for a deputy to take Ash Carlisle to the office and do this formally. And I’ll give her a Breathalyzer, too.”

“You wouldn’t dare. You have no cause.”

He laughs, low and mean. “You think I can’t smell the alcohol on all y’all’s breaths? I most certainly do have cause, they’re underage. You aren’t, but I’ve seen you bleary-eyed enough to recognize you’ve had a few yourself. Do you think the parents would be happy about that? One of their kids dies while you’re partying?”

“I was not. My God, Tony. You can be so cruel. And you wonder why I broke it off.”

He takes a huge breath, blows it out. “If you’d like to stop being dramatic, you can let me have a civilized chat with the kid, outside of the influence of her girlfriend. Or a lawyer. There could be a simple explanation. It was pretty clear the older girl—Becca?—was controlling what Ash had to say. She was gripping Ash’s hand so tight it was turning white. Let me do my job, and I won’t interfere with yours.”

Ford is deeply stung by his words, by the truth she hears in them, though she isn’t going to let him know it.

“Fine. I will have to be there. You don’t talk to her alone. She’s been through a horrible trauma and she’s barely holding herself together.”

“What trauma, Ford? Exactly.”

“Over the summer, her father, Sir Damien Carr, committed suicide. When her mother discovered him, she shot herself. Ash found the two of them while her mother was still alive, barely. She died in her arms. It’s been terribly hard for her, as you can imagine. Now this...”

A hard, pitiless edge flashes in the sheriff’s eyes. He has cop eyes. Dead eyes. Ford shivers internally—this is why she and Tony can’t be together. There is something cold at his core. He has a mean streak. It felt dangerously fun in the beginning, but she quickly realized he can’t turn it off. It’s his coping mechanism for all the horrors he’s seen, or so he says. She knows exactly what he’s thinking—Ash has been connected to three deaths in two months.

Four, really, there’s been another death, but Muriel Grassley doesn’t count. Ash had nothing to do with that accident.

Still, maybe she should call Alan. Or even her mother.

At the very thought of Jude phoning her relentlessly tonight from her command post at the house, the kitchen table scattered, no doubt, with crystal glasses and empty bottles, Ford’s spine stiffens. No. She can handle Tony.

“I will shut this down the moment I feel it’s becoming too much for her to handle. She has nothing to do with this, Tony.”

“Understood. And I’m sorry to hear about her folks. That’s tough. I’ll be delicate. Kate?” he calls, and his niece hurries to his side. “Let’s talk to her.”

Tony’s holster smacks against the doorframe as they go back into the room. The gun is big, wicked. Ford hates to see it in her school. It makes everything that happened tonight feel so irreversible.

Inside, Ash looks fragile and broken. She is slumped in the chair, tears running freely down her cheeks. When she sees them enter, she sits up and wipes her arm across her face.

Tony perches one butt cheek on the desk, and Ford grits her teeth to stop from snapping, That’s an antique, you moron, at him.

“Ash, I know this is hard. I also know your friend was trying to keep you from talking to me. Now that we’re alone, what would you like to tell me about this evening? You were tapped for a secret society?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“Ash, I give you permission to discuss everything that happened tonight with the sheriff. Nothing said here will leave this room.” Ford smooths a hand over Ash’s arm. Within seconds, Ash is rubbing the spot. The poison ivy... Lord, don’t tell them about the poison ivy, he’ll have all our heads.

“There’s nothing to say.”

Thatta girl. Ford says aloud, “You can give us details about the night without divulging the secrets of the society.”

“All right. They came to my room, yelled at me for a while, then we went to another room, they yelled awhile longer, then they sent us back to bed. Nothing that had anything to do with Camille. Camille was gone before they came. She had a summons to the attics. I don’t know from whom.”