Pain rushed through me. It spilled out and over, covering every inch and every thought. The need to curl up and cry and never leave my house again bombarded me. I had so much to answer for... So much to hide.
“What do you think happened? Victoria did kill Patrick, right? How does Aubrey fit in?” I doubted I’d be able to hear the answer. My mind was too cluttered withwhat ifs andwish I hadthoughts. Patrick’s still body. All that blood.
Cam exhaled as he relaxed back into the couch cushions. “I know what you know. You said she threatened to incriminate you.”
Cam had stepped in and purposely skewed the timeline to hide my presence at the house. I’d played along. It was time to ask for clarity. “And after you told me to leave the house?”
A simple question I’d circled around and asked for years only to be met with some form ofyou should be grateful I handled your mess. And I was, so I shut up, but not today. Not when themissing pieces painted a bigger picture that could save me from prison.
Instead of grumbling or outright leaving, Cam sat there. It took almost a minute for him to continue. “I got the call about the fire at the bookstore and thought Victoria might have gone and burned it down. By the time I got back to the house Patrick’s body was gone. I looked where you told me but there wasn’t anything there. I still don’t understand what happened to the family but instinct kicked in. I called for help. Pretended I went to the house to tell the family about the fire and found the blood. Acted like I stumbled over the house crime scene.”
He became complicit in blaming Patrick as a potential killer when he knew from me that couldn’t be true. All to keep me out of it. “You protected me.”
Cam stood up but didn’t go anywhere. The move seemed born out of a need to move and not a desire to bolt. “The security footage had been wiped. Back then it only covered the gate and the outside of the house and wasn’t transmitted off-site. Xavier could watch it, then erase it both at his house and at the one he bought for Patrick.”
“Why?” That meant Xavier saw my car in the driveway that day. Unless Hanna and Stella knew how to dodge the cameras, he knew they were there as well. Unless he was in the hidden passageways inside the house, which it didn’t sound like he was, he had information but not enough to bury us. He probably couldn’t tell which one of us did what, if anything. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell the police.
One piece didn’t make sense. He could have blamed all of us and destroyed Hanna but didn’t. Why? Instead, fifteen yearslater, he set up an elaborate meeting about the division of his assets. It’s like he wanted to continue his game and keep us all off-balance.
“He insisted Aubrey killed her father. Killed all of them,” Cam said.
Aubrey was Xavier’s target. That will reading he arranged for was a way to unmask her or at least drive her into the light. He dropped hints with the distributions, likely for her.
Cam shook his head. “He wasn’t clear about why he blamed Aubrey or why she’d do something so deranged. It could be that it was safer to blame Aubrey than the woman he handpicked for Patrick.”
Victoria. Always underestimated by the Tanner men. She’d grown up without anything and craved everything. She worked for Xavier but not directly. She did bookkeeping. Xavier met her one day and likely thought she’d be submissive and suitable for Patrick. Grateful and easy to control. He didn’t count on her determination or her love of the life the money bought her.
“Sounds like Xavier hedged as he got older. He sent Aubrey away and watched, waited for her to blink. She never did.” Cam let out a harsh laugh. “It turned out the one thing he was consistent about, in addition to his ability to make money, was his inability to read women.”
“You’re including Hanna on that list.” I got it. I’d failed at reading her, too. She was both tougher and more vulnerable than I ever expected her to be. She fought for Jeremy with debilitating panic running only inches behind her, ready to trip her up.
“He set her up to fail.” Cam sounded stunned by the idea. “Thought he’d be able to swoop in and save the boy, even thoughhe didn’t really want to be responsible for the kid. He wanted someone else to handle the tough stuff, but he tried to trick himself into thinking he could mold Jeremy into the man Patrick should have been.”
The resounding drumbeat of disappointment. Xavier praised Patrick in public while he ridiculed him in private. The hot and cold taps of fatherly love stole so much from Patrick.
“That’s the thing about Xavier. The whole Tanner family, really.” Cam sounded tired. Worn out and empty. “When he needed me it was an onslaught of attention. By the time he was done needing me, he’d collected just enough intel to bury me. Xavier’s version of instilling loyalty, I guess.”
But there was more. I could hear it in the words Cam didn’t say. “Did Xavier die still demanding something from you?”
“Yes.” Cam didn’t blink. “I’ve been doing it. And it’s almost over.”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Hanna
“What are these?” Jeremy held up a stack of white papers.
Not just any white paper. The notes. Before I discovered him in the garage, I’d gotten them out, read through them, hoping they’d give me a hint as to who had Jeremy and where. The house had fourteen oversized rooms plus five bathrooms and for some reason I left the damn notes sitting on the antique desk behind the couch. The same couch where I insisted Jeremy rest and get some sleep.
Now what? Ignore the conversation and concentrate on making tea? Hide? Both sounded good right now. Easier.
Jeremy walked into the kitchen, which rivaled the professional one we had—used to have—at the café. “Mom?”
The color had returned to his cheeks. He wore lounge pants and the shirt we bought when he visited his college for the first time a year before attending. He moved around with ease. The dark circles under his eyes were the only testament to his time drugged and unconscious on a dirty garage floor.
There’d been so many lies. So many secrets we still had to dissect and discuss. The idea of adding one more problem to the stack almost broke me. I took a fortifying breath. “Someone, not sure who, has been sending me notes.”
He stared at the envelopes. “I don’t get it.”
