Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [11]
“So what are you thinking about so intently? Did you already forget where you parked the car?”
“I’m thinking you don’t look anything like your father or your brother,” she said.
His eyes crinkled with amusement. “You got me there. I’m adopted. My mother thought she couldn’t have children so she bought me. And then, lo and behold, she gave birth to David. Clearly she hadn’t needed to bother with me at all.”
“Is that your excuse?”
“Excuse for what?” He looked genuinely perplexed.
“For being an asshole. You were a poor, unwanted child who was passed over for the real son, and therefore you go out of your way to make everyone’s life miserable.”
He seemed more amused than offended. “Oh, I wasn’t unwanted. There were times when I think my mother preferred me, and Stephen Henry still has a soft spot for me in that selfish organ he calls a heart. I think I preferred David to be the Golden Boy. That way I could fly beneath the radar, do what I wanted, and most people never even noticed.”
“When you walked into your father’s living room the remaining guests looked at you like you were a ghost. I think they noticed,” she said.
“So they get to gossip about my return and the murdered girl, and wonder whether there’s any connection.” His voice was light, contemplative.
“A connection?” Rachel echoed, horrified. “Why in God’s name could there be a connection?”
His smile was cool and dismissive. “It’s not that hard to figure out, Mrs. Middleton. Most of the people of Silver Falls would like to think of me as a murderer. Feel free to add yourself to that list if you want to.”
She just stared at him. “That’s nothing to joke about.”
“No, it isn’t. If I were a sensitive soul I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but I think you’d better learn the lay of the land. If there’s a murder, I’m your man.” He shrugged. “Go home, Mrs. Middleton. I’ve already told you enough.” He took the whiskey glass out of her hand, poured it down the sink.
“Good idea,” she said. “I need to go find Sophie. This is going to be difficult for her.”
The kitchen door was pushed open, and David stood there, an unreadable expression on his face. “Sheriff Bannister is here, and she wants to talk to all of us.”
“Thank God,” Rachel said, brushing past the two brothers and rushing into the living room.
Maggie Bannister, a sensible woman in sensible shoes, squatted beside Stephen Henry’s wheelchair, taking notes, a patient expression on her broad, leathery face.
She looked up when Rachel rushed into the room, and rose to her full five feet two inches. “Don’t worry, Rachel, Sophie’s just fine.”
“Thank God she was over at your house,” Rachel said. “Does she know?”
“I’ve told both girls. I gather you went through something like this in the past.”
There was a sick, sour feeling in the pit of her stomach, churning with the bite of the whiskey she’d downed. “Her best friend in San Francisco. I don’t want her to experience that kind of trauma again.”
“Considering her best friend is my daughter, I can promise you she won’t,” Maggie drawled. “This was a college student, name of Jessica Barrowman. Looks like she was raped and murdered and thrown over the falls sometime today, and her body was found a few hours ago. We’ll know more once the medical examiner has a look. But since our local black sheep has chosen today to return, I thought I’d ask him and his family a few questions.”
Rachel looked behind her, at Caleb Middleton’s cool, impassive face. Not the face of a murderer, surely. Not the face of a monster who could do that to someone not much more than a child.
“I don’t need you here, Rachel.” Her brisk voice was kind. “Why don’t you go on home and the boys will be along soon.”
“The boys?”
Maggie smiled briefly. “Sorry, I’m fifteen years older and I’ve known them all their lives. We’ve got the rotten kid and the good one.” Her pale gray eyes drifted impartially over David and his brother. “I just need to ask them a few questions and they’ll be done.”
“I want to see Sophie.”
Maggie shook her head. “She’s in bed already, Rachel, and she