He didn’t tell her who’d leaked her arrival.
She and William had been close growing up. Partly because they were the same age and went to the same schools, partly because she’d lived with his parents, Uncle Brooks and Aunt Joanne, when her grandmother was angry with her, which was often, and partly because Max had dated his best friend, Andy Talbot, most of high school. They hung out with the same people. Did the same things.
But they didn’t always see eye-to-eye on family matters, and he’d been the first to jump on the “Kevin O’Neal is guilty” bandwagon after Lindy’s murder.
“Yes, I’m going to Kevin’s funeral tomorrow.”
“But he killed Lindy! I don’t get how you can forgive him so easily.”
“He wasn’t convicted.” William knew that, but it beared repeating.
“Dammit, Maxine! The jury was deadlocked. There wasn’t enough evidence, but we all know he did it.”
Max tilted her chin up and stared William in the eye. “I never believed Kevin killed Lindy.”
“Lindy’s murder has been hanging over the town like the plague,” William said.
“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Maybe now, with Kevin no longer stirring the pot, we can finally move on.”
“Are you upset that I’m here for the funeral, or that you think I’m investigating Lindy’s murder?”
“Are you?” he asked pointedly.
“I didn’t come here to investigate,” Max said. “I promised Jodi I would look at the evidence in Kevin’s suicide. The girl needs peace, William. Kevin was a recovering drug addict. He had a drinking problem. She believed he was sober, but she’ll accept the truth if I can give it to her.” Max paused. “I can’t turn my back on his sister.” Maybe, she thought, because she’d turned her back on Kevin.
“Why didn’t you call me? I could have run interference for you with Dad and Grandmother.”
“Sweetheart,” Max said with a lighter voice, “I’m not going to put you on the firing line. You live here, you need to keep the peace. I appreciate your offer, but I’ve grown up.” She didn’t like gossip as a rule—most of it was based on lies—but William was pretty good at discerning fact from fiction. “Anything I should know before I surprise Grandmother Dearest?”
He scowled. “It’s those kind of comments that get you in trouble with her.”
“Eleanor has a far sharper tongue than I do,” Max said. She’d received the brunt of her grandmother’s verbal lashings many, many times.
“How long are you staying?”
Max had interviewed enough people to know that most questions had a dual purpose. William had come here impulsively, probably had just learned she was in town and checked the Stanford Park Hotel first because this was where she always stayed. But the way he asked about her stay made her think he was nervous, and nerves made her suspicious.
“I haven’t decided.”
“Don’t you have a career in New York?”
“Really, if you want me to leave, just tell me.”
“N-n-no, not that, it’s just, it’s complicated right now.”
“You stutter when you’re nervous.”
He frowned. “Maxine, I would love to spend time with you, you know that. I guess I’m irritated that you haven’t been home to see me or the rest of the family in two years, yet you drop everything for the guy who killed Lindy.”
“Kevin is dead, William,” she said bluntly. “I came for Jodi.” But what he said stung because it had a hint of truth. She added, “Launching the cable show took more time and energy than I thought.”
“But you still wouldn’t have visited.” He sounded more sad than angry because he knew why it was hard for Max to visit. The arguments about the family trust, the lawsuit that the family had waged against her when great-grandmother Genie Sterling’s will gave Max her missing mother’s share of the estate, the constant friction and disagreements between Max and William’s father, her uncle Brooks, that went back years.
William added softly, “Lindy was your friend, too.”
“William, don’t start. Please.” Because Max had sided with Kevin, she’d nearly lost William’s friendship. It was only because they were family that William stuck it out. Over time, they’d mended fences—William was the closest person to a brother she had—but Kevin’s suicide had reminded both of them about that horrible time.
“Fine. I tried to help—”
“Help? By telling me what I already know? It’s always complicated when I come home. It’s why I rarely do. I love my job, I love New York, I’ll never move back. But for better or worse, I’m a Revere, and you and Brooks and Eleanor and everyone else in our big, messed-up family is stuck with me.”
William frowned. “You’re not being fair. I’ve always stood up for you.”
She stared at him, almost not believing he could lie so smoothly.
“You’ve always stood up for me?” She asked it bluntly, and he had the good sense to back down.
“Don’t look at me like that, Maxine. I don’t always agree with you, but you’re family.”
She sighed. Family. William was the most loyal to family, out of all the Reveres, and he included her in there as well. It was, perhaps, ironic that he always stood up for her when it wasn’t a family matter, but as soon as they closed the doors, he slipped comfortably into his role of the good son.
Arguing a subtle point that she wasn’t sure he even understood wasn’t going to make her stay easier. “Truce. Okay?”