“Will you tell me?” Sara asked. “What really happened? The ink.” She looked at Greer. “You had the birthmark removed from your neck, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Greer said. “Kate said it looked like an elephant. She liked it but I didn’t. Reid had one too but it’s gone. I guess he had it lasered off.”
Alish nodded. “He did. He hated it, and I knew why.”
“Please tell,” Sara whispered, and Alish nodded.
Twenty-Five
“I think you should go back to the hospital,” Greer said. “You shouldn’t have left.”
Alish looked at her granddaughter’s hand, then held it up for Sara to see.
Sara understood. It was about youth. Greer’s hand was unlined, no wrinkles or spots, but pure, clean, young flesh. Young people wanted to hold on to life. Greer wanted her grandmother to return to tubes and needles and endless doctors. All to stay alive, even if only for a few more days.
But Sara knew that there came a time when a person accepted death. The concern washowit would happen. With or without pain? Long or slow? Or the best, quick and unexpected?
It was easy to see that Alish was ready to leave the earth. She didn’t fear going. She just wanted to enjoy what she could, especially to be with her granddaughter who she obviously loved.
And there was more. From Alish’s eyes, weak and watery, and oh so very tired, Sara could see that the woman wanted to tell. To confess. To leave behind the truth.
But first, Sara wanted to know the answer to the question of “who?” She looked at Greer, then to Alish with her eyebrows raised.
“No,” Alish said. “I sent Reid away to his company in St. Petersburg. I got one of the nurses to send Sheriff Flynn a text saying Reid pushed me down the stairs. He said he will have men meet Reid there. When they return, I will tell what he did to that blackmailing man. The sheriff will—”
Greer pulled her hand away and sat up straight. “Are you saying that Reid is the one who killed Mr. Oliver?”
“And Rachel,” Sara said calmly, then looked at Alish. “She knew too much?”
Alish nodded.
“I don’t understand,” Greer said. “You sent me away for my whole life. But back then, did you know that Reid did that?”
Sara looked at Greer, her face stern. “She protected you. She kept you safe. She couldn’t betray her grandson, no matter what. You can’t ask anyone to make a choice like that.”
Alish was swallowing hard, glad that Sara understood. “It was my fault. I did it all.”
Sara put her hand to the side of her neck and said, “Ink.”
Alish let out a sigh that seemed to be relief at the truth being known.
“You’re saying that my brother is a murderer?” Greer’s voice was rising in anger. “I don’t believe you.” She started to get up.
Sara turned fiery eyes on her. “You can sit and listen to what your grandmother has to say or you can get on your platform of superiority and condemn everyone. It’s your choice!”
Greer sat back down.
“Scotland,” Alish said. “It’s all from there. Two sisters. They were identical twins.”
Sara nodded. “I guessed as much. Mary and her sister.”
“Like your books.” Alish smiled. “I’ve read them. Very entertaining. You have twins. One good and one bad.”
“Too boring,” Sara said. “My twins are always different, not good and bad.”
“Mary was sweet and kind and very quiet. Her sister—I cannot bear to say her name—loved parties and people and being the center of everyone’s attention. Every male for fifty miles wanted her.”
“Except for one man,” Sara said. “James Lachlan.”
