Page 118 of A Secret to Die For

“I agree with you, but that wasn’t the end of it. A year later, they were both going to the junior prom, and EJ’s date declined to accompany him at the last moment because she heard what happened in that car. EJ blamed Pete for talking, but it wasn’t him. For better or worse, he protected his family. It was probably the girl herself. Pete said she had a big mouth.”

“Do you know who she was?” Saralisa asked, and her voice had gone quiet, the way it tended to do when she was trying to cope with bad news.

Eryk shook his head. “I don’t believe her name was ever mentioned. Anyhow, EJ had been drinking, and when Pete left with his date, EJ took his grandfather’s car and tried to run them off the road. Ended up crashing the vehicle into a tree. After that, Pete decided to go travelling.”

“The whole family is toxic,” Saralisa whispered.

“Yes, that’s exactly what Pete said, word for word. Saralisa, I’m so very sorry for your loss. When I initially heard about the crash, I’ll admit my thoughts went straight to your uncle. I even contacted the police in case there was a link.”

“But they didn’t find one?”

“I assume they quickly ruled him out because they declared it a tragic accident just a few days later. The detective who came to see me said the weather conditions were poor that night.”

Could there be a connection? No, that was farfetched. Pete Forlani had been out of EJ’s life for over a decade by that point, Saralisa had recognised the culprit as Harless, and Claire had written a posthumous statement. Mandell was behind the incident. Wasn’t he?

I’d always thought my family was fucked up, but the Baldwins were in a whole other league.

Eryk raised his glass again. “Enough talk of the past. Let’s drink to the future. And eat! This is sernik, a traditional Polish dessert. It’s said that the king brought the recipe back with him after victory against the Turks at the Battle of Vienna.”

I leaned across to Saralisa. “You okay?” I asked softly.

“Perhaps more okay than I’ve ever been.”

That was my girl. She was strong, stronger than she even realised herself. I was in awe of both her and Gracie for not only surviving the lives they’d been forced to lead but also coming out on top.

In the future, they’d both have my support.

And maybe they’d have the Bad Samaritan fighting in their corner too.

40

SARA

Saralisa’s to-do list:

- Visit the gardens at Versailles.

- Pick up gifts for the girls.

- Dance the night away at Le Balajo.

- Drink all the champagne.

- Live out another filthy fantasy.

The call came at four p.m., Paris time. Garrett and I were sitting outside a cute café in the Montmartre, watching the world go by. Okay, Garrett was replying to emails from Tawna, who was holding the fort admirably back in Roseburg, and I was watching the world go by.

We’d spent two weeks in Poland with Marcin, dancing and walking on the beach and exploring Gdansk. Then we’d flown to Valetia to meet with Brie for a weekend since she was in town, and after that, we’d hopped on a plane to Milan, rented a car, and driven through Italy, Switzerland, and France. Because Garrett had made the arrangements, the car was a Ferrari, and our luggage was riding with the security team.

It had been the most amazing six weeks of my life, this period of limbo as we waited for the Bad Samaritan to do something, anything.

And now Parker wanted to speak with me.

“Isn’t this a little early for a chat?” I asked. What was the time over there? Seven a.m.?

“Ding-dong, the warlock’s dead.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

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