Page 129 of Crosshairs

“I’m going to get dressed while you two, uh, eat,” Gran said.

The kitchen was quiet as her dad poured his coffee and then helped himself to a roll. She glanced toward the door, half tempted to leave.

“Stay,” he said. “Please.”

What? He had eyes in the back of his head now? “How—”

He turned around. “I knew what you were thinking. You always run when you don’t want to deal with something. But today I want you to hear me out before you run.”

A protest died on her lips. He was right about that. Best to get it over with. “I go first,” she said.

He looked at her, a question in his eyes. “Okay...”

“I really am sorry for what I said Saturday night, and forthinking you’d broken in and tried to steal Cora’s diaries. I had nothing to base my accusation on.”

There. It was done. And now she stared at her clasped hands, waiting for the fallout.

“I accept your apology.”

She held her breath, waiting for thebut. When it didn’t happen, Ainsley raised her gaze. Wait a minute. There was no accusation in his eyes. She rubbed her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts.

“I would like to know why you believed I would ever consider harming you or Cora.”

Why had she been so quick to believe it? “You wanted the diary, and I wouldn’t give it to you.”

“And you thought I was willing to kill you to get it? Never mind.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Your expression says it all. When you caught Sonny in Cora’s house, you were expecting it to be me.”

Heat flamed her face. She couldn’t deny it, but how could she have been so far off base? “Linc didn’t expect you, and I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions without more evidence,” she said. “Was Sonny blackmailing you?”

“Not blackmailing, but he was selling the diaries to the highest bidder, and there were only two bidders,” he said. “I had no idea he’d stolen them from Cora. Said he found them in an out-of-the-way antique store between here and New Orleans. He made me believe Kingston wanted the diaries to use against me in the campaign, and I was trying to keep that from happening.”

“That wasn’t true?” she asked.

“Oh, it was true Kingston wanted the diaries, all right.” He gave an ironic laugh and shook his head. “You know why Kingston wanted the diaries? Same reason as me. Pride.”

Ainsley frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“His wife is involved in several women’s groups that support minorities, president of one, and to Adele Kingston, perceptionis everything. She would be embarrassed if the diaries ever came to light. He was willing to pay whatever it took to get his hands on them.”

Remembering the woman, Ainsley could believe it, but maybe there’d be a generation one day that wasn’t fixated on pedigrees and family trees. “How did you find that out?”

“I picked up the phone Sunday afternoon and called Kingston.”

“And he told you all that?”

“Not in so many words, but enough for me to read between the lines.”

“I’m proud of you for calling him,” she said.

His lips curved upward in a tentative smile. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you say that before. Thank you.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “You’re different.”

He nodded slowly as he wrapped his hands around the coffee cup. “Been going to church again ... and listening to your grandmother. If I had a do-over, I’d do so many things differently, starting with our relationship. I hope it’s not too late to mend it.”

Was it? It would take time. “God did part the Red Sea,” she said with a wry grin. “But it won’t happen overnight like that did.”

He laughed out loud. “You’re right, but I want to be part of your life.”

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