Jesus, Max was glad to get out of there and into the sunshine. Her fingers were so cold, they’d shriveled.
She’d left in such haste, her thoughts whirling, that she’d missed a perfect opportunity to ask Prunella about Bud Traynor. After all, Dr. Shale had been his daughter’s psychiatrist. Maybe she had some insight into the man’s influence on the women in his life. Damn, damn and double damn.
It wasn’t like Cameron not to be there to remind her either.
“I was there, my love.”
She pulled her purse around to her middle and dug in the pocket for her keys. “So don’t you think that would have been a pertinent question?”
“You need to start trusting yourself. If that was the place to ask, you would have remembered on your own.”
“God, you’re so mystical, I hate it.” After only a few seconds of searching, she pulled out the car keys triumphantly. “A missed opportunity is a missed opportunity.”
“Ah, but there’s always a second chance.” His voice faded away on the breeze as she turned down the aisle where she’d parked her car.
Her second chance leaned against the trunk of Max’s car.
Jada’s baggy, camel-colored sweatshirt hung like burlap on her tiny frame, her black leggings appeared painted on, and her knee caps stuck out like knobs on a door. Her figure fascinated Max, like a bloody accident you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.
Max stopped three feet from her bumper, pushed her bag securely onto her shoulder, and crossed her arms over her chest.
Neither spoke for several long seconds. Max, anticipating another vitriolic outpouring, fully intended to wait Jada out.
The girl’s stormy eyes had calmed, her face now devoid of expression, much the same as her body had been earlier. “Thanks for sticking up for me in there.”
They were certainly the least expected words. Like the others, Max had accused her of killing her sister.
“I know you didn’t mean it about my killing Bethany.”
Well, actually, Max had, but she let that go for the moment.
“I’m sorry I thought my mom sicced you on me.”
Max waited a little longer, wondering what other gems Jada might come out with.
“You don’t look anorexic.” Jada’s gaze once again swept her from head to toe. Cameron snorted in her ear.
“Not from your vantage point,” Max agreed, then thought about the guilt Prunella Shale was sure consumed Jada Spring. “Did you really hate your sister?”
Jada chewed on the flesh just inside her lower lip, working it. Finally, “I hated that they loved her.”
Max didn’t ask who, she didn’t want to lead. “Are you sure that wasn’t your imagination?”
Unoffended, Jada laughed outright, a hollow sound, her cheeks sinking. “You’ve seen them, my mother, Uncle Bud.” Max’s hackles rose at the mention; Jada didn’t have a clue. “I’m like a non-entity in that house. Unless of course there’s company and maid services are required. No, it’s not my imagination.” She looked off to her right, squinting into the lowering sun. “Why don’t you come for dinner and see for yourself?”
Max’s blood rushed in her ears. “I don’t think your mother would appreciate a guest on such short notice. Especially not when she’s in ...” Max purposely let the sentence trail off.
“In mourning?” Jada rotated her head, stretching her neck, the cartilage popping. “Tomorrow then. Will you come?”
“What about your sister’s funeral?” Why was she fighting this? She should have jumped at the offer to see them all together, to witness all the nuances, to gather information, storing it for later use. Instead she could barely hear over the panic drumming inside her head.
“Funeral’s on Sunday.” Two days away.
Max racked her brain for a plausible excuse. Just saying no wasn’t good enough. She needed proper justification for shutting down yet another opportunity dropped in her lap. A perfect opportunity. An opportunity from heaven.
Jada looked Max straight in the eye. “Uncle Bud loves pretty women. He won’t mind at all. Plus, my mother needs a new obsession.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Of course I said yes. I’ve got to figure what Jada’s game is, don’t I?”
“Maybe she needs a friend.” Cameron’s voice didn’t soothe Max’s frazzled nerve endings.
She snorted. “Jada was always the one with the friends. It was Bethany who needed someone.” Distrust gnawed at Max’s gut. Or was that Bethany’s suspicion?