Page 30 of Ruthless Cross

"It is. I'm the only one she has."

"What about her sister?"

"She lives far away, and she's finally in remission after a battle with breast cancer. I can't dump any more on her. To be honest, after the last time my mom fell apart, my aunt pretty much told me she just couldn't do it anymore. She felt like she'd been taking care of my mom her whole life. I was really angry with her, but there was a part of me that could understand her feeling."

Juliette had certainly had problems with the men in her life. He sipped his wine as he contemplated what he wanted to say next, something he was sure would bring the tension back between them, but the words were bouncing around inside his head, begging to come out.

"What?" she asked. "I can see the wheels turning, Flynn. You want to say something. Say it."

"You won't like it."

"I haven't liked a lot of what you've said; that hasn't stopped you. Go ahead. I can take it."

"All right. Have you ever wondered if the car accident was just an accident?"

She sucked in a quick breath, her gaze darkening. "I read the police report. It was determined to be a skid caused by the rain."

"When did you read that? You were ten years old when your dad died."

"I read it when I was sixteen, after my mom went to the hospital for the second time."

"You were afraid." He could see the truth in her eyes.

"After the way she reacted to Martin leaving, it made me wonder," she said, a defensive note in her voice. "My mom was saying the same things to me that she'd said about my dad—that he didn't love her enough, that she was sure he was cheating, and that people always left her. I not only read the report, I also talked to the patrol officer who had been the first one on the scene. He reassured me that my mother was completely sober at the time, that the rain was bad, that there was simply no evidence that she'd deliberately run into the tree. There were signs that she attempted to brake. If she'd done it on purpose, she wouldn't have tried to stop."

"Well, good," he said, hoping she was right. "Then we don't need to discuss that."

"We don't. I'm not blind, Flynn."

She looked him straight in the eye, and he felt something twist inside him. She was defiantly beautiful, and he didn't think he ever wanted to stop looking at her. Not that she was thinking about him. She was fired up over her mom.

"I know who my mother is," she continued, "faults and all, but she's not a killer. She didn't kill my dad, and she didn't kill Arthur. I know her better than anyone, Flynn. You have to believe me."

"I want to," he said.

"What else can I say?"

"You've said enough—for now. And I want you to know that I heard you."

"Okay." She paused as the waiter brought over their salads. When he left, she said, "Since we're done with my mom, let's get back to the woman my mother was concerned about most recently—Gretchen Vale. What do you know about her?"

"More than I want to know."

"What does that mean?"

"Gretchen was my father's assistant for several years before he disappeared. Even though my dad was running his stolen art through the gallery, somehow, Gretchen came away with clean hands. I thought she might have turned him in or bargained for immunity, but I found no trace of that in the FBI files. At any rate, she and her husband Stephen now run the gallery. They've changed the name and the style, but it's the same place I used to go after school, where I used to work, where my father had some of his best moments and some of his worst."

"What is your relationship with her now?"

"I don't have one. Until last night, I hadn't seen her since my dad left. At that time, I was sixteen, and she was probably about thirty. Back then, she felt like a big sister to me. She was nice to me when I was in the gallery. We had some good talks, but I never heard from her after my dad took off."

"What about her husband?"

"I was never a fan of Stephen, who was her boyfriend when I knew her. He was a wannabe artist, but he wasn't any good. My dad then hired him to do pickups and deliveries for the gallery. I think Stephen was probably involved in my dad’s schemes, but there was no evidence to prove that."

“It seems strange that no one in your dad's circle was involved. He was a one-man operation. Seems unbelievable."

"I've always thought so.”

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