Page 17 of The Night Before (Savannah 1)

“This is my home.”

“I know, I know, but it might be better if you got out of town, moved out to the country, stayed with Mom at Oak Hill.”

“You mean ‘lay low’?”

“I didn’t say—”

“I’m not a criminal, Troy,” she insisted, forcing herself to her feet and steadfastly shoving aside the doubts in her mind.

“Just a victim.” His lips pursed in repressed anger. “Always a victim. Jesus!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have called you,” she spat.

“Why did you?”

She reached for a bottle of water in the refrigerator and twisted off the cap. “The police didn’t want me to be left alone.”

“So you called your brother?”

“You were the closest.” Sometimes Troy was a royal pain, but then weren’t all of her siblings? She’d known it had been a mistake the minute she’d dialed his office. She took a long pull on the water. “Let’s just get this straight. It wasn’t because you’re a male, okay?”

“Listen, Caitlyn—”

Her free hand flew up to the side of her head and she spread her fingers as if ready to ward off a blow. “Never mind, strike that. I wanted to call Kelly—”

“Kelly? Oh, for God’s sake, Caitlyn. Let’s not even go there!”

“But—” She knew she’d made a mistake the minute she’d brought up her twin.

“That would be just plain crazy and you know it!” His dark brows drew together. “Oh, I get it! You’re already looking for an insanity defense. Kelly.” He clucked his tongue.

“Stop it! I’m not guilty. I’m not insane. And . . . and . . . Josh is dead,” she added, her voice cracking. “He was a bastard, okay, I know it, but . . . there was a time when I did love him.” She felt her cheeks flame at her admission. “He was my husband. Jamie’s father.”

“Who only wanted you for your inheritance.”

The words spilled over her like icy rain. As ugly as it was, it was the truth. Oscar let out a low whimper from his hiding spot. “Please, Troy, for my dignity’s sake, leave me a few of my illusions, okay?”

To her surprise he crossed the room and placed a hand on her shoulder, but his touch was tentative, as if he were afraid that she might do something as foolish as turn to him and bury her face in his shoulder. There was hesitation in his eyes, a guardedness that never allowed her, or anyone else for that matter, too close. Two years younger than Caitlyn and Kelly, Troy, the only surviving son of their parents, had a huge burden to carry on his muscular shoulders. “It’s not that easy, Caitlyn. Your illusions tend to get you into trouble. Today isn’t the first time. It’s just the most serious.”

“You’re right,” she admitted and felt a sliver of regret for her anger. “Look, Troy, thanks for coming today. I needed to talk to someone and I thought I could count on you. I suppose I could have called Amanda. Her office is nearby, but, well, as much of a workaholic as she is, she sometimes works at home on the weekends. Besides, she’s always so busy.”

“And I’m not?”

Caitlyn managed a smile, the remainder of her outrage dissipating. “You’re the boss at the bank.”

“All the more reason for me to be there. Even on a Saturday.” But the fingers resting on her shoulder squeezed her gently, reminding her that they had a bond. “You know I’m here for you . . . I’m just not very good at the emotional support thing.”

“That’s all that macho-male posturing you’ve been doing since you were around twelve,” she said. “You’re like a porcupine, though. Bristly on the outside, soft in the middle.”

“And Amanda’s pure steel all the way through?” he asked, then checked his watch and scowled at the dial. “Look, I’ve really got to get back to the bank. I’ve got a client coming in soon.”

“I know. I’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Why don’t you go stay with Mom for a few days, just until the police figure out what’s going on and the vultures outside”—he hooked a thumb toward the front of the house to the windows visible past the foot of the stairs—“find other carrion to feed on.”

“Nice analogy,” she muttered, but followed his gaze nonetheless. Through the curtains and glass Caitlyn watched the newswoman in the purple dress walk toward the van. The cameraman was stowing his gear in zippered cases.

“Don’t be fooled. The minute those guys leave, more will show up.”

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