Summer's End (Wildflowers #5) - Jill Sanders Page 0,33

again.

When she opened the door, he frowned down at her red eyes and the fact that she was still wearing shorts and a tank top over the swimsuit she’d been wearing hours before at the pool.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, rushing to her side.

“I think my father had my mother killed,” she said and threw herself into his arms.

“What?” He tensed but held onto her.

She leaned back and motioned to a laptop sitting on the coffee table. “He killed her,” she said, wiping her eyes.

He dropped his hold on her and moved over to the computer. There on the screen was an old article about a woman named Nora Murphy.

“My mother,” she supplied as he sat down at the laptop. He glanced down at the grainy black-and-white photo of a woman. Instantly, he was shocked at the similarity between mother and daughter. All except the eyes. He could tell instantly that her mother had brown eyes instead of Aubrey’s haunting crystal blue ones.

He scanned the article quickly, which stated that her mother had committed suicide. It went on to claim that, because of all the drugs the police had found with her, they had assumed she was the leader of a local drug ring that had been haunting the area for over a year. They didn’t suspect foul play.

“What makes you think your father had your mother killed? The article—”

“We’d only just moved into that apartment,” she broke in. “Before that, we’d lived across the state at my grandmother’s place. After she died, we had to move. My mother didn’t know anyone in town yet. She was out looking for jobs each day, sometimes taking me along…” She shook her head. “I’d have to wait in the car, since she was trying to get jobs at bars, but… she didn’t do drugs, let alone sell them. We barely had enough money to buy lunch, let alone all that coke.” She took a deep breath. “How would she have gotten it?” She closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek.

He picked up her hand and then pulled her into his arms and held onto her.

“We’ll figure this out,” he promised her, his eyes going to the screen again. “Why don’t you head in and change while I do a little research?”

She sniffled and shook her head. “I don’t think…”

“Hey.” He pulled back and smiled down at her. “You still need to eat.”

“Right.” She sighed. “I just don’t think I’m up for much.”

“Then we won’t do much.” He smiled. “Go put on something besides your camp clothes.”

She glanced down at the T-shirt with the camp logo and her shorts. “Okay.” She stood up, her eyes returning to the screen. “I never believed my mother killed herself.” Her eyes moved to lock with his. “Never. But until now, I’ve never looked into her death. I should have,” she said softly and turned to walk down the hallway.

For the next half hour, he ignored his hunger and aches and searched the internet. He emailed himself a couple links to articles about the incident and about Harold Smith.

The man had enough resources to hire someone to take care of the woman he’d been in a nasty custody battle with for Aubrey. It did seem strange that it wasn’t until just before Nora’s death that he had gained custody of Aubrey.

Of course, the man had repeated in several interviews that he would have won custody anyway since Nora had been jobless, penniless, and a druggy. But Aiden hadn’t found any evidence of the last part. What he needed was someone who could research the woman’s criminal record. If she had one.

He shot an email off to Brett Jewel, a local officer and Aiden’s best friend since grade school, asking him if he could find anything on Aubrey’s mother. He’d just hit send when Aubrey walked out of the back room dressed in cream-colored capris and a soft blue flowing tank top.

She’d showered and had left her long red hair down, flowing around her face, which she’d left clear of product. She’d never looked as lovely as she did now.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked, standing up and walking over to her.

She nodded. “Did you find anything?”

“Come on, let’s head into town and grab some burgers. I’m starving. I’ll fill you in on the way.” He grabbed one of her rain jackets as they headed out.

By the time they parked at the burger joint, he’d told her everything, including the email he’d sent off to