Page 8 of Framed

“Who?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Scarlett.”

I flinched when he called me by my first name. We were only last names and numbers to him. In here. As prisoners. Maybe he already thought of me as a free woman, but he hadn’t treated me like one since I arrived. It felt strange to sit here now, with him looking at me sympathetically, as if we were at a casual meeting and not still inside a prison.

“The people who offered me the money? They’re not good people.” Briggs frowned at me. “How much do you know about the Sinclair family?”

The Sinclairs were friendlier than most of the families that came from money and lived in Tuscaloosa. While Dad did well for himself running a tech consulting company, we didn’t come from old money. At least, I didn’tthinkwe did. I wasn’t too sure what his parents, my grandparents, did for a living. I’d only met them once in passing when my grandfather came to our house to pick a fight with Dad.

It was becoming abundantly clear that I had very limited knowledge of anything going on in that town.

How had I been this unaware? This ill-informed?

I hated to admit it, but I didn’t know much about the elder Sinclair pair either. As far as I knew, Jonathan and his wife, Wendy, were unable to have children. There was a rumor going around that Jonathan was infertile or something. I hardly paid much attention to it back then—infertility had been a problem a long way from my mind in school.

Now I wish I had listened to more of the rumors.

Jonathan’s brother, Dylan, was the current Sheriff of the Tuscaloosa County Police Department. He had a daughter my age, but she and his wife passed away a while ago after a fire struck their house. His cries of pain that night could be heard throughout the whole town. It became just one more of those things you didn’t talk about.

Like my mom.

“Their family practically founded Tuscaloosa in the early 1800s.” I frowned, unsure where he was going with this. This was one of the earliest things we were taught in elementary school. “They’re one of the richest families in Georgia and have strong political ties.” I recalled the newswoman mentioning that Jonathan had just gotten done campaigning for a senate run.

“Good, so you have a general idea.” He considered my answer with a nod as his fingers tapped faster. “They also have strong ties to some dangerous organizations. I’m not sure exactly what their role in all of this has been, but my men were able to follow the money trail back to one of their shell corporations.”

I was familiar with the term. I had overheard Dad use it during a few of the business meetings he had in his office. A shell corporation was basically a company or corporation with no significant assets of its own. It would often be formed in order to obtain loans before the real business was created.

A ghost company, in other words.

“What could the Sinclairs possibly want with me?” I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d spoken to one of them.

“I’m not sure.” He eyed me as if he wasn’t sure if I was telling the truth. At this point, I wished I wasn’t. At least I would have more information if I were lying to him. “But they were willing to pay a lot of money to keep you in here.”

A sudden stab of pain radiated through me. I realized that at some point during this conversation, I’d begun unconsciously picking at the skin around my fingernail. It was a bad habit I picked up when I was younger. Blood welled around my cuticle. I rubbed it away with my thumb and shoved my hand into my lap.

The Sinclairs paid to keep me locked up.The words sounded surreal, insane. And yet, he looked completely open right now. Convinced that he was telling me the truth.

“I want to help you, Scarlett.” His gaze shifted to my bloodied fingernail and then back up to mine.

I hesitated. But I decided to humor him a little bit. It wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. Plus, he sounded like he was telling the truth, as far as I could tell. “Setting me free. Having a third party investigate the murder. Why? What do you get out of all of this?”

“Peace of mind that I did the right thing for once,” he said gruffly. I scanned his face, but I couldn’t find any sign of deceit in his tone or gaze. “And I’ll be fulfilling the final wish of an old friend.”

He seemed sincere—or maybe he was just that good of a liar.

Either way, I believed him.

“If the Sinclairs are as powerful and dangerous as you say they are, how can you help me? Won’t they try to come after you next?”

“I always knew there was a reason I liked you.” He chuckled. “So much likeher.”

I didn’t dare ask whoshewas. I had a feeling I wouldn’t like the answer.

“You let me worry about that. I didn’t get to where I am now cowering around any suit who gets their hands on dirty money. I spoke to Athena and she informed me that if you ever got out, you would want to go to a real college. Is that still true?”

I nodded, slightly irritated that Athena had disclosed something I told her in confidence. Why would she tell a borderline stranger about that?

“Good.” He nodded. “Athena said she could help out on her end. I can’t send you to Princeton, but I can at least give you an opportunity to start fresh in a new town at a reputable school known for their…” His voice trailed off. “Discretion.”

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