Page 27 of Lone Star Secrets

But one look at Birdie’s husband, Roger, and Angel knew the man wasn’t going to easily let that happen. He kept a protective arm around his wife as they walked back downstairs, and he shot Angel and Presley a few glares that weren’t hard to interpret.

Don’t do anything to hurt or upset my wife.

So, if Angel insisted they go to the cops, Roger would likely just lawyer up, and it could be hours or even days before they found out what had happened. Angel needed to know now because he was battling his own need to keep someone safe.

Mia.

With Birdie’s blood on the knife, then maybe he’d be able to clear Mia’s name here and now. And while he was hoping, he added that this conversation didn’t come back to legally bite him in the ass.

With Melanie leading the way, the seven of them went downstairs and to the back of the house to the kitchen. It had been updated since he’d lived here, not in a high-end kind of way, but the white appliances looked fairly new, and the old linoleum floor had been replaced with gray wood planks. It still had that homey, welcoming feel.

There were plenty of memories here, mostly good, of the delicious meals that Melanie had cooked for them. Nothing was simmering on the stove today, but there was the scent of coffee.

“Excuse me for just a minute,” RJ said, looking and sounding as frazzled as Melanie. “I need to run to the bathroom before we get started.” And he headed out of the kitchen.

“Should I pour us all cups?” Melanie asked, motioning toward the coffeepot. “It’s fresh, and I have some scones.”

They all declined, but Birdie asked for some water. Melanie got it for her, and they sat at the huge table. Birdie gulped down nearly half of the water, set the glass on the table, and ran her fingers over the outside surface. What she didn’t do was launch into an explanation.

“This is very hard for my wife,” Roger said several moments later, just as RJ came back into the room. “And FYI, I didn’t want her to come here. I have lawyers who can handle this sort of thing.”

Bingo. Angel had been right about Roger being the lawyering up type, and it was a reminder for him to throttle back on the cop attitude. If Roger took Birdie out of there, they’d still get the answers since she would be questioned by the cops, but Angel wanted to hear what she had to say now.

Birdie moved her hand to Roger’s and linked her fingers with his. “Kenton was going to try to frame the two of you for his murder,” she finally said.

Of all the things that he’d expected the woman to say, that wasn’t one of them. Judging from the surprised expressions, no one else other than Roger had been expecting it either.

Birdie paused a long time before she continued. “I went up to Kenton’s room to give him a piece of my mind about what he did to Mia.” Another pause. “I’d been with Kenton. I’m not proud of that, but I’d been with him, and I wanted to know what the hell he was thinking when he and I were supposed to be together.”

Another surprise. Angel had had no idea that Birdie and Kenton had been lovers. And that was puzzling in a different kind of way. Usually, his foster siblings couldn’t keep that sort of thing a secret. But then, someone had kept Kenton’s death a secret all these years, so anything was possible.

“You were jealous?” Mia asked. “Because if so, I didn’t lead Kenton on or anything. I was firmly hooked up with Angel.”

“I know,” Birdie assured her. “Melanie told me how it had all played out, and I went to confront Kenton about it.”

“About what time?” Ruby asked.

“Only about fifteen minutes after the attack.” Birdie stopped, drank more water. “I didn’t knock on his door. I just barged right in, and I saw the blood. Kenton had cut himself and was letting the blood drip on the floor. He’d already flung some spatter onto the walls and his bed.”

“He cut himself?” Melanie pressed her now trembling fingers to her mouth. “Oh, God.”

“Yes, that was my reaction,” Birdie muttered. “He yelled at me to get out and tried to shove me out of the room, but I held my ground and demanded to know what he was doing. He said he was going to make some people pay and pay hard. He said they’d regret ever dicking around with him.” She paused again. “He had Mia’s knife, and I tried to grab it from him, but I ended up cutting my hand on the blade before Kenton jerked it out of my reach.”

So, that’s how her blood had gotten on the knife.

Well, maybe.

All of this could be bullshit to make it seem as if she wasn’t a killer.

“What happened then?” Angel prompted to get her talking again.

Birdie did, but her hands were trembling now, too. “Kenton punched me, hard, in the stomach, and he put the knife to my throat. He said if I told anyone what I’d seen in his room, that he’d kill me. I believed him,” she added in a whisper. “I believed him, and I ran. I hid in the attic while I tried to calm down and think of what to do.”

Angel nearly demanded to know why she hadn’t gone to RJ or Melanie. Or why she hadn’t called 911. But one look at Roger and he throttled back. He tried to plaster on his poker face.

“And what did you end up doing?” Angel settled for saying.

Birdie opened her mouth to answer, but Roger spoke first. “I’ll remind you that my wife was a teenager who’d just been violently assaulted by a predator. She was almost certainly in shock.”

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