Best Kept Secret (Rochester Trilogy 3)

“Yes. I do.” I like to think that I would have believed her if she’d come to me before. But I definitely believe her now that she’s come with Jane on her side. For better or for worse, I trust Jane. And she believes this. So I do, too.

Besides, Emily’s here in this bare-bones A-frame with hardly any furniture that must have been cold as hell in the winter and she’s alive. Emily was the only one on that boat with my brother and Joe Causey. I’ll never hear what she has to say if Mateo keeps being an asshat. I put out my hand in the universal gesture for take it fucking easy and turn back to Emily.

“I’m here to listen to you. I want to know what happened.”

It’s more than a want. It’s a need. I need to know what possessed her to hide out here for months. I need to know what made her follow Jane to Houston. I need to know everything. I’ve spent these months completely out of my depth, and I need answers.

Emily glares at Mateo for another few beats, then releases a breath. She pushes away from the door and brushes past me on her way into the house. It might not have anything beyond a chair and a ratty rug, but Emily plants her feet in the center of it like it’s Coach House and runs a hand through her hair. “I’ve always protected Joe.” She gives an unsteady laugh. “You complained about it when we were going out, but I never understood how you could be too protective, too loyal. We grew up without anyone but each other.”

Mateo looks like he wants to give her shit, but I shoot him a glare.

“It was supposed to be a dinner out on the water.”

“You hate boats.”

That earns me a wan smile. “But Rhys liked them. And, by that time, I’d learned to do whatever it took to keep him happy. It was about survival.”

A pang of guilt slashes my insides. How could my brother have been a monster? Why didn’t I know? But I guess Emily’s dealing with the same shock over her own brother.

“Joe showed up. He started fighting with Rhys. I watched him kill my husband.” Her voice breaks. “There was no love between us, but he didn’t deserve to die. Not over money. Joe didn’t know I was there, but I couldn’t help it—I screamed.”

Cold runs down my spine. She may not have died that night, but she came close.

“He thought I would protect him. There was no doubt in his mind about it. He talked about how we’d take the boat out and dump Rhys’s body, how I’d call the Coast Guard and say there was an accident, how no one would doubt the story.”

“You told him no.” We might not have been made for each other, but I know her. She may have spoiled her little brother, but she would never condone murder.

Not even if the bastard deserved it. Too bad Joe Causey didn’t end Rhys for the right reasons—protecting his sister the way she protected him.

No, I could already see the way this played out.

“He said Rhys was stealing from him, that he deserved it.” Tears in her eyes. “I didn’t even understand what he meant. How could Rhys steal from him? That was when he told me about the bribes. And the drugs. All the ways he was a dirty cop.”

“And Rhys helped him.” Christ. My brother was more evil than I knew.

“They laundered money through some real estate investments Rhys made. Apparently that’s why Joe needed him. It would have raised red flags if he’d owned that much property.”

Anger flows through me. Rhys had been an angry child. Apparently he’d grown into a worse man. The knowledge doesn’t sit well, considering I’d left Emily to him. Along with Paige. “Joe thought you’d continue protecting him.”

“I couldn’t even pretend or act the part. I was shaking from head to toe. You could see it in his eyes, the moment he realized I might tell someone what I saw. The decision he made to get rid of me. He told me we were going to dump his body in the ocean, but he meant me, too. So I waited until he went below to get rope, and then I jumped overboard and swam away.”

Christ. Thinking of her at night in the ocean. She’s not a strong swimmer. “You could have died.”

She gives me a small, sad smile. “Sometimes it feels like I did.” Her gaze goes distant for a moment. Imagining her death, maybe. “You know Debbie Harris?”

The name rings a vague bell. Auburn hair, I think. Kind eyes. “Does she work at the hospital?”

“Sometimes. She’s a traveling nurse, so she’s not here very often. Two years behind us in school. She said I could stay, so I stayed. I thought I would keep my head down and wait for something to happen.”