Second Grave on the Left Page 87

“Gemma,” Denise said, and I could feel the betrayal wafting off her, “what are you talking about? He begged that man not to hurt Charley.”

Gemma seemed to be struggling for patience. She closed her blue eyes a long moment, then turned to her. “Mom, did you not hear him?”

“I heard every word.” Denise’s voice was suddenly edged with bitterness.

“Mom,” Gemma said, placing her hands on Denise’s shoulders, “open your eyes.” She said it softly, not wanting to hurt the hag’s feelings.

I had no such qualms. “That’s impossible.”

Denise’s jaw clenched in anger. “See?” she asked Dad, pointing at me just in case he didn’t get it.

I was still floored by Gemma’s reaction. Quite frankly, I didn’t think she gave a crap.

Uncle Bob had been standing back, but he stepped forward now. “Maybe we can take this to my office.”

“I’m leaving,” I said, so exhausted, I thought I was going to be sick. I started out the door again.

“I knew he would lose,” Dad said quietly after me.

I stopped and turned around. Waited.

“I knew he would end up like the others.”

What others? How many did he know about?

He stepped closer to me, leveled a beseeching gaze on me. “Sweetheart, think about it. If he had gone after Gemma or Denise before we found him, they would be dead right now.”

He was right. But that didn’t make what he did hurt less. A twisting pain like I’d never felt in my life burrowed a hole in my chest, blocked off my passageway until I was gasping for air. And then it happened again. The f**king waterworks. God, could I be any more lame?

Dad put a hand on my face. “I knew you would be okay. You always are, my beautiful girl. You have, I don’t know, a power or something. A force that follows you. You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“But, Dad,” Gemma said in admonishment, “you should have told her. You should have prepared her.” Gemma was crying now, too. I couldn’t believe it. I had entered the Twilight Zone. No more science fiction marathons for me. Gemma stepped to my side and hugged me. Like, really hugged. And damned if I didn’t hug back.

The bitterness and frustration from years of being the f**kup, the odd girl out, the ugly duckling surfaced and I could not, with my most concentrated effort, stop the sobs from racking my body. Dad joined in, whispering airy apologies as we embraced.

I glanced up at Denise. She stood looking around, confused and embarrassed, and I almost felt sorry for her. Only not. Then I motioned for Uncle Bob to join us. He stood with a dreamy smile on his face, but when he saw me motion him toward us, he frowned and shook his head. I stabbed him with my laserlike death stare and motioned again. He blew out a long breath, then walked up and encircled us in his arms.

So there we stood, in the middle of an APD precinct, hugging and sobbing like celebrities in rehab.

“I can’t breathe,” Gemma said, and we giggled like we used to in high school.

Chapter Nineteen

JUST BECAUSE I DON’T CARE DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

—T-SHIRT

“No offense, but you’ve been a stone bitch to me for years.” I blinked toward Gemma as we sat at a table in Dad’s bar. Sammy was making us huevos rancheros and Dad was filling our drink order. Denise had followed us there as well, and even Uncle Bob excused himself from work for a bite to eat.

“The congressman can wait,” he’d said with a grin. Right before he said, “Care to explain the slice across your back?”

And then I patted his belly and said, “You know, if you keep eating like you do, I might have to start calling you Uncle Blob.”

And he said, “That wasn’t very nice.”

And I said, “I know, that’s why I said it.”

And he said, “Oh.”

And then we came here.

Gemma shifted in her chair. “I’m working on that, okay? I mean, do you know what it’s like growing up with the amazing Charley Davidson as a sister? The Charley Davidson?”

I’d taken a sip of the iced tea Dad handed me and promptly choked on it. After a long and arduous coughing fit, I gaped at her as best I could. “Are you kidding? You were always the perfect one. And you had issues with me?”

“Duh,” she said, rolling her eyes. We were much more alike than I remembered. It was creepy.

“You don’t even say hi to me,” I argued. “You don’t even look up when I walk into a room.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” Her gaze dropped self-consciously along with my jaw.

“Why would you think such a ridiculous thing?”

“Because you told me never to speak to you again. Not even to say hi. And never, under any circumstances, was I to ever look at you again.”

What? I totally didn’t remember that. Well, there was that one time. “Dude, I was nine.”

She shook her head.

Okay, there was that other time. “Twelve?”

Another shake.

“Well, whatever, it was a long time ago.”

“You didn’t mention a time limit. You obviously don’t remember, but I do, like it was yesterday. And besides that, you were always so secretive. I wanted to know so much more, and you wouldn’t tell me.” She lifted her shoulders. “I always felt so left out of your life.”

It was my turn to shift uncomfortably. “Gemma, there are just some things you’re better off not knowing.”

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