“You know, you could’ve just called Jake and asked him to speak with Mrs. Talbot,” Theo pointed out.
“Is that what you would’ve done?” She raised one brow.
“That’s not the point,” he replied.
“Yes, it is,” she answered crossly in return. “You know, Theo, I appreciate that people care, but I will not be kept in the dark, and I will not be coddled. Jake’s most basic instinct is to protect the people he cares about and I get it, but I won’t have people making my decisions for me.”
“Stubborn.”
“Yes, I am. I love Jake like a brother, but he doesn’t understand what this feels like. It’s one thing knowing that your father killed your mother in a crazy fit of passion, or whatever the hell it was, but it’s another thing entirely to think he is a cold-blooded serial killer. I need the truth.”
“Even if it puts you in harm’s way?”
“Even then.” Olivia picked up the paper napkin from the table, twisting it and tearing off little strips. “I remember my father being such a loving man. He was so tall and strong. He’d sweep me off my feet and carry me on his shoulders, spend hours curled up on my bed with me, telling me stories of English kings and queens, Joan of Arc, Rome, Pompeii, the Ottoman Empire. He made history come alive for me, and I treasured those moments we spent together. Up until the night my mother died, I never thought for a moment he could have such violence in him. The man I knew was kind and gentle, and they want me to believe he’s a psychopath? I have to find out what really happened, to those men who were murdered, and the night my mother died. I can’t just sit back and let others find the answers for me. This—all of this—is too personal. Can you understand that?”
“Yes, I can understand that, but I don’t have to like it,” Theo replied. “I can’t help wanting to protect you.”
“I get that.” She shook her head. “But I will not be shielded from the truth, and I will not be told what to do… by anyone.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” Theo frowns.
A shadow suddenly fell over the table, and Olivia found herself looking up into the permanently dissatisfied expression of Mrs. Eustacia Bailey, lips pursed, hands folded tightly in front of her. Looking both resigned and apologetic, Jonathan Bailey stood next to her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bailey,” Olivia said politely. “Mr. Bailey.”
“Good evening, Olivia, dear.” Mr. Bailey smiled warmly.
“This is my friend, Theodore Beckett,” Olivia introduced them. “Theo, this is Mr. and Mrs. Bailey. They own the convenience store.”
“We’ve met.” Theo nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, I hope that you are well.”
Mrs. Bailey gave Theo a speculative look before turning her full attention back to Olivia.
“I have something to say to you, Olivia, and as you know, I’m a woman who speaks her mind. I won’t say anything behind your back that I won’t say to your face.”
“I’ve always appreciated that about you, Mrs. Bailey,” Olivia replied.
“Fact is, I don’t believe you had anything to do with those murders.”
Olivia opened her mouth, then abruptly shut it again. That certainly wasn’t what she was expecting.
“Despite what your father did to your mother,” she continued with all the eloquence and delicacy of a hammer, “you were always a good girl, had a good nature, and I just don’t believe the little girl I knew would do such a horrible thing, and anyone who says different is an idiot.”
“Um, thank you.” Olivia blinked. “That means a lot.”
“Yes, well.” She puffed herself up to her full height of five foot two. “I may be a gossip, I won’t deny it, but no one can ever accuse me of being a fool.”
“That’s true.” Olivia watched the older woman, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.
“Liddy Mayberry has just started baking.” She switched subjects so fast that Olivia almost got whiplash.
“Uh, good for her?”
“Her youngest has left the nest, and she’s finding herself at a bit of a loose end and has taken to baking pastries and cakes. She has a fair hand with it if I do say so myself. Jonathan and I have been selling them for her in the store.”
“That’s kind of you.” Olivia’s gaze softened.
“I’m rather partial to her brownies.” Mr. Bailey winked.
