Page 63 of The Pretender

That possibility didn’t work for Harris at all. Gabby was off-limits and Harris needed a few minutes with Craig and Stephen or the meeting would mean nothing.

He gestured toward the house. “We should take a look at the damage.”

Craig held up a hand. “I can come back and—”

“Craig, I doubt Stephen will want to stay on the island very long.” It was the best argument Harris had for having the two of them stick around, though he couldn’t blame the kid for wanting to run. Even standing outdoors the tension threatened to choke them all.

“I’m prepared to be here for however long it takes.” Stephen made that announcement then headed for the house. Brushed right by Gabby without saying a word. Didn’t really recognize anything but the house looming in front of him and his rush to get in there.

“At least stay for a few minutes.” Damon put a hand on Craig’s shoulder. “I have some questions.”

Craig frowned as he glanced at his watch but started walking. “Ah, sure.”

They all headed in then. Harris hung back until he walked even with Gabby. He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure she would even hear it. Her shoulders had stiffened and her hands stayed balled at her side. That energy that usually pulsed through her had faded until her skin looked dull and her eyes flat, devoid of all emotion.

She had retreated into her shell. He recognized the move now. He had no idea how to reach her, so he settled for resting a reassuring hand on the small of her back as they walked.

Only her steps slowed when they walked into the house. Stephen zoomed down the hall to the library. He hesitated before going in, tripping a little on what was left of the door’s threshold, and visibly straightened his shoulders.

Craig didn’t limit his gawking to the library. He looked around at the items on the walls and peeked into other doorways. When he got to what remained of the library he took a deep breath. Harris wasn’t sure of the significance, except that he would know as they all did that this was the room where Tabitha died. While some facts were kept out of the news that one wasn’t.

By the time Harris and Gabby got there, Stephen stood in the middle of the room. He turned in a circle, scanning the damage. His gaze finally landed on Gabby. “Why this room?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yes, Gabrielle. I am.” Stephen let out a furious exhale that matched the sharpness of his voice. “Do you have any idea what the renovation is going to cost?”

The last of the fight seemed to drain from her. She threw up her hands. “There is no reason for me to set fire to the house.”

Harris felt sick for her. On one level he understood the uncle’s frustration. The man knew part of the story but not all of it, but his absolute dismissal of Gabby ticked Harris off. “She inherits it, doesn’t she? Why would she burn it down?”

Stephen walked over to the bookshelf. “We’ll see.”

“Okay, yeah.” Craig edged his way toward the hall. “Maybe I should go.”

Nice try, kid. As if Harris would let Craig leave now. “And miss the family drama?”

“Let’s all go into the dining room for a second.” Damon didn’t give anyone an opportunity to argue. He made the suggestion then started walking.

He led the impromptu march down the hall and through the other side of the house. Except for a few scorch marks on the ceiling and some water damage, this part of the property hadn’t sustained much damage.

A long table stretched along the center of the room. With windows on two sides, the room was bright. The light bounced off the pale yellow walls. They each took a seat with Stephen at the head of the table and Damon and Harris sitting across from each other. Harris had pulled out the chair next to him, thinking he could reach for Gabby’s hand if things got rough.

Before anyone else could start, Stephen folded his hands together on top of the table and stared at Damon. “Where are you on the investigation?”

“Someone broke into the house and searched the library,” Damon said. “I’m assuming the person didn’t find what they needed because they torched the library after that.”

Stephen’s fingers clenched together. “Where were you during all of this?”

“Sleeping.”

Stephen’s fingers turned white, almost gray. “That’s your answer?”

“Yes.” Damon threw a notebook on the table but didn’t open it. He pointed the tip of his pen first at Stephen then at Craig. “I’m going to need alibis from both of you.”

“Me?” Stephen sounded appalled by the idea.

Confusion swept across Craig’s face. “Wait, why?”

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