The Secret Sister (26 page)

“The sad thing is...most people who know Keith probably
could
believe it,” he said. Rafe sympathized with her, but he had to be honest.

“I'm his sister,” she said as she prowled restlessly around his living room. “I know him better than anyone.”

He was on his feet, too, but he wasn't moving. He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned against the wall, watching her. “And yet you think he might've locked you in an attic once without ever coming back to let you out.”

“I can't be sure it was him.” Picking up Dinah's note, she waved it at him. “But that's what I'm afraid
she's
going to tell me.”

“You think Dinah will back up Ranger?”

“What else could this mean? What more could she have found out?”

“You'd rather believe it was your mother who pushed your sister.”

“I'd rather it was an accident, that Annabelle just...fell. That's not a pleasant thought, either, but it's not as awful as the alternatives. And if...if Keith
did
push her, I hope he did it without intending any real harm. He's always had a temper, often acted out. But he couldn't
purposely
have wanted to kill our older sister. You should've heard him talk about her. He has fond memories of her trying to stand up for him.”

“Maybe he was jealous of her, resented the attention she received. Or it could've been momentary. What if she grabbed a toy he was holding and he lashed out? At four years old, he wouldn't have realized how permanent the consequences of his actions would be.”

“Exactly my point. But say he did push her. Is he hiding the truth from me now? Shifting the blame to my mother when he knows
he's
the one at fault?”

“Only he can answer that. It could be that he doesn't remember, that he's blocked it from his mind. Or...”

“Or?” she prompted.

“Maybe that's why he struggles with substance abuse. He's having a hard time living with himself.” As she approached him, Rafe caught hold of her arm and led her to the couch, where they both sat down. “When he called earlier, he told me he wants to apologize. He's been trying to reach you.”

“I saw that. I haven't responded because I haven't decided what to do. Keith's always had his problems, but I thought I could trust him. We've looked out for each other our whole lives. It breaks my heart to think my brother—who sometimes seemed like my only friend—isn't the person I thought he was.”

“And his apology?”

She sighed. “Is it sincere or more smoke and mirrors?”

He took her hand. “I'm sorry. None of this is easy.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that you're trying to help, trying to be there for me. But I feel guilty for sharing information that's so potentially damaging about my family. It's because I was stupid enough to tell Jack that Dinah overheard.”

“You told me Dinah knew.”

“She did, but this note means she's talking about it again. What if word gets back to my mother?”

“What if it's time for the secrets to come out? Maybe facing reality is the only way for Keith to heal.” Maybe it was the only way the family could heal...

She bit her lip. “Do you think so?”

“If it's been bothering him enough.”

“But what then?” she asked. “Does he deserve to be punished? He was four—hardly an age where you'd expect him to be capable of murder. And yet his actions during the years since won't speak in his favor.”

That was what really frightened her. She
could
believe he'd done it, even if she didn't want to.

“You need to talk to him about it. You should talk to your mother, too, get it all out in the open.”

That would be difficult, and he knew it.

“This could destroy what's left of my family,” she said. “My mother and I are only now starting to get along—to a point. I was hoping our relationship would improve, not be torn to pieces again.”

“Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better.”

She slumped back on the sofa. “I should never have come home.”

“Do you really mean that?” He bent his head to catch her eye. “There's nothing here you like?”

“Even you scare me,” she said.

He sat up straighter. “
Me?
Why?”

“Because I like you too much.”

She held herself so rigidly, as if she was braced for the worst, which told him she thought her admission would scare him away. And he couldn't blame her. She'd been able to rely on so little in her life.

He lifted her chin with one finger. “That's not a problem,” he said, and kissed her.

That kiss had to be the longest, most sensual kiss he'd ever given a woman. He loved the taste of Maisey, the way she parted her lips at just the right moment and leaned into him to accept his tongue. She was trying to patch up her battered heart enough to trust him. That was a start.

But he knew this situation with her family could blow up in her face—and if that happened, he wouldn't be enough to keep her on Fairham. Then all the things he was beginning to imagine—coming home to her at the end of the day, giving Laney the mother she needed and Maisey a child to love, perhaps even getting her pregnant with a second child—would disappear, too.

25

M
aisey woke up to the feel of Rafe's hands sliding possessively over her body. They hadn't made love when they went to bed. Maisey's thoughts had been so deeply mired in what she'd learned about her brother and Annabelle, she'd been grateful when he hadn't made any advances. But she was feeling far more receptive now.

Almost everything about Rafe was intoxicating to her—the way he smelled, the way he touched her, the way he moved with so much coordination and confidence.

“I wonder if I was ever really in love with Jack,” she murmured. “At least...by the end.”

He lifted his head to look down at her. The sun was just beginning to pierce through the blinds, but she knew there was enough light for him to see her expression. “What do you mean by that?”

“What I feel when you touch me is so...potent.”

A flash of white suggested a smile as he said, “I'm glad you want me.”

“I'm sure a lot of girls want you. Not every guy looks like you do in a pair of jeans.”

She was teasing him. She expected him to make some sort of funny retort. But he remained serious. “The physical side of what we have is undeniably great, but...I'm worried about other things.”

“Like...” He seemed genuinely troubled.

“Even if I work hard, I may never match Jack's income, Maisey. And I'll certainly never be able to give you the kind of life you knew growing up.”

“The funny thing is...Jack and I were happier
before
we had money,” she said. “So that's all I want, Rafe. I just want to be happy again.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Then I'll see what I can arrange,” he said, and as he made love to her, Maisey experienced the most liberating sense of letting go. It felt as if she was soaring effortlessly through the air, confident that, when the time came to land, he'd catch her.

“A girl could get addicted to you,” she said when he rolled off.

He took her hand to kiss her fingers. “Just any girl?”

She grinned at him, and he grinned back before getting up to go to work.

* * *

Maisey wasn't feeling quite so content
after
Rafe left, not when everything she'd learned last night pushed its way to the forefront of her mind. She had to get up, too, had to go to work. But she wasn't looking forward to seeing Nancy. At this point, Nancy would probably be feeling more sympathetic to Keith than she was.

Or maybe not. Rafe had told her Keith had called from Coldiron House. Something must've happened between him and Nancy, or he wouldn't be at home.

Unless he'd gone back to tell their mother about those pictures... God, Maisey hoped not. His texts said he wanted to apologize. But the timing made her uncomfortable.

She thought of how he'd torn out of Smuggler's Cove, how he might've hit her if not for Rafe, and wished she could obliterate that memory. Not only did it fill her with renewed shock and outrage, it made the idea that he'd pushed Annabelle to her death more believable, and the possibility that he was marshaling his forces against her more frightening.

Except for the other night, she'd never been afraid of her own brother. But he seemed even more unpredictable as he got older.

Or had she never really known him? Would he go to Josephine and make her aware of the threat Maisey posed now that she was learning the truth?

Concerned that he'd do exactly that, she crawled out of bed, threw on the T-shirt Rafe had discarded when they'd gone to bed and hurried to the living room to find her phone. She'd gotten Dinah's number when they'd bumped into each other at the grocery store. Maybe what Dinah had learned would help Maisey navigate this dark labyrinth. Maisey didn't want her mother and brother teaming up against her. They were formidable enough on their own...

Dinah didn't answer but called back almost immediately. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I was potty-training Justy.”

“How's it going?”

“I'm not sure it's wise to bribe kids, especially with M&M's first thing in the morning, but I'm desperate.”

“He's only two, isn't he? A lot of kids are older than that by the time they're fully potty-trained.” Maisey had read so many books on parenting when she was expecting Ellie that she could've cited chapter and verse.

“Believe me, he's ready. He knows what he's doing when he goes in his pants. He
should
be potty-trained by now, but he's making me work for it.”

“Good luck.”

“The joys of motherhood, right?”

Maisey flinched and quickly changed the subject. “I got your note last night.”

“Yeah, I was hoping to catch you at home, but you were gone by the time I returned. Where were you?”

She didn't want to tell anyone more than she absolutely had to. “Rafe's.”

“I thought so. I would've walked over, but I wasn't sure you'd want me barging in. Or if you'd want him to know what's going on.”

“Thanks for being careful about that,” she said without admitting she'd already told Rafe. She'd probably still be keeping it from him if he hadn't been the one to find Dinah's note.

“Okay, good. Because leaving that note was a little awkward.”

“Awkward?”

“I promised I wouldn't say anything to anyone about your sister, but...I called Chuckie after I left your place, and he said something I thought I should pass along.”

Maisey sank into Rafe's easy chair. Expecting someone to keep something like that from her own husband would probably be asking too much, so the inclusion of Chuckie didn't upset her. “And that is?”

“Before I tell you, are you sure you want to take this further? I can only imagine how upsetting it must be to...to learn what you're learning.”

“My relationship with my mother has always been complicated, Dinah.”

“This can't be making it any easier. I feel bad for you. But what I have to say isn't about your mother. That's the reason I thought I should speak up. It's not fair that she's getting the blame when...when I'm no longer convinced she deserves it.”

Because it was Keith... “What is it? What do you have to tell me?”

“There
is
someone who saw part of what happened.”

Maisey had started to recline in Rafe's chair. At this, she raised it again. Ranger Phillips had said there was no one else. “Who? And how, considering where it happened?”

“Lindsay Greenberg is Chuckie's mother's friend. She claims she was searching for seashells for a picture-frame project when she heard Gretchen cry out...”

“Lindsay Greenberg?” Maisey broke in.

“You don't remember her? She's taught voice lessons on the island for years.”

An image appeared in Maisey's mind—of a woman who had flyaway hair and a twinkle in her hazel eyes. No one loved music or crafts more than Lindsay Greenberg. “I
do
remember her. I took a few lessons from her when I was twelve—before I faced the harsh reality that I'd never learn to sing.”

“I'm sure Lindsay didn't tell you that you couldn't sing. She encourages everyone.”

“No, I came to that conclusion myself.” And Josephine had agreed with her. Maisey remembered her mother saying something like, “You'll find what you're good at eventually.”

Once Maisey had begun writing children's books, she thought she'd found her niche. But...

“So what happened with Lindsay?” she asked.

“She heard a hysterical scream—a call for help—and climbed around that next rocky outcropping to find Gretchen Phillips standing at the top of the cliff with you and your brother. Your mother wasn't even there.”

Maisey rubbed her face. So far, this was exactly what Ranger Phillips had told her.

“Maisey?” Dinah prompted when she didn't respond.

“I'm here.”

“I felt you should know, even though...even though the rest of what I have to say might not be any better.”

“Go on...”

“She recanted it later, and said it was just an accident, but Gretchen first claimed it was your brother.”

Maisey let her breath seep out. Sure enough, exactly what she'd expected. “He was only four, Dinah.”

“Just because she said it doesn't make it true, Maisey.”

This brought Maisey's head up. “What do you mean?”

“You'd think Gretchen would be beside herself after witnessing something so horrific, wouldn't you?”

“Wasn't she?”

“Not really. Lindsay told my mother-in-law that her response seemed sort of...choreographed. She was
acting
upset, but when Lindsay looked closer, there were no tears. And when Gretchen didn't think anyone was paying attention, she seemed more agitated than heartbroken.”

“How was Lindsay able to see clearly enough to make all these observations?”

“She was the one trying to comfort Gretchen while the police searched for your sister.”

Maisey couldn't stay seated any longer. She got up and began to circle Rafe's living room. “Gretchen could've been in shock. That'd make anyone act strange.”

“That's what Lindsay assumed. She even understood why Gretchen might want to move away from Fairham after that. But she told my mother-in-law that the more she thinks about that day, the more suspect Gretchen's behavior seems. She said Gretchen kept asking her, ‘You weren't there when she fell, were you?' Lindsay assured her time and again that she hadn't been able to see what happened, but she thought it was a weird thing to ask.”

What could this mean? Surely, Gretchen would have no reason to
lie
. No one with any conscience would implicate a child if that child was innocent.

“I'm not saying Gretchen pushed her,” Dinah said. “But what if it
was
an accident? What if she was afraid she'd get blamed, since she was supposed to be watching you three? So she made that up about Keith? That's plausible, isn't it? No one would want to be blamed for that kind of negligence, especially when the child who died was a Lazarow.”

“And Keith was a difficult child—always throwing tantrums and acting out—so he was a handy scapegoat,” Maisey said.

“She didn't like him. She admitted it several times, in private, to various people before she moved. Said Annabelle was the sweetest thing in the world, but he was a little monster.”

Chilled, Maisey perched on the couch and slipped her bare legs up under Rafe's T-shirt. “It doesn't sound to me as if
she
was much of a gem.”

“I never met her myself, so I can't say. But...I felt you should hear what Chuckie told me before you assumed the worst about your mother.”

The fact that Gretchen had blamed Keith so that people wouldn't believe she'd allowed such a terrible accident was one thing. But blackmailing Malcolm afterward? That took her deception, if it was a deception, to a whole new level.

She couldn't be
that
bad, could she?

Maisey grimaced at her own thoughts. What was she thinking? There were people who'd do whatever they could get away with. The true-crime shows Jack loved to watch proved that, didn't they?

“Would Lindsay ever talk to
me
?”

“I don't know her that well personally,” Dinah replied. “But I've seen her at my in-laws a few times, and I can tell she's a good person. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you approached her.”

A buzz alerted Maisey to an incoming call. She didn't want to be interrupted right now, but she couldn't ignore it. The new call came from her mother's cell.

“Dinah?” Maisey said.

“Yeah?”

“I've got to go. But thank you. I appreciate everything.”

“You're welcome. And if you'd like me to go to Lindsay's with you, I will.”

“No, I'd rather not overwhelm her. I'll call you once we've talked, though.”

After they'd said goodbye and Maisey switched over, she held her breath. What had Keith told their mother? Was Josephine about to disinherit her and order her out of Smuggler's Cove?

Josephine was tough enough to do it.

Closing her eyes, Maisey released her breath. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

Her mother was upset. It was apparent in the terseness of those three words. “What—what do you mean?”

“I'm at your door. The scooter's here, but you're not answering.”