Page 99 of The Woman at the Funeral

“Bullshit,” Danny snapped, charging forward.

Ronny’s arm shot out, stopping him from getting to me.

“We know you have them.”

“You took everything of Matthew’s,” I reminded her. “Even the thingsIbought for him.”

“You have them. In that safe.”

“What safe?”

Danny, moving faster than his mom this time, grabbed the flashlight on his way to me, then cocked it and cracked me across the face with it.

Pain exploded.

My arms shot up, wrapping around my head, trying to protect myself from more blows.

Only to expose my side and get another hard knock to my ribs. My breath flew out, and it didn’t seem possible to take another one.

“We need her capable of talking,” Ronny scolded, yanking the flashlight back. “But I love your passion and dedication to this family,” she said, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Why don’t you go keep an eye outside while Blair and I have a little chat?”

We both listened to him leave.

I was still trying to draw a proper breath when Ronny turned to place the flashlight on its end so the light shined upward, illuminating our little corner of the garage.

Her hands patted her pockets, finding her pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

“You know what is driving me nuts?” she asked as she started to pace in front of me, seemingly confident in my inability to get up. “Why the hell were you squatting in that hellhole? Was it a guilty conscience? Knowing you lived a floor above Nico when you were going to sell him out?” She took a long drag. “Or were you worried a bullet meant for him might find its way into your swanky apartment?”

“Keep wondering,” I said, glaring at her as my cheek and rib throbbed.

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Just tell me where the papers are so we can be done here. I have a house on the beach waiting to be snatched off the market.”

“How can you be so cold?” I asked. “He saw you as a mother figure. And you’re going to get him murdered.”

“He hadeverything. While me and Tom, we slaved away day in and day out to barely have two nickels to rub together at the end of the month.”

“He had money,” I agreed. “But he didn’t have amother.”

“It wasn’t my job to be that to him.”

“I’d be impressed with your ability to compartmentalize things. If it wasn’t so evil. You watched him grow up.”

“Not my problem he went into the family business.”

“Wow.”

“It’s amazing how motivating a couple million dollars can be. And now you are the only one standing between me and the life of luxury. I won’t let you stand in my way much longer.” She paused her pacing to look down at me for a long minute. “Matt has barely been in the grave. And you’re already shacking up with another man.”

“Your husband wasstill alivewhen you screwed around on him.”

“Did Matt tell you that?” she asked, jaw going tight.

“Your sister, actually. You shouldn’t make your margaritas so strong if you want people to keep your secrets.”

God, it felt good to snap back at her.

After years of swallowing back my true feelings, of letting her say horrible things about me, but never clapping back because I didn’t want to piss off Matthew.

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