Page 43 of Fortune's Control
“There’s more. I could keep talking, but it wouldn’t do us any good. Sarah Jane doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“Here in Fortune’s Creek, or with me?”
“Both.”
We had very different childhoods. My parents loved me, while it appeared her mother considered Lilah an imposition. “You are the first person I’ve ever met in my entire life who doesn’t refer to their mother as mom, ma, mama, mommy, or some other version of the word.”
“Emma enjoys pointing that out.”
“Then you ought to listen to her.”
“What point are you trying to make?”
Lilah deserved a new family. A better one. “I want to learn more about you.” She continued picking at her swimsuit cover, so I grabbed her hand and laced our fingers together. “You interest me.”
“I’m a mess, Shane, and messes are not interesting. Also, your discussion feels like my interrogation.”
“Your mess fascinates me, and we’ll get to the discussion part, but right now, I have questions.”
She pursed her lips together and pulled her hand out ofmine. Lilah didn’t bother fiddling with her swimsuit cover this time. “I’m done answering them.”
That wouldn’t stop me. “I saw your laptop before leaving, Lilah.”
She stiffened. Guilt almost pricked me. Dean called last night to share what he learned from his friend Alex. The search on Delilah Mayberry revealed nothing worse than a few speeding tickets. That part didn’t surprise me. Her relationship with a murdered woman did.
“Lots of people have laptops, Shane, including me.”
I ignored her nervous deflection. “You’ve told me about your grandmother and your job loss. Don’t you think it’s time to tell me the other reason you came to Fortune’s Creek? Tell me about Sandy Cooper.”
Her face fell. “You researched her, so you probably know as much as I do.”
Lilah dropped onto the bed, crossing her arms and falling forward so her head reached her knees.
I sat, pulling her against my chest to soothe any fears away. It wasn’t enough to stop her palpable hurt, so I laid her head on my shoulder and stroked her hair back. Lilah’s secret, the one I wouldn’t find in any news article or police report, was why she was with me in Fortune’s Creek. “I know you witnessed a murder. Why don’t you tell me about that?”
“It happened in my apartment building’s parking lot the day I lost my job. I remember noticing how dark it was and thinking it strange. I later found out he shattered the outdoor lights.” She swallowed and rubbed her face. “I found him on top of her, and his arm was moving.” Lilah mimed a stabbing motion. “I don’t know how many times he did it, but I stood there and watched. It’s like I was there, standing next to myself and watching it through the other me. That doesn’t make sense, but that’s the only way I know todescribe it.
“He stopped once he noticed me. I couldn’t move as he came closer and closer. His black hoodie hid part of his face, but I saw his goatee. It was long, and I thought he needed a haircut. That’s a strange thought to have, isn’t it?
“He said I was next, and then a car drove up. There were lights, and he ran away.”
I struggled to find a reply that could remove the pain in her voice and found nothing. Lilah witnessed a murder, and there was no pithy response with the power to do so. “You survived, Lilah, and now you’re here with me.”
“Yes, but poor Sandy isn’t. I called 911 and tried talking to her, but it was too late. Blood soaked her shirt, and there were drops of it on her glasses.
“The police said her ex-boyfriend did it. Sandy told me she had a restraining order against him. I heard them arguing the night before and saw him leave, but she told me it was nothing - just a fight - when I checked on her. If I had called the police instead of listening to her, maybe she would still be alive.”
“That’s not true, Lilah. You can’t blame yourself for what he did.”
A faint lemon scent lay on her skin. I breathed it in and stroked her hair back. Her body relaxed at my touch, and we sat together, both silent.
“Detective Davis said he did it. Wilson Skane matched the description. The couple in the car saw him, too.”
“You sound like you disagree.” Dean passed along what he had heard, but there was no mention of an alternative suspect or shaky evidence. After we spoke, I thought the guy should have asked for a plea deal. “What else is there?”
“How do I explain?”
“In whatever way is easiest for you.”
