Page 18 of Silverstorm

“You’re right,” he admitted. “This news is certainly going to make the police want to take a closer look at you.” He didn’t add that Brady, in particular, would most likely be one of those police pointing the finger in her direction. “But I know you didn’t have anything to do with this. And I believe in the justice system. I believe that if we let it take its course, you’ll be proven innocent. And I want to say right now, how sorry I am for the loss of your father. You might not hear this from many of my colleagues, but I want to acknowledge your grief and let you know you can count on me if you need any support.” Jude knew this to be true, once a person became a suspect in a crime, an officer of the law found it hard to show compassion toward them, lest they be seen as taking a bias or not being able to disconnect their personal from their professional feelings. Jude knew he was in jeopardy of doing exactly this. Letting his growing personal feelings for Aria overshadow the job he still had to do.

“Thank you, Jude.” Aria sat up straight, blowing her nose one final time. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face blotchy from crying, and her hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders. In this moment, she looked so alone and defenseless. And beautiful. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“But you need to know something else,” she said. “I’ve been sitting in my bed trying to work out who would do this to my father.” Her gaze drifted to stare out the window at the darkening garden, and Jude was shocked to notice the encroaching dusk. He hadn’t realized the time. Aria took a deep breath and said, “I admit, I was shocked by the news of his death, but you may have already worked out, I wasn’t overwhelmed by grief. Our relationship was tricky, at best. Hate is probably too strong a word, but I definitely didn’t love him. Unlike my sister. I love her, and I wish things had been different between us.” She looked back at him and he saw the truth in her eyes.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that Tango was always scared of something, or someone. You probably know most people think he’s delusional, and I probably agree with them. He’s always had plenty of different conspiracy theories to keep him occupied. But the one about someone wanting him dead has never changed. He was always spouting that same story, even when I was a small child. I know he and my mother used to argue about it all the time.” A shadow of pain crossed her face at the mention of her mother. “So, now I’m wondering if I should’ve listened more carefully. Tango never truly believed that my mother killed herself.”

This was interesting. At least Aria had confirmed that Tango had been saying these things for a long time now. He hadn’t been a deputy at the time Dimitra had died. But he had read the case file, however, and he knew that Hank had never bothered to look into Dimitra’s death. It’d been an open and shut case of suicide. There was a note in Dimitra’s hand, and Tango had been cleared of any wrongdoing, as he’d had an alibi that put him out of town on the day she died. The girls had both been at school. Iliana was the one to find her mother hanging in the barn at the back of the property that afternoon. Jude vaguely remembered Dimitra, because he’d seen her around town as a child. She’d had long, dark hair, much like Aria’s and a captivating smile, also like Aria. It seemed Aria had much of her mother’s Greek blood in her veins and took after Dimitra, even if she didn’t realize it.

But if Dimitra truly hadn’t killed herself—which Jude found hard to believe, the coroner had ruled it a suicide and who was he to doubt that?—then who had? Was she actually murdered? And if so, could that murder be tied to Tango’s? The implications were astonishing, and Jude’s mind began to whirl. He made a mental note to take another look at Dimitra’s file.

But something else was topmost in his mind right now. Aria had brought up the conspiracy theory thing, so maybe now was the time to ask.

“Yes, I’ve heard about his…severe paranoia,” Jude admitted. “Tango even came into the sheriff’s office early this year to make a report that he thought his life was in danger.”

Aria lifted one eyebrow, as if to say, what else was new.

“I took his statement, because Sheriff Buchanan was…busy. And he mentioned a cult called InXium. Have you ever heard him talk about this group before?”

Aria sat up straighter, pursing her lips. “Maybe,” she said eventually. “He was rarely ever specific when he was on one of his tirades. But… I think I remember him and my mother arguing one night, when they thought us girls were asleep, and I heard my mother say that word a couple of times. But my mother especially was very careful not to enable my father in any way when he was in one of his paranoid moods. She’d change the subject or take us out of the room. She clearly didn’t want us to be infected by whatever was haunting him. Sorry I can’t be more specific.” She shrugged. “Do you think it’s relevant?”

“I don’t know.” It was his turn to shrug. “At the time, I Googled the group, but then we got busy and I put your father and his crazy cult delusions out of my mind. Perhaps we need to take a closer look. Do you think your parents were involved in this group? Perhaps before you were born?”

“Anything is possible,” she replied. “I was too young to remember when we first moved here, and I have no recollection of where we lived before. It’s funny, isn’t it, how little we often know of our parents’ past lives? Iliana might recall more, she was three when we came to Stevensville.”

Jude doubted that a three-year-old would remember much. Was Iliana a victim of this same misadventure that’d plagued her father? And perhaps the mother, too? Had something from his past come back to haunt Tango and his family?

Aria was talking again, and Jude tilted his head to listen. “But I was trying to make a point earlier.” She prodded his knee to get his attention. “After my mother died, my father warned me and Iliana a few times to be careful, that we might be next. But of course, we never took him seriously. Should I be taking him seriously now? Now that Iliana is missing. Am I a target too?”

Jude stared at her. He’d never even considered this aspect before. Should Aria be in protective custody right now?

CHAPTER NINE

ARIA FELT FAINT. She hadn’t eaten anything all day and her stomach was like a deflated balloon flapping around inside her. This morning, she hadn’t been able to stomach anything more than a cup of coffee. Either her morning sickness was getting worse or, more likely, it’d been the impending trip to the sheriff’s office to give her statement to Detective Brady that was making her feel ill.

Now it was past one in the afternoon, and she was regretting her decision not to eat even a single slice of the toast Jude had brought to her. So far, neither Brady nor his offsider, another police officer from Missoula, had thought to offer her anything more than a glass of water. She wondered where Jude had got to. She knew he was busy, but it would’ve been nice to catch even one glimpse of his friendly face.

Brady said something, but she didn’t catch it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you could be more specific about the exact time on Tuesday morning that you called in to see your father,” Brady said slowly, as if speaking to a moron.

“You’ve asked me that question three times already,” she snapped, finally having had enough of his constant badgering.

“Yes, and you’ve been unable to give us a clear answer every time,” Brady snapped back. “First, you thought it was nine o’clock in the morning. Then you changed your mind and said it was closer to ten. Which is it, Miss Cusack?”

Aria glowered at him. “I don’t know,” she grated out between clenched teeth. “I already told you, the clock on my car dashboard is broken.” More to the point, she hadn’t looked at the exact time, because she had nowhere else to be that morning. No appointments to be at, no job to be ready for, just the day stretching out ahead of her with only the prospect of sleeping in her car that night on an empty stomach. She hadn’t even bothered to open her phone to check the time. She barely looked at her phone anymore. Why would she when no one was messaging her, or texting her, or phoning her? And she was certainly staying away from social media. She wasn’t about to broadcast her downfall to anyone, and she didn’t want to see any of her so-called friends back in Portland going about their happy, carefree lives.

“When is this going to end? I’ve told you everything I know.” Aria slapped a hand on the table. She’d had enough of this bullshit.

Just as Brady turned cold eyes toward her, the door opened and the face of the female deputy—Aria couldn’t remember her name—appeared in the crack. “Time for a break, gentlemen?” The deputy raised her eyebrows, but even Aria knew it wasn’t really a question.

“I still have a few more—”

The deputy held up a hand, stopping Brady mid-sentence. “I’ve had lunch delivered for everyone, it’s in the break room. The milk bar down the road does these amazing sandwiches. I’m sure everyone will benefit from a break. You can always recommence in half an hour,” she said brightly.

“Thank you,” Aria said gratefully.

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