"I make sure Ashton wants for nothing more than me."
Unsure what to say to that, I took another drink and nodded.
She smiled and lifted her own drink to her mouth, her large diamond sparkling in the sun. "Have I ever told you how Ashton and I met? No? Well… I was walking home late from work a rainy evening, a restaurant I used to wait tables at, and this giant Great Dane jumped on me. It knocked me to the ground, dug its teeth into my shoulder." She pulled down her blouse to show me. "Here, you can see the scar. The beast had gone into a frenzy, spooked by something I must have done. I kicked, screamed, but the Great Dane kept me pinned down. And then I felt the weight lift from my back, the jaw unclasp my shoulder. I turned over on the wet cement. A man had the dog by the neck, strangling it. He eased up, and once again the dog snapped at me. And so the man smothered it. He let go, the dog lying limp in his hands, and helped me stand. He called the medics and they saw to me. They said the dog was dead. The man would face charges.
"I thanked him for saving me. It was Ashton. Later, I learned the dog had been his."
I shuddered at the thought of such viciousness. "Dogs don't usually attack like that."
She shook her head. "No. They don't. Perhaps the Great Dane had inherited some of Ashton's spirit. Perhaps it had grown fearless. Perhaps it had grown to ignore the rules."
I pushed my luck and asked the question that had been burning in my mind since I read my mother's notes. "Have you ever heard of Alpha Pi Omega?"
Louise smirked. "Is that some kind of sorority?"
"Just something I heard in school."
Mr. Davenport called from across the yard. "Louise, come here."
Louise didn't give any indication of hearing him.
"I think your husband wants to talk to you," I said.
"I like to make him wait." She smiled. "It keeps them interested." After a few more moments she stood and sashayed over to her husband.
Jon quickly took her place, sitting beside me.
"How are you?" he asked.
"Better than you."
He chuckled and touched his black eye. "Yeah, still pretty sore."
I saw Ash watching us from the grill and smiled at him, while speaking to Jon. "If I were you, I'd stay away right now. He's not your biggest fan."
"I need your advice on a personal matter."
"Don't you have a 1-900 service for that?"
"Haha. No, it regards something I believe you have experience in." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Is it always right to share the truth, or are some things better left unsaid?"
"The truth can hurt," I said, "but so can lies. I suppose you have to decide what would hurt less."
"And how do I do that?"
I looked at him, his blue eyes so intent and needful. "I don't know."
He sighed and stood to leave. "Thank you. You've made me certain of one thing."
"What's that?"
"I'm tired of lying."
Chapter Eleven
Grieving
PRESENT DAY
I SQUEEZED BRIDGETTE'S hand, thinking through my response before speaking. It seemed unlikely that Mr. Davenport killed his son just because he might expose his affair with Bridgette's mom. But I didn't know what kind of pre-nup the Davenports had, and I still had my mom's warning blaring in my mind that the Davenports would cause her death.
I assumed one or more of the Davenports was a part of her secret club, that more information about the identities of the group members was on those destroyed sections. But I'd only pulled out one name. Still, I had clues I could follow, leads I could explore. People I definitely suspected.
"Bridge, I'm so sorry about your mom. But I don't think Mr. Davenport killed his son. And I don't think you telling Jon had anything to do with his murder." She sucked in a sob, and I turned to her. "I know you're not okay, so I won't even ask. But is there anything I can do to help ease your pain?"
"No. I just need time. Time to grieve, time to figure out what to do next. Just time."
Taking the hint, I kissed her cheek, tucked her back in and let myself out quietly as she sunk back into her own despair. I wished I could pull her out of it, but I knew all too well that grief is something each person has to work through on their own.
Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont weren't home, and I was happy to avoid any awkward run-ins with the couple I'd always considered family but who, it turned out, hadn't felt the same way about me. At least her dad didn't. He still held my mother's choices against me, as if I had anything to do with the legal allegiances my mother chose so long ago.
As I unlocked the door to my Jaguar—Ash's gift to me—I spotted a familiar car out of the corner of my eye and turned to confront the man inside.
The P.I. rolled down his window and didn't even pretend to make excuses.
I leaned in, resting my elbows on the car door. "Shouldn't you be out investigating Jon's death?"
"My client values your safety more than he values answers, it would appear. But don't worry, I do a lot from my computer and phone, so I'm still working while I wait in the car."