The Last Invitation (73)

“Gabby? Answer me.”

Telling would ruin everything. Raise questions. Pile on more doubt. Make him hate her. Once she unlocked this box, she’d never be able to slam it shut again.

“The detective is trying to divide us. Work on our loyalty to each other.” And that was true. Detective Schone knew the truth . . . which seemed impossible, or she guessed. She could have had access to attorney records, though Gabby couldn’t imagine Baines sharing any part of this topic with anyone. It gave people power over him, serious power, and he never conceded the high ground.

“Why would she do that?” Liam asked.

“If you don’t have my support, you’re weaker. But if we’re fighting, it plays into her wrong assumptions about us.” Gabby tried to stop talking. She didn’t want to tiptoe through any of this, and here she was stomping her way around the facts.

“Fill me in on the assumptions.”

Gabby went with a version of the truth. The pieces were right, but if he fit them together he’d get the wrong picture. “She tried to get me to agree with her about you and Baines being in a fight. About you killing him. She told me to turn on you to save myself.”

Liam shook his head. “Why do you need saving?”

That’s not what she expected him to grab on to. She needed him angry about the violation of his privacy, not standing there all stoic, as if waiting for her to hurt him again. “The thing . . . You know, what she said. The thing about us. Together. Our past and what that meant. What we might have done. That we came up with a plan. For Baines. I don’t know why we would, and we didn’t, but . . . To hurt Baines and then kill him.”

He shook his head. “You know you have a tell, right? The way you talk changes when you’re worried or under fire. We’ve joked about it, but still you’re trying to lie to me.”

The babbling thing. She’d had it since she was a kid and never kicked it. She’d even taken speech training classes and saw a therapist about anxiety. Nothing helped.

“The last few weeks have been a terrible ride.” An epic understatement, but not a lie. “I barely held it together, then Kennedy got so angry and refuses to be near me. Now she’s gone. Then that reporter and the accident. The attack, which I still don’t get. Was it a coincidence that it happened so soon after Baines . . . died? I haven’t had the time or space to grieve for anyone.” She could feel her nerves firing and her words picking up speed. The anxiety swelled, and she tried to take a breath. Tried to slow down. “Kennedy and I are trying. We talk at night, and—”

“Gabby.”

A sharp, buzzing pain started above her eye. “Liam, please. This is all too much. We’re not on solid ground. We can’t do this now.”

“I’m giving you a onetime pass.” He held up a finger as if to emphasize his point. “You tell me now, and I’ll figure out a way to let the fact you hid whatever this is from me slide. But this must be the last time, and you must tell me now. No more stalling.”

Not this. The secret was too big, too horrible. “You can’t control your emotions like that.”

“Jesus, how bad is this? What do you know about Natalie, the sister I loved, took care of, and watched over, that I don’t?”

“Nothing, really.” The statement was true, but she heard the softness of her voice and knew she hadn’t sold it.

“Gab, honestly. I’m a patient man, but you are testing my limits.”

“You’ll hate me,” she blurted out.

“Do you really not understand what I feel for you?” His arms dropped to his sides as he took in a deep breath. “I’m forty-three. I’ve been in love with you since I was eighteen. Through marriages and divorces, through lying about Kennedy and depriving me of a chance at being her father. I still love you. It pisses me off, but I do. So, no, whatever you aren’t telling me won’t make me hate you. I’ve tried. Trust me. The hate doesn’t hold.”

Breath left her body. Longing battled with despair. The rawness of his voice and the sweet honesty of his admission pricked at her. She whispered his name because that’s as much energy as she could muster right then. “Liam . . .”

“Gabby, now. Please.” The pleading moved into his voice. “It can’t be as bad as you’re making it sound.”

Wrong. “Baines killed Natalie.”





Chapter Sixty-Four

Jessa




Think. Say something . . . anything. You stood up for a reason. You’re in front of her desk for a reason. The directions ran through Jessa’s head, one after the other. She needed to pick a few words, a simple excuse, and run with it. Stay calm. Don’t flinch.

Gabby had called her a liar. Well, it was time to perform.

“Is your call over?” Jessa couldn’t believe her heart could hammer that fast and that hard without her needing a hospital.

“The boys are headed out for dinner.” Retta set two cups of tea on the edge of her desk. “Now tell me what you’re doing.”

Finding the damn notebook I tried to steal.

“Looking for a pen.” Reasonable. An easy-to-remember excuse.

Retta looked at the penholder sitting next to her computer and lifted one out. “Like this?”