I bite my nails, waiting for Braden to appear, but instead, Wolf and Blitz jump from the SUV, and Seth is unloading the dogsled.
“Where’s Bra—my dad?” I utter in a little girl’s voice. “Why isn’t my dad here?”
No one pays me any attention. Is it because they already know I’m a fake? Not even Jolene gives me a comforting pat.
Only Abbie sidles up to me and tugs my sleeve. “My mom says Poppy’s safe in the hospital. Maybe your dad’s with him.”
“I hope so.” I hug her, earning a glare from Lindsay.
She’s definitely hostile. Will gives me a sheepish shrug and turns away like a sulking boy who’s no longer trying to be a Don Juan.
If the situation weren’t so serious, I would have given him an eye roll, but I watch with dread as the sheriff and deputy march up to the porch and the doorbell rings.
“Oh, let me get it.” Jolene springs to action. “You all go gather in the great room. We must cooperate to the fullest extent.”
I’ve been through interrogations and questionings before. Everyone’s going to try and throw everyone else under the bus. I still have tire marks over my chest from my last incarceration, and I’m not going under this time.
I follow after Jolene, ignoring her directive, and raise my hand. “I’ll go first. Whatever needs to be said will be said. I’m sorry for the prank I pulled on everyone, but Poppy already knows the truth.”
“Oh, no, you’re not getting out of it this easily,” Lindsay says. “We all know you’re going after him changing his will. You and Braden are frauds, and guess what? We looked you up last night.”
“Lindsay, hush.” Jolene glares daggers at her. “No one is to say anything until after questioning.”
“The truth will come out anyway,” she says in a snotty voice. “You guys were all fooled. All except me and Susanna. She called him Braden, and the way he looks at her is not the way a father looks at a daughter.”
“I said, hush,” Jolene repeats, and Nash springs into action.
“Come now, Lindsay.” He takes her by the arm. “You’ll get your chance with the sheriff. If Samantha Reed wants to go first, let her. She’ll just dig herself deeper into the hole.”
Lindsay gives me a smirk and tosses her head as if she doesn’t care. “Good luck, Miss Reed.”
Abbie and Will’s eyes ping pong back and forth between me and their mother, clearly confused.
I lean down and give Abbie a pat. “Why don’t you get the Rubik’s cube and show your mom how it’s done?”
Then crossing over to Will, I extend my arms for a last hug. He steps forward in a defiant manner and hugs me tight.
“I’m sorry, Will. I’ll always remember how awesome you were on the snowmobile. You’re going to be a brave man someday.”
“You’re a good kisser,” he whispers with a shy grin.
Jolene welcomes the sheriff and deputy into the house.
They stomp the snow off their boots and take off their hats, accepting her offer of coffee and biscuits.
“If you can let me have the use of the den, I’ll be obliged,” the sheriff says.
“My husband has already cleared his paperwork out.” Jolene leads the way. “Samantha wants to be first.”
“Good.” His voice is curt.
I wish my palms weren’t so sweaty. Other than the lies about being Braden’s daughter, I have nothing to hide. I also refuse to believe Braden would hurt a bone on his grandfather’s body. There’s a mathematical game theory conundrum called the prisoner’s dilemma.
The way it works is obvious. If Braden and I are loyal and give each other alibis, the sheriff won’t have enough to nail us. He can, however, dig up dirt on us and threaten us with other charges. We both end up in a draw—not free and clear, but not doomed either.
Therefore, he’ll make each of us a deal to betray the other. If I throw Braden under the bus and he remains loyal, I go scot-free and he goes under. He loses and I win. Same thing happens the other way, namely if I’m loyal and he throws me under the bus, he wins and I go back to jail.
However, if we both incriminate the other one, we both lose, but maybe we can plea on a lesser charge since we turned evidence. Taken individually, it’s better for me to throw him under the bus and for him to remain quiet. The second-best situation is if we both sing like birds and plea for a lesser charge.
