“Want coffee?”
“How wifely. I would, yes. Thanks.”
“I was getting some for me anyway.”
She heard him laugh as she started out, then she stopped by the board again. If Trudy had income from blackmail, money tucked away, just how much would Bobby inherit now?
A nice boost to his business, she imagined.
She thought briefly of the boy who’d snuck a sandwich into her room when she’d been alone and hungry. How he’d done so without a word, with the faintest of smiles and a finger to his lips.
Then she got coffee, and prepared to find out if he’d killed h
is own mother.
* * *
Chapter 14
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SHE WAS STANDING IN A ROOM, BRILLIANTLY lit, drinking champagne with a group of women. She recognized their faces. The California lawyer was drinking right from the bottle and doing a hip-swinging dance in high red heels. Carly Tween was sitting on a stool with a tall back, sipping delicately while she rubbed her enormous belly with her free hand.
The others—the others who’d been like her—were all chattering the way women do at girl parties. She’d never been fluent in the language of fashion and food and men, so she drank the frothy wine and let the sounds roll over her.
Everyone was duded up. She herself was wearing the same outfit she’d donned for the holiday party. Even in the dream—even knowing it was a dream—her feet ached.
Part of the room was sectioned off, and there the children they’d been sat, watching the party. Hand-me-down clothes, hungry faces, hopeless eyes—all closed off from the lights, the music, the laughter by a sheer glass wall.
Inside it, Bobby served the children sandwiches, and they ate ravenously.
She didn’t belong here, not really. She wasn’t one of them, not quite. And the others sent her quick, sidelong glances, and whispered behind their hands.
Still, it was she who walked first to the body that lay on the floor in the middle of the celebration. Blood stained Trudy’s nightgown and congealed on the glossy floor.
“She’s really not dressed for it,” Maxie said, and smiled as she chugged down more champagne. “All the money she carved out of us, you’d think she could afford a nice outfit. It’s a fricking party, isn’t it?”
“She didn’t plan to be here.”
“You know what they say about plans.” She gave Eve an elbow nudge. “Loosen up. We’re all family here, after all.”
“My family’s not here.” She looked through that sheer glass, into the eyes of children. And wasn’t so sure. “I’ve got a job to do.”
“Suit yourself. Me, I’m going to get this party started.” Maxie turned the bottle over, gripped the neck in both hands, and with a wild laugh smashed it against Trudy’s already shattered head.
Eve leapt forward, shoved her back, but the others swarmed in. She was knocked down, kicked aside, trampled as they fell on the body like dogs.
She crawled clear, struggled to stand. And saw the children behind the glass. Cheering.
Behind them, she saw the shadow, the shape that was her father.
Told you, didn’t I, little girl? Told you they’d toss you into the pit with the spiders.
“No.” She jerked, struck out when someone lifted her.
“Easy now,” Roarke murmured. “I’ve got you.”
“What? What?” With her heart skittering, she shook herself awake in his arms. “What is it?”