“I know where Libby’s body is buried,” Addison said into the phone.
“You serious?” Briggs asked. “Where?”
“I’ll tell you, under one condition. Cecilia Belle has been through a lot in her life. So has her sister-in-law, Flora DuPont. They don’t need to be put through anything else when word gets out.”
“I’ll do everything I can to make sure they’re far from the noise these types of situations cause. Believe me, I understand what scrutiny is like. You can trust me. I give you my word.”
Trust.
It was a fickle, fleeting thing.
Still, she’d offer Libby’s location, allowing him a chance to earn the trust she was about to bestow on him. She outlined the story for Briggs in a way that freed Cecilia and Flora from any wrongdoing. Libby was buried beneath the addition to the house. She’d been murdered by Harold, who’d been pressured by Lawrence to take care of the situation when they’d been caught.
Then Scarlett came snooping around. She’d been caught with Libby’s necklace. Lawrence decided she needed to be dealt with and had sent her on a specific errand, which placed her at a quiet intersection where he wouldn’t have trouble making his getaway once the deed was done. He’d only mistook one thing—he didn’t know his daughter would be in the car.
Briggs had more questions than answers Addison couldn’t give them if she wanted to spare Cecilia and Flora from being charged as accessories to murder, or with murder themselves.
“Are you trying to tell me neither one of their wives had any idea what went on?” he asked.
“I’m asking you to leave them out of it. Whether they knew or they didn’t, what Harold and Lawrence did wasn’t their fault. They had no part in the murders.”
“That’s one hell of a condition.”
“It’s been decades, Briggs. Give Scarlett and Libby’s families closure and let that be the end of it.”
“How do you know all this?” he asked.
“It’s better if I don’t say.”
“Better for you?”
“This isn’t about me. I’m not thinking of myself here.”
“What about Lawrence and Harold? Where can I find those two bastards?”
“They’re gone. Lawrence hasn’t lived at the manor for many years. Flora DuPont has been taking care of Cecilia all this time.”
“How am I supposed to—”
“Do you believe in karma, Briggs?” Addison asked.
“I’d like to think it exists. S’pose I don’t, though.”
“I do, and I believe Harold and Lawrence got what they deserved.”
“Think so? Guess you won’t elaborate on that, either.”
He was right.
Best she didn’t.