Right. Because the Rosie and Maisie drama isn’t enough of a side quest for today. “Did he say why he wanted to talk to me?”
Tibby shakes her head. “Only that it was important.”
“Everything’s important when you’re stuck in prison,” says Kit testily, and he pours us both cups of tea, adding the perfect amount of milk to mine.
“You don’t owe it to him. You don’t owe him anything at all,” adds Tibby. “His trial is soon—he may just be trying to delay, or to get some press coverage to spout whatever shite he thinks might get him off.”
“Probably. But what if there really is something important?” I counter.
“And he’s just remembered, despite having had half a year to do nothing but think?” Tibby gives me a look. “Even if hedidhave important information he’s been holding back, that doesn’t mean you have to respond to him with any urgency. He’s responsible for the deaths of at least eight people. He doesn’t get to make demands on his victims.”
I start to reach for my cup, but stop short at that. Is that how Tibby sees me? Sees Kit? As his victims?
“It could be a trap,” says Kit. “Or some sort of mind game.”
Tibby snorts. “I certainly wouldn’t put it past him.”
Neither would I, but it still doesn’t feel right. And as I mull it over, something sparks in my mind. “What ifhe’sthe desperate one?” I say suddenly. “What if…”
My gaze darts to Kit’s, and my heart begins to pound. Heholds my stare for a long moment, his lips pursing. “You think he’ll give up Ben,” he says, and it isn’t a question.
“Maybe,” I say, itching to stand up and pace. I’m onto something. I have to be. “He knows that’s why I was in Oxford, and he must know I won’t help him otherwise. If there’s even a chance he’ll offer evidence…” I swallow hard. “Kit. This could be it.”
“I know,” he says softly. And I can tell from the way he averts his eyes that he also knows nothing in the world will stop me from making that trip if there’s even the remotest possibility we’re right.
“Then you can talk to him all you want,” says Tibby, “tomorrow.Today’s all booked up, and if you try to play that royal renegade game with me, Iwillhave a PPO sit on you until it’s time for the premiere. Youcannotmiss it, Evangeline. There is simply too much to do before then to fit in a trip to the bloody nick—”
“Okay, all right, fine,” I say, picking up my fork and stabbing a hardboiled egg. “Tomorrow, then. It’ll give me a day to figure out what to say to him.”
“I’ll make the arrangements,” says Tibby, mollified. “Kit? Shall I include you in these plans?”
He’s quiet at first, and I look at him again as he shifts uncomfortably beside me, his gaze locked on the rim of his cup. “Yes,” he says at last. “I’ll go. I have a few things I’d like to say to him, too.”
“About Liam?” I say, and Kit nods, but he still doesn’t look at me. Just like we don’t talk about Ben, we don’t talk about John Phillip Michaels, either.
But maybe this is our chance for closure. We didn’t get it inOxford, but maybe confronting John will offer us that sense of finality. Of a job well done, or at least of a jobdone.It’ll show us that this wasn’t all for nothing, and that has to be worth the anticipation of facing him one last time before we do our best to forget he ever existed. Even if we risk causing yet another wound between us, one that might never heal completely.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I’m Samuel Frick, and this is Ashleigh Wallace, and we are here on the red carpet in London for the premiere ofRebel, Princess, Terrorist, Spy,one of the most anticipated movies of the year—”
“One of the most anticipated movies of our lifetime! Look at this crowd! Thousands have gathered here in Leicester Square, where the stars of the big screen are joined by real-life royalty from around the world!”
“And speaking of real-life royalty, it looks like the British royal contingent are arriving now. Ashleigh, who are you most excited to meet tonight?”
“Evangeline, of course! Her and Lord Clarence—can you think of a more stunning couple?”
“None come to mind. Considering they’re one of the most photographed couples in the world, it’s no wonder they’re so fierce about protecting their—”
“Oh my god! Is that Princess Mary? And—First Son Thaddeus Park?Did you know they were dating?”
“No clue, Ashleigh. But they’re gorgeous together, aren’t they? Her Royal Highness’s couture gown is simply breathtaking—”
“Did he just kiss her hand?Did he just kiss her hand?”
“We’ll find out all the details as soon as they make their way to us. Oh, thoseheels! We’ll also ask who she’s wearing, and if she considered a tiara for the evening, though she seems to have opted for a lovely diamond comb instead—”
“The other car! Is that Queen Helene? Or—well, former Queen, though I’m not sure we know what her title is now that the royal divorce has been finalized. But that’s definitely the Duke of York, gorgeous as ever. It’s lovely to see them looking so happy together. And—who’s that with them?”
