The Sinner (Notorious 1)

Something dark and gritty rolled through me.

But then the man turned and I recognized Carter O’Neill from the surveillance photos.

But the gritty bit—like dirt and stones rattling through my guts and blood—stayed, reminding me that I had pushed away and hurt everyone who would welcome me like that.

Especially Savannah, and I felt the loss like a punch in the stomach.

13

SAVANNAH

“I got your e-mail,” Carter said, keeping his arm tucked tight around me as we walked through the halls. I didn’t let go of Carter. Wouldn’t for the world. He was here. My brother was back.

“Before you get upset,” I said, pulling him into the kitchen because I was starving. “Margot is not quite as sick as I might have made out in my e-mail.”

“Really?” Carter asked, grinning as he leaned against the counter.

“She’s healthy as a damn horse. And Katie is not threatening to run away to see you.”

“Somehow I figured. Where is Margot?”

“Church.”

“Church?” Carter asked, astonished. Understandable, since Margot had never been one for religion. She’d always said that she sizzled when the priests splashed the holy water.

“Her latest is apparently a believer.”

“This is the guy who took her on that cruise?”

“The same. She spends every Sunday with him and about once a month she’s gone for a few days. They travel.”

“A multimillionaire believer with a mistress?”

“Companion,” I corrected, using Margot’s steel-and-petal tone. “Mistress is so gauche.”

“You heard from Tyler?” he asked, changing the subject.

“He sent a huge bouquet of flowers when he won that poker thing.”

“I got a box of cigars,” Carter said.

“Well, that’s good.”

“Sure, you know Tyler. Money, women, good times. That’s all that matters.”

“If you talk to him like that, no wonder he doesn’t come visit.”

“Tyler doesn’t come visit because he’s too busy being the big man, Savannah.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and I was reminded of how much he used to worry about us when we were still with our mother. The way he cared. “Tyler’s not the boy we knew. Not anymore.”

I wanted to press for more details, but let it go. I only had Carter for a little while, and I didn’t want to spend that time fighting.

“Things seem to be going well for you,” I said, watching him out of the corner of my eye as I grabbed an apple from the fridge. “Mayor Pro Temp.”

Carter nodded. “Thank you. I wish you’d come to visit. There’s—”

“You hungry?” I asked, pulling out some turkey and another apple and cheese, anything not to look at him.

“You planning on spending every minute of your life here?”

Maybe. “Of course not.”

“Then come visit.”

“When?” I asked, thunking the food down on the counter. “Katie’s in school and Margot—”

“Is an adult. She doesn’t expect you to grow old with her.”

I started to assemble sandwiches as if on a stopwatch.

“Savannah.” He touched my hand, pulled the knife from my fingers and forced me to look at him. “She’s not coming back. Mom—”

“I know that,” I snapped, pulling my hands free.

“Then why are you waiting around like she is?”

“I stopped waiting for Mom ten years ago. This is my life, Carter. My home. It’s yours, too.”

“No, Savannah, it’s not. It never was. It’s where I was left.”

I sucked in a terrible breath, my vision swimming with sudden anger. A lifetime of it.

“You think you’ve been left? Every single—” I stopped and went back to sandwich building.

“Savannah?”

“Forget it.” I shook my head. I was not going to talk about this. Not going to enumerate every time that front door had shut behind someone I loved. My mother, my brothers. Eric. And Matt, when he got around to going. Just thinking about it made my whole body hurt.

“The world is not going to hurt you, Savvy.”

I laughed, bitter sadness making me feel twice my age. “There’s plenty going on here that could hurt me,” I said and Matt’s face was forefront in my mind. The sweat and the smiles, the way he made me feel, as though I’d been dipped in something sweet. That would all turn to pain when he left.

“What’s this about break-ins?” Carter asked.

I told him the story, leaving out the part about Matt on the summer porch. My brother was sort of an old-world Southern gentleman, charming at a distance, but a hassle under the same roof.

“And the police think it’s teenagers?” he asked, pulling his red silk tie free from his collar.

I nodded.

“Is that what you think?” Carter asked.

“Yes…Maybe. There’s also this situation with some stolen gems. I don’t think it’s—”

“How do you know about that?” Carter asked, his focus sharp as a knife.

“How do you know about that?” I countered, stunned that Carter, who seemed so distanced from the family, would be aware of the gems.

“I know it was something Mom was messed up in a while back,” Carter answered.

“Did she steal them from the original thief?”