Page 153 of Call Back

Her chin quivered. “He killed my parents, Magnolia. Him and these two”—she gestured to Bill and Rowena—“and the others. They killed my parents.”

Her words split something inside of me. Was she talking about my father? I’d learned a lot of terrible things about my father, but was he capable of murder too?

“I didn’t kill anyone!” Bill protested.

“What about those poor women?” Belinda asked. “What about Emily and Amy?”

“You were the anonymous tip?” Bill asked in disbelief. “I didn’t kill those women, Belinda!”

“Then why were those files about Emily and Magnolia on your desk?”

“A week ago, I got an anonymous email telling me Emily, you, and Magnolia were in danger. I knew Emily had been Magnolia’s attorney, but I hired a PI to find out more information about her.”

“Why wasn’t there a file for me?” she asked.

“Because I know all about you, Belinda. Or I thought I did.”

“Did you know my parents invested in the Jackson Project?” she asked.

Bill’s face drained of color. “No.”

She shot him a glare. “Brian Steele talked my dad into investing everything he owned. My dad even borrowed money to put into it. To say he didn’t take the loss very well is an understatement. He was an alcoholic, and when he lost everything, he got depressed. He and my mother were killed in a car accident—a head-on collision that killed the man in the other car. My father had been drinking, but the police called it a murder-suicide. I was five when I was sent to Mississippi to live with my impoverished, invalid grandmother.”

“Magnolia didn’t do that to you,” Colt said in desperation. “She’s done everything in her power to help you. Why would you hurt her?”

Belinda started to cry. “I want to hurt him like he hurt me.”

“Then use Roy,” Colt pleaded. “That bastard has hurt you more times than either one of us can count. Use him.”

“Because he doesn’t love Roy like he does Magnolia. She’s the only one who can draw him out.” She turned to me with teary eyes. “I thought Bill was the serial killer too. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Colt asked.

“I promised she could get her revenge. For what Bill did to her ten years ago.”

“What?” Colt gasped. Then his eyes turned murderous. “What did you do to her?”

Bill’s eyes widened. “I never hurt you, Magnolia. I swear to God, I never hurt you.”

“I know,” I said, trying to figure out how to defuse this situation. “I know it wasn’t you.”

If my father was about to walk through that door, I didn’t want him to walk in on this—on me being held at gunpoint by the person I’d considered my best friend. And I sure didn’t want her to get shot.

“Belinda. I need you to look at me,” I said.

She turned her attention to me.

“Now listen to me. Are you listening?”

She nodded.

“You need to put that gun down. You’re going to get hurt, and I’ve lost too many people to lose you too.”

“But . . .”

“No. Give it to me, and we’ll deal with my father together.”

She hesitated.

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