The shouting started a second later. The forensic team quickened their pace. The detectives rallied around the tent. Everyone moved and shuffled as if waiting for the next drop of damning information.
The detective talking with Aubrey left her side. He walked to the tent, having a subordinate wait with Aubrey as he went in for a closer look.
Cam hummed. “Yeah, it’s something.”
Breathe in for four. Hold for seven. Exhale for eight.
The calming cycle my therapist taught me.It hadn’t worked for days.
Cam’s phone buzzed. His gaze shifted to the tent. To an officer standing just outside the heavy folds. The two men made eye contact, then Cam looked down at his cell’s screen. I leaned in, desperate not to miss the gossip buzzing across the lawn.
A body.
The words swam and merged together. I blinked, willing the news to go away.
“Someone’s buried in there.” Cam sounded grim. Resigned.
“Dea?” But I knew the answer. Dea was buried on her parents’ property in Connecticut. She wasn’t in the family mausoleum Xavier now occupied—a fact that fueled the decades-old conspiracies about him killing her.
Patrick. Victoria. Noah. Those were the most likely answers.
“This is going to get bad.” Cam’s firm voice wavered a bit.
His worry touched off cascading waves of panic inside me. My stomach. My head. My vision. Every part of me stopped working, locked in a rotating series ofwhat ifquestions that led to a cold and empty place.
“What can they tell from bones that have been underground for more than a decade?” Nothing. I prayed the answer wasnot a damn thing.
“We need to get you an attorney.” He whispered, and he never whispered.
His serious tone told me all I needed to know. If the body was Patrick’s they’d find the evidence. Then I’d be arrested for murder.
Chapter Thirty
Hanna
A body found. We’d been ordered to leave after that. The police cleared out the stray wanderers and the press. The street shut down. Wealthy neighbors poured out of their ballrooms and indoor pools to whine about the inconvenience. News about the discovery slowed down the rapid-fire complaints but didn’t stop them.
Jeremy and I rode back to our house in silence. He never asked about the documents I’d shoved into my purse or the reason why I was at Xavier’s mansion. He took in information, deflected most of Aubrey’s nonsense, and kept moving.
My son. If this whole situation and all that inheritance broke him, I would set the last bits of Xavier’s reputation on fire. I would step into the spotlight and start talking.
Jeremy stopped at the table in the dining area. He poked around in the open security alarm boxes. “What’s all this?”
“With the growing interest in our lives, I thought an alarm system for the house made sense.” The notes. They’d pushed meto make this happen, but he had enough to worry about without my adding one more thing I couldn’t explain.
His head shot up as I talked. “Are you afraid?”
Yes. Totally.“Just trying to be sensible.”
“Right.” He walked into the kitchen. Boxes forgotten. Food topped his agenda.
“I can make you something and—”
“I’m fine.”
Ah, we still weren’t talking. Got it.
“Do you want to say something to me?” It was a dangerous lead-in, but I fed it to him anyway.
