with before he left Dallas. Once the web of lies had started to unravel, it was as if a staggering weight had lifted from her heart.
Her conscience was clear. But for the first time in her life, she was actually afraid of her brother.
Even though Quinton was six years younger than she was, he’d been the one to run interference for her when she was a young, skinny teenager.
Her little brother had thrown himself between her and her drunken father when he’d come at her with his belt for not having the house clean enough or not having his clothes washed or his dinner on the table. More than once, he’d ended up taking the beating that had been meant for her.
But by the time he was sixteen, Quinton didn’t take a beating from anyone. And nobody crossed him without paying for it.
Matilda had crossed him today.
Alana strolled into the kitchen and pulled the earphones from her ears. “Sam said you wanted to talk to both of us. What’s that about?”
“Go get your brother and I’ll tell you over cookies and milk.”
“Cookies and milk? We’re not six, you know?”
“Too bad. You weren’t nearly so sassy then. Go get Sam.”
Alana tangled the ends of her long brown hair with her fingers. “It’s about the kidnapping, isn’t it?”
“Just go get your brother.”
“First, tell me they’re not dead. Tell me that creepy jerk that stole them didn’t kill them.”
“They haven’t been found and there’s no evidence they’ve been killed. Now go and get you brother and I’ll tell both what’s going on with the investigation.”
Alana returned a few minutes later with Sam. He grabbed a warm cookie and stuffed most of it in his mouth.
“Any luck with the job interview?” she asked, as she poured three glasses of milk.
“I didn’t go.”
“Why not? I thought you were supposed to talk to the manager right after your class.”
“Because I’m not gonna spend my life stocking groceries.” He finished that cookie and grabbed another.
“A part-time summer job is not exactly your whole life.”
“It’s not like I’m hanging around here all day doing nothing. I made forty dollars last week putting up new drapes for your boss. Man, those things were ugly. And summer school wastes half my day.”
As if having to attend summer school wasn’t his fault for skipping the class so many times that he had to repeat it before they awarded him his high school diploma.
Sam straddled a chair and grabbed another cookie. “So what’s up?”
“It’s about the kidnapping,” Alana said.
Sam groaned. “Not that again. What’s the big deal? Janice O’Sullivan is filthy rich. She’ll pay the ransom for her granddaughters and never even miss the money.”
“It’s not about the money,” Alana argued.
He grabbed another cookie. “It’s always about the money.”
“That’s enough,” Matilda said. “Will you both please just let me say what I need to say—without interruption?”
They both stared at her as if she’d spouted a giant wart in the middle of her forehead. They weren’t used to seeing her rattled and irritable. She counted to ten silently, determined to at least sound in control.
“There’s been a development in the case that I think you should both be aware of,” she said. “I hate having to tell you this, but...”
Adam slammed his half-empty glass to the table. “Don’t tell me the cops think you had anything to do with it.”
“No, but they do have a suspect.”
Alana clapped her hands twice. “Thank goodness. I bet it’s that Adam guy they talked about on the news. He didn’t want to have to put up with another man’s kids so he just got rid of them. My friend Karen thinks the same thing.”
“Don’t rush to judgment. The truth is...”
The doorbell rang.
Sam jumped up to get it.
“Let me,” Matilda said. “Both of you stay put. It’s probably Leone from next door. I’ll get rid of her.”
Lost in her thoughts, Matilda foolishly opened the door without looking through the peephole first.
“Hello, sis. Why is it you don’t look glad to see me?”
Panic choked her. She gulped in a breath of air. “You shouldn’t be here, Quinton.”
“Why not? You’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m back in town.” He sniffed. “Is that fresh-baked cookies I smell? If it is, I know a couple of little girls who’d love a taste of those.”
Chapter Nine
“Uncle Quinton?”
“In the flesh.”
Alana squealed and came running toward him, hurling herself into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Seeing is believing.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Just a bad rumor.” He whirled Alana around a few