“You could have died.”
“Maybe we don’t talk about that part.”
“Dash, someone was in our house.”
“Yeah, we need to get a security system.This happens way too often.”
Bobby didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” I said.“I know.I’m scared too.”
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say.”But then he said, “God, of course I do.Thank God you’re all right.Thank God Keme was there.”He shut his mouth, but his breathing accelerated.“When I got that call—”
He stopped again.
“Keme?”I said.
“He’s fine, thank God.He didn’t even need stitches.”
The hum of all those machines swelled into that silence.
“You want me to stop investigating,” I said quietly.
He brought my hand to his cheek; his skin was warm, and under the padding was the firmness of bone.“I don’t even know if that would help.Someone is still out there, Dash.Someone thinks you’re a threat.”
“But I’m not a threat.I don’t know anything.Literally.I mean, I don’t even have theories.Not good ones, anyway.”
“Well, someone thinks you do.”
I rubbed crusties out of my eyes with my free hand, and Bobby took that as his opportunity to pour me water.I drank it, and then he poured some for himself.I was becoming distinctly aware of my need for a toothbrush.
“What happened yesterday?”Bobby said.“After I left.”
I frowned.“I tried to get information out of you and the sheriff, and you werenota particularly helpful inside source.”
A hint of that goofy grin showed before Bobby got serious again.“There’s not much to tell.There aren’t any cameras down by the creek, and Steven didn’t have any defensive wounds.”
“Which means he knew his killer.”
“Or he fell and hit his head.”Bobby drew a deep breath.“That’s a possibility, Dash.He’d had a lot to drink.”
I waved the comment away.“Someone killed him, Bobby.You know it.And I know it.Someone killed him because they were afraid Vivienne told him her theory about who killed Robert Kessler.”I filled Bobby in on what I’d learned from the ducklings and then by playing internet sleuth, and then I said, “The obvious person with a motive here is the real killer.Someone killed Robert Kessler ten years ago and got away with it.At some point, Vivienne realized her mistake.Apparently, she wasn’t worried about it enough to actuallydoanything about it.Not until now, anyway.”
“She might have believed it didn’t matter,” Bobby said.“Simona was dead.And Vivienne was careful about her reputation until you—”
“Dramatically unveiled her real nature?”
Bobby tilted his head.Sometimes, I got the sense he was still trying to get a good look at me.
“Right,” I said.“Well, anyway, Vivienne goes to prison.Her career is over.Her reputation is in shambles.And then she gets thisridiculouspardon, and all of a sudden, she has a chance at a whole new life.She’s Vivienne Carver, which means she’s going to solve murders and write books.And she already knows where to start: the one that got away.But in the non-romantic-comedy way.”
“It might be more than that,” Bobby said.“What if she didn’t come back to solve the murder?What if she’d already figured it out?”
A low-grade thrill ran through my aching body.“And she’d contacted the killer.”
“Would Vivienne try to blackmail someone?”
“I don’t know.Maybe.Yes.I don’t know.”I shook my head.“Blackmail doesn’t work well with the plan to unveil a killer, but what if she didn’t contact them for blackmail?What if she was trying to get the evidence she needed, and somehow, she gave herself away?”
