“Which was?”
“Use your imagination. He wasn’t a nice man.” She shrugged. “The point is he didn’t want to see me.”
Half answers. Ambiguous statements. So many questions remained. The revving in my stomach, that crushing weight on mychest, I kept ignoring it all in case she dropped one stray line about Jeremy.
“Where’s my son?” The only thingIcared about. Him being safe. Him being home. “Do you honestly think I won’t beat you with that fireplace poker to get the truth?”
Aubrey’s gaze shifted to the fireplace. When she faced me again she was smiling. “So violent. Who knew you had it in you? Impressive.”
I would do it. Threaten. Attack. Destroy. For him, I’d forfeit every value and all my dignity. Forget the difficult, exhausting years of trying to live a decent life. I’d slough off all of that if it meant getting him back. “Where is he?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with the fire or him going AWOL.”
A part of me believed her. She’d show off and preen if she pulled off a kidnapping. She’d love seeing me squirm and beg. “Then why are you here?”
“We need each other.”
That might be the worst sentence I ever heard. “We don’t.”
“I get it. Frankly, I’m sick of hearing your name. My parents fought about you all the time. Probably because of Mom’s belief about Jeremy’s parentage.”
This again. Over and over about Patrick, a man I found mediocre at best. He grew far less impressive the more I got to know him. “For the last time, I never slept with your dad. I never had any relationship with him except as his research assistant and employee.”
“Like Mom, I assumed you were one of Dad’s many.” Aubrey smiled. “My mistake.”
My life was nothing more than a long, entertaining game to her. Her enjoyment made me rein in my temper and push down the anxiety that ratcheted up with every passing second.
Stay grounded. “About Jeremy.”
She sighed. “Hanna, really, I have no clue where he is.”
“He’s not off somewhere hiding because he’s angry with me.”
“I agree. The police have it wrong. They always got it wrong, except for those times when they purposely got in the way.” Her mocking tone had given way to a much more rational one.
“You mean Cam.”
Her expression wasn’t neutral now. At the mention of his name, Aubrey’s mouth fell into a flat line. “He was there. The house had a revolving door that day. You. Marni. Stella. Isabel. Cam. My grandfather. Lukas.”
I debated staying silent, letting her twist as she coughed up more information I didn’t know. But that was too many people.
“Interesting, right?” The amusement in her voice. The slight lift. “The point is it’s time for the people who killed my parents to pay. Gramps accused the wrong person. I won’t.”
She knew more. A lot more. “People?As in plural?”
“I didn’t touch my parents. You didn’t. Jeremy was, what, four? He’s in the clear.”
Still no mention of Noah. Not as a survivor or a fatality. Did she know he no longer existed? Did he exist? Did she even care?
I blocked out all the questions. Jeremy needed all of my energy. My entire focus. “I’m not doing anything until I find my son and figure out who hurt Daniela.”
“What if I told you we’re looking for the same people? A currently unidentified person who wants to wrap up the questionsabout my parents’ murders nice and neat. Hurt me even if it hurts you and Jeremy.”
Jesus.So many pieces and none of them connected in an understandable way. “Back up. Your mother definitely is dead?”
“Of course she is.” No hesitation. Not one second of wondering. “Where else could she be? But she’s irrelevant to this.”
Irrelevant?“You are not okay.”
