Page 9 of The Pretender

He grew more serious. “I’m very sorry to hear about your sister’s death.”

He’d just committed an almost unpardonable sin in her book. “Murder.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“She was murdered.” Gabby’s fingers curled and tightened around the ends of the armrests. “She didn’t fall out a window or drown in the pool. Someone killed her.”

He opened his mouth as if he was about to respond, but her uncle jumped in. “We’re all well aware of how she died, Gabrielle. I, for one, have studied the reports.”

Of course he had, and he blamed her. Gabby didn’t need to hear the words. They were right there in every sentence, in every look. He’d come to his conclusions the day after the murder and told the investigator. As soon as he knew she’d been on the island, visiting Tabitha, he shut down on her. Any emotion, any genuine feelings he had for her died that day. He’d never said another kind word or offered one second of affection or comfort.

He even tried to have her barred from Tabitha’s funeral, but that didn’t work. Gabby had been prepared to make a scene. The minister had stepped in and soothed the rising tensions.

“I’m not going to agree to finalize anything and distribute assets while questions remain,” Stephen said.

As if she cared about any of that. He could have it all if he’d stop hating her for ten minutes and work with her to find Tabitha’s killer. “About me, you mean.”

The Harrison guy scoffed. “He doesn’t mean—”

“He does.” It was sweet but hugely naïve for the guy to think her uncle didn’t choose each word for maximum damage. The object of this game, of being on the island together, was emotional torture. He wanted her to suffer and was willing to go sentence by sentence to do it.

“The police have failed to find your sister’s killer.” Stephen folded his arms over his chest and glanced around the property.

“I’m aware of that, yes.”

His gaze whipped back to her. “The case is open, but the police have limited resources.”

Oh, she got the message. “But you don’t.”

“Mine are better.” For the first time in months, Stephen smiled. This topic clearly made him happy when nothing else could. “As such, I have hired an investigator to conduct a complete review of the evidence and facts. You may have been told that he would be here tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She forced her voice to stay calm even as her insides jumped. Her mind took off on a frenzy of planning. The things she wanted to check and do. Her movements would be restricted, if not impossible, as more people—people paid by Uncle Stephen—descended on the island. She glanced at the guy who stood there, acting as if this wasn’t the most awkward family conversation ever. “That still doesn’t explain why you need to be here right now.”

“Please call me Harris.” He smiled again, this time less bright and more with a touch of something that looked almost like empathy. “The court has imposed a rather tight timeline for valuation. I need to be here, on the grounds, until every item is catalogued and inspected.”

“And you will stay out of his way,” her uncle ordered.

She didn’t bother looking at her uncle. Not when he talked to her like she was five.

Her attention settled on Harris. She stared at him and he stared back. “I figured you were here to babysit me.”

Harris winced. “That’s not really in my job description.”

The longer she watched, the more unsure she became. A sensation Gabby couldn’t really name or pinpoint hit her. She didn’t buy for a second that his work on the island was about tables and lamps. But she didn’t get the sense he was a mouthpiece for her uncle either. If anything, he seemed unimpressed with Uncle Stephen’s bluster. More than once, Uncle Stephen spoke and Harris looked ready to roll his eyes.

“The investigator is your bigger concern. He will need to speak with you at length.” Stephen shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “He will also have access to family information, including any history that may be relevant.”

The jab wasn’t subtle. Gabby got the point. Every accusation from over the years would be dug up and thrown at her again, including the one that changed everything. “I do have a phone. Your guy can call me.”

“No more running, Gabrielle. It’s time this family faces the truth.”

She dug her nails deeper into the wood of the chair. “I’m ready if you are.”

Without another word, Stephen turned around and stormed off. He walked down the paved path and kept going. Halfway across the lawn he pulled his cell out of his jacket pocket and put it to his ear. Between the distance and crash of the waves, she couldn’t hear a word.

She watched his outline and that familiar bounce to his step. He always carried his body with a could-take-on-anyone confidence. Today was no different. Fury had surged through him until there was almost nothing left inside him. She’s heard rumors about his marriage being in trouble. That his quest for vengeance had overcome everything else.

Under all the hurt Gabby had to admit Stephen was just one more victim in a series of family tragedies. One more Wright who got buried under all the pain and despair. Still, it was hard for her to feel anything but frustration because he chose his current lonely course. He refused to listen to her.

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