Page 4 of Evidence of a Folktale

“You think?” Briar looked on the verge of tears. “Blown up, Bel? You were almost blown up?”

“The kidnapper placed explosives around the property,” she explained. “He hoped to raise the death toll when Wendy and ultimately the police started searching for John and Michael. I nearly died when the IEDs were triggered, but Eamon saved me.”

“Oh my god, Isobel.” Briar used her full name as she rested a hand on her back. “Oh my god. I recognize your line of work is dangerous, but blown up? I’m going to be sick.”

“That’s why I don’t tell you everything,” Bel said.

“But you should. I’m your sister. I should know these things. Maybe don’t tell the others, but I raised you, Bel. You can talk to me.”

“I know. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

“I realizeI’m busy with the boys, but you were my honorary kid first. You can always come to me.”

“But I don’t want to scare you.”

“News flash, baby sis. I’m always scared. I was afraid when Dad was on the force, and now I worry about you. It’s part of loving a cop.”

“I think that’s happening to Eamon,” Bel said. “He blames himself for everything, including taking me to the island where I met Charles Blaubart. He thinks Charles targeting me was his fault.”

“I don’t know the whole story. Clearly.” Briar gave her sister a pointed look. “But how could he have known that surgeon was a lunatic? And as for that Abel guy? That wasn’t Eamon’s fault, either. Falling in love doesn’t warrant a kidnapping, so unless I’m missing something, he isn’t guilty in either situation. He didn’t hand you over to those men. He took you on vacation. Plus, didn’t Dr.Victorsinvite you?”

Bel nodded.

“So someone you both trusted invited you to the island and introduced you to Charles. Eamon isn’t to blame for that. And as for the Darling case. I guess he involved you, but you’re a cop. Kidnappings are kinda your job.”

“They are,” Bel said. “Just not when I’m the victim, and that’s what haunts him… and almost watching me explode.”

“Oh god, please.” Briar shut her eyes. “Don’t say that.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.Ijustcan’t handle picturing my baby sister like that.”

“I don’t like picturing myself like that. Ireally thought I was going to die.”

“But Eamon saved you?”

“He’s saved me more times than you realize.”

“How?”

Bel froze, trying to work out a plausible answer that didn’t involve her boyfriend’s flesh being flayed from his ribcage.

“Never mind.” Briar waved her hand dismissively. “Enough bomb talk. It’s Christmas.” She shifted against her pillowsso she couldrun her fingers through her sister’s hair as she returned her focus to Bel’s relationship. “It seems Eamon isn’t to blame. Of course, I could be missing something, but is he at fault? You don’t have to tell me. Just think about it for yourself. Will you wake up one day and hate him for jeopardizing your safety, or will you wake up next to the love of your life?”

“He asked me the same thing.”

“Andonlyyou can answer that, but this story might help. We never told you because it happened before you were born. Then, once you were old enough to understand, you wanted to be a detective, so Dad didn’t want to scare you. But you know that scar on his leg?” Briar asked.

“The one he’s always had?”

“Yeah, above the knee. That’s from a gunshot.”

“A gunshot?” Bel jerked off the pillow. “Dad was shot?”

Her sister nodded.

“Dad was shot, and you never told me?”

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