“The shed is on her property,” Rob said, his fury building once more. “Of course her prints—real ones—will likely be there.”

  Gibbons shook his head. “I know you don’t want to see this, but how do you explain what I suspect is the murder weapon being under the sink?”

  “I have no idea how it got there,” Grace fairly shouted at the man. “I’ve never seen that knife before.”

  “Even though you apparently used it on your ex-husband?” Gibbons demanded.

  “No!” Grace fell back a step as if his words had pushed her.

  “Grace,” Rob warned. “Don’t say anything else.”

  She stared at him as if he’d landed a blow as well. “Please,” he added. “He’ll just use it against you.”

  “Grace couldn’t have killed him,” Cara argued. “I was with her. We were here working.”

  “You worked all night?” Gibbons asked smugly.

  Cara didn’t hesitate. “I’ve worked overnight on projects with Grace numerous times. Yes, I was here. She never left her room that night.”

  “You do understand, Ms. Gunter,” Gibbons cautioned, “that perjury carries a very stiff penalty.”

  She put an arm around Grace’s shoulders. “It’s the truth.”

  Judging by the shock Grace hadn’t quite been able to conceal from her expression, Rob wasn’t buying it. He understood Cara wanted to help, but she was likely only making things worse.

  Gibbons chuckled as if he too saw right through the ruse. “We’ll see, ladies. Maybe the two of you worked together that night. The question is, did your joint efforts result in murder?”

  Chapter Twelve

  11:50 p.m.

  It was almost midnight.

  Grace paced the parlor in her private quarters. Thank God Liam was asleep.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  She hugged herself, rubbed her arms in hopes of warding off the chill that was coming from deep inside.

  Adam was dead. Some part of her considered that she should be at least a little sad because he was Liam’s father. But it was difficult to feel anything other than relief when put into perspective with who and what he had been. A killer. One who’d murdered at least four women. Why would she feel anything for his loss?

  The world was a better place without him.

  And what about Joe Pierce? He—a guest—had been murdered on her property. She closed her eyes and rode out the new wave of defeat. She wasn’t sure the inn could survive all that was no doubt coming. The media would flock to the inn like buzzards to roadkill as soon as the news was out. The world would learn the truth about who she was and her troubled past.

  No one in this little community would look at her the same. She would never be trusted again. And how could she blame them? She had basically lied by omission to every person she’d come to know since her arrival. Not one person had known the truth about her and Liam.

  Now she would have to face the repercussions of that somewhat self-serving decision. Protecting Liam had been her primary concern, but she couldn’t deny wanting to protect herself as well.

  Diane, Cara, the Wilborns—they had all believed in her, trusted her.

  Grace slowed in her pacing. Cara had lied to protect her. She and Grace hadn’t had the opportunity to talk privately since the unexpected announcement. The CSI team had arrived and then the medical examiner’s van. This end of Mockingbird Lane was lit up like a Christmas scene from a horror movie. She had been exiled to her quarters. Diane and Cara were ordered to separate rooms in which they would be staying until this was sorted out.

  Her fingers went to her lips to stop the trembling there. Where had the knife come from? The only thing she had put under the sink was the locket she’d found on the porch. But instead of finding a locket, Gibbons had found a knife. The same one that may have been used on Adam and possibly Mr. Pierce. Grace didn’t have to wonder if that would be the case. Of course it would be. The knife wouldn’t have been under her sink otherwise.

  How did this happen? Who had taken the locket?

  Whoever did this, it wasn’t her. She could not have killed anyone.

  Her fingers formed a fist and she pressed it hard against her lips to hold back the scream building in her throat.

  Rob was still standing by her. Nothing Gibbons had thrown on the table had seemed to give him pause. Grace was very thankful for his loyalty, but she didn’t deserve it. She had lied to him as well.

  How foolish she had been to think that perhaps in time they might be able to have some kind of relationship beyond friendship.

  “So much for that,” she grumbled under her breath. She paused at the window and stared out over the backyard. The entire area was lit up like an airport runway. Sergeant Snelling’s team of forensic investigators was swarming every inch of the property. Spotlights had been brought into the shed and placed around the yard in strategic places. Beyond all that was the sheer darkness that spanned out over the cliff. There were no stars to see tonight. The sky was a blanket of black with a mere sliver of a moon barely visible.

  Her chest tightened with the loss she understood was coming. Loss of business for certain and loss of friendships no doubt.

  She supposed she could sell the place and take Liam somewhere new to start over again. But it would be more difficult this time. He wasn’t an infant anymore. He would be sad...and so would she.

  A soft rap on the door had her hurrying in that direction. She hoped it was Rob and that there was news of who had done this latest awful thing.

  She swung the door open, but it wasn’t Rob.

  “Cara.” Grace glanced beyond her. “Gibbons won’t be happy if he finds us talking.”

  Cara walked in, causing Grace to step back. She quickly closed the door, then hurried to the window and closed the shutters. Cara wandered to the fireplace, stood there staring into the flames.

  Grace joined her, feeling a sudden need for a glass of something strong. She rarely drank alcohol at all, but if there was ever a time, this was it.

  “Why did you lie to Gibbons about our being together?” she asked her friend.

  Cara looked taken aback. “Lie?” She shook her head. “I didn’t lie. Don’t you remember? You called me right after the police left. You were so upset about someone coming onto the porch. You were horrified that Liam had gotten up without you knowing it and saw the person.”

  No. Grace wouldn’t have forgotten that...

  “Oh.” She nodded. “Of course. I—I remember.” Liar.

  “We sat right here for hours. Had some sherry. You were so upset.” Cara shook her head again. “I felt so bad for you. You finally fell asleep on the sofa about two thirty and I left.”

  Grace’s heart sank to her feet. Cara must be right. She had fallen asleep on the sofa. Cara couldn’t have known that if she hadn’t been here. “You shouldn’t worry so much about us, but I do appreciate being able to count on you at even the worst of times.”

  Cara put an arm around her shoulders. “We’re family. And I meant what I said about Liam. If you want me to take care of him at my grandmother’s cabin until this is finished, you know I would be happy to do so.”

  Maybe she should have taken Cara up on this offer already. How selfish to want to keep her child close with all that was going on.

  “You’re right. I’ll talk to Rob and Gibbons and see if the two of you can leave in the morning. Liam doesn’t need to be here with all this.”

  How did she protect her child from the rising insanity? From her own dance on the edge of reality?

  Send him away from it. It was the only logical step.

  “Sounds good.” Cara hugged her. “Would you like me to prepare some hot chocolate for you? You might sleep better. Or I could pour us some sherry. We’d both sleep well then.”

  “Thanks, but it’s late. You go on. I’ll be fine.”

  Another knock at the door drew both Grace’s and Cara’s attention there. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Grace hurried to the door. She hoped no other bodies had been discovered.

  It was a miracle both remaining guests hadn’t requested to check out already.

  Grace opened the door to Diane, who stood there clad in her pajamas and wringing her hands.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I saw the light under your door and figured you couldn’t either.”

  Grace opened the door wider. “That seems to be the trend tonight.”

  Diane came in and Grace closed the door.

  Cara waved. “Same here.”

  Diane hugged her arms around herself and joined Cara at the fire. “What a mess.”

  Grace wandered to the double windows that overlooked the backyard. She cracked open the shutter just enough to see. “Maybe we’ll hear soon what they’ve found out there.” Besides Pierce’s body, she kept to herself.

  “I’m still reeling,” Diane confessed. “I mean, I hated Joe for what he did. Frankly, I never expected to see him again. But to have him murdered—right here where I work—it’s beyond bizarre.”

  “I get that,” Grace admitted. She left the window and joined the others in front of the flames. She stretched out her hands, feeling chilled to the bone. “I thought Adam was going to prison for the rest of his life. I never thought I’d have to see him again or have him invade my life.”

  “How—” Cara snapped her mouth shut as if she’d thought better of what she’d intended to ask.

  “What?” Grace searched her face.

  “It’s nothing,” Cara assured her.

  Grace hated that she felt annoyed by her friend’s response, but she did. Maybe only because she was on the edge already. “Ask whatever’s on your mind. Please.”

  Cara searched her face for a moment. “You never noticed anything off about him? Nothing that made you the least bit uneasy?”

  Grace had gotten that question before. So many times. She stared into the flames. “I wish I had. But the truth is, he seemed perfectly normal. He was funny, charming, thoughtful. I know it sounds crazy, but he acted as if he really wanted to take care of me. Especially after he found out about the baby. It was like he’d been waiting for that moment his whole life. He fussed over me continuously.”

  She couldn’t say more. The words she’d said already had her insides wrenched too tight. She wished none of it were true. She wished she had never felt anything at all for him. That she’d never known him...but then she wouldn’t have Liam.

  How did one put that in perspective and voice it to another person?

  “You didn’t know,” Diane said. “My situation was nothing on the caliber of yours, but I believed in Joe. I trusted him completely. I had no idea he would go so far to get the story. It was like nothing else mattered, especially not another person’s life or my feelings.” She looked to Cara. “Have you ever had anyone betray you that way?”

  Cara laughed. “Only once. But then, once is enough, isn’t it?”

  “More than enough,” Grace agreed.

  “So true,” Diane murmured.

  “You two should get some sleep,” Grace suggested, feeling the need to be alone. She was confident she wouldn’t sleep, but she needed to think. To figure out where she went from here.

  Diane hugged her. “See you in the morning.”

  Grace hugged her back, then did the same with Cara. “Thanks.” She drew back, looked from one to the other. “Both of you. This would have been far harder without you.”

  When Grace had closed the door behind them, she checked on Liam. He’d insisted on sleeping in his own bed tonight. She sat down on the edge and brushed the hair from his eyes. How she loved this child. She hoped so hard that she could keep him safe and somehow protect him in the future from this nightmare.

  She kissed his cheek and turned out the light on his bedside table. She wandered back to the parlor and stared out the window at the scene taking place. Maybe it would be better if she checked her guests out in the morning and closed down the inn for a while.

  She wasn’t so sure the inn would survive anyway, so what was a few bad reviews for sending guests away? No doubt both her current guests would be posting about the murder, and she didn’t blame them.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and thought about how she couldn’t remember calling Cara on Sunday night after the police had gone. Why couldn’t she remember something so important? Forgetting about registering a guest and misplacing her keys weren’t such huge deals. But to forget calling over a friend after the police had searched your property for a would-be intruder?

  Who was she kidding? It had happened before. However, she wanted to rationalize it or doubt she would have made such a mistake. She had.

  This was real and it was happening. Again.

  Grace reminded herself of all that she’d learned the last go-round. This would pass. She would make it through to the other side.

  As long as whoever had murdered Adam and Joe Pierce was found and stopped.

  She searched her memories for any discussion of associates Adam had before. Any friends who had visited their home. But there was no one. She and Adam never went out with other couples. He never had friends over. He rarely talked about work or his past. He had no family—at least, that was what he’d claimed. He’d told her his parents died when he was a baby and he’d been adopted. His adopted parents were older and had no other children. They had died when he was in college. To Grace’s knowledge, there was no one else in Adam’s life, and she felt sure Gibbons would have mentioned if he had discovered any differently.

  For months after his arrest and before her breakdown, she had followed the investigation very closely. Gibbons had checked in with her at least weekly. There had been no contacts or connections to Adam found. His employer only knew what Adam presented to him. Hard worker. Top earner. He had been friendly and charming to everyone on a very superficial level. No friendships. No hanging out. No luncheons. He only attended the work functions required of him.

  And he was the only employee who took two vacations at precise intervals without exception. He requested those days off every year. Though he’d been with the company for four years when he and Grace met, none of his coworkers knew anything at all about his life. Only his wife’s name. Not that they were expecting a child or anything else.

  Why had he kept secret the fact that he was going to be a father?

  Their whole life together had been one lie after the other, all built on a make-believe existence.

  A knock on the door had her turning toward it. Had Diane or Cara decided to come back? Was one of the guests leaving now for fear that he would be the next victim?

  Grace pushed the awful thoughts away and went to the door. She drew in a big breath and opened it.

  Rob.

  The fatigue and worry on his face, in the set of his shoulders, had her pulse racing with a new rush of adrenaline.

  “Please tell me nothing else has happened.”

  He stepped in, prompting her to step back. He closed the door, then gestured to the sofa. “Let’s sit and go over what we know so far.”

  She nodded, unable to find her voice to respond. Grace made her way to the sofa and sat. She reminded herself to breathe while Rob took the seat across from her. Her hands wrung together. This was the nightmare that didn’t want to end. She didn’t see how things could get worse, but deep inside she understood they could. Much worse.

  “Your prints were found in the shed,” Rob said, finally. “But that was to be expected since you live here and it’s your shed.”

  She nodded, knowing that was just the easy part. “What about the knife?”

  “Your prints were on the knife handle too.”

  She wanted to rant, to get up and stamp her feet. She had not touched that knife. It took every ounce of restraint she possessed to remain seated. “I didn’t put that knife under the sink. I have never seen that knife before.”

  “I know. Snelling is working on that. He believes the prints at the Cashion crime scene were planted. He’s getting confirmation on that. It’ll be tomorrow sometime before he can make an official confirmation. He believes the ones on the knife will be forged as well.”

  Relief swam through her veins. “Thank God.”

  “Grace.” Rob braced his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped between them. “We know you didn’t do this. It’s important that you understand this.”

  She managed a bumpy nod. “I hope so.”

  “You don’t have to hope. It’s a fact. No one believes you did this. Not even Gibbons. He just has to be sure before he admits as much.”

  “I’m not surprised. He was the same way before. Determined to prove I knew something I didn’t.”

  “I think,” Rob said, “giving him maybe more credit than he deserves at this point, that what he’s really trying to do is prove you don’t know anything. His methods leave something to be desired, but he’s worked some pretty nasty cases. Stuff like that changes a guy.”

  She supposed she could understand how that would happen. She nodded. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll keep that in mind going forward.” She stared at her hands, wished she didn’t have to share the next part. But Rob had been too kind and helpful to her for her to leave him in the dark. “Cara said that I called her over that night—Sunday—after the police left. She says she stayed with me for several hours, which is why she told Gibbons I couldn’t have killed Adam.”

  Rob nodded, waited for her to go on.

  “I thought she was lying for me. I don’t remember calling her or her being here.”

  Rob rubbed a hand over his shadowed jaw. “Does she have any proof that you called her? Do you have any that you didn’t?”

  She straightened, a thought occurring to her. “I can check my cell.” She dug it from her pocket and scanned the recent calls. There were no calls beyond today’s. She frowned. “Apparently I cleared my call log.”