“Presley could’ve killed him out of jealousy,” Charlie suggested.
Heat rose to my cheeks as I considered my own jealous thoughts about Charlie’s deputy, but I tamped them back down. This was different. “That’s a good point. Brett had been wanting to start drama—literally, for his show—by having Presley catch him in the act with another girl.”
Charlie fixed his eyes on me, trying to see beneath the words I was saying. “How do you know that?”
I could lie, tell him that one of Brett’s camera crew had let it slip. I could say that Presley had pulled me aside to say she was in on the idea. Neither of those was true and would only lead to more questions. Besides, if Charlie could read me, which he often could, then he would be able to tell if I was making up a story.
“Lacy told me.” I exhaled. “Brett wanted her to be the other girl because they’d dated in high school.”
Charlie’s brow furrowed, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a notebook and pen.
I put my head in my hands. “God, please. Don’t write that down.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s, I don’t know, private information.”
“Dakota, nothing is private in a murder investigation—or if it is, it shouldn’t be.”
TWENTY-SIX
The drive back to The Rose was a quiet one, both Charlie and I lost in our own thoughts. Dusk was setting in, and the day had passed too quickly for the weight of it. As we pulled up the long drive and rounded the circle that led to the main entrance of the house, I wasn’t surprised to see Deputy Wright waiting outside, under the lit lamp at the front of the house, as if she’d been tracking Charlie’s movements.
I scoffed as soon as I spotted her.
“What?” Charlie asked, obviously unaware.
“Nothing,” I muttered, just before we were about to pull up in front of the steps.
Charlie slammed on the brakes, startling me.
I turned to him. “What was that for?”
“You won’t talk to me.” Charlie’s tone was elevated ever so slightly, enough to get my attention since he wasn’t the kind of man who raised his voice in any situation.
I met his eyes, those inlets into his soul, and I saw confusion and frustration and perhaps even a feeling of betrayal.
“You’re quiet and moody,” Charlie continued. “And I have no idea what’s going on in your mind.”
I was the moody one? What about him? The one who couldn’t seem to separate his work self from his personal life, the one who could be delightful and endearing one day and reserved and repressed the next.
“I get that the circumstances this weekend, they’re… extreme.” He huffed out a breath. “But you’ve just… You’re acting so… not normal.” His brow furrowed as he struggled to find the words. “Talk to me. Let me in.”
Frustration heated my cheeks. Charlie had no idea of the load I’d carried into this weekend—even before a man had died right in front of me. Sure, I could’ve told him about Savilla or the worries about my career plans, but I’d been waiting to talk in person this weekend. Then Brett had died and Charlie had been so… so infuriatingly distant. It was almost enough to make me explode.
“You want me to talk?” I started, my voice already a pitch higher. “Fine. In the next forty-eight hours I need to decide whether I’ll start a practice here in Aubergine or take a fellowship in San Diego, a decision that will impact the next four years at a minimum. On top of that I found out that I’ve inherited half of a freaking palace that may be a financial money pit if my new half-sister, Savilla Finch, is to be believed.”
He startled. “Your half-sister?”
“Mr. Finch is—was—my father,” I said, almost like a confession.
“Okay. Wow. That’s a lot.” He stared at the steering wheel as if trying to sort through the list of things I’d just thrown at him. “And San Diego?”
“It’s a program my professor wants me to consider.” I clenched my jaw and released it, trying to let go of tension that wouldn’t abate. “Then on my first night back home, one of my former classmates, who also happened to be a total asshat, was murdered.” I took a deep breath, deciding to try trustinghim with everything. “Did you know that Brett blackmailed Mr. Finch so he could inherit one of the most valuable diamonds in the world?”
“I had no idea,” Charlie said evenly. He studied me, waiting for me to get all my words out.
“Yeah, he has some awful video of Savilla, and he threatened to leak it unless Mr. Finch gave him what he wanted. Which is actually really similar to what he did to Lacy…” I trailed off, running out of steam as I thought about the few remaining hours until her business and her life might be turned upside down by Brett’s email from the dead.
