Page 91 of The Unforgiven
“I think that’s her.”
Quinn turned away from the sack to look at Brett. She expected him to ask questions, to demand to know who she’d been searching for, but he stood motionless just inside the vault. Even in the dim light, Quinn noted his pallor. He looked like he was about to cry.
“Brett, are you all right?” Quinn asked. “I’m sorry if you find this disturbing.”
Brett continued to stare, his gaze fixed on the sack and its contents. “What do you plan to do, Quinn?”
“First, I must label and pack the bones. Then I will take them to a forensic archeologist, who will examine the skeleton and tell me everything there is to know about her, from what she ate for breakfast to how she died.”
“Leave her be,” Brett said. His voice shook with emotion as his gaze traveled from Madeline to Quinn and back again.
“I must tell her story, Brett. She was murdered when she was sixteen.”
“I know,” Brett said as he moved a little closer to Quinn.
“You know?” she asked, but then recalled that she’d mentioned she was looking for proof that a murder had been committed as they were leaving the hotel.
“Yes, I know. Leave her be, Quinn. Please, just walk away. No one needs to know about this.”
“Of course they do. Madeline’s story will be the subject of theEchoes from the Pastfinale,” Quinn replied as she crouched to snap photos of the remains. Since Jason wasn’t there to film the process, she’d have to supplement her narration with photos of the remains in situ. She then stood and faced Brett.
“Quinn, I know about her. I know who she is and why she’s here,” he exclaimed, shaking with rage. “I saw her. I held her fan many times, before Dad locked it in the safe.”
Quinn stood frozen, staring at Brett as realization dawned. He had the same gift. He could see into the past. “You saw her?” she whispered. The gift wasn’t passed only down the female line after all. Seth had denied all knowledge of it, but maybe it had bypassed him, or he simply had no wish to acknowledge it.
“Yes, I saw her, just as you obviously did. I hoped I was wrong. I thought I was the only one. Neither of my parents are psychic, and I had no idea this ability came down the Besson line, but once you started talking about breaking into the tomb, I began to suspect. I kept probing to see if you actually knew about Madeline or if you were on the scent of something else. I agreed to come with you for a reason. I needed to see for myself.”
“And now you have.” Quinn was still bemused, but excitement was building within her. They shared the gift. Theywere connected on a deeper level. They were two halves of a whole.
“Quinn, I need you to delete those pictures and walk away,” Brett said. His tone turned threatening, his face all harsh lines and shadows.
“Why would I walk away now, when I just found her?” Quinn asked. “Are you afraid your ability will be revealed if Madeline is discovered? No one has to know.”
“I’m afraid that my heritage will be revealed,” Brett said, bearing down on her. “This is the South, in case you haven’t noticed. Prejudice is alive and well, and I have no desire for the world to know that I’m descended from a Black slave. You might not care, but I do. I will not have the world know there’s a stain on the family name.”
“A stain? Did you really just say that?”
“Yeah, I did. I have no intention of living with this shame. Nor do I want to pass it on to my children. It’s bad enough that we lost the war and all those slaves were set free to desecrate the South and its traditions. Families like ours lost everything, and had to bow and scrape just to survive. I won’t have it be known that I’m the spawn of some ignorant witch from Trinidad.”
Quinn stared at Brett in shock and disbelief. How could she have misjudged him so spectacularly?We lost the war, he’d said, as if the war had happened in his lifetime and he’d been personally vested in its outcome. He participated in reenactments, but Quinn thought it was just something he liked to do for fun, not because he truly believed in the lost cause of the South.
She backed away from him, appalled and disgusted by this young man she’d been proud to call her brother only a few moments ago.
“You’re mad,” she said, noting the maniacal gleam in Brett’s eyes.
“I’m the sanest person you’ll ever meet,” Brett replied. “I’m also the last person you’ll ever meet.”
Quinn cried out as he pushed her with all his strength. She crashed to the stone floor of the tomb, landing against the bags of bones lining the back wall. Something jabbed in her back and her knee turned at a weird angle, making her gasp with pain. Her head shot up as she heard the doors slam.
“Brett?” she cried. “Open the door.”
No answer.
Quinn sprang to her feet and rushed toward the door, pushing on it as hard as she could. The door wouldn’t budge. “Brett, please,” she cried. “Open the door. Let’s talk.”
Quinn’s heart hammered wildly when she heard a metallic sound from outside. “Brett, open this door right now!” she screamed. And then she heard the click of a lock. This wasn’t the old lock Brett had thrown aside. He’d come equipped with a new one, ready for every possible outcome. He’d planned to lock her in all along if she proved to know the truth and failed to agree to his terms. “What are you doing?” she screeched as she pounded on the door with her fists.
Brett’s voice was muffled, but she heard him clearly enough. “Did you really think you could show up out of nowhere and ruin everything? Not only are you about to reveal a secret that will destroy my family, but you’re about to take half of what’s mine. I’ve had to put up with my father’s bullying my whole life. I’ve had to live with his incredibly high expectations and criticism, thinking that I only had to make it until I was twenty-one and could access my trust fund, and then you appeared. Beautiful. Perfect. And pregnant. You are everything he’s dreamed of in a kid. And you’re going to give him a grandchild. He’s obsessed with you. So obsessed that he’s changing his will—in your favor, no doubt. He will leave you everything: the house, the business, the investments, and I will be left with nothing. Well, not going to happen, Miss Britain 2014. I’ll tell him you left, and when hedoesn’t hear from you or get an invitation to the wedding or get to see your kid, he’ll start to hate you and turn to me, as he did when Mom finally left him after all his affairs. He’ll need me again, and he’ll appreciate me being there for him.”
