Chapter 11

We decided that Liza would meet me back at home that evening. Most of the locks had been changed or recalibrated during the renovation and—even if Liza had kept her set of house keys—she couldn’t have gotten in.

Frances offered to escort my sister out of the mansion with such cloying consideration that she couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d chased her out with a stick. With one brow arched dramatically—another move Liza couldn’t possibly have missed—Frances smiled, showing teeth. “This way, dearie. I know a shortcut.”

When they were gone, I turned to Hillary. “Whatever you do, don’t trust her,” I said.

Hillary crossed her arms and leaned one hip against my desk. “So I gathered. What happened between you?”

Emotion tumbled over me, sucking me under like a rip current after a killer wave. Liza’s sudden appearance had reignited old pain, heaving buried resentment from tight, protected places in my heart. The effort it had taken to keep my temper in check was now exacting its toll. I sat.

“It’s a long story,” I said slowly. “One that probably started when we were little. I always wanted to love and trust my sister, but I don’t. I suppose I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I never will.”

“That’s sad,” she said, without compassion. “Do you really think it’s fair that you got your family’s house and she didn’t?”

I looked up at Bennett’s stepdaughter and wondered if she was regarding me the same way Liza did. Bennett had made little secret of the fact that despite my many and vocal objections, he intended to name me heir to his estate—a status Hillary had been jockeying for, for years. My familial position, if DNA confirmed it, would usurp Hillary’s. I wanted nothing but to keep Bennett in my life forever. I wished talk of heirs and estates and bequeathing property would just go away.

Too tired to do anything but answer honestly, I said, “I think my mother knew us both well enough to make the decisions she did. If Liza had gotten the house she would have sold it on the spot, probably for even less than her cash settlement. She would have frittered away her windfall, leaving her in exactly the same mess she is in now. The only difference is that the house would have been lost to the family. Our mom knew me. Knew I’d keep it.”

Hillary straightened from her perch. “Good thing she left it to you then,” she said. “Otherwise I may have never had the chance to renovate.”

I felt a smile work its way to my lips. That was the Hillary I knew.

“One more thing,” I said as she started to leave.

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Don’t tell Liza about the DNA test, okay?”

Hillary wrinkled her nose. “What happens if you and Bennett are related?” she asked after a thoughtful moment. “Will you tell her then?”

“I don’t want to. Liza will do everything in her power to weasel favors from Bennett. She’s relentless.”

“But if she is family, Bennett will know.”

“At this point, there’s no proof so we have to keep it quiet.” Frustrated, I ran my fingers up my head, grabbing handfuls of hair. Squeezing, I fought the fear twisting my stomach. “I should never have agreed to the test.” I clenched my eyes. “I should have told him no. Now how can I protect him?”

Hillary said nothing. I sat there, eyes shut, for an extended moment.

I opened them to see Hillary regarding me with a curious expression. “You really do love Bennett for himself and not for his money, don’t you?”

I nodded.

She reached forward to pat me on my forearm. “You will have to tell him that your sister showed up. And when the results come in, you’ll have to tell her the truth, too.”

“Do you have any idea what she’ll do with that information?”

Hillary looked as serene as I’d ever seen her. “He tamed me, Grace. You watched it happen. My stepfather is a shrewd man, not easily bulldozed.”

“He’s also desperate for family,” I said, not wanting to point out how long it had taken him to effect her taming. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

She made a so-so motion with her head, acknowledging the point. “I won’t say a word to your sister about the DNA test, and I’ll let you worry about how to keep her out of trouble. But as for Papa Bennett?” She knocked her knuckles against my desk. “Don’t underestimate him. He hasn’t gotten where he is by being a fool, you know.”

“You’re right,” I said. “But until I figure out how to deal with the consequences, I’m going to do my very best to keep Liza and Bennett apart.”

“It’s interesting.”

“What is?” I asked.

“You,” she said. “You’re always the one in charge. The one who’s so sure of herself.”

I nearly blurted, “Me?” but stopped myself from interrupting.

“It’s interesting to see you vulnerable.” She waved neat, manicured fingers in the air. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m enjoying it. Well, maybe a teensy bit. I’m seeing a different side of you.” She wrinkled her nose again. “Makes you a little more likeable. A little less perfect.”

“Perfect?” I did laugh then. “Hardly.”

“To Bennett you are. I can’t begin to compete.”

“It’s not a competition.”

Hillary brought her face closer to mine. “You’re a class act,” she whispered, “and Bennett recognizes that. I wasn’t ever his favorite person in the world, but when you showed up, I no longer stood a chance.”

I wanted to reassure her otherwise, but she sensed the interruption and stopped me.

“You may be a decade younger than I am, but you’ve become a role model.” Straightening, she shimmied her hands down her hips to smooth her skirt, then fixed me with a pointed glare. “Tell anyone I said that and I will make your life miserable.”

The honesty in Hillary’s eyes as she’d spoken, however, made it clear she’d been sharing from the heart.

I was blown away by her candor. Enough to offer some of my own. “When I came back to Emberstowne, my life fell apart.” I managed a weak smile. “It’s been a long journey, but I’m better. Working at Marshfield helped, but it was Bennett and his belief in me that allowed me to recognize my own strength. I’m hardly perfect, but I am happy here. With him. With all of you.”

Hillary got a faraway look in her eyes. “Bennett has been good to me, even though I haven’t always been kind to him. Bringing me back here and cutting off my funds may have been one of the best things he’s ever done for me.” Making eye contact with me again, she added, “He takes care of family, doesn’t he?”

Doing my best to ignore the knot in my stomach, I nodded.

Moments after Hillary left, I heard Frances return to her office. There was enough noise to alert me she wasn’t alone.

“Guess who I found downstairs looking for you?” she asked. “You are Miss Popularity today, aren’t you?” Flynn and Rodriguez followed Frances in.

“Detectives, so good to see you.” Their unexpected appearance flooded me with pleasure, taking me by surprise. “How are you?” What did it say about me that, after a clash with my sister, homicide detectives were a welcome sight?

Confused by my warm greeting, Flynn didn’t answer. He ran a hand along his shaved head. Rodriguez, however, broke into a giant smile. “Miz Wheaton,” he responded in kind. “Gorgeous day, isn’t it?”

I turned to face the windows, noting the overcast sky, graying snow, and general dreariness of Marshfield’s expansive grounds. A dismal scene. To a man who’d recently faced his own mortality, however, every day on earth was a magnificent gift.

“Absolutely,” I said.

Frances interrupted. “Sure, beautiful. All that snow, the cold, the slush, the lack of sunshine. Yeah, I see it.” When she rolled her eyes, I got the impression that Flynn was tempted to high-five her.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” I asked as we settled ourselves.

Frances waved a hand in the air. “Coffee all around, I assume,” she said, and was out the door before any of us could respond. From the other room she shouted, “Don’t discuss anything interesting. I’ll be back in a second.”

Flynn sat on the edge of his chair, hands clasped. “Sorry to disappoint your sidekick,” he said, “but we do have news and we plan to get right into it.”

“About the man who was killed in the neighbor’s yard?”

“The same,” he said.

“First though,” Rodriguez said, interrupting his partner, “we couldn’t find anything on that woman who visited your house. Ran her name. Nothing popped.”

“No record, then?”

“Or it’s an alias. Most likely she simply had bad information. If she shows up again, let me know.”

“Will do.”

Frances bustled back in carrying a silver tray laden with four cups of coffee and an assortment of cookies and treats. Her breath rasped with effort and the ceramic mugs jiggled against each other as she hurried to lay the tray on my desk before us.

“No way, Frances,” I said. “No way you poured coffee and arranged snacks that quickly. It’s not humanly possible.”

Flynn had already brought a steaming mug to his lips, but grinned before he took a sip. “Who says she’s human?”

Frances narrowed her eyes at him. “Next time maybe I’ll find something special to add to yours.” She turned to me with a self-satisfied expression. “When I found these two downstairs, I called to the kitchen to send this up.” Again to Flynn, she said, “Of course I don’t know why I bother when my efforts go unappreciated.”

“I appreciate you, Frances,” I said. When she turned back, clearly smug, I thought about the unwavering support she’d shown less than an hour earlier. “I really do.”

She took up a perch on the nearby sofa, her favorite spot for listening in when the local detectives came to call. She wiggled backward into the cushions, lifted her chin, and blinked expectantly. “You can go ahead now.”