rivalry between Louisa and Natasha, but having met Louisa, Maya didn't think that was true.
Had Wallace been in attendance, not realizing that his marriage to Natasha had all been part of the game? That she'd married him to spy on him, to get access to his media connections?
What about Bragin? Had he suspected that whatever relationship he'd had with Natasha had only been for nefarious reasons?
And then there was the lone FBI agent who knew Natasha was playing both sides. Had Carl Wilson been studying the crowd for clues as to who had killed Natasha? Had he realized then his own life might be in danger?
The images were so real in her head, she could almost feel the presence of each of those people, and they were all watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. This would be a big scene in her movie, she thought. And by the time it was finished, hopefully she would know even more of the details.
Until then…
She got down on her knees and placed the flowers on the ground. Then she put her hand on the gravestone. She knew its warmth came from the sun, but it also gave her the surreal feeling that Natasha was welcoming her.
"It's done, Natasha," she murmured aloud. "The truth of your death will be known. You didn't commit suicide. You didn't abandon your son in the harshest possible way. Your life was taken from you. You knew it might happen. You were playing dangerous games. In the end, you left the dark side and came to the light. It must have been terrifying, but you were brave. Far braver than I've ever been."
She paused, then continued, "Maybe that's not true anymore, because searching for your killer has made me find a courage within myself that I didn't know I had." She smiled to herself. "Everyone thinks I look like you. They see you in my eyes. Some see you in my stubborn determination in the face of all odds. I'd like to think I got that from you. I'd like to think that you would have enjoyed being my grandmother."
"But that could just be a fantasy," she added. "I know you didn't like being a mom. You should have done better by your son. But you loved him, and he knows that now. So does Phillip. I think they were the true loves of your life, especially your son."
She thought about what else she wanted to say. "I can't begin to know where you really came from, how the loss you suffered in your early life affected you, how deep the hole inside your heart was, but I'm going to try to tell your story in a way that people will see that there were many sides to you—some good, some bad, some indifferent. But you were human, and you were complicated, and while some may still judge you harshly, at least they'll be judging the real person, and not the movie star."
Clearing her throat, she added, "Just so you know, I found your killer. Edward Coleman will go to jail for your murder and for Julia's murder. He's finally going to pay for what he did."
"No, he's not."
She whirled around at the sound of another voice. Sylvia!
She jumped to her feet as Sylvia pointed a small black revolver at her. "What are you doing here?" she asked as fear and truth slammed into her.
"That was a great speech, Maya, but you're wrong. My father didn't kill Natasha. He didn't kill Julia, either. His worst crime was to believe the lying bitch you call your grandmother." The bitter fury in Sylvia's words rocked Maya back on her heels.
"Why don't you put the gun down?" she suggested.
"I don't think so. Haven't you figured it out yet, Maya? You're a smart girl. You took down the entire club, didn't you? You and your questions. I told the men that you were dangerous. But they didn't believe me, because they never believe a woman can take a man down. Their arrogance is unbelievable. I watched Natasha betray my father and Constantine. She played them for fools. They thought they were running her, but she was running them. I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen. They said she was a dumb bitch and she'd keep doing what she was told."
Her nerves tightened with every sneering word that fell from Sylvia's lips. She looked around, suddenly aware that they were isolated in this grove of trees, separated