Page 60 of Strict Confidence (Rochester Trilogy 2)
This stoic silence is worse.
“I know.” What the hell kinds of things did Jane say to soothe her? I can’t retreat to the old habits I had before. Not now that I have better methods. But I don’t have time to study now. The test is here already. “You wanted her to stay, but she had to go. It’s the only way she could be safe, and we want her to be safe, don’t we?”
Paige narrows her eyes. To my endless shame, I wasn’t always like this with her. The two of us were caught in the same storm on different boats. If she called me out on it now, I’d deserve it. “Why couldn’t we keep her safe here?”
It’s too much to explain. Too much to explain the dark, terrible history that makes her mere presence in Maine a risk. How can I tell her that her uncle Joe wants to lock Jane up? “It’s a grown-up problem, Paige. I know it’s hard to accept, but I need you to trust me.”
Her chin quivers, but Paige keeps her teeth clenched tight together. I would feel better if she punched and screamed and cried. If she raged against me.
Light flashes off a car’s side mirror at the corner, and both of us turn toward it.
If it’s Mateo bringing Jane back, then I’ll accept it. I’m not sure I’d have the strength to send her away again. I would have to keep my body between her and whatever threat comes to us. I’ll stand in front of Paige and Jane for the rest of my goddamn life if that’s what it takes.
The car comes fully into view.
It’s not Mateo’s. Disappointment beats in my chest, even as I know it’s for the best.
It’s a black detective’s car with Joe Causey in the driver’s seat.
I’m going to kill him. Maim him at the very least.
The front door of the inn opens. Marjorie must have seen the car. She looks worried. “Paige? Would you like something to drink? Some cookies, maybe?”
She looks vaguely interested at the mention of cookies, but her frown doesn’t budge. I think it’ll be there for a long time. At least as long as Jane lived with us. Maybe longer.
The car pulls into the inn’s drive. Of course it does. After the way Jane’s interview went, he won’t be coming here unless it’s to bother me. Well, he can’t touch her anymore.
“Go in and have some cookies,” I tell Paige. “I’ll be right there. Okay?”
She takes a deep, shaky breath. “Do you promise?”
Jane made similar promises to her, and I forced her not to keep them. If I were a better man, I’d be honest with Paige. No one can guarantee they’ll stay in your life. No one can really promise you forever. “I promise.”
Paige runs past me into the house.
The only relief I feel is at the sound of the door closing behind me. Joe pulls his car onto the inn’s driveway. He climbs out of the car and heads straight for me.
“You’ve done enough, don’t you think?” The acid tone probably isn’t right for a cop, but I don’t care. Jane’s absence is like an open wound. My fucked-up leg throbs. My head aches. “You want another interview, then I need advance warning.”
“I don’t need to talk to Paige or Jane. I need to talk to you.”
“I’ve answered your questions.”
He comes to a stop in front of me on the sidewalk, and I get my first good look at him. Pale and sweaty. Not the cocky bastard who came to sit across the table during the interviews. He rubs at the back of his neck, looking uncertain, shell shocked.
What the hell is happening right now? Is this some kind of trick?
“Tell me why you’re here before I help you get the hell out of my sight.” I need to go somewhere alone, if only for a few minutes. I feel like I’m having a goddamn heart attack.
“I’ve got proof,” Joe says, almost to himself.
“Of what?” I spit back at him. “Proof about Jane? Too late. I sent her away. You don’t get to harass her anymore. No more messages on the front porch. Leave us the fuck alone.”
He blinks at me. “What are you talking about?”
Something’s wrong. He’s not just pale with a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His pale blue eyes have taken on a gray cast in the daylight, like a ghost walked through them and stole the color. He looks haunted. “I’m talking about Jane. I’m talking about everything you’ve done to scare her. To intimidate her. An innocent goddamn woman.”
Joe shakes his head. It’s like he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. “No. Not about Jane. I’m talking about Emily. She’s alive, damn it.”
My stomach drops. “Don’t play this fucking game with me.”
“I can show you.”
