Page 81 of Best Kept Secret

"Yes, Mira, I canreallydo that. What? You don't want me to?"

I thought about it for a very short moment. "No, I want you to. I just can't believe you can do something like that."

Beau fidgeted with his phone, and then handed it to me.

It was a news article from a local newspaper from some place called Sentinel. The headline read:Richard Carre found dead, shanked by inmate.

The story went on to talk about how Carre was a Sentinel resident who had been arrested numerous times for domestic violence, and had recently been convicted of raping a minor.

I gave him his phone back. "You did this? You're not lying?"

"Why would I lie?"

I slumped in the bar stool. "Why are you telling me this? I could get you into trouble."

"Because I trust you," he said simply, and a few pieces of my broken heart slammed into one another.

He trusted me. What did that mean?

It means that he trusts you. Of course, he does. He knows you won't go to the police.

But even as I made light of it, I knew that Beau was giving me something he didn't give anyone. I doubted he'd ever bluntly confessed to anyone about what he'd done.

"Have you done things like this before?" I asked.

Beau smiled. "Yes."

I licked my lips and nodded. "My father deserves to be in prison."

"Consider it done."

Chapter 32

Beau

Babyfuckingsteps! That's how Mira and I were working through our relationship. She'd talked to a very excited Pari over the phone. Roxy and I told Pari that Mira had been busy with work, but she'd be coming home soon. I reallyhopedI wasn't going to break my little girl's heart.

"What are you doing here, Beauregard Bodine?" Nina Davenport cornered me before I managed to get to the brand-new cafeteria at Savannah Lace, holding a box ofrasgulla, a Bengali sweet, which was Mira's favorite. I'd had them shipped from Nathus Sweets in Atlanta.

"Hi, Nina."

"What's in the box, Beau?"

"None of your business."

She narrowed her eyes and sniffed the air. "It smells Indian."

"Maybe."

"Are you going to bother my cafeteria manager?" she demanded.

"No, ma'am. I'm gonna make her day." I sighed and opened the box to show her the goodies inside.

Nina crossed her arms, glancing down atrasgullaslike I was holding some kind of contraband. The syrupy white orbs sat nestled in their tray, soaking in a pool of sugar syrup. They were soft, delicate, and sweet as sin. During that amazing month we'd spent together, wrapped in each other, Mira had told me about her favorite Bengali dish. I hadn't forgotten. Like I could forget anything that had to do with her.

"Rasgulla?" Nina lifted an eyebrow, her sharp blue eyes flicking up to mine. "Where'd you get these?"

"I'm impressed you know what these are." I let my amusement show. "Had 'em shipped from Atlanta."

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