Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco #2) - Debra Webb Page 0,24
as long as it has no bearing on what happened. I have—we both have an obligation to share anything that relates to what happened to Brendal.”
Tori fingered the edge of her laptop. “Alice said she was born to rule, but that something happened and changed everything. That’s why she was sent here. Away from her home until the trouble is over. The story about her parents being dead is like a cover story. Her parents are dead, but they died a long time ago. She was sent here for protection from whatever is happening back in Mexico.”
Kerri nodded. “Anything is possible. Sometimes, though, people make up alternative stories when the real one is too painful.”
“I think maybe that’s what she’s doing.” Tori’s gaze met her mother’s. “I didn’t really believe her story about being a princess.”
Kerri waited for Tori to go on, but she looked away instead. “You and Sarah have spent the night with her a few times.” Now that Kerri thought about it, a couple of months had passed since the last time. Alice had never come to their house for a sleepover. Kerri had no idea if she’d gone to Sarah’s.
“Her house is kind of creepy.” Tori chewed her lower lip a second before going on. “I don’t like going there. I think Sarah has gone a couple times when I didn’t.”
“It’s a nice neighborhood.” Kerri made it a point to familiarize herself with the homes and neighborhoods of her daughter’s friends if going to the home came up.
“It’s not that. The house is pretty and all, but it’s creepy inside.”
“Creepy how?” This was news.
“There’s all this religious stuff. Her aunt and uncle are deep into it.”
“That made you uncomfortable?” This was the South. Most folks went to church. Tori had gone to church with Sarah several times. Diana had crosses and at least one picture depicting Jesus in her house.
Tori nodded. “It’s just different. Can we please not talk about this anymore?”
“Okay. For now. But I need you to think over those moments before Brendal fell and tell me anything at all you remember that’s different from what you’ve told me so far. Detectives Sykes and Peterson will be talking to you again. Count on it.”
Shrug number three. “’kay.”
“I’ll go work on dinner.” Kerri stood. “Feel free to come and help.”
Kerri left the door open to emphasize her invitation as she headed downstairs. She had always trusted her daughter. Tori wasn’t one to keep things from her. Only that once when she’d kept quiet about the man harassing Amelia. Kerri couldn’t believe she would hold back anything important ever again. Not after losing Amelia. The loss was still fresh in all their hearts.
But she wasn’t foolish enough to believe her daughter might never make the same mistake again.
In the kitchen, she browsed the pantry offerings for inspiration. She really, really needed to do some shopping. Maybe she would try one of the online delivery services that were so popular now. Or maybe the pickup option. Diana raved about both. Kerri’s cell vibrated. She dragged it from her pocket. Falco.
Her thoughts instantly shifted to their case. “Hey. Any revelations from Cross?”
Kerri supposed it was possible Walsh had zeroed in on Cross, since she’d worked all those years undercover going after the big drug runners. Whatever the case, she was holding back just how well acquainted she was with the DDA.
“I haven’t been able to track her down,” Falco said, frustration simmering in his voice. “She’s not home and not answering her cell. Maybe she’s tied up. She doesn’t usually ignore my calls. I’ll keep trying.”
Kerri’s first instinct was to assume the woman was avoiding them, but she pushed the conclusion aside. Reminded herself that she owed Cross the benefit of the doubt. “You think she has reason to not want to talk to us?”
A couple of seconds of weighty silence passed between them.
“Yeah. I do. Knowing Cross, she’s conducting her own investigation into Walsh’s death, and she doesn’t want us involved.”
“She was a cop for too many years not to understand how unproductive that would be.” Kerri was all too aware of how truly ineffectual and dangerous choosing that route could be.
“Maybe there was something between her and Walsh. Maybe it’s personal.”
“Walsh was what? Five or six years younger than her?” When they’d first met, Kerri had believed Cross to be older than her. Not that thirtysomething was so old, but Cross looked closer to forty. Her career—and the drinking and smoking—had taken a toll on her.