I hesitated only a moment before putting an arm around her, and Savilla rested her head against me. I pictured Momma’s faceburied in Aunt DeeDee’s shoulder when we’d gotten the news that the treatment was no longer working. She hadn’t wanted me to take the burden; though back then, I’d resented what I’d viewed as Momma pulling away from me. In my brief time of having an actual sister, I thought I might better understand now.
While I hadn’t been raised in the same household as Savilla, I’d come of age in the same community at the same time as her. We’d had very different socioeconomic upbringings, but we’d both had two strong women—who had been sisters in fact—directing our lives and soothing our heartaches.
I squeezed Savilla tighter, and after a few moments, she lifted her head, wiped her eyes, and looked at me with gratitude.
“I just remembered… The last time I was up here, Daddy actually talked about Brett while he was removing stones from that piece there…” Savilla gestured to a necklace with one very large center setting and a row of smaller prongs running up both sides of the gold, all the way to the clasp. It was like a version of the Hope Diamond necklace that I remembered seeing on display in Washington, D.C., when our class had taken an overnight field trip there in seventh grade.
Other kids hadn’t been interested in that part of the Museum of Natural History, and to be fair, I’d liked the exhibit of the stuffed prehistoric animals more. Still, I’d appreciated the low lighting and the soothing classical music of the gem exhibit amid the overstimulating chatter of my peers. I recalled pressing my face to the glass, marveling at the sparkling blue center and the stories the curator told of the many people who’d owned it and come to unfortunate ends.
“Are you thinking of the time we saw the Hope Diamond?” Savilla asked, almost as if she could read my mind. “You and I were the only two interested in it.”
“Were we?” I tried to recall Savilla’s middle school face pressed to the other side of the glass box as we stood in therounded corridor in the museum, a domed ceiling rising above us. She’d been in my life for all of it, and for that, I was grateful, especially now that I knew of our actual connection.
Savilla was family, and she was also invested in this case for more than one reason: It was her father who’d been killed four months ago and her home where Brett had died.
I could take a chance and fully include her in the investigation, or I could keep trying to manage pieces of it on my own. I glanced at her again, and I practically heard Momma’s voice:Sometimes you gotta take a chance and trust people.
I had no time to make a pro/con list, so I studied Savilla’s eyes, which seemed guileless enough.
“Listen.” I held her arm. “What I’m about to tell you is privileged information. It could help us figure out who killed Brett, but you have to keep it to yourself, understand?”
Savilla nodded and crossed her heart. “Hope to die,” she said, before catching her word choice. “You know what I mean.”
After allowing myself one more second’s hesitation, I told her everything: from the items I’d found in Joe’s locker, to the video of Brett’s death, to him blackmailing Lacy, to the coroner’s report.
Savilla’s face was a study in concentration as she fingered one of the necklace settings. “The Rose Diamond killed Brett Brinkley?”
I nodded. “Someone stole the diamond—or at least found where it was located—and dropped it in his drink, knowing that Brett was the kind of guy to down his glass of whiskey on the rocks in a single gulp.”
“Okay,” Savilla said, thinking out loud. “The killer knew Brett well, and they knew our house well too. They’d mostly likely been to the estate, likely at the 2023 pageant, when the stone went missing.”
I ran through the list of suspects still at the house. Who had been here during the pageant two years ago? My mind stumbled over the obvious—Savilla, Lacy, Aunt DeeDee—but I refused to believe any of them had taken the diamond. That left Brett himself.
Or someone hiding in plain sight. Someone who knew The Rose’s secrets better than any of us realized.
Someone who might be watching me piece it all together right now.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Savilla’s financial planner called, and since it had to do with the future of the estate, she took it. I wanted to check in with Lacy and see if she’d made any progress on the email password front, so we decided to split up for a bit.
Savilla headed downstairs and toward her room, and I started down the hall in the opposite direction toward the elevator, passing the guest rooms. I paused in front of one because I recognized two familiar voices coming from inside.
Aunt DeeDee and Joe.
I stopped in my tracks, knowing that Aunt DeeDee would not want me listening to her through a closed door. She would tell me that if I had questions, then I should come right out and ask them. Still, what if Joe said something to her that he wouldn’t say to anyone else, especially Charlie or his officers? If my sneaking around helped the case, the allowance would have to be made.
I decided to stay, and pressed my ear to the door just like I’d done outside of the Media Room when I’d heard Lacy and Anton’s conversation last night.
Joe’s voice was muffled, as if he’d been crying. “I may have wanted him dead, but I had nothing to do with his death.”
The words froze me in place.
“I know, dear,” Aunt DeeDee responded, her tone sympathetic. I could almost see the gentle expression that she always gave me when I was in distress. “From my vantage point, I can see a list of folks who may have wanted to put Brett Brinkley in his place a time or two.”
“But the sheriff isn’t questioning them about dropping a diamond in his drink.”
Okay, word had gotten out about how Brett had died.
