Deceptions (Cainsville 3)

"It does."

"In that case, since I'm not supposed to know their secrets, that is something you'll want to do with Gabriel. If there's anything I can pursue in the meantime . . ."

"Go to class. Take a break while you can."

He gave me a faint smile. "I don't need a break. Ever."

"I know. But you did more than enough this morning. Thank you."

"Anytime."

He headed off to his bike, leaving Gabriel and me walking deeper into the lot, where my car was still parked from yesterday.

As we walked toward the VW, Gabriel slowed. "Might I suggest that we take my car to Cainsville so we can talk? Your text message was hardly voluble."

"Such being the nature of text messages."

"That wasn't an accusation." He paused, as if mentally adding not exactly. "But clearly your inquiries with Ricky proved . . . I'm loath to say fruitful, as your mood inside suggests the information was not what you wanted to hear. You learned something that upset you, and it made you want to talk to Todd."

"We went to see Dr. Escoda," I said.

"The daughter of your former family physician. Yes. You should not have gone to see her after I've notified her of a possible intention to sue. If you hoped to speed up recovery of your files--"

"They were my files."

He stopped. Took off his shades. Looked at me. Waited.

"The girl in that file?" I said. "The one with spina bifida? That was me. Which means we finally know my parents' motivation. The purpose of whatever ritual they were enacting. They did kill those people. For me. Now we need to find out who helped them do it."

--

We took Gabriel's car and I explained.

"Ricky covered all the contingencies," I said as I finished. "Eyewitness accounts. Medical proof." I lifted my elbow. "And a teeny, tiny scar that I never knew I had, which rules out even the crazy 'twin sister' explanation. Someone--Cwn Annwn or Tylwyth Teg--told my parents that I would be cured if I did what they said. A ritual or a bargain. Magical intervention. Now here I am, walking around, good as new, while my parents have spent my life in prison."

Another mile passed. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, took off his shades, and gave me a sidelong look, not making direct eye contact. "How are you doing? With that? The possibility?"

"Trying very hard not to think about the implications. Right now, my focus is on proving it. On finding out who did this. Who healed me . . . and destroyed my family."

--

There was little question of whom I needed to speak to in Cainsville. The person I was most angry with . . . who also happened to be the one most likely to give me a straight answer.

Gabriel fetched Patrick from the diner so I wouldn't have to face the elders.

I met Gabriel at the corner of Rowan and Main, and he told me Patrick would speak to us at his place.

"Do you know where he lives?" I asked.

"He provided the address." Gabriel waved for us to cross the road.

"But you didn't know before that?"

His brows rose above his shades. "Why would I?"

Why indeed.

As I expected, Patrick's house was neither large nor