Silenced

specially blessed. And even after the car crash that killed her mother, she let herself believe him, because she desperately needed to.

She let him convince her that her mother tried to kill her and Sara when she crashed the truck. She didn’t want to believe the truth, because she didn’t understand it.

But maybe because of the seed her mother had planted in her mind that night, Ivy had doubts.

She had doubts because their older sister Naomi changed.

She had doubts when she found Naomi in his bed.

And she knew it was wrong when she read Naomi’s hidden diary and found out what their father was underneath his pretty face. What disturbed her, even before she knew it was wrong, was that Naomi had convinced herself that she was anointed and special, that their mother died because she was ignorant of the truth and normal course of human nature. Through Naomi’s diary, Ivy had learned what happened in their father’s bed. She learned that Naomi was grooming Ivy to assist with this “important responsibility.” All those sisterly words of wisdom about hair and clothing and perfumes and shaving were all because that’s what their father wanted.

And she learned that once Ivy gave in to the will of their father, she would be responsible for grooming Sara.

So when she turned fourteen and he brought her to his bed, she knew it wasn’t for a bedtime story.

But it wasn’t until she gathered the courage to escape did she learn the truth about who betrayed her mother the night she died.

The night Marie Edmonds tried to save her daughters, she didn’t know that her oldest daughter had gone straight to the devil himself. Naomi had told their father of her mother’s plans to escape from the mountain, and that she expected Naomi to make sure the gate was open.

Ivy didn’t know it either. Not until Naomi caught her trying to leave with then-eight-year-old Sara and told her the truth. Their mother didn’t commit suicide, though Naomi was in denial.

“I put her medicine in her tea,” Naomi told Ivy six years ago. “I couldn’t let her leave. I thought she’d pass out long enough to get Daddy. I didn’t know she was going to get in the truck! I played along with her, told her I’d open the gate, but I went to the church instead.”

Naomi’s eyes had been glazed, just like they always were. But even though she was on her happy pills, she was anxious. “She took you and Sara. Put you in the truck. She wanted to kill all of us, because she was so sick. I saved your life, Hannah. Daddy and I saved you.”

Naomi believed it. Maybe she had to believe the lie in order to survive.

Marie Edmonds had been murdered when she found out she was married to a monster. And Ivy would never forget the promise she made to take care of Sara, forever.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sean didn’t talk to Paxton unless he had a specific question. He detested being in the same room with him. While poring over the schedules and lists he’d created, one part of his brain was working on how to take down the senator-as soon as the statute of limitations ran out in Massachusetts, which was months away.

Sean reviewed all the background checks he’d started on Paxton’s employees, current and former, and nothing stood out. There were no spouses or boyfriends or girlfriends or exes or relatives that stood out as having a reason to take the locket and threaten Paxton.

“Why did Chris Taylor leave your office?”

“Because he deserved a chief of staff slot, and Dale Hartline is from my home state. I recommended him for the position.”

“You wanted someone loyal to you in Hartline’s office.”

“Dale is a novice, and a good man. Too trusting. Chris wouldn’t betray him.”

“Or you.”

Paxton slapped his palm on his desk. “I rearranged my night to meet you here. The locket went missing three weeks ago, the week after I gave the media the photos of Alan Crowley and the prostitute. I already reviewed the security tapes. No one came into my office outside of those meetings.”

“Which reminds me-why did you keep it in your Senate office when your house is more secure?”

“More secure? You easily broke in.”

“Not everyone is me.”

“The locket has always stayed in the drawer in my Senate office, except when I travel home for break. I bring it with me.”

Sean didn’t think Paxton was being honest, but what did he expect? “Let’s assume that whoever came into your office had a reason to be there,” Sean said. “They had to have suspected you had something incriminating in your office.”

“I thought of that. I went through the list of everyone I met with-there’s no one who could have known about the locket or the note.”

“But someone did know. If they didn’t, then the locket and message mean nothing.” Sean hunched over his laptop and re-sorted his lists. “Other than Mallory, who took credit for killing Morton, who knew the truth? Russo?”

Paxton nodded.

“And?”

“No one else. Dave Biggler, who’s in prison after the WCF sting, wasn’t there. It was just Mallory, Russo, and me.” Paxton sighed. “I was not a good father,” he said quietly.

“I don’t care.”

“I was a workaholic,” he continued as if Sean hadn’t spoken. “I didn’t give Monique what she needed.”

Sean ignored him. He didn’t want to be drawn into a conversation with the senator about his daughter, because it would inevitably end up as a conversation about Lucy. His eyes wandered from the laptop to the shredding machine where Lucy’s statement was in a million pieces.

“We’re on the same team,” Paxton pleaded.

“We don’t even play in the same ballpark.”

“You’d be surprised what you’re capable of,” Paxton said.

Though it was difficult to ignore that statement, Sean said, “I’ve divided the meetings into categories-those who had private meetings with you, and those who had group meetings. I can’t discount group meetings because I can see any number of scenarios where someone in a group may have been left alone, or came back to the room because they forgot their papers or purse or briefcase.”

Paxton didn’t say anything. Sean could see he hadn’t considered that possibility.

“The other thing: I strongly believe that the person responsible has been in your office more than once. They may have been looking for something incriminating without knowing what it was. They may have had an idea as to what to look for. Who knows you killed Roger Morton?”

Paxton reddened. “I’ve tolerated your disrespect all day. Do not push me.”

“You put yourself in this position.”

“I told you. Only Mick Mallory and Sergio were there,” Paxton said quietly.

“Anyone else who might have suspected?”

“Fran Buckley talked to me about Mallory, but I never admitted to her that I was even there, let alone pulled the trigger.”

“All someone needs is to think it’s true. Someone who knows about the locket, that might think it has a secret that damages you-even if they don’t know what the secret is.”

Sean looked at his lists. He turned his monitor around and showed them to Paxton. “I ran the names of the individuals, every associate, common interests, some other factors, and came up with this short list of people who were in the office more than once since the beginning of the year.”

“I wasn’t the only one being blackmailed.”

Why was Sean surprised that Paxton hadn’t told him everything? “Who else?”

“I only know one for certain. Judge Robert Morgan.”