“Love, I know it’s hard. But in a way, something like this—a night of babysitting, where there’s nobody from school, nobody your age—is a perfect way to dip your toe back in the world. You’re going to have to go out there eventually…”
“Urgh. Fine. I hate this.”
“I know. If you want to talk about the—”
“Don’t. Please.”
“OK. But if you change your mind, I’m here.” Leesa looks at her screen behind her. “Right, gotta do this call, and it’s video, so…” She nods at the door.
Maeve heaves herself off the chair and slopes out. Aoife is standing in the hall, supposedly gazing at some family photos that have been there for a decade.
“God, you’re so nosy.”
Aoife turns to look at her. “Yeah, well, sometimes it pays off.” She tosses her hair and gives Maeve a knowing look, then swishes back to the kitchen.
80
Venetia
Last week
Venetia had never felt rage like it. Or power. This woman—this Susan, cowering in front of her. Not so glib now. Not so brave. Blood roared in her ears as she thought about slamming Susan’s head against the wall, how it would feel, what it would do, and it took her a second to realize she was being jerked back. Pulled away, pulled backward, stumbling, toward the front door. Felipe.How is he here?She struggled against him, but he was stronger than expected. Quiet, gentle Felipe, now dragging her out of Susan O’Donnell’s house.
She lashed out an arm to grab the doorjamb and held firm.
“I’m coming,” she hissed back to Felipe.
She turned to face Susan, who was slumped against the wall, a look of horror on her face. It gave Venetia only the smallest amount of satisfaction before Aimee’s body filled her mind again.
“I know where you live, Susan. And if you call the police, I’ll slit your throat. You know I mean it, don’t you?”
A terrified nod. No words.
Venetia jabbed a finger toward her. “I know you, but you don’t know me. If you tell the guards, they have nothing to go on. While they’re trying to work out who I am, where I am—I’ll be back here, this time with a very sharp blade. Got it?”
Another nod.
Felipe yanked her back and pulled the front door shut. He began to steer her down the drive but stopped after a few steps, turned and peered in the window beside the front door. Then he was back, propelling her to the car, into the passenger seat before getting into the driver’s seat himself. Wordlessly, she handed him the keys. The engine stuttered when he started the ignition and he tried again, cursing under his breath. This time it took, and he pulled quickly on to the road. Streetlights illuminated beads of sweat on his forehead and his breathing was ragged. He must have run here. She shouldn’t have told him the address. And what was he doing looking in the window afterward?
“Were you checking if she was OK? My sister’s lying dead in her house, and that’s what you’re worried about?”
His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “It’s you I’m worried about. Venetia, my god, what were you thinking? You will go to prison if you’re caught threatening people like this.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will care if you are arrested. Whatever self-defense kind of thing we can say about Rory’s death, it gets complicated if you are threatening this woman. She is going to tell the police. You know that, right?”
“No, she’s not. You heard what I said. She’s fucking terrified. And she doesn’t know who I am.”
“It won’t take her long to figure it out. How many other people did she mention in a message tonight who worked as PR for Bar Four?”
“I didn’t say anything about the message or Aimee or any of it. She hasno idea who I am. I’m the monster who came to get her. The monster who’ll come back if she tells a soul.”
“Venetia, you cannot go back there. You will be caught.”
“I don’t care if I get caught. Aimee’s gone. I have nothing left.”
She glanced over just in time to see the flash of sadness.
