“What holes?” Deirdre said, her voice still annoyingly calm. “Ask me anything. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, Gin. Anything to set your mind at ease.”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “All right, then. Let’s play Twenty Questions. How many times did you think about Finn? Every day, once a week, once a month? How many times did you try to contact him? When? I could go on, but there’s really only one question that matters in the end. Why didn’t you try harder?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“If I had a kid, I would do everything in my power to be a part of his or her life,” I said, my voice as cold as ice. “Not let someone keep me away because of a few threats. But that’s exactly what you’ve done, by your own admission.”
“I know this is difficult for you to accept, Gin, but Fletcher is the reason I stayed away for all these years,” Deirdre said. “He threatened me, just like you said.”
“Bullshit,” I countered. “Fletcher’s been dead for more than a year now. If you were so concerned about Finn and so truly desperate to finally see your son again, then you would have come to town the second you knew that Fletcher was dead. But you didn’t. You didn’t come back to Ashland after the old man died because you had other things to do. You stayed away because you just didn’t fucking care. Not about Fletcher and certainly not about Finn.”
Deirdre gasped, and more tears streaked down her face, as though my words had cut her to the core. I certainly wanted to do that to her with my knives but not in front of my customers. The few folks dining in the restaurant might not have heard my exact words, but the icy rage in my tone had been unmistakable and threatening enough to make them all freeze in their seats, eyes wide, sandwiches and sodas halfway to their lips.
Deirdre wiped away her tears, lifted her chin, and stared back at me. “I know that this is hard for you to accept . . .”
She started her spiel again, but I was tired of listening to her lies, especially the ones she was telling about Fletcher, trying to poison his own son against him. The old man wasn’t here to defend himself, but I was, and I would defend him. And Finn too, whether he liked it or not.
“You should know this,” I said in a cold, hard voice. “When you hurt Finn, I will kill you.”
Deirdre gasped again, her blue eyes widened, and her hand flew to her heart, as though she were truly startled by my poison promise. As if I were Fletcher threatening her all over again, like she claimed. In that moment, I supposed that I was exactly like the old man.
I was okay with that.
Her chin quivered, and her fingers trembled. I wondered if she’d practiced those moves in the mirror. Probably. She was certainly the best con artist I’d ever seen.
But her shocked, scared look had the desired effect on Finn.
“Gin!” he hissed, anger sparking like fireworks in his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Watching out for you,” I snapped. “I can’t believe you’re falling for her lies. If she tells you that Santa Claus is real, are you going to believe that whopper too?”
Finn opened his mouth, but Bria cut him off before he could snap back at me.
“Okay,” she said. “That’s enough. Let’s take a break.”
“I think you’re right,” Deirdre said in a shaking voice.
She started to slide out of the booth but stopped when she realized that I was still sitting at the end of the table, blocking her escape.
“Gin,” Bria said, a sharp note in her voice.
I slowly scooted my chair back and stood up.
Deirdre got out of the booth, being sure to stay out of arm’s reach of me. Smart woman. She gestured at the photos still spread out on the tabletop. “Feel free to look at those as long as you like, Finnegan. I hope that you’ll give me a chance to get to know you. I’d like that more than anything. And I want to get to know your friends too.” She turned toward me. “Even you, Gin. Despite your feelings about me.”
I stared at Deirdre, but she kept giving me that same hurt, wounded look, as though I’d gravely offended her by not swallowing her lies.
Finn slid out of the booth and walked around me. He hesitated, then stepped forward and hugged Deirdre. She seemed startled by the motion, but her arms wrapped around his back, and she hugged him even tighter.
I glared at her all the while, but she didn’t look at me. Of course she didn’t. I wasn’t the one she was conning, so I wasn’t important.
They hugged for a few more seconds before finally breaking apart.
“I’ll call you later,” Finn said. “Maybe we can talk some more then?”
“I’d like that,” she whispered.
He nodded and started to step back, but Deirdre reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. This time, he was the one who seemed startled, but he grasped her fingers and gently squeezed them. She smiled at him again, then grabbed her purse and walked out of the restaurant.
The bell over the front door chimed softly at her passing, but the sound seemed as loud as a gunshot in my mind.
Deirdre Shaw had definitely won this round. Now I just had to figure out how to keep her from winning any more.