She staggered back. “No … no. I can’t believe it. Tell me you weren’t involved in Holly’s death.”
“I’m sorry,” Wyatt said. “Believe me when I say it haunts me. I’m filled with regret. I mean it. When she came to us about the adoption papers she’d found, so determined to find her birth parents, it rattled me. I should have taken the time to think it over, found a way for us all to get through it, together. Instead, I … I …”
Roxy let out a scream that tore through the house.
Then she turned, fleeing the room.
Before I could make my next move, Roxy burst back into the room with a pistol in her shaking hand. She raised it, aimed at Wyatt, and yelled, “You killed my daughter!”
She fired, and the shot cracked through the room, settling into the wall behind him.
Wyatt lunged at Roxy, but I stepped between them, gun raised. “Stop right there.”
He ignored me, throwing his weight forward as he reached for my gun.
My mother drew her own firearm. “Back away from my daughter.”
He laughed, saying, “Or what? You’re not going to shoot me, old woman.”
The second he touched me, my mother fired.
Wyatt shrieked in pain and collapsed, gripping his leg as the blood drained from it.
I turned toward Roxy. “Give me your gun.”
She nodded and did what I asked.
“You ruined everything!” Wyatt snarled, glaring up at me.
“No,” I said. “You did that on your own.”
My mother moved beside me, breath sharp, eyes locked on him as if trying to anticipate his next move.
But it seemed he’d conceded.
Roxy dropped to her knees, sobbing, “My daughter … my precious, precious daughter.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. Tires screeched to a halt outside, and as someone pounded on the front door, my mother rushed to let them in. She pulled the door open like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment. Our mother–daughter takedown had been a success, and judging by the grin she tossed me, she felt like she’d just won gold.
14
Whitlock and Foley moved fast, taking Wyatt into custody while the paramedics carried him out on a stretcher. Roxy watched from the doorway, her face pale, hands shaking. A few minutes earlier, I’d offered support, and she let me know she’d just called her mother, and she was expected any time, which was a relief.
My mother hovered near me, brushing a strand of hair from my face and offering me a smile. “I told you I’d always have your back. I hope you didn’t mind, an old woman tagging along.”
“You’re not old, and I have to say, I am grateful you were here.”
“It wasn’t the first time.”
And something told me it wouldn’t be the last.
Outside, red and blue lights flashed against a tree in the yard, the glow dancing across the ornaments. A perfect family in a perfect house. That illusion had been shattered now.
As Wyatt was taken away, Foley approached me. “You did good work here. Both of you managed to get a confession and everyone came out alive.”
My mother straightened with pride, soaking in the praise like sunshine.
“Tell me, how did you know it was him?” he asked.
