I laughed until I wasn’t laughing so much as sobbing again, dry and silent. I heard my mother giggling, and that somehow blended perfectly with my racking pain. I couldn’t explain it, but as horrible and hopeless as I felt, my mother’s presence—complete with all her little quirks and admonitions that drove me insane—was just what I needed.
With my hands on my cramping stomach, I took a deep cleansing breath. “Did he arrange it?” I asked softly.
Her smiled faded. “Who? Richard? Arrange what? The money? Oh . . .”
I waited.
“No!” she protested. “He wouldn’t. His mind doesn’t work that way.”
“Okay. I just had to know.” I couldn’t see Stanton ordering a hit, either. But Gideon . . .
I knew from his nightmares that his desire for vengeance was colored by violence. And I’d seen him fight Brett. The memory was seared in my mind. Gideon was capable, and with his history—
I took a deep breath, then blew it out. “How much do the police know?”
“Everything.” Her eyes were soft and wet with guilt. “The seal on Nathan’s records was broken when he died.”
“And how did he die?”
“They didn’t say.”
“I suppose it’s not important. We have a motive.” I ran my hand through my hair. “It probably doesn’t matter that we didn’t personally have the opportunity. Your time is accounted for, isn’t it? And Stanton’s?”
“Yes. And yours, too?”
“Yes.” But I didn’t know about Gideon’s. Not that it mattered. No one would expect men like Gideon and Stanton to get their hands dirty cleaning up a mess like Nathan.
We had more than one motive—the blackmail and revenge for what he’d done to me—and means, and means gave us the opportunity.
*
I brushed my hair again and splashed water on my face, all the while thinking of how I was going to get my mom out of my apartment undetected. When I found her digging through the closet in my bedroom—concerned as always about my style and appearance—I knew what to do.
“Remember that skirt I picked up at Macy’s?” I asked her. “The green one?”
“Oh, yes. Very pretty.”
“I haven’t been able to wear it, because I can’t think of anything I have to go with it. Can you help me find something?”
“Eva,” she said, exasperated. “You should’ve established a personal style by now—and it shouldn’t be sweats!”
“Help me out, Mom. I’ll be right back.” I took my coffee mug with me to have a purpose for leaving her. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Where would I go?” she replied, her voice muffled because she’d stepped deeper into my walk-in closet.
I did a quick check of the living room and kitchen. My dad was nowhere to be seen and his bedroom door was closed, as was Cary’s. I hurried back into my room.
“How’s this?” she asked, holding up a champagne-hued silk blouse. The combination was gorgeous and classy.
“I love it! You rock! Thank you. But I’m sure you have to go now, right? I don’t want to hold you up.”
My mom frowned at me. “I’m not in a hurry.”
“What about Stanton? This has got to be weighing on his mind. And it’s a Saturday—he always reserves his weekends for you. He needs to have the time with you.”
And God, did I feel awful for his stress. Stanton had spent a great deal of his time and money on issues pertaining to me and Nathan over the four years he’d been married to my mother. It was too much to ask of anyone, but he’d come through for us. For the rest of my life, I would owe him for loving my mother so much.
“This is weighing on your mind, too,” she argued. “I want to be here for you, Eva. I want to support you.”
My throat tightened, understanding that she was trying to make amends for what had happened to me because she was unable to forgive herself. “It’s okay,” I said hoarsely. “I’ll be okay. And honestly, I’d feel terrible keeping you away from Stanton after all he’s done for us. You’re his reward, his little piece of heaven at the end of an endless workweek.”
Her lips curved in an enchanting smile. “What a lovely thing to say.”
Yes, I’d thought so, too, the times Gideon had said similar things to me.