3 Dime If I Know (24 page)

“I can’t believe the two of you,” Amanda Golden said. “You should be ashamed of yourselves. Rafe’s your brother.”

“He doesn’t act like he’s a member of the family,” Regina grumped. “He doesn’t want anything to do with us or Golden Enterprises. He walked out and never looked back.”

“Can you blame him?” I asked. “Someone in this room, in his family, set him up for a murder rap. Someone wants him to pay for a crime he didn’t commit, and I think it dates back to an earlier tragedy in your family. To Brenna’s death.”

Ashley gasped. Mary and Florie stared at the floor. Hill and Regina caught each other’s eye. Tiffany looked like she’d rather be any place but here. Shep drained his whiskey glass.

“We don’t talk about Brenna,” Amanda said, frost dripping from her words.

I walked across the room toward Rafe’s mom, needing to closely gauge her reaction. “You should. There were irregularities in the investigation of her accidental death, things you kept out of the police record.”

“Dredging up the past won’t help my son,” Shep said.

“I know how hard a loss can be, but the more I think about how this family reacts, the more I believe the present trouble stems from the past. Consider how it looks from my perspective. Shep hides from the truth, Amanda orchestrates her own truth, Regina runs interference for the company, and Hill escapes by playing the bad boy. Brenna’s death affected everyone in this room, even Mary, Florie, and Ashley. No one has said this out loud, but at least one of you blames Rafe for her death.”

Stunned silence met my ears. No one protested. No one denied it. I was on the right track. “You think he did it because he feels such shame and responsibility for the incident. I’ve got news for you folks. It’s his nature to care for the people around him. He feels terrible about the incident because he failed to protect Brenna, not because he murdered her. Need I remind you that three Goldens shot that day.”

Ashley’s nose went up. “His bullets were clustered around her heart.”

“How do you know that?” Amanda asked.

“My guess is that she asked someone to pull the autopsy record. How many different guns were involved?”

“Three,” Hill said. “Mine, Rafe’s, and Reggie’s.”

“It’s my belief someone killed Brenna elsewhere with one of those three guns. Then they placed her behind the target at the range. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

“Who would want to hurt Brenna? She was the sweetest child,” Florie said. “She had a kind word for everyone.”

This was the first I’d heard from the housekeeper. I’d always wanted to say “the butler did it” on one of my cases, but she wasn’t a butler. Worse, petite Florie didn’t seem strong enough to carry a teenager’s body all the way to the distant gun range.

“According to Rafe, Brenna was everyone’s favorite. He mentioned she was the best and brightest of you all. As the youngest, I imagine she got the most attention. I imagine Brenna’s shining star made the other children fade into the background. She could have challenged Regina for the Queen Bee slot in the family. She was younger than Hill, but she outshone him in every way. She could have ruined Ashley’s chances at being the prettiest of the next generation. Even Mary could have felt threatened by this bundle of perfection. Someone in this room murdered Brenna, and they’re doing their damnedest to bury Rafe alive.”

A roar of denial swept through the room. Everyone spoke at once. I couldn’t keep up with so many angry conversations. I’d wanted to stir things up, and I’d done that. The kettle was officially at full boil.

Rafe stormed into the room, eyes blazing. His voice rose above the fray. “What’s the meaning of this?”

His question was directed at me.

The fury in Rafe’s voice stunned me. I’d never seen him this angry at me before, never seen how cold his eyes could become. The room fell silent. Britt stepped to my side, placed his beefy palm on my shoulder, and I edged closer to him for safety.

“Cleo—” Rafe demanded from the center of the room. “Explain why you’re here, and why everyone is at each other’s throats.”

I’d expected him to be irritated by my meddling, but his caustic tone erased the explanation from my mind. I stood there mute, unable to respond.

Sensing an opening, Regina stepped into the power void. Her voice shook with rage. “Your tramp of a girlfriend is accusing us of murder, that’s what. She dared to bring up Brenna. Said one of us killed Brenna. One of us here in the library.”

Others joined in the finger-pointing fray. The decibel level rose to a crescendo again. “Enough!” Rafe roared.

In that moment, I knew what Rafe didn’t. He was the natural leader of this family, the prodigal son they all knew should head Golden Enterprises. That he’d turned his back on them, that he’d lost them millions of dollars in potential deals, was eating holes in someone’s craw.

“Cleo, explain yourself,” he demanded again.

He doesn’t know about the car,
I reminded myself.
He’s torn between protecting his family and hearing me out. He hasn’t condemned me out of hand. He’s asking for an explanation.
I could work with that.

I cleared my throat, squared my shoulders, and met his icy glare. “It’s as Regina said. Someone in this room killed your sister all those years ago. I’m sure of it. Others here blame you for her death because you shouldered the responsibility of her loss. Your family is hurt by your choice to walk away from them. Because of your defection, and because of Starr blackmailing Hill for years, the killer decided to tie up loose ends. The killer took Starr’s life and arranged for you to be blamed. Someone in this room, someone you know and love, despises you. Because for all intents and purposes, you’re a threat to whoever that person is. You’ve hung on to your money and your soul, something the killer lost all those years ago.”

His eyes bored into me, then his steely gaze swept across the room, resting on each person in turn. They looked away from him, as if they were afraid of what he might do.

“Hill?” Rafe asked.

“That’s the jist of the matter, but I disagree with Cleo’s conclusion,” Hill said.

“Starr blackmailed you?”

Hill glanced at Tiffany before facing Rafe. “She did.”

“Why? I don’t understand.”

“Because Starr knew something about me, something I didn’t want to come out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble? I would’ve helped you.”

He hung his head. “I couldn’t.”

“You can always talk to me. We’re brothers.”

“No one can live up to your high standards. I’m not the man you are, and I didn’t want my taped sexcapades to be headlines in the Washington press. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but those days are in the past. I’ve got a second chance. With Tiffany. She loves me despite my flaws.”

Rafe stared at Hill before catching his father’s eye. “Dad?”

Like me, Shep appeared at a loss for words. He took a deep breath and spoke in a voice laced with regret. “We should have told you kids the truth about Brenna years ago.”

“What truth?” Regina said.

“We made sure the family was protected,” Shep said. “We couldn’t take the chance one of you kids would spend your life in jail. On the original autopsy report, it was as Cleo said. Three guns, three kinds of bullets in our precious baby girl. Indications were that the shots at the range were fired after her death. Your mother and I figured her death had been an accident you kids covered up. We made sure it stayed covered up. The coroner helped us out by omitting that the range bullets were postmortem, for a price of course.”

“You thought I killed Brenna?” Rafe asked.

Shep didn’t say anything. His silence was worse than an outright accusation.

“I didn’t kill her,” Rafe said. “I swear by all that’s in me. If someone killed her, it wasn’t me. I didn’t shoot anyone on purpose. Not Brenna. Not Starr.”

His ebbing strength energized me. I wouldn’t give them another opening to hurt him. “I know who did it,” I blurted. “I know who poisoned Rafe, and I know who committed the murders.”

“Cleo,” Britt growled.

I ignored the fireplug of a man at my side and charged wildly ahead. “I have the proof at Rafe’s place. Turn yourself in by tomorrow morning, or I’m giving my evidence to my detective friend.”

“She’s bluffing,” Regina said.

“She’s leaving,” Rafe said, his hand clamped on my arm. “With me. I don’t care if I ever see any of you again. Stay away from me. Don’t call. Don’t write. You’re all dead to me.”

With that, we swept from the room on a stormy tide of emotion. Britt belted me and my purse in Rafe’s sports car, and we drove off into the sunset. Too bad there was no scriptwriter ready to type out “and they all lived happily ever after.”

I could have used a good fairy tale ending right about then.

“Rafe,” I began as the mile marker posts flew by us on the interstate. “I can explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he muttered.

“Someone framed you for murder. I couldn’t let that stand. Not while there’s a breath in my body.”

“You’re nosy, insensitive, and downright bullheaded.”

“And those are my good qualities,” I quipped, hoping to lighten his dark mood.

He barked out a laugh. “What am I going to do with you?”

“What you should have done all along. Trust me to find the truth.”

“This is my family we’re talking about.”

“So it is. Your family is angry with you.”

“Thanks to you,” he broke in.

“Thanks to your noble attitude. You saw your father. He believes you killed your sister all those years ago. He’s believed it from day one. He doesn’t know you at all.”

Rafe accelerated into the far left lane of the interstate. “I can’t believe he thought so poorly of me.”

“He thought there’d been an accident. It still might have been an accident, we don’t know. All we know for sure is that you weren’t involved in the shooting.”

“You think Hill or Reggie shot Brenna?”

“Them, or any of the others.”

“Not my parents. They doted on Brenna. Neither of them would have gotten up in the middle of the night, shot their daughter, and pretended it didn’t happen. You didn’t see them, didn’t see how none of us mattered that day, how their dead child was the only one they thought about. Hill and Reggie and I huddled on my bed all day and into the night. It was terrible. I never thought her death was anything more than Brenna hiding out down there between the bales of hay behind the target. I never considered any other possibility. I can’t wrap my brain around it.”

“Had she ever hidden in the hay bales before?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t anyone question her out-of-character action at the time?”

“We couldn’t. Brenna was everything. She was our heart and soul. For her to be gone so abruptly, we couldn’t think straight. We were numb. Still are.”

Though his voice broke, I continued to push through his barriers to learn the truth. “Did Hill or Reggie act different that day?”

“How?”

“I don’t know exactly, different. More edgy, more morose, more guilty.”

He fell silent for a bit. “Nothing stands out in my mind, but I was so torn up I couldn’t stop crying. My sister wasn’t killed on the gun range. I can’t believe I’m finding that out now. I can’t believe my parents had the autopsy report scrubbed. It’s too much to process.”

The car swerved onto the shoulder, and he yanked the wheel back. I wanted to pat his arm or stroke his head, but I was unsure of his reaction to comfort. My grip tightened on the strap of my purse. “Do you want me to drive?” I asked.

“No. I need to stay focused. Driving helps. Suppose you were right all along, that Brenna and Starr’s deaths are connected—what’s the link? I don’t see it.”

“I’ve been struggling with that aspect as well. Here’s what I have. Both are female. Both were killed with a gunshot. Both promising lives were cut short.”

“That doesn’t get us anywhere. We knew that before you went to my parents’ house and stirred the hornet’s nest.”

“I’m not finished, but these next thoughts require a leap of faith. Brenna was the apple of everyone’s eye. She received all the attention.”

“She deserved it.”

“Maybe someone else thought they should have the limelight.”

“Not Hill or Reggie.”

“Slow down, I see flashing blue lights ahead.”

He slowed until we passed the motorist getting a ticket, and I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “It could be Hill or Reggie, even though you don’t want to consider them, but there were other children around. Mary and Ashley. They were closest in age to your baby sister.”

“Why would one of them shoot Brenna?”

“I’m not certain. I’m just guessing, mind you, but attention seems significant. If everyone noticed how wonderful Brenna was, another child, one who was less sure of herself, might have felt overlooked.”

“That’s a stretch. Why didn’t they push her down, muss her hair, or whatever the hell girls do when they fight?”

“I can’t answer that because I don’t know much about your sister. How did she feel about the other kids being around? Did she act a certain way to stay in the spotlight?”

“Brenna’s goodness wasn’t an act. She always shared her toys and games. Mary and Ashley played with Brenna’s dolls. One time she choreographed a dance, and the three of them performed for us after dinner. She didn’t fight with other kids. She loved everyone.”

“Someone didn’t love her. Maybe it was the housekeeper.”

“Florie? No way. Brenna was her favorite. She was always cooking with Florie and helping her with the chores. Brenna wanted to do everything with everyone.”

I’d never known anyone like Brenna. She’d excelled at everything. “No wonder you were all so devastated.”

We drove a few miles in silence. A child paragon. That was Brenna’s defining characteristic. It felt relevant. “I keep coming back to resentment or envy. It could have been Florie. For all her tenderness toward the girl, maybe Florie felt Brenna took attention from Mary. Tell me about Mary as a child.”

“Not much to say. Her mom made sure she was dressed nicely, and she played by herself in the kitchen a lot. She was shy around us, but not around Brenna. My sister had a way with Mary.”