Page 72 of Not This Place

Rachel's mind raced. What was she missing? Why was Joseph so fixated on her aunt? She willed her features to remain impassive, her mind turning over possibilities like a thief sifting through a stolen haul.

"This is about the heist," she said finally. Anger and understanding mingled within her, but she held her composure. "The money."

Joseph’s silence affirmed her assertions more than any words could have. He sat back in his chair, his expression cold and unreadable, the chains rattling softly against the metal table.

"You took a shot at my aunt because of the money?" Rachel asked. Her voice was low and steady. The room was silent except for the hum of the florescent light overhead.

Joseph looked at her, his eyes narrowed to slits. He shrugged again, an infuriatingly ambiguous motion that sent a spark of anger through Rachel.

She felt as if she were circling something important.

Something critical.

But she couldn’t quite say what.

"Tell me, Joseph," she demanded, her voice remaining steady. "What does my aunt have to do with the money?"

Joseph leaned back in his chair, his lips pulling into a twisted smirk. "She's the one who started all this," he said, his voice a low murmur. He chuckled darkly, then fell silent, leaving Rachel with more questions than answers.

She watched him closely, her gaze never wavering from his face. Her mind raced as she tried to piece together what he was insinuating.

"Started all this?" Her tone was calm but insistent. She wanted clarity and he was giving her riddles. She felt a strange chill crawling up her spine though.

A strange, curdling fear settled over her.

"Your aunt," he replied slowly, drawing out each word as if savoring them. "She killed your mother."

Rachel felt as though she'd been punched in the gut. Her fingers dug into the edges of the table as she absorbed Joseph's words. She stared at him, searching his face for signs of deceit, but found only a cruel satisfaction in his gaze.

He was grinning at her, evidently pleased with her shock.

The rage building within her was like a storm ready to break. But she held it in check.

Her mother...her aunt...

"You're lying," she snapped finally, breaking the silence that had swallowed the room.

Joseph shrugged once more, nonchalant despite the gravity of his claim. "Believe what you want, law lady," he said dismissively.

This wasn't a game. She needed facts, not cryptic accusations and mockery.

"I need proof," Rachel insisted through gritted teeth. "Not your word."

His grin widened at her demand.

"She had it coming," Joseph said, grinning as if he'd just revealed a punchline. "She wanted all the money.”

She couldn’t tell if he was referencing her mother or aunt, and right now, she didn’t care, still reeling.

Rachel's heart thudded heavily against her ribcage, his words echoing in the chilly emptiness of the room. The cold, hard table felt like ice under her trembling hands.

Her world tilted on its axis. She looked at Joseph, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "that's not true."

Joseph's grin only widened, his teeth stark white in the pale fluorescent light. "You should ask her yourself," he said simply.

The icy room seemed to close around Rachel, threatening to pull her under in its unforgiving depths. Her breathing shuddered in her chest, her hands clenched so hard her knuckles turned white.

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