“Your father,” Dean says.
I nod. “But they made a mistake. The lights were off when my father went into the office and found her body. Somehow, they got inside the house and were lying in wait for my father. They must have seen movement in the darkness and didn’t wait to confirm who it was. They shot her, realized what they did, and ran.”
“Maybe that’s why your father brought you to Vermont. He was trying to hide from Jonah,” Dean suggests.
I shake my head. “No. He thought his brother was dead, remember? He wouldn’t have any reason to hide from him.”
“Then why was she cremated in one state and a casket buried in her grave in another?”
“Hopefully, when the petition is approved, we’ll find out.”
Dean gets a call just as we’re leaving the hospital. He talks for a few seconds then turns to me with a blend of regret and urgency in his eyes.
“I have to go,” he says. “That was one of my contacts. A guy I’ve been trying to track down for months was just arrested, and I need to go get some information. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”
“That’s fine,” I tell him. “You go do what you need to do. I’m just going to take a shower and try really hard to get some sleep.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I can stay with you tonight and go tomorrow if you don’t want to be alone.”
“I’m sure,” I insist. “I’ll call Bellamy and see if she can come over. She’s gotten pretty used to being my full-time babysitter at this point.”
“Hey, not full time,” he teases. “I get at least a little bit of credit.”
“You don’t get any credit,” I fire back. “Being a blood relative comes with certain responsibilities.”
We smile at each other. We haven’t had the chance to really talk about the revelation that we’re cousins or what that means for our families. I don’t even know how to talk about it. It feels like such a big deal and nothing at the same time. I’ve grown up without much of a family, so suddenly adding a cousin is strange and exciting. But I don’t know if it actually changes anything. Either way, it’s not something we’ve had the time to devote to, but it’s fun to give a little bit of a reminder. If nothing else, reminding him that I am his cousin might help to take the edge off the unpleasant reality of Jonah being his father.
“My office isn’t far from here, so it really shouldn’t take all that long.”
“Your office is close to here?” I ask.
He pauses and gives me a hint of a smile.
“Yeah,” he says. “When I left the military and had to decide where to settle down and start my business, this was the place that felt right. Turns out there’s lots of work in D.C. for a private investigator. Who’d have thought?”
We part ways in the parking lot, and I head home. Bellamy hasn’t answered yet, but I leave her a message and stop at an all-night convenience store for some snacks. If sleep continues to elude me tonight, at least my late-night TV binge will be in good company.
I get to my house and do the quick check of the area I’ve gotten into the habit of doing each time I return home. Everything looks exactly as I left it, but when I unlock the door and step inside, I realize that’s not quite the case.
A heart-shaped box of chocolates sits on the coffee table with a note beside it. My skin goes cold until I realize it’s after midnight. It’s Valentine’s Day. The holiday completely slipped my mind, but obviously, Sam had something up his sleeves. I smile, drop everything in my arms down on the chair, and walk over to the table.
“Sam?” I call out as I sit on the couch and take the top off the box to snag my favorite dark chocolate dipped coconut. “I’m home. This is a wonderful surprise.”
“Yes, it is.”
The voice comes out of the darkness at the back of the house and the back of my mind. It’s wrenched from a night so long ago, barely audible from the tiny attic room where Mama sang to me to keep me calm. The chocolate drops from my fingertips as I look up and see glassy eyes and a jagged scar.
“You.”
“Hi, Emma.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jonah takes a step toward me, and I stand up.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Emma,” he says with a magnanimous grin on his face.
“What are you doing in my house?” I growl.
He cringes slightly.
“What kind of way is that to talk to me? Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asks.
“Why would I be happy to see you?” I look down at my hand and see chocolate melted onto my fingertips. “Oh, no.”
I grab a handful of tissues out of the box on the end table and spit into them. Scraping my tongue with my teeth, I try to get as much of what part of the candy might linger there out. I only took one bite, but that could be enough.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “Don’t you like your treat?” He watches me for a few seconds, then seems to realize what I’m doing. “You don’t think they’re poisoned, do you? You don’t have to worry about anything like that, Emma. I would never
