“Harmony was wrong. They didn’t tell her because she was true of heart. I think her brothers worried all their lives she’d eventually turn herself in to the police. They corralled Clive into helping them make sure she didn’t. And part of looking out for her, they kept that secret to themselves.” She shrugged and lifted her hands to her sides. “No body. No murder.”
“Justifiable homicide,” I corrected.
“Quite,” she agreed on an eye twinkle.
“So, where is he?” I asked.
She grinned mischievously. “Where he should be. Under a manure pit on the farm to the south of The Downs.”
Buried under shit.
I burst out laughing again.
And so did she.
Later, when I told Battle where Hughes-Davies was, he busted out laughing too.
And since I wasn’t done with how awesome I thought Saint, Bishop and Flint’s funereal decisions were for that dick, I joined him.
That said, even though all of what Ravenna told me made sense (or a certain kind of it), I wasn’t entirely sure all of it was true.
Prue hadn’t seen those visions, and the intruder that night followed me, seemingly unaware of the ghost ball, and he couldn’t have missed it.
It was safe to say I had an overactive imagination, I was dealing with Mom’s death, the challenge of a new book, and experiencing trial by fire as I became a part of a family while falling in love with the man of my dreams.
Not to mention, Chassie’s floorboard had been loose for decades so Harmony could hide her things under it. It was likely it would give eventually.
Last, cats were cats.
In the end, it didn’t really matter if it was phantasmagorical or real.
The end result was worth it.
It was several weeks later.
On a sunny day.
While Battle and I were watching my very young nephew and niece fail miserably at croquet (I mean, the mallet was taller than Rayray! but she was determined to play, God love her).
That was when he took my hand.
He slid Charlie’s ring from my finger, a ring I hadn’t taken off since he put it on. He grabbed my other hand and slid it there.
He then reached into the pocket of his jeans and went back to my left hand.
And there, he slid an almost-exact replica of Charlie’s ring to Harmony on my finger.
Of course, the diamonds were a whole lot bigger.
But other than that, it was the same.
In other words, it was outlandishly perfect.
Just like my fiancé.
He then raised my hand to his lips and kissed the ring, before he pressed my hand flat on his chest.
“Marry me?” he whispered.
