Page 11 of Sweet Revenge
When he reached for Evie’s hand, she crossed her arms over her chest, remembering what Declan said about his suspicions.
“Ah, yes. Declan must have told you about my initial report.” McGee shot a quick look at Declan. “My apologies. I meant no disrespect.”
“What initial report?” Nessa wondered.
“He thought Dad murdered Mom and then shot himself,” Evie replied, voice clipped.
McGee inclined his head. “I did, but I don’t think that anymore. Come, sit.”
He gestured to a small round table ringed by four chairs and waited until they all took their seats before producing a folder from a stack and flipping it open.
“I don’t want to get into all the details,” McGee began, eyes on Nessa before moving to Evie, “but after getting a better look, your father inflicting these wounds on your mother doesn’t make sense. They’re too frenzied, hurried. Some shallow, some deep, like first there was some hesitation, and then there wasn’t. Your father probably surprised whoever it was, and they shot him.”
“Why would they stab her and shoot him?” Evie wondered as Nessa wiped at tears with the back of her hand.
“Weapon of opportunity, I think. Then more time to react to your father coming home. I can give you the full report.” McGee turned to Declan, who glanced up from his phone and nodded. “Later. For now, let’s discuss the funeral arrangements.”
McGee closed that folder and opened another one, pulling out brochures. Nessa nodded intently, eyes wet with tears, but Evie couldn’t stop thinking about who could have done this. Probably an attempted burglary. That kind of thing happened all the time in a city like Philadelphia, and while it was a nice neighborhood, it wasn’t impervious to crime.
“Evie?” McGee called, and she surfaced from her thoughts to everyone staring at her.
“Yes, sorry.”
McGee smiled softly. “Not at all. I said the priest will be here shortly. Why don’t you two take a look at the caskets in the next room over there, and when he arrives, I’ll bring him out to discuss the service.”
Evie blew out a breath, rising from her chair when Nessa did. The room was set up like a display case, and caskets in varying colors and wood grains lined the walls like a macabre parade.
“Pick a casket,” she mumbled, watching Nessa circle the room to inspect each one.
“You okay?” Declan asked softly in her ear, making her jump.
She hugged herself tightly. “Of all the ways I used to picture myself coming back to Philly, this didn’t make the top ten.” She sighed. “I would’ve had to do this at some point. Or Nessa would have. Children bury their parents; that’s how it goes. She just turned fifty a few months ago.”
“Your father threw her a big birthday party at the restaurant.”
Evie smiled, rubbing a hand over the deep pang in her chest. “She told me about that. That’s why I called. To wish her a happy birthday.”
“I—”
“The O’Brian girls.”
Evie turned at the croaking voice of Father Michael as Declan quickly stepped away from her. The priest had been ancient when she was a girl; he must be held together with prayers and luck at this point.
He used to take her confession and warn her of the carnal sins of the flesh. Little did he know what she got up to in her spare time. Her gaze drifted to Declan. Or with who. Father Michael was supported by a younger priest with dark hair and dark eyes who looked vaguely familiar.
“I was so sorry to hear about your parents. They were good people. Generous,” Father Michael added, his breathing strained.
Evie wondered how many times over the next few days she was going to have to listen to platitudes about how wonderful her dead parents were. It made her want to bolt again.
“If you’ll excuse me, this is Father Charles, newly ordained.”
The younger priest offered his hand, and recognition dawned. She blinked in surprise. “Charlie? Charlie Ryan? I never would have figured you for the cloth,” she added. He’d run wild with Declan and his friends as a boy in a way that would have made the saints blush.
Father Charles smiled affably, ignoring Father Michael’s disapproving grunt as he shook her hand. “Declan and God saved my life years ago. I felt I owed them both.”
“Let’s sit,” Father Michael said, shuffling over to the table. “Discuss what you’d like for the service.”
Nessa folded herself neatly into a chair, hands clasped on her lap so the wedding ring on her finger glinted in the overhead light. Evie slid a look to Declan, brows raised. She was going to have to ask about that later.
