Page 130 of Cruel Riches

I pressed my lips into a thin line. “Yes. She moved to California and married an accountant.”

Peter sighed and lifted one shoulder in a resigned shrug. “Can’t say I blame her. She believed I was innocent when they arrested me, but I’m guessing that changed after a while.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize for being the bearer of bad news. And like I said, I can’t blame her.” He hesitated and rubbed his jaw. “What about…?”

He trailed off again, and I raised a brow. “Sascha?”

“Yes. Sascha,” he replied. “God, it feels so strange to say these new names. Anyway, does she believe that I killed all those people too?”

“I think so. But Alexis doesn’t,” I said hurriedly, feeling as if I had to bring at least a glimmer of hope to this man’s tragic existence. “She always thought you were innocent. She’s actually been working on some sort of scheme to prove it and clear your name.”

“My little Lexie,” he said softly. The tiny smile was back. “How did she find out about all of it?”

“From the letter you wrote to her, I think.”

His eyes snapped up to mine. “Letter?” he said, cocking his head.

“She told me you wrote letters and sent them to your lawyer to pass on to the girls when they got older. Don’t you remember doing that?”

“Of course I do,” he replied, brows furrowing. “I’m just surprised they received them, that’s all. I wasn’t sure they would.”

“Well, they did.”’

His shoulders drooped, and he slumped back against the wall. “That’s a relief,” he murmured.

I furrowed my brows as I watched him. “Why didn’t my mom ever tell you anything about your family?” I asked. “Like the name changes, for instance.”

“She said it would be better if I tried to forget about them as much as possible, seeing as I was never going to see them again, unless we managed to identify the real killer and clear my name, which we’ve never been able to do,” he replied. “So she’s never kept me updated on their lives. I don’t even know what my girls look like anymore.”

I nodded slowly. It seemed needlessly cruel to keep that sort of information from him, but then again, I didn’t know the whole story.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Peter said, correctly reading my expression. “My life isn’t a total nightmare down here. I have everything I want to stop me from going mad. TV, DVDs, books, music. Your mom comes down to keep me company, too, when she has spare time. Sometimes she even cuts my hair and helps me shave. Gotta say, though, I actually like the beard now.” He rubbed the hair hanging from his jaw and smiled again.

“What about food? It can’t be healthy eating packaged or canned stuff all the time,” I said, gesturing to the trash pile in the far corner.

“It’s not all processed junk. When your mom isn’t traveling, she brings me proper meals, and when she’s away, she leaves me enough food and water to fend for myself. I’ve got a microwave and a kettle, so I can cook a few things and make tea and coffee.” He nodded toward the kitchenette before looking back at me. “Seriously, Nate, she’s done her best to take care of me, and I completely understand the reasoning behind her keeping me away from my family and the rest of the outside world. I accepted it a very long time ago.”

I raised a brow. “Really?”

“Yes.” He nodded firmly. “The Golden Circle are still out there somewhere, because we’ve never been able to nail them, so if I ever tried to get out of here and contact my wife or kids in any way, they’d find out, and then I’d be screwed. My family would be in danger too. So it’s better that they forget about me and believe I’m dead, for their own sake.”

“I guess I can see the logic in that, but it’s still pretty fucked up,” I muttered, wondering how the hell my mother could’ve gotten away with hiding something like this from me for so long.

I’d never once suspected she was up to anything strange or shady. I’d never even seen her walking over to this part of the estate before.

“Nothing I can do about it. Like I said, if those people ever find out I’m still alive…” Peter trailed off and used one finger to make a slicing motion over his throat.

“Right. So what happens now?” I asked, lifting my hands. “Are you expecting me to forget about this and leave you down here?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.” Peter’s voice had turned gruff now, and as he waited for me to reply, he dabbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“What do you want?”

“You said you know Alexis, right? And that she’s been investigating what happened to me?”

“Yes.”

---