Bailey tried not to flinch. Unsuccessfully, she knew by the gleam that came into Raine’s eyes.
“Bull’s-eye.” Smiling, Raine brought her glass to her lips. “You’re not a dumb woman, at least.”
“And you’re not a nice one.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why you?”
“I have no idea. But you do. Or you think you do.”
“You won’t like it.”
“I can handle it.”
“Because young women are starry-eyed. And gullible. And fall so very easily into love.”
“We’re dumb, is that what you’re saying?”
“Some are. Not you. Impetuous maybe. A bit desperate.”
That last hurt, Bailey hoped she kept it from showing.
“Did he tell you that he kept True a secret from us, as well? Oh, I see by your expression that he didn’t.” She smiled. “No worries, sweet Bailey, their courtship was quite different. He didn’t fly off to a Caribbean island and come home with a wife.”
“That’s a relief.”
Raine smiled at Bailey’s sarcasm. “She was a nail tech. Another under-achiever. Like you, no family. Or almost none. A crazy, drug-addled mother. True was a Mississippi girl. The Jackson area. They met when Logan was there on business. Dated several months, married in Vegas, then voilà! Raine had a sister.”
“You didn’t like her.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She blinked against them and whirled away. “Everyone loved True. Me included.”
“Why’d she leave him? What went wrong?”
She stopped, her back to Bailey. “Do you really want to do this?”
“This?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Peek under that rock? See what’s hiding there in the dark?”
“Yes.”
Raine’s shoulders drooped, as if all the fight had left her. She sank onto the stool in front of a large, dark painting. The one she had been working on, Bailey thought.
For long moments, she simply gazed at it. Then she spoke. “I don’t know. Though it nearly beat him.”
“I won’t hurt him, Raine. I promise you.”
“But what about you?” She looked over her shoulder at Bailey. “Death follows him. That’s what they say, you know. That death follows us, this family.”
Chill bumps raced up her arms. Bailey steeled herself against them. “I know. I think people are being cruel, saying that.”
“You heard it in town.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not surprised.” Raine turned back to the painting. “All dead. Mama and Roane. Daddy. True,” she added, voice barely a whisper.
The blood began to thunder in Bailey’s head. “What did you say?”
When Raine didn’t respond, Bailey took a step toward her. “You said True’s name. But True’s not dead.”
For a moment, Raine simply gazed at her painting as she sipped her wine. Then, without looking at her, she said, “Or so you’ve been told.”
“Stop it.”
“Who will be next? You?”
“Enough!”
“I’m just being honest. Isn’t that why you came here today?”
“That’s not what you’re doing and we both know it.”
A smile touched her lips. “Shaken, I see. Poor little Bailey. You should run now. While you still have the chance.”
This had been a mistake, Bailey acknowledged. Coming here. Thinking anyone both as brilliant and unstable as Raine would do anything but toy with her.
“I thought you might care enough for your brother to help me. But I did learn something and I thank you for that.”
Bailey set her cup on a workbench and crossed to the door. When she reached it, she stopped. “Just so you know, you can’t chase me away. I’m here to stay.”
“Bailey?” She met the other woman’s eyes. “Roane hung himself. On our sixteenth birthday.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The night had gobbled up the last of the sun. The cold, damp air chilled Bailey clear to her bones. She climbed out of her SUV and hurried to her front door.
“Roane hung himself. On our sixteenth birthday.”
She stepped inside. Darkness greeted her. And cold. She shivered and flipped on the foyer light. Light washed over her, but not warmth.
What must that feel like? Every new birthday, being reminded of the twin you’d had. And lost. Even the thought of it grabbed tightly ahold of her diaphragm.
Bailey struggled to breathe past it and crossed to the thermostat, nudged the temperature up.
And what of Logan? How had the loss affected him?
Tears stung her eyes and she glanced at her watch. Just after six. Logan had said the council meeting was at seven, maybe she could catch him before he went in?
She dug her phone out of her purse and dialed. He answered immediately.
“Logan, it’s me.”
She sounded shaky, even to her own ears.
“Are you okay?” Immediate concern, an edge of panic in his voice.
She shouldn’t have called until she’d pulled herself together.
“Bailey?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. I just … needed to hear your voice.”
“I miss you, too. How’s Henry?”
“Stable. They’re keeping him overnight. Stephanie’s with him.”
“Good. You’re home?”
“Yes.” She paused. “But it’s cold.”
“Light a fire in the keeping room. It’s gas. The key’s on the mantel.”
“I wish you were home.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound very strange.”
“I went to see … Raine. She told me about your brother. About Roane.”
He was silent. She heard the murmur of voices coming from around him. Finally, he cleared his throat. Even so, when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I’m sorry, I … hate that you found out that way. I should have—”
“It’s okay. I get it.” She realized her lips were trembling and she pressed them together a moment. “It’s me who’s … I’m so sorry, Logan. I can only imagine how much that hurt. How much it still must hurt.”
Someone said his name, called him into the meeting. “You have to go.”
“I do, baby. I’m sorry. About this and now. It’s going to be a few more hours.”
“I’ll wait up.”
Then he was gone. And she was bereft. Left with nothing to hold on to but Raine’s ugly words. The image they cast in her head. The terrible things she had learned earlier. The feeling of betrayal.
She needed Logan. His reassuring arms. The warmth of his body, driving away the cold.