Page 133 of Call Back

Clutching my purse to my side, I walked up the driveway to the imposing, ten-foot-tall wood door of the opulent two-story brick home. Every click of my heels filled me with confidence as I assumed a role—a young woman determined to find the truth, no matter what the cost.

I rang the doorbell and waited for a good thirty seconds before Rowena Rogers opened the door.

“Magnolia. So you found me,” she said as though she’d been waiting.

“Yes.”

She lifted her head and literally looked down her nose at me. “I suppose you’re here for some answers.”

So much for me taking charge. I gave her my own snooty look. “Some things have come to light, and I’d like to ask you about them.”

She folded her hands neatly in front of her waist. “Some things have come to light,” she mocked. “So mysterious.”

I held my temper. “I guess you would know since you’re full of mystery yourself.”

She grinned. “Touché, Magnolia Steele. Score one for you.”

I needed more than a zinger. I needed her to talk.

“I don’t have much time,” she said. “But I can spare you a few minutes.” She stepped back, moving out of the way. “Come in.”

I followed her into the marble entryway, shutting the heavy wood door behind me. She led me into a sunny room with a white marble fireplace, dark hardwood floors, and furniture in tasteful but cold shades of sage green and pale yellow.

“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to a sofa. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. Just the chat.”

“Well, I want some tea. I’ll be back.”

She disappeared through a door on the wall with the fireplace, leaving me to stew over what I wanted to ask her.

Bill. No matter what alibi he had, it all seemed to connect back to Bill.

Rowena returned five minutes later with a tray heaped with a teapot, two teacups, and a plate of cookies and scones.

I watched as she set the tray down on the coffee table in front of me, then perched on an armchair across from me and poured tea into two cups.

I gestured to the tray. “I’m amazed you put this together so quickly. It’s almost as if you were expecting me.” Even as I said the words in jest, I wondered if they were true. Had she known Colt was giving me her contact information?

She released a polite laugh. “One has to love a good electric kettle.” She glanced up. “How do you prefer your tea? The English way?”

So we were ignoring the fact that I’d already declined her offer? Was this a test to see how compliant I would be? Or was it a polite offer?

“Yes, please,” I said, hedging my bets. Might as well be polite. For now.

Rowena placed a sugar cube in each cup and then topped each one off with milk. Handing me a cup and saucer with a spoon on the side, she gave me a patronizing smile. “I believe good manners are the basis of a moral society. Don’t you, Magnolia?”

“And do you believe that Bill James has good manners?” I asked as I delicately stirred my tea, then rested the spoon on the saucer and gave her a polite smile.

Her eyes lit up, and she picked up her cup and took a sip. “I suppose you know him better than I do.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He was your father’s partner. You spent a significant amount of time with him.”

Except we hadn’t, not really, and now I could see that Momma had kept us from him. “I was a child,” I said, setting my cup and saucer on the table in front of me.

“Exactly,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “And you were a child when your father left. Children’s memories are not to be trusted. They are viewed through a skewed lens, Magnolia. You need to let this witch hunt go. You caused damage fourteen years ago, and you are blazing a path of destruction now.”

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