Eager to get on with it, her brain paged through a thousand notes, freezing on one that was high on the bothering-Dawn list. “You kept Eva’s crime-scene photo. Why?”
Frank looked ill at being called on retaining it. “All those times I locked myself away with the bottle, I was keeping myself company with that picture. Thought I should’ve been able to save Eva and beat myself up about why it’d happened. Now I know it was all a part of the vampire act, but back then, her murder was real to me. I felt so guilty whenever I started to throw that picture away, so I never did. It would’ve been like tossing her out, too, and I couldn’t.” He glanced up at Dawn, shame filtering his gaze. “I can’t.”
She’d spent so long clinging to Eva, too. But it wasn’t right, forgiving her, allowing her back in.
“You were questioned for her murder,” she said. “You’re not angry about that? She could’ve gotten you jailed or worse.”
“She told me everything was taken care of—it was guaranteed that I wouldn’t get into trouble with the law. And I was cleared.”
Underground Servants. Were there any on the police force? Had to be. “So that makes what she did all hunky-dory—”
“I’m sorry.” Now he was watching her with pity. “I’m sorry for making you this way.”
Struck so hard, she couldn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” he added, “for making you so hateful and self-destructive. I tried to protect you from becoming her. But I made you hate her, didn’t I? I gave you…” He searched for a phrase.
“An inferiority complex?” Dawn bit out. “You loved the dead Eva more than you did me. That’s what I thought half the time. But”—she held up a hand—“I’m over that, Frank.”
Are you? his lingering gaze asked.
She glared. Yes.
“You grew up with a lousy drunk for a pop, at any rate.”
Almost silently, the door clicked open, and Dawn went on alert. Frank remained calm and resigned.
Julia stood in the entrance, armed with the dart gun. Hopefully it was a dart gun. All the same, it kept Dawn from charging ahead.
Then Eva glided past the Servant—Dawn had no doubt about what Julia was—and into the room. Her stylish dress rustled to a standstill, so cool and chic. She had a hopeful tenseness to her posture.
Dawn just stared at her, hard as rock.
Clearing her throat, Eva made a conciliatory gesture to her daughter. “Breisi keeps calling on your phone.”
Fishing for more information about what exactly Breisi was to them both, huh? Eva had been listening in.
“I want to talk to her,” Dawn said. “She might have news about Kiko. I would think you might care about that but…oh, yeah. You’re dead.”
“Not now, Dawn.” Eva sounded so damned maternal. There was even a flash of worry about Kiko somewhere in there. “You know I can’t give you the phone.”
“Why? Because I’m your captive?”
“I wish you wouldn’t look at it that way.”
Dawn laughed, sending Julia into a grimace so horrendous that she almost turned Dawn all the way to stone.
“Right.” She shot Frank a glance. Can you believe this woman? “I’m your ‘guest.’ Thank you for your hospitality. It rocks.”
Now it was Eva’s turn to give Frank a look. It was an expression between parents who didn’t know how to handle their willful child.
Then Frank met Dawn’s horrified reaction. His shoulders sank.
“Don’t you want me to talk to Breisi?” Dawn asked him.
“Yeah.” He lowered his head. “I do.”
Eva took a loaded step forward. “Frank?”
“Don’t get on his case,” Dawn said. “Breisi’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him—and that’s including your heartwarming resurrection.”
Julia, half of her face now a hardening field of sores from her tussle with the Friend, finally spoke up. “Eva could’ve been a queen Underground. But she just wants you two back.”
“Imagine that.” Dawn aimed her temper at Julia. “And I want to discover my very own gold mine. I want to rule Texas and make all the beauty queens run around with donkey ears. But most of all, I want to get the hell out of here with my dad. Do you think I’ll get what I want?”
Julia actually raised the gun at Dawn, but Eva slapped it down.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” the Servant quickly said, bending her head.
Clearly flustered, Eva opened her arms to her daughter. “You’ll see how much I love you. Maybe it’ll take time, but I made the right choice for all of us.”
“You want to make us all like Robby, your little pervert costar, Eva. Don’t tell me that’s the pinnacle of happiness.”
“But—”
“Get. Away.”
Mouth agape, Eva hesitated, then gathered composure. “Okay. All right, then, I’ll give you a rest. It’s been a strange day.”
And with that, she left in a flutter of flowing skirts.
Still looking down, Julia bolted the door behind her while Dawn sat on the floor near Frank.
“Delusional,” Dawn muttered, hoping her dad would agree.
But he didn’t say a word. Not a goddamned word.
TWENTY
THE SOUND OF LAUGHTER