at the island with her phone to her ear. Her vehicle hadn’t been in the driveway, which had made me think she was still at the bar with Dad. She usually worked there on the weekends because Saturday nights were so crazy when college was in session.
She wasn’t dressed as if she’d just come from the bar, though. Nor was she in her pajamas, which was what she normally would have been wearing this late at night if she weren’t working.
Mom was wearing a dress that looked like it had been sprayed on her amazing body. It had never been a secret that Kelli Hannigan had once been a stripper at Paradise City before she married my father. She wasn’t ashamed of her former profession. She had the kind of body women her age paid good money to achieve. Other than my blond hair and green eyes that I got from Dad, I looked just like her, so I knew I’d have a body like hers one day if I played my cards right.
“What are you doing home?” I demanded, raking my eyes over her dispassionately. Her hair was styled, and I hadn’t seen her wear that much makeup since Mila and Monroe’s double wedding back in September. The shoes she was wearing were so high, I knew if I attempted to wear them, I would end up with something broken.
She ended her call without saying goodbye, her eyes narrowing on me as she put her free hand on her hip. “It’s after one, River. You should have been home over an hour ago.”
“Shouldn’t you be at Hannigans’ helping Dad?” I sneered, walking farther into the kitchen.
“I had something to take care of,” she said with a shrug. Nothing in her face made me think she felt even a little guilty for where she’d been or what she’d been doing dressed the way she was, and that just pissed me off.
“What?” I snipped.
“That’s none of your business, little girl,” she snapped back. “And just where were you?” Before I could speak, she lifted her hand. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to have to lie to your father about knowing where you were.”
I rolled my eyes. “As opposed to lying to him about where you were?”
“Your father knew where I was,” she told me with a lift of her chin, her eyes daring me to argue with her.
Which I did. “Did he? Yet you lied to him about being with Aunt Quinn two days ago.”
Surprise filled her face before she could mask it. “How do you know that?”
I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. “I was at her house helping Kingston with something. She was home all evening, but I never once saw you, Mother Dear.”
When I turned back around to face her, I expected to find her pissed at me. Instead, I found her looking drawn and maybe a little defeated. “If I tell you where I really was, then and tonight, will you promise not to tell your dad about this?”
I slowly took a drink of my water, giving myself time to think about her question. Did I want to know her secret—and add to the one I was already keeping from people I loved?
“Tell me first,” I negotiated. “Then I’ll decide if it’s worth keeping it from Dad.”
She pushed her hair back from her face with a heavy sigh. “I’ve been driving to the surrounding towns, trying to find someone.”
Curiosity had me taking a step closer to her. “Who?”
“My niece,” she whispered, a quaver in her voice. She cleared her throat, and it was stronger when she spoke again. “You know my father wasn’t a good man.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. A simple internet search could tell anyone who was looking exactly what kind of person my senator grandfather had been. Corrupt didn’t even begin to describe the politician. He not only shot Mom, nearly killing her, but he was also responsible for my grandmother’s death as well.
“My mother was his mistress,” Mom said, her lips pressing into a hard line. This was the first time she’d ever really spoken about her family, so I was listening intently. “I knew there were others, but my mom…she didn’t want to believe that. Even though the man was married, she thought she was the only one warming his bed.”
“Gross,” I muttered.
“A few weeks ago, a social worker contacted me, started asking questions about my father and so on.” She squeezed the