I run the faucets in the tub, dropping some bath oil that I find in the cupboard over the sink into the water. I remove a couple of towels, placing them over the radiator so they are warm for her when she gets out. Then I help her into the bathroom and leave her to soak in the tub while I find a clean nightdress for her to change into and replace the covers on her bed with fresh linens.
When she emerges from the bathroom, in a cloud of steam, rubbing at her wet hair with a towel, it’s good to see her at least looking like the woman I know. Propping her up on the bed, I gently pull a comb through her hair before blow-drying it.
I’m conscious of the form lingering behind the doorway, but I don’t acknowledge him, and Elizabeth doesn’t notice her son at all. I don’t know how long he’s been there or how much he heard.
I stay with her after she’s tucked up and has taken a valium, only stepping out of the room when she’s asleep.
The door has only just closed after me when Charlie reels me into his arms. “Thank you for taking care of her.” He holds me tight. “I couldn’t do this without you. You are my strength, Abby.” He kisses the top of my head. “You make me want to be a better person,” he adds, and I smother my snort of hilarity. “A better man. To be someone worthy of you.”
What a pity he hadn’t thought about that before he got his father killed and shattered his family beyond repair.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The funeral is every bit as horrific as I expected it to be. I insist that Charlie sits in between his mother and sister at the top pew in the church, and I’m sitting on the other side of Elizabeth. Drew is on my other side, and my father and Patrice—that emotionless bitch he’s engaged to—are sitting on the other side of him.
The church is packed to capacity, and there are people standing outside too.
Elizabeth’s quiet sobs can be heard throughout the ceremony and I bleed for her. My hands rest on top of hers in her lap, while Charlie has one arm wrapped around his mom and another around Lillian. Lil’s eyes are red, and she’s sniffling intermittingly, but she’s holding it together far better than her mother. Charlie is stoic, his face not betraying much emotion, but the strain is evident in the tense shape of his shoulders and the near-constant tick popping in his jaw.
We all breathe a sigh of relief when it’s finally over.
After the burial, at the town cemetery, in the assigned Barron plot, everyone makes their way to the local hotel, where a lavish spread has been set up in the function room upstairs.
“Hey, little sis.” Drew ambles up behind me, pulling me away from a boring conversation with neighbors of the Barron’s that I’m only half listening to. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. But I’ll be glad when this is all over.”
Drew glances over his shoulder, his eyes locking on our father and Patrice. They are deep in conversation with the Montgomerys and not paying attention to us. “Come to the bar with me.” Drew steers me away, over to the bar at the top of the room. He orders an old-fashioned for himself and a cranberry juice for me. “I’ve got those lists,” he says under his breath, discreetly removing a small, sealed envelope from his inside jacket pocket.
I slide the envelope into my purse, ensuring no one is looking. “Thanks. I spoke to Chad last night, and he’s in. He’s already rallying the investigative crew.”
“Good. I’ve also tentatively reached out to a few trusted board members. The two men and one woman who remember you fondly from your summer internship. I’ll meet them alone first, throw out a few feelers, and see how they respond. If it’s favorable, then we can both meet with them. These three are the most influential. If we can convince them, they will do most of the legwork for us.”
I smile at an associate of my father’s as he passes by with his new, much younger wife. “I can’t imagine Father is all that popular with the board. He’s not a very likable individual.”
“True, but he has most of these people terrorized, so we still need to proceed with caution.” He sips from his drink, his sharp gaze calculating. “Do you think you could get away Sunday night for a meeting? You’re allowed to see Xavier, right?” I nod. “So, tell Charlie you’re hanging with Xavier and meet us at the warehouse. We’ll use the back entrance and hide our cars in the woods in case he’s tracking you or has someone spying. No one will know we are there.”
I lean into Drew, pressing my mouth to his ear. “Is he well enough to go there?” I whisper, not daring to say any more.
Drew angles his head, moving his mouth to my ear. “He’s doing much better now. He’ll be there. It’s killing him being apart from you.”
My heart races and butterflies swarm my chest at the thought of seeing Kai again.
A hand slides around my waist, and I jump, spilling some of my juice on the counter. “What are you two plotting over here?” Charlie asks, narrowing his eyes at Drew in a way that clearly betrays his suspicion.
My blood pressure shoots sky high at his choice of words and the wary look on his face. My palms are suddenly sweaty, and I subtly wipe them down the front of my conservative black dress. I’m opening my mouth to throw out some frivolous lie, when my twin beats me to it.
“Just the usual.” Drew waggles his brows, sipping his whiskey. “World domination. How to eradicate poverty. How to oust Jeff Bezos from the richest man in the world position, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Don’t be glib,” Charlie drawls. “It doesn’t suit you.”
Drew’s gaze skims the room quickly before he moves in closer to Charlie. “We were discussing your predicament,” he says in a low tone.
“What predicament?” Charlie coolly replies.
“Father promised Atticus he could return to the elite and return to Rydeville. It’s happening next week. From what I hear, your mom isn’t in a good place. How do you plan to keep her quiet? She can’t go mouthing off about Atticus being responsible for your dad’s murder,” Drew says.
I jump on the bandwagon. “And it’s not like you can tell her the truth, so what are you going to do?”
