Her mind struggled to process what Ben had just suggested as if he’d spoken in a strange language she didn’t understand.
"No." The word escaped her lips before she'd even formed a conscious thought. "No, that's not possible."
The case file was on the coffee table, placed there after their meeting with Cal. She’d made a few notes and tucked them inside the manila folder.
His theory made her want to reach out and open that folder, push it his way, and show him all the reasons he was wrong.
He was so wrong.
"She would have told me." We told each other everything.”
Shit, she sounded defensive as hell. She didn’t have anything to defend. Sure, he’d had an idea, but that didn’t make him right.
Ben didn’t reply, several expressions flitting across his handsome features before settling on something bland and neutral.
"We were like sisters,” she went on. He didn’t speak; she was going to. “We shared clothes, makeup, secrets. We talked about everything. She wouldn't have kept this from me."
"People keep secrets even from those they love most," Ben said finally, his voice gentle. "Sometimes, especially from them."
Kelly stared down at the file on the coffee table. She knew it backward and forwards. She could have recited the statements by heart if she had to. She’d seen all the photos a million times.
Had there been signs she'd missed?
The nausea that wouldn't go away. The sudden health kick. Suddenly stopping drinking and partying?
No. This was absurd. It was a leap based on circumstantial behavior changes that could be explained a dozen different ways.
"Lori and Cal were sexually active, weren't they?"
The question hit with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Of course they were. Everyone knew it, even if it wasn't discussed openly in their small town with its veneer of traditional values. But where there were teenage hormones, there was going to be sex.
"We weren't angels," Kelly admitted. "None of us were."
"I'm not judging," Ben replied, placing his hand on hers. "I'm just trying to establish if it was possible."
"It was possible." The admission felt like a betrayal to Lori somehow. "But that doesn't make it true."
"No, it doesn't," Ben agreed. "But it’s a theory that I can’t seem to shake, and I wouldn’t bring it up unless I think it was a real possibility. The symptoms Cal described, the nausea, the fatigue, the sudden health consciousness. The stopping drinkingand smoking. And most telling, her urgency about marriage and settling down."
He just didn’t understand. He hadn’t been there. She couldn’t blame him, after all, she was the one who had brought him here. He was only trying to help.
"If she were pregnant, why wouldn't she have told Cal?" Kelly challenged. "He said they had a fight about marriage, and then she dropped it. That doesn't sound like someone who's pregnant and desperate to get married."
"Or maybe she realized he wasn't ready, and she was figuring out what to do next," Ben suggested. "Maybe she was planning to tell you, but hadn't worked up the courage yet. Then it was too late."
Something cold settled in Kelly's stomach. Was it possible that Lori had secrets? Secrets that she didn’t tell Kelly?
No. Not this. Not something this big.
"Lori was practical," Kelly argued, grabbing onto this thought like a lifeline. "If she were pregnant, she would have had a plan. She wouldn't have just kept it to herself, crossed her fingers, and hoped for the best."
"Maybe she did have a plan," Ben said. "Maybe she was going to tell people once she'd figured out what she wanted to do. Maybe she was planning to tell you that weekend at the mall."
The weekend she’d never made it to. The weekend she’d died.
Kelly's throat tightened again. She reached for her wine glass, taking a long swallow to ease the sudden dryness.
"It's just a theory," Ben added, his tone softening further. "But it might explain why someone wanted to silence her."
