“Connected?” The word comes out before I can stop myself from speaking.
Cavender nods. “Yeah. Same or similar murder weapon. For all we know, this could be a case of a serial killer.”
My mouth drops open in shock.
Three murders. All the same or similar weapons. If someone else were telling me a story like this, I’d think serial killer too.
He’s at least partially right.Desiree and I had matching knives. I used one in the elevator and Reyes used the other on her. But I have no idea how they’re connecting the third murder, who I have to assume was Laura Brandon. Except Reyes slit her throat ... which means she was killed with a knife too.Hell.
“You look awfully surprised by that, Ms. Maison,” Agent Pomeroy says.
My attention cuts to him. “Yeah, that’s surprising and alarming news to me. And I’m unsure what about it made you feel like you had to come tell me on the day I’m laying my great-aunt to rest.At her funeral.”
Pomeroy, at least, looks slightly abashed by my statement.
Cavender, it seems, couldn’t care less. “If you were easier to find, we wouldn’t have had to hunt you down here. Now, we’d like you to come back to the station to answer some questions for us—”
“Are you fucking kidding me, man?” Moses cuts him off. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She just said good-bye to her last living relative, and you want her to come down to the station.Again? No fucking way. You can wait until tomorrow or the day after, when she’s had some time to grieve. You hear me?”
“You’d better be careful how you talk to me, Mr. Gaspard. I’ve been digging into you, and I’ve gotta say, I don’t think everything in your background adds up either. I’m reaching out to some friends in other departments for a more thorough check.”
“Search away, Cavender. Go for it. But we’re done here.” Moses locks his arm around me and starts marching me around the two men.
“Ms. Maison?” Pomeroy calls, and we pause.
Slowly, I peek over my shoulder. “What?”
“If you fail to cooperate with Detective Cavender, the FBI would be more than happy to question you ourselves. I have quick access to a federal warrant, if you make this difficult.”
I have the urge to flip him off, but Moses’s touch on my arm stops me.
“Contact her lawyer. Cavender has the number,” he says as we turn and walk straight to the SUV.
Thirty-Four
Moses
Rage thunders through my veins while Magnolia grips my arm as we walk to the car.
How fucking dare they show up at a goddamn funeral to get to her?I could tear them both limb from limb for causing her another moment of pain on this already fucking hard day.
I grit my teeth as I open the door and help her inside.This is why you have a plan B already in place,I remind myself.Because I’m not letting them get to her. I don’t give a fuck what their badges say.
As soon as the driver closes the door to the car, I reach out to take Magnolia’s hand and cover it with mine.
“You hanging in there, mama?”
She faces me, her whiskey eyes flaming with fire but also doused with sadness. “I’m surprised Bernie didn’t assault them with lightning from the heavens,” she says as she lifts her chin and inhales sharply. She’s trying to pull herself together, and I hate that she has to fight to do it beside me.
“Hey, it’s all right to cry. It’s okay to be pissed. You feel whatever you need to feel right now. Don’t worry about them. I’ll handle everything. I fucking promise.”
Her fingers tighten around my hand. I know she hears me, but Magnolia has depended on herself for so long that it takes work for her to trust me—no matter how much she loves me.
She bobs her head and swallows, glancing out her window as we pull out into traffic. The rain has cleared away, and the sun is fighting to break through the clouds.
I say a prayer for Magnolia’s great-aunt Bernie and hope the sunlight is a sign from her that she’s made it where she needs to go and is watching over my woman. Because no matter what Magnolia thinks, I witnessed something in that house. Sure, I saw a crotchety old woman with lots of regrets, especially for the pain she caused, but I also observed one wholoved.
It might be rolling the dice, but I think Magnolia needs to open the letter. She needs to hear what Bernie had to say to her. I just hope I’m not wrong.