Before She Dies (Alexandria Novels 3)

“Age doesn’t stop abusers.”

She shook her head in denial even as the old memories flooded. “Grady always favored Mariah. He’d spent extra time with her. He didn’t like it when boys wanted to date her.” She closed her eyes. “It explains so much.”

“Like what?”

“The way she’d tease him with news of a date. She knew he hated it.”

“Is he Sooner’s father?”

“No. I told you it was that boy. The one with the fictitious name. Matt Davis.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I know.”

His eyes narrowed. “And she never told anyone who had fathered Sooner?”

“We never talked about the baby’s father.”

“Maybe that’s why Grady kept Sooner because she was his.”

“No. Grady is not Sooner’s father.” He’d kept Sooner to punish her for leaving. “Why are you asking all these questions? What have you found out about Mariah?”

His jaw tensed. “I found out what happened to her.”

She closed her eyes and immediately they filled with tears. He was about to tell her what she’d sensed for years. “It wasn’t an accident.”

“No.”

She hadn’t cried since the night she’d left Sooner with Grady at the carnival. Over the years she’d kept tears and sadness buried so very deep. But now she couldn’t stop the tears.

Rokov pulled her into his embrace and held her close. He didn’t say anything but just held her as the sadness and worry and old fears poured out of her.

Finally she pulled back and swiped the tears. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” His tone was soft and firm.

“I guess I’ve known it all these years, but to hear it is another matter.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You gave me the answer I’ve needed for too many years.” She pulled back away from the heat and the touch of his fingers on her arms. “How?”

He hesitated. “She was drowned.”

“Like the other two women?”

“Yes. And she was marked with the word Witch.”

“Oh, God.”

He enunciated each word carefully. “Could Grady have killed Mariah in a jealous rage?”

She felt sick.

“He’s a liar. You know that.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe he’d kill her.”

Rokov was silent for a moment, and then in a low dangerous voice said, “Did he ever try anything with you? You two were the same age. Did he ever touch you?”

She paled.

“Charlotte?”

“I was too argumentative. Grady used to say if I could just be more like Mariah, his life would be easier.”

His gaze burned into her. “Is that a yes or a no?”

“A no. Grady never touched me.”

A grim smile tipped the edge of his mouth. “Okay. Okay.” The question satisfied, his mind seemed to return to the matter at hand. “You said you both worked the Madame Divine tent.”

“That’s right. We took shifts.”

“You wore the same costume.”

“And the same wig and mask. Grady didn’t want folks knowing Madame Divine’s identity. He never wanted the mystique ruined.”

“Or he never wanted the public knowing his psychic was two underage girls.”

“That, too, I suppose.”

“If Grady didn’t kill Mariah,” he said carefully,

“could the killer have come into the Madame Divine tent as a customer and become fixated on her?”

“Sure. Maybe. We saw so many people. I lost track.”

“The killer could just as easily have gotten a reading from you as Mariah?”

Her stomach dropped. “You’re saying whoever killed her was really after me.”

“Maybe. Maybe he just wanted Madame Divine. If the public didn’t know she was two people, then he wouldn’t either.”

“Oh, God.”

“What?”

“We switched at the last second that night. I wasn’t feeling well and Mariah was happy to get out of the trailer and away from the baby.”

He frowned. “Did anyone odd come into your tent before Mariah died that set off alarm bells for you?”

“It has been eighteen years. I’ve blocked all that out. And after Mariah died, I was gone for good in less than a week.”

“When was the last time you worked in the tent?”

“About a week before she died. After she was gone, I refused to go into the tent again.”

“Grady give you a hard time about not working?”

“Yes. He was furious. He said ...” She paused and swallowed jagged emotions. “He said it should have been me.”

Rokov opened the manila folder at his side. “These are Mariah’s crime scene photos and they are rough.”

She moistened dry lips and tried to dismiss the growing nausea in her gut. “Let me see.”

He hesitated a moment and then opened the file.

She stared in horror at the colored picture of Mariah lying on her back, her face covered with a handkerchief, and her limp body lying by a road. Tears choked her throat. “I don’t see a connection.”

“Have a closer look.”

She clenched her fists. She lowered her gaze and drew in a sharp breath when she fully took in the image of her sister lying in the grass. She’d seen her share of autopsy photos, and though she’d found them sobering, they’d never been as devastating as these.

“You all right?”

“Yes.”

He flipped to the next picture. It was another angle of her lying down.

“He wrote on her.”

“Yes.”

All she saw was the violence and the hatred that had spewed out of a monster onto her sister. But as she’d allowed logic to elbow and subdue emotion, her mind locked on a detail. “That handkerchief is Grady’s. He always carried one like that.”

“It appears fairly generic.”

“He bought them by the dozen because he always needed one in his pocket. He called them his good luck charm.”

Her knees gave way, and he quickly closed the file and caught her elbow, preventing her from crumbling. He guided her to a cream-colored sofa. “I still hear her screams in my dreams. Her last moments must have been a nightmare.”

He sat beside her. Though he didn’t touch her, his presence gave her the strength to stay calm. She wasn’t going to cry this time.

“It’s no shame to cry,” he said.

“My mother taught me never to cry. A foolish lesson for a mother to pass on to a child, but until today I’ve not cried in a very long time.”

“I’m sorry I was the cause.”

“It wasn’t you. You gave me the answers I needed for so long.” She tossed him a sidelong glance and found him staring at her. “Where is she? Grady said he had her buried in Fairfax but he wouldn’t let me see the grave.”

“She was never claimed so she was cremated.”

She pressed her fingertips to her eyes. “She should have been claimed. We should have gathered and honored her.”

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?”

“Get away from here. Get something to eat.”