“That’s okay,” Becka replied. “For what it’s worth, I prefer being cast as the devious mastermind over the powerless pawn.”
“Thank you for your statements and suggestions,” Quinn said to Astrid and Calder, ignoring Becka’s sniping. “I will make sure to include them in my report. Now, if you could excuse me.” He turned, took Becka by the elbow, and strode off down the path back towards the manor house, guiding her along beside him.
Becka experienced a confusing mixture of feelings. She was indignant over being hauled off by the handsome, yet burly warrior. She was also impressed and, if she had to admit it to herself, a wee bit turned on, both by his effortless command of the situation and his composure during the accusations. However, her anxiety over Quinn’s intentions had continued to amplify over the course of the day. She felt not much closer to understanding his motivations.
“Please, Quinn, let me go. I can walk fine on my own, you know.”
He hesitated a moment and paused. Quinn released her arm, frowned, and then motioned to the path ahead of them. Becka moved along, Quinn matching her stride.
“Apologies, Becka. I figured they would back down if I took visible charge of the situation.”
It wasn’t the response she’d expected. He’d been putting on a show of force?
“Are you going to put that in your report on me too?”
“You are shocked by the idea that I am keeping a file on you?” He laughed, but it was a gentle sound. “I am a detective. What did you expect?”
“I mean, I know you are. I just assumed I would be a suspect in Tesse’s death too.”
“You are family. Family are always the first suspects.”
Becka smiled a half-hearted smile. “I know that’s true, but it’s still a bit dark.”
“That’s reality for you. So, where are we off to?”
“The inquisition chambers for the scheduled afternoon torture confession?”
Quinn looked at her askance. “That is not a room I expected to have in House Rowan.”
“No, goof. I figured you’d be sitting me down for a formal questioning to answer Astrid’s charges?”
“No point. Words can mislead. I prefer to watch your actions. Actions never lie.”
Becka considered the truthfulness of that statement. Perhaps she’d do well to hold him to the same standard.
“Well then, if you don’t have other plans, I’d like to visit my sister and pay my respects. And then I’d like to go home.”
It was Quinn’s turn to side-eye her, but then he nodded. “Lead on.”
Chapter 14
When the sentinels standing guard at the entrance to the viewing hall allowed her to pass without question, Becka hurried to enter before they changed their minds.
“People usually rush to exit a viewing, not the other way around,” Quinn said.
“I didn’t want them to remember who I was and then exclude me.” To Becka’s amazement, her lingering headache had faded away. The mercurial pattern of its triggers had never been clear to her.
Becka had attended funerary viewings only a couple of times in her life, the last about a year before being outcast. Each was unique and customized to honor the departed.
She didn’t want to be here, but she couldn’t have closure without saying a final goodbye.
This rock-hewn lined chamber was draped with a series of sunset shaded semi-sheer curtains, the effect one of walking through a maze of burnt umber at dusk. No doubt this theme was chosen to honor Tesse by using her favorite color palette. The brief journey into the room served as an opportunity for the viewer to mentally prepare themselves to say a final goodbye to the departed. Freshly laid orange rose petals crushed under their shoes, and smoke from incense hung in the air. Becka recognized the scent as a combination of fir, wild garlic, juniper, and thyme.
“Are you worried there might be someone hiding behind the sheers?”
Quinn shook his head. “I am not worried. It’s a possibility I considered as we entered and I am prepared.”
“Family and friends wouldn’t disturb Tesse with any drama.”
“I sincerely doubt whoever killed your sister would care about desecrating her viewing chamber.”
He had a point. Taking another look through the room and recognizing how little she could see through the curtains, Becka felt a chill run down her back. Although she didn’t fully trust Quinn, she believed he’d protect her from an attacker.
What if Quinn became the attacker? She still had no idea what the conversation she’d overheard last night meant, and she felt too guilty for eavesdropping to ask. He certainly hadn’t been acting today like someone planning her demise.
They reached the center of the chamber where Tesse laid in state upon a raised quartz plinth. A sheer orange shroud draped her supine form, muting the details to passing eyes. And yet Becka recognized every element, from her long, straight plaited hair, to the proportions and length of her body, to the angle of her feet and the way her toes tented the fabric. Her torso, hips, and legs were wrapped with a silvered gauze.
A strategic swath of silvered fabric laid over the shroud, covering Tesse’s neck and shoulders.
No doubt when the time came to ritually release her, they’d carry her out to the grove of aspen and hold her pyre there.
Becka was here now, gazing down at her mirror image. Her twin.
They say it’s difficult for a parent to manage after the passing of a child. A part of them lost, gone forever, with an open wound remaining forevermore.
But to lose a twin felt like losing half of herself. Her identity had splintered, a shattered fragment of what she’d always known to be true.
Becka wondered if the shattered husk within her chest would ever heal back into a heart again. She knew she’d never be the same. In truth, she wasn’t ready to heal. Healing would mean she’d moved on and accepted Tesse’s death. She couldn’t do that, not yet.
Needing to understand, to fully grasp what Tesse had experienced,
