Page 47 of Little Buried Secrets

Whitlock turned toward me, a big grin on his face. “See, told you I speak disgruntled teenager.”

CHAPTER 19

A tearful Rae blew into a tissue, her head shaking from side to side after the discussion we’d just had about Margot’s homicide and what I knew so far. The night before, it had been hard to admit Margot was dead. Sharing the details about Margot’s murder was even harder.

“I can’t believe it,” Rae said. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Someone who doesn’t deserve to live,” I replied.

“Are the police sure about what happened? I mean, are they really, really sure?”

“As sure as they can be. Silas is thorough. I’ve never known him to be wrong when it comes to cases like this one.”

Rae turned away, her eyes focusing on a photo of Margot sitting on top of a curio cabinet. “She was so good, such a good person.”

“I know.”

Rae pushed herself to a standing position. “I just … I need a minute, okay?”

She left the room, and I sat there, the gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach mounting as I thought about what she was going through right now. No matter what I did or what I said, it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would alleviate her pain.

I found myself in an uncomfortable predicament. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her about Grant and Coach Warren. I was desperate to ask them, desperate to solve Margot’s case. But speaking to Rae about possible suspects while everything was so fresh didn’t seem right.

I couldn’t do it to her, not after the news I’d just delivered.

Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty, and I considered writing her a quick note and making my exit. On the one hand, I wanted to be there in her time of need. On the other, I wondered if she was hoping I’d leave.

As I contemplated my options, Rae returned to the living room with two glasses of water. She handed one to me, then sat down. She took a sip of hers and crossed one leg over the other. Looking me in the eye, she said, “So, what happens now?”

“Now you tell me what you need from me and what I can do for you.”

Rae’s face turned from one of sadness to anger. “You can start by telling me if you have any suspects in my daughter’s case.”

Rae might have believed that me telling her who my suspects were was a good idea.

Once I did, however, I wasn’t sure she’d feel the same way.

“Perhaps now isn’t the best time to discuss potential suspects,” I said. “You’re already dealing with so much. Maybe you need time to process it all. I don’t want to make things heavier for you than they already are.”

Rae shook her head. “I can’t rest until my daughter’s killer is behind bars. I want to look him in the eye. I want him to know what it feels like for a mother to lose her child, even though he’ll never, ever understand the pain he’s caused.”

“You deserve that and more.”

“If anyone can bring him to justice, it’s you, Georgiana. So please, spare my feelings for now. You can’t make me feel worse than I already do. I can cry all day, and I do, but that’s not going to solve anything.”

I drank the entire glass of water she’d given me and set it down, contemplating where I wanted to begin. I hesitated for longer than she’d expected, and she leaned forward, squeezing my hand. “Don’t hold back, Georgiana. Whatever you need to say, let it out. I need to hear it. Think of it this way … if I was someone else, someone you didn’t know, someone you weren’t friends with, you’d say the things you need to say, no matter how hard, wouldn’t you?”

I supposed I would.

“I’ll stop you if it becomes too much,” she added. “I promise.”

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met,” I said.

“It’s funny you say that. I don’t feel strong. Not right now. I’m barely sleeping, and when I do, I have nightmares about … everything, and I didn’t even know then what I know now. What if this happens to someone else? It … it just can’t. We must stop it. Whether I feel strong or not.”

“I think about that too.”

She blinked at me but said nothing.

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