Page 3 of Bad Mother

Sienna knew that to be a little white lie since he let Gavin, who was amazing at cards, play online poker under his name and split the profits, a fact they kept from Mirabelle. Sienna didn’t like keeping secrets from Mirabelle, but she also knew that the extra money Argus told her had come from ticket sales and put into her earnings lessened Mirabelle’s stress and allowed them to pay all their bills, even if there wasn’t much left over at the end of the month.

Sienna was old enough now to know that the tricks they performed were just that, but she couldn’t help watching them practice with pure delight in her heart and a gasp on her lips when an act went just right.

There was something enchanting and beautiful about the choreography alone when it came to a perfectly executed show.

“Today...,” Mirabelle repeated. Sienna opened her mouth to speak, but Mirabelle grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come with me. I have an idea.”

“An idea? Mirabelle...” Mirabelle pulled her into her bedroom at the back of the trailer. She let go of Sienna’s hand and stepped up to a dresser next to the door. This room smelled even more strongly of lily of the valley, and her bed featured a quilt of yellow roses. Mirabelle opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out a small wooden box. She opened it and reached inside, and Sienna noticed a stack of photos, but Mirabelle covered them with her hand before Sienna had a chance to see who they were of. Her family? Mirabelle didn’t ever talk about her family. She didn’t have any pictures hung—except of Gavin—and she and Gavin never had any relatives over for holidays or anything else, but maybe she’d had a falling-out with them.

Sienna wanted to ask, but she also didn’t want to invade Mirabelle’s privacy.

Mirabelle brought something out of the box and held it up. Sienna blinked. It was a beautiful, delicate silver bracelet with pale-purple stones. “Do you think your friend would like this?”

Sienna’s gaze flew to Mirabelle’s. “Like it? Oh yes, but I couldn’t—”

“You can, and you will.” Mirabelle took Sienna’s hand and pressed the bracelet into it. Without letting go of her closed fist, Mirabelle looked down, seeming to be considering what she was about to say. “I know I haven’t spoken of Gavin’s father,” she started haltingly, meeting Sienna’s curious gaze, “but he was not a nice man, Sienna. He was violent and cruel, and so I took Gavin and I left him.”

“Oh,” Sienna breathed. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice small.

But Mirabelle smiled. “Don’t be sorry, love. I’m not. Our life is better without him.” But something shifted slightly in her expression, as though she wasn’t entirely sure of what she said.

“And...and you have Argus,” Sienna said, wanting to make the haunted look in Mirabelle’s eyes disappear.

Mirabelle’s worried frown transformed into a gentle smile. “Yes. Yes, I have Argus.”

Mirabelle let go of her hand, and Sienna opened it, the bracelet catching the light and sparkling up at her. “It’s not an expensive piece,” Mirabelle said, her words rushed. “But more than that, it has...difficult memories attached to it. I should have given it away long ago.” She stared at it, appearing troubled for a few moments before seeming to catch herself, her smile brightening. “It must be fate that I kept it and that it should belong to Amybeth. Let it make new memories. Good ones.”

Sienna considered it doubtfully. It was lovely. And Amybeth was kind. Sienna would love to gift it to her, but she wasn’t certain she should allow Mirabelle to give her something that—despite her words—looked valuable.

But if it was, wouldn’t she have sold it by now? There were several times she’d seen Mirabelle wringing her hands, a worried frown on her face as she’d gone through her bills. “I—”

“Oh! And I have a box that will be perfect for it too.” She grinned, pulling Sienna into a hug. “Say yes, Sienna, and you go to that party and have the time of your life. Nothing would make me happier.”

Sienna smiled back, love and gratitude gripping her so that she could hardly breathe. “Okay, Mirabelle. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

A little boy caught Sienna’s attention, breaking her from the recollection that had tears burning the backs of her eyes. God, it’d been a long time since she’d let herself get so fully immersed in a memory. The child ran from the side of one of the trailers and ducked behind a tree, holding his hand over his mouth as though to keep himself from laughing out loud as three other children turned the same corner he had, each ducking behind a tree or the side of a porch. They were playing hide-and-go-seek. Mirabelle had never let them play that particular game. It’d made her nervous, she’d said, that one of them would hide somewhereand get trapped. And she’d looked genuinely distraught when she’d said it, so Sienna and Gavin had obeyed. At least while she was home. Sienna’s lips tipped slightly, and she swallowed her emotion down as she watched the innocent game play out, the “finder” making the others howl with glee as he located them. These kids were young still. They lived and played with optimistic joy. They weren’t old enough yet to realize that others would look down on them for where they came from. They weren’t self-conscious of their secondhand clothes or their parents’ broken-down car that would likely backfire in the carpool lane and make others nearby dive for the bushes in fear that a lunatic was firing a weapon into the crowd.

Sienna’s smile melted as she reminded herself she’d be better served to stop projecting her own insecurities and cringe-inducing memories onto these children. Maybe they’d be strong enough not to define themselves by where they came from. Maybe their parents—though poor—gave a damn about them.Maybe they have mothers like Mirabelle and not like my own.

She made a pained sound of frustration in the back of her throat, turning the key in the ignition and starting her car. She didn’t have time for this right now, nor was it helpful.Whyshe had come here, she really had no clue, other than maybe to prove to herself shecould. So, fine, now she had seen it,faced it, survived it, and she could go on with her life, knowing that though it now sat closer, it still had no real power over her. It was only a place. It did not live and breathe.

She turned her car, stomping on the gas so that her tires spun, and a billow of dust exploded in a grainy cloud behind her.

If it doesn’t live and breathe, then why are you racing away as though it might find a way to chase you?But she pushed the whisper down, knowing there was no good answer.

CHAPTER TWO

“Nothing like jumping right in, I guess,” Kat said as Sienna stepped out of her car, still slightly groggy. She had expected her body to toss and turn in tandem with the turbulent emotions churning through her system her first night back in her hometown, but instead, after unpacking a bit and eating a take-out sub sandwich, she’d fallen into a heavy, dreamless slumber. So when her new partner had called at 3:14 a.m., she’d barely had the wherewithal to locate her ringing cell phone on the floor next to the bed.

Sienna walked with Kat toward the empty street under the overpass where a couple of cops stood. There was a large building across from them that appeared to be a manufacturing facility and an empty bus stop on the corner. She looked up, to where a floodlight glowed brightly from the top of the incline that sloped to the underside of the highway. “The forensics team is already here. They’re going to bag the victim up shortly, so I’m glad you’ll be able to see how she was found. I called Sergeant Dahlen, too, and she’s on her way but probably about half an hour behind you.” Kat reached in her pocket and brought out two pairs of bootees and handed one to Sienna.

The two cops guarding the scene looked over their shoulders as they approached the base of the incline, nodding at Kat and looking curiously at Sienna. She didn’t bother to introduce herself, instead heading straight to where the criminalists worked at the top, bending her head asthe incline increased and the “ceiling” got lower. As they approached the crime scene, they stopped and slipped the bootees over their shoes and continued up to where three criminalists worked, two hunched over due to the small space and one kneeling in front of a woman in what appeared to be a wooden chair, the flat area at the top of the incline just high and wide enough to accommodate her in her seated position.

What the hell?A chair, sitting under an overpass? This victim had clearly been staged.

Sienna took it all in. The older woman’s head was bent sideways, a gag in her mouth, eyes open, though downcast in an endless stare. The criminalist moved slightly as he used a tweezer to pluck something off her leg, and Sienna saw that the victim was wearing the short black skirt and white shirt specific to cocktail waitresses working at the casinos, although there were no defining logos or colors to help identify a particular location. If this woman had once been wearing a vest or another piece of uniform that would have helped in nailing that down, she wasn’t now. As Sienna peered closer, she saw two small holes on her shirt where a name tag should have been pinned, but it had either been removed or fallen off. The woman’s hands were taped together in front of her, though the tape looked loose and halfhearted, used more to secure the playing cards in her hands than to keep her restricted.Odd.Her legs were bound to the chair at the ankles with duct tape, and she had purple and red marks circling her neck. Sienna’s blood chilled several degrees. She moved a little closer, tilting her head and bending down farther to look in her eyes.

Next to her, flashes went off as one of the criminalists shot a few pictures.

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