“Hi there, demon,” she muttered. As she moved down the aisle, she swore the thing was following her. Probably one of Lucifer’s henchfiends keeping an eye on her for its Big Boss.

  As she picked up a bottle of drain cleaner she heard Beck’s voice, low and tense. When someone responded she knew why. Cole. She didn’t think he was the kind to hang around a grocery store, which meant he’d tracked them down on purpose.

  “Yer a total sleaze, Hadley.”

  “Why are you being a jerk?” Cole asked. “You can’t still be pissed about Lou. Get over it, man. That was years ago.”

  “Not to me.”

  “That’s your problem. What’s the score with the cute chick? She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

  Riley shook her head in dismay. What was it about testosterone that made guys so stupid? Cole was purposely goading Beck, like some kid who’d found the world’s largest hornet’s nest and couldn’t resist poking it with a stick to see what he could stir up. It was time to shut this down before it got ugly and someone—Beck—landed in jail for assault.

  Riley walked around the corner as if she hadn’t been listening in. “I got some window cleaner and paper towels.” She looked over at the other guy. “Cole,” she said, then walked past him. Maybe if she acted disinterested, he’d take his stick and play somewhere else.

  “How about you and me go for some ice cream, Riley?” he called out.

  In February? “No, thanks. Got too much work to do,” she said, and kept walking. Beck said something under his breath and then joined her.

  After they’d paid for their supplies and loaded the truck, Cole watched their every move from the sidewalk.

  “He’s strange,” she said under his breath.

  “He’s more than that,” Beck replied, slamming the truck gate and then locking the topper. “He’s big trouble.”

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  When Beck dialed the hospital to get an update, the nurse said Sadie was weakening.

  “How about I sit with your mother while you do whatever you need to do,” Riley offered. “I should be there if you’re not.”

  “You sure?” She nodded in return.

  He wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. It’d be an act of faith to let Paul’s daughter anywhere near Sadie again. Or extreme foolishness. Despite Riley’s assurances, there was a good chance that when he picked her up after his errands she’d be crying, ready to return to Atlanta. Desperate to leave him behind, much as Caitlin had.

  No. Not like Caitie.

  Riley was younger than Caitlin, but she’d survived more hell than anyone he knew. Caitie believed Beck was her white knight, the one who’d carry her off to his castle and keep her safe forever. Riley wasn’t like that. She was tough and had scars, both inside and out, and she’d earned every one of them. She’d learned that good guys could screw her over just like bad ones. Maybe this time it’ll be okay.

  Beck reluctantly dropped her off at the hospital, muttering under his breath the entire time that she was going to regret this gesture of kindness. He was probably right. What Riley didn’t say was that she had her reasons for wanting private time with Sadie. To better understand Denver Beck she had to decipher the riddle that was his mother.

  Riley steeled herself before she stepped around the curtain. She’d done that every time she’d visited her own mom in the last week of her life. This wasn’t much different, except this patient wasn’t eager to see her.

  Sadie’s labored breathing emanated from a body that seemed more a skeleton than a creature of flesh, her skin stretched across her bones like a pale sheet of parchment.

  “Why are ya here?” she said, eyeing Riley. “Wanna see what a dyin’ person looks like?”

  “No,” Riley said, refusing to be baited. “I already know about that. My mom died of cancer.”

  Sadie’s glower faded. “So why are ya here?”

  “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’ve always been alone. Doesn’t matter now.”

  Only because you wouldn’t let anyone close to your heart.

  “Why ya hangin’ around the boy? He got nothin’ to give ya.”

  Except his love. But that wasn’t something she’d tell his mother. “He’s a great guy who treats me well and doesn’t try to screw me over. Do I need any other reason to hang with him?”

  “He hides things, keeps things secret.”

  “We all do,” Riley replied. “You included.”

  The woman’s face wrinkled into a frown. “Ah, I see. He sent ya here to see if I’d tell ya the name of his daddy.”

  “I’m here because I want to be, not because he asked me to.” Riley sucked in a hasty breath, the anger building. “You use his father’s name like a weapon. That’s not right. It’s just mean.”

  “No respect for the dyin’, huh?”

  “I’ll respect you when you do the same for your son.”

  “Ya got a sharp bite.” The woman wheezed. “But ya only know part of it. That son of mine has done some bad stuff, but yer not willin’ to hear about that.”

  Though Riley knew she should probably cut this woman some slack, that’s what people had been doing Sadie’s whole life, never calling her on her half-truths and how she’d cruelly manipulated her son.

  “There you go, again,” Riley replied, shaking her head. “Trying to freak me out so I’ll take off. That might have worked for the other girls, but not this time.” Before Sadie could respond, she went on. “I don’t know all of Beck’s secrets, not yet, but he already told me about the two guys in the swamp. So I’m not buying into your head games.”

  The woman coughed long and hard. “I don’t frighten ya. Why not?”

  Because I’ve stared Hell in the face and you’re not in their league.

  “You just don’t.”

  “Yer not like the other one he brought home.”

  “Caitlin?” A nod. “Why did you run her off?”

  Sadie’s eyes rose to hers. “Had to find out if she was tough enough. She wasn’t.”

  “Tough enough for what?”

  “Denver doesn’t need some sissy-ass girl. He needs someone hard as nails to watch over him, keep him from goin’ bad.”

  It appeared that Beck’s mom had been vetting his girlfriends in her own peculiarly sadistic way. It was probably best that her son never knew that.

  Riley switched directions. “What do you think happened to the Keneally brothers?”

  After a long coughing session, Sadie finally answered. “I don’t think it was some critter that got ’em unless it had two legs.”

  “It wasn’t Beck.”

  “I know.”

  Then why didn’t you stand up for your own son?

  Unaware of Riley’s mental tirade, Sadie adjusted the oxygen cannula in her nose. “Talk to Lou Deming. She’s still in town. Married now, gonna have her first kid.” A pause. “She was okay.”

  That was the closest to praise Riley had heard from this woman.

  “Until Cole took her away from Beck, you mean?”

  Sadie’s expression flattened. “Yeah. She should have known that bastard was nothin’ but trouble. Denver got worse after that happened.”

  Riley made a mental note to hunt up Beck’s former squeeze and see what the okay ex-girlfriend could tell her.

  “Cole Hadley’s a lot like his daddy,” Sadie added. “He was a troublemaker too. I should know. Don’t trust that boy. He’s bad seed.”

  “I already figured that out.” Cole didn’t have a chance with her, even if he grew a set of wings and claimed that she was the love of his life.

  Sadie’s eyes drifted shut, worn out from the intense conversation. “When ya see Denver, tell that boy to get his head out of his ass . . . do somethin’ right for a change. He’s runnin’ out of time.”

  “Time for what?” There was no response.

  Riley left the room wiser than when she’d entered. Now she was even more determined to help Beck find the truth.

  TEN

  Beck’s first stop was the sheriff’s office—Donovan was out of town, so he left a message with the surly Deputy Martin. His next stop was the bank, then the post office to mail the bill payments. Every stop involved whispers from the townsfolk. He ignored them as best as he could, more worried about how Riley and Sadie were getting along.

  His last stop was the funeral home where McGovern promptly ushered him into his office, a fairly tidy space with a selection of urns high on a shelf.

  “Here’s a grand down on the bill,” Beck said, placing a cashier’s check on the desk. “I’ll need a receipt.”

  “No problem,” McGovern replied. He quickly scribbled it out and handed it over.

  A document was placed on the desk in front of Beck, and he cautiously bent over to study it as if it were a coiled snake. He couldn’t read it, at least not as quickly as would be expected.

  “What’s this for?”

  “To authorize the burial. Just sign there and there,” McGovern said, pointing at two separate lines.

  While he did the deed, the undertaker puttered around the room. “Did you hear that there’s been some lady reporter down here asking questions about the Keneally brothers?”

  Justine. “She’s been doin’ the same up in Atlanta.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good thing, you know? Best to leave sleeping dogs lie.”

  Beck finished the last signature and dropped the pen on the desk. “Easy for you to say if yer not the one bein’ blamed. Hell, I can’t even buy a pizza in this town because folks are sure I’m a murderer.”

  McGovern walked to a filing cabinet behind him and slid open one of the drawers, dipping his hand inside. “So, who do you think did it?”

  “Who knows? Maybe it was the guy who gave Nate the money for the booze and the drugs. He said if the dude didn’t do what he wanted, a ton of hurt was goin’ to come down on him.”

  “Huh. It’s a pity Donovan never figured out who that was.”

  “Yeah, well, now he might get a chance,” Beck replied. “I’m gonna ask him to reopen the case, get this figured out once and for all. I want this damned thing off my back no matter who it takes down.”

  McGovern turned toward him now, his expression guarded. “Don’t think that’s wise, Denny.”

  “Well, it’s not yer call. Are we done here?”

  The undertaker shut the drawer. “For now. I . . . might need you to come by later.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you soon enough.”

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  When Beck met Riley in the front lobby of the hospital he searched her face for clues. It didn’t look like she’d been crying, so that was a good sign.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “Asleep. It won’t be much longer, Den.”

  “I figured. So how’d it go?” he asked, fearing the answer. If Sadie had been her usual nasty self . . .

  “It went okay,” Riley replied as they stepped outside into the sunshine. “Neither of us tried to kill the other. I think that’s a good start.”

  He shot her a quick glance. “She run her game on you?”

  “She tried. I shut her down. Your mother doesn’t think you killed those boys.”

  “She never told me that,” he replied. “Not once.”

  “Well, she has now, at least through me. She says you should pull your head out of your butt and do the right thing for a change.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “No clue.”

  There was more that Riley wasn’t telling him, but since she wasn’t really upset maybe things had gone fairly well with her and Sadie. That was a freaking miracle. He could still remember Caitlin’s shattered expression when he’d returned from buying something for supper. She’d only been with the old lady for a half an hour, but in that short time Sadie had offloaded a ton of lies and ruined everything. Riley isn’t Caitlin. It appeared the old lady had met her match for the first time in her life.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  A short time later they pulled into the house’s driveway and Beck geared himself up for another round of boxing up Sadie’s stuff. With each room they cleared he felt his old life giving way. Layer by layer, old memories were being washed clean or tossed in the trash, leaving his hellish childhood behind. If he ever had kids, he’d be damned sure they wouldn’t feel the same about him.

  They tore into the cleaning like possessed people. By the time Riley checked the clock it was nearing five in the evening. They’d just begun to make plans for dinner—Beck thought a quick trip over the state line might be a good idea since no one would know him there—when his cell phone rang. He looked at the dial and his face went ashen.

  “Beck.” A few seconds later he said, “We’ll be there.”

  He scooped up his backpack and jacket and was out the door without a word. There was no need to ask where they were going—Sadie Beck was about to meet her Maker.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  The instant the truck came to a halt in the hospital parking lot, Beck turned it off and bolted toward the front entrance. Riley retrieved his keys and made sure the vehicle was locked.

  Please, let his mother say she loves him. Just once.

  Riley had always known she was at the center of her parents’ lives, and she’d felt that love from the start. Beck never had. He’d always been an afterthought, a nuisance, a child to be abandoned in the swamp like a sack of garbage.

  She found the grieving son at his mother’s bedside, Sadie’s thin, blue-veined hand engulfed in his larger tanned one. He shot a look over at Riley, then back at his mother.

  “I’m here, Sadie,” he said. “I won’t let you go alone.”

  The woman muttered something, then closed her eyes. From Beck’s despondent expression it wasn’t “I love you.”

  With each gasping breath she appeared to suck more life out of her only child, as if somehow their lives were physically intertwined. Through it all, he stood resolutely by the bed, refusing to move. Time crawled by. Five minutes, then ten. The nurse came in and checked the patient, then left on silent feet.

  There was a groan from the bed and Sadie’s eyes lit on her, reflecting a wild panic as if she’d finally realized this was the end. Riley moved closer and took the woman’s other hand. Her mom had died peacefully, surrounded by her loving family. Sadie fought for every breath, as if she was too proud to admit that her time had come. Or too frightened of what she would face when she was no longer on this earth.

  Riley bent down near the woman’s ear. “Please, make it right, for both of you.”

  The woman weakly shook her head, each breath tighter. “Keep . . . him . . . safe . . . ” When she didn’t reply, Beck’s mother gripped her hand tighter. “Promise.”

  Riley bowed her head. “I promise.”

  Then Sadie Beck took her last breath and died.

  When Beck realized his mother was gone, emptiness overwhelmed him, as if it had poured out of the lifeless body and sought refuge inside him. He’d pleaded for only two things—her love and the name of his father. Sadie had taken both to her grave.

  Tears swarmed down his cheeks, shaming him, visual evidence of what he’d lost and what he’d never had. He collapsed into a chair, no longer having the strength to stand as the bitter dampness on his cheeks scalded his face. All those years of hoping, praying that he’d been wrong, were over.

  She never loved me.

  Someone touched his hands and when he peered through the dark mist it was Riley, kneeling next to him.

  “I’m here, Den,” she said, lightly touching his face. That touch was so soft, so caring. Riley was at his side, and though he was afraid to admit it, she really cared for him, maybe even loved him. She would guard him, protect him. Keep the darkness at bay.

  “It’s over,” she said, gently wiping away one of his tears with a fingertip. “You did everything you could for her.”

  He knew what she really meant—Sadie could no longer hurt him.

  “It doesn’t . . . feel that way,” he whispered. “Why didn’t she tell me who he was?”

  “Do you think she knew?”

  Beck jolted at the question. He shouldn’t have. He’d asked it of himself enough times. “I don’t know.” It’d be like her to lie to me.

  To his surprise Riley tentatively placed a kiss on his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Den. I really am.”

  It took some time for her to dry her own tears. They weren’t for Sadie, but for her son. When Beck offered her the truck so she could return to the motel, claiming he could catch a ride after the paperwork was done, she declined. Riley heard the false bravado behind his words. She’d used that same tactic after her dad died.

  “I’ll wait for you outside,” she said.

  His grateful expression told her it’d been the right choice.

  Now, as she leaned against the truck, Riley groaned to herself. I promised to watch over him. The vows she’d made in the past had always come back to haunt her, but maybe this one would be different.

  Why did Sadie trust me? If his mother hadn’t loved him, why did she care what happened to Beck after she died? Maybe she didn’t know how to tell him she cared. Or maybe she thought love was a weakness.

  Riley called Grand Master Stewart and he answered on the first ring. “Beck’s mom has passed away,” she reported. It sounded so clinical.

  “I’m sorry ta hear that. How’s the lad doin’?”

  “He’s hanging in there, but it’s really hard for him.”

  “Aye. Anythin’ else I should know about?”

  It wasn’t her place to tell the master about the Keneally brothers and Beck’s supposedly sordid past, so she mumbled, “Not really.”

  She wasn’t sure if Stewart caught the fib or not, but he didn’t press her on it. “Call me when ya have the funeral arrangements in place. Harper and I will be sendin’ flowers.”