Page 20 of Free to Judge
The interior of the mansion is bustling with nervous energy as the various teams that make Amaryllis Events flit about. A new intern passes by, diligently replacing a floral arrangement Uncle Phil pieced together with a new one. The smell of cake permeates the air as Aunt Corinna and her team craft another masterpiece of edible art. As we walk toward the grand staircase, I note the door to Aunt Emily’s studio is closed, but who knows if that’s due to her having a client or to avoid the tension thickening the air.
After we ascend to the second level, it’s easy to understand where the core of the tension is coming from. My father is pacing back and forth, cell glued to his ear. Caleb and Jon are off to the side, trying to remain invisible while locked in a hushed conversation.
Even as I want to walk by them without a word, Jon turns his head and catches my eye. His face holds so many emotions, I can’t separate them. Is it relief? Regret? Or worse, complicity? I steel myself against the urge to confront him, knowing full well that whatever game was unraveling needed careful maneuvering.
“Glad you made it,” Caleb calls out, waving us over with a grim expression.
“What’s the point of doing this here?” I demand as we approach, skipping any of the typical family banality until I get the answers I need. My eyes lock in on my cousin’s face. Every ounce of disgust I feel is aimed directly at him.
Jon opens his mouth to speak, but Caleb interrupts, “Conian claims he wants to let bygones be bygones. Says it’s in everyone’s best interest.” His tone is caustic, but I know better than to think he isn’t aware of every player, every moving piece. Even the one they have the least control over.
Me.
A sardonic smile twists my lips. “Peace, huh? How noble.” My gaze never leaving Jon’s face. “But peace requires trust, and trust requires loyalty. We all know that’s something that’s not in my playbook right now, Uncle Caleb.”
Jon shifts uncomfortably, feeling the weight of my words. That’s when I hear a snort from the top of the stairs. My mother and Aunt Cassidy are standing on the landing, watching the scene play out. Drawling, I tack on, “For being a master of manipulation, I think you overplayed your hand, cousin.”
Jon flushes. “You might not trust me now, but trust this. Cooperating with Declan Conian is imperative.”
“Imperative? Interesting, Jon.” What he clearly realizes is I don’t trust him, not after today. For a man who treated me my whole life as if I were his second sister, he didn’t put my welfare first.
Before any of us can utter another word, my father barks out, “Conference room. Now.”
As the members of my family continue to spar with words, the tension in the room thickens. Observing all of them, I realize I’m not just a player in their game, but a pawn. Somehow, someway, I got caught in the crossfire of something I don’t quite understand.
But I will.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
If I werein the room with them, I suspect the killer looks Kalie is aiming at her cousin would be aimed in my direction instead. I much prefer watching it all unfold from the prime seat in Hudson’s secure space, as Kalie verbally decimates her cousin with icy precision for not prioritizing their family.
Then poor Jon is blasted with a searing wall of disdain by her fiercely protective mother andhismother before their husbands cut them off. “You don’t appreciate the delicacy of the situation.”
Kalie leans forward. “Would you say I’m smart, Dad?”
Scrambling to make up points, Keene doesn’t recognize the trap he’s about to fall into. “Of course. You’re brilliant, sweetheart.”
“Then stop insulting my intelligence by patronizing me. You’re knee deep in something, aren’t you?”
Keene doesn’t reply. Instead, Jon jumps into the fray. “I was just trying to protect you from him, Kalie.”
She dismisses him with a single glance. Through the hidden camera Caleb apparently planted in the room years ago to monitor the coming and goings of strangers into his wife’s domain, I can see how her actions cut him to the quick. Instead of addressing Jon directly, she turns to the refined older man at her side. “Did I tell you what Jon did when they arrested me?”
“No.”
“That’s because the answer is nothing. He stood back and tried to blend into the crowd.” Her voice is glacial.
“That’s not true, Kalie,” Jon protests. He’s cut off by Keene. “That’s not how you explained it, Jon.”
Kalie lifts her phone, then lets it clatter to the table. “Oh, it’s too bad someone had all the footage of today’s events wiped already, or I could show you exactly how he had my back. I mean, with family like this, who needs enemies.”
“That’s quite the harsh judgment, Kalie,” Caleb interjects.
“Really, Uncle Caleb? Because I’m just calling it like I lived it. A few hours in a holding tends to clarify things.”
“Jonathan,” Kalie’s mother hisses before she turns on her nephew like a viper ready to strike. “You knew your cousin had been arrested, and you left her there to…do what?”
He firms his lips, not answering. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. Not without endangering all of them. Every man in that room except for one knows that.
