“But I didn’t think?—”
“Why hide the bracelet?” I hold up the piece of jewelry that Byrdie handed me.
Lydia flattens her lips.
Vonn stirs.
Her eyes dart to him, and she shifts to the edge of her chair away from him. “I was trying to get rid of her so I could keep looking.”
“Your little trick didn’t work before. What made you think it would work again?” Nash gives the bracelet a blank look.
I move to hand it to him, but he shakes his head at me.
“I was supposed to go to the sheriff about it,” she says.
“Whose bracelet is it?” Nash asks, sitting back in his seat.
My eyes widen. I assumed the bracelet belonged to his mom, just like the necklace had.
Lydia shrugs. “I don’t know. Your uncle said I should go to the sheriff and say I’d seen it in her room, and the sheriff would get rid of her so I could keep looking.”
“I would have gone tojail,” Byrdie says, face white.
Vonn looks like he’s fighting the urge to strangle Lydia, and he’s losing the battle.
“Talk,” Vonn barks at Lydia.
She jumps. “I couldn’t stop, okay. I said I didn’t want to do it, but I’ve done so many bad things that he could use against me. Maybe even tell my parents and Paul, who might call off the wedding.”
“Get out,” Nash snaps at her.
I jerk my head toward him. “But she’ll go right back to your?—”
“I don’t care where she goes. I just want her out of my house in the next five minutes,” he says, not taking his eyes off Lydia. “Give her that bracelet, Makhi. I want it out of my house.”
I toss Lydia the bracelet, glad to get rid of it along with the woman who learned firsthand what happens when you get involved with a blackmailer: they soon turn on you.
Lydia, sensing this offer might soon run out, scrambles up out of her chair and darts to the door.
Nance follows, scowling. “I’ll make sure she leaves and takes that bracelet with her.”
Nash pushes his chair back, and I watch him curiously as he rounds his desk and sinks into a crouch in front of Byrdie.
He takes both her hands and squeezes. “I owe you an apology, Byrdie,” he says.
Her eyes widen. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes. I absolutely do.” He sighs tiredly and gives her a small smile. “She’s been working here for a long time. I should have known or at least suspected who put that necklace in your bag, and that my uncle would be involved. Whoever snuck in wouldn’t have had time—or even known—where to look for it to plant it on you. And only Lydia could have opened that front gate. What happened led to your nearly dying, and that was on me.”
Nash’s smile slips when she pulls her hands from his.
His surprise is palpable when she hugs him. “You don’t owe me an apology, Nash. But thanks for thinking that you do.”
He wraps his arms around her, returning her hug.
I can’t help but remember that she only came on a ride with me because she was bored. Even if she had a good time, that doesn’t mean I’m forgiven.
Nash apologized, but he’s not the one to blame for what happened to Byrdie.
