“How can you do this to Isabel?” Vernice shouted.
Ethan sighed. Because not once during that kiss had he thought of his late wife. Part of him considered that progress. But that progress certainly wouldn’t please Vernice.
“You’re betraying Isabel’s memory and the vows you made to her,” Vernice continued, and she shifted her venomous attention to Livvy. “And you call yourself her friend. Some friend. You bedded her husband the first chance you got.”
The anger coiled through him. Normally, he kept his mouth shut around Vernice and gave her lots of leeway because she’d lost a child. But there was no amount of leeway for her to go after Livvy like this.
“Livvy didn’t force me to have sex with her,” Ethan snapped.
That stopped Vernice in her tracks, literally. The woman sort of stumbled to a stop. For just a second or two, shock widened her eyes before the fury returned.
“How dare you,” Vernice snarled, her tone as menacing as the glare she was aiming at him.
Livvy lifted her hands in acalm downgesture, and she was no doubt on the verge of trying to placate Vernice. Ethan realized he didn’t want any placating. Yeah, Vernice had lost her daughter, but he’d lost his wife, and while that would stay with him forever, he couldn’t climb into Isabel’s grave with her.
“How dare you,” Ethan fired back. Not with venom, but an icy coldness that he hoped conveyed he wasn’t going to let Vernice run roughshod over Livvy. “Are you here for a reason other than just to spew more of your rage?”
Vernice had already opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She just stood there, gaping at him. Good. At least she wasn’t ranting. But he figured this was just the calm before the storm.
“I’m here,” Vernice finally said, speaking through clenched teeth, “to tell you that I heard Livvy had left the station with you. I thought you might bring her here, to mydaughter’shome, and I wanted you to know that I don’t approve. I don’t want her in my daughter’s bed.”
“She’s not,” Ethan quickly replied. “No one is. Because I got rid of that bed shortly after Isabel died.”
Vernice looked as if he’d struck her. But again, it didn’t cool that anger, and she flung her pointing finger at Livvy. “She could be a killer. Have you thought of that? A killer in my daughter’s house.”
He heard Livvy make a small sound—part groan, part gasp. Vernice had hit a nerve. Damn her.
“It’s time for you to leave,” he told Vernice, and Ethan, too, had to speak through clenched teeth.
But Vernice didn’t budge, and her eyes narrowed to slits when she looked at Livvy’s badge. “You call yourself a cop,” she spat out. “You should be locked away. I know all about those nightmares you have.”
Livvy muttered something he didn’t catch, and Ethan moved in front of her.
“Isabel told me all about them,” Vernice went on. “Nightmares that you have of a dead woman in a bathtub.”
“Isabel told you that?” Livvy asked.
Ethan’s gaze fired to her, ready to tell her that he hadn’t spilled anything about that to Isabel, but she added, “Yes, I did tell her about the nightmares. I didn’t think she’d say anything about them to you.”
“My daughter and I had no secrets from each other.” Vernice hiked up her chin as if that was something to be proud of.
Well, Ethan wasn’t proud. That felt like a betrayal for Isabel to have given those sort of details to her mother.
“No secrets,” he repeated like the accusation that it was. “Such as knowing she was going to a place like New Hope and not stopping her?”
“How was I supposed to stop her?” Vernice snapped. “She had already made up her mind.”
“But you approved of her going,” Ethan said.
Vernice flinched like he’d slapped her. Her mouth fell open, and for a heartbeat, she just stared at him, stunned. “No,” she muttered. “I—I didn’tapprove. I was trying to be supportive.”
She looked away, jaw tightening, and when she spoke again, her voice was lower. Raw. “I thought if I gave her my blessing to go to New Hope, Isabel might come back to me. Whole. Safe.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Fat lot of good that did.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you’d gone with her, if you’d better monitoredwhat she was doing, she’d still be alive. As far as I’m concerned, you’re responsible for her death.”
That comment didn’t surprise Ethan one bit. It was the first time Vernice had out-and-out voiced it, but he had always felt that she blamed him.
And he blamed himself.
But he couldn’t let that guilt take over now, not when it was obvious that Vernice wasn’t finished returning verbal fire.
