face.” Maggie began to slice the apple as if hoping to see blood spill from its core.
“That.” A relief to be so quickly understood. “Just exactly that. In all of our faces, not just mine. I’ll probably have to change my phone number again because somebody always manages to dig it out, and the calls start. The stories will run, and I know they’ll run their course, but for a while, it’s front and center all over again.”
She drew breath in, let it out. “I know how privileged I am because a song-and-dance man—boy, really—who could act got on a boat in Cobh and made his way to Hollywood. He met a woman—a girl—who was his match in every single way. Together they created a dynasty. Not just of fame and fortune.”
“Of family, and ethics, and good work, good works,” Julia said. “We’ve met a lot of your family.”
“You had them over for a barbecue. I’m sorry I missed it.”
“There’ll be others. You’re young, beautiful, white, wealthy, and talented, so yes, privileged. Being privileged doesn’t negate trauma. Your mother doesn’t see past the fame and fortune. Even though she has her own—”
“Infamous isn’t the same as famous,” Maggie pointed out as she sliced a cube of cheddar.
“True enough. She still wants a piece of yours, your father’s, your family’s. She still covets what you have, what you are. I’d like to kick her ass.”
“That’s nice of you,” Cate said as Maggie cackled.
“Nothing nice about it. That’s been top of my wish list since we found out she was part of what happened to you.”
Fascinated, Cate studied the face she knew so well. “You always seem so calm, so level.”
At that Maggie threw back her head, literally hooted before she set the plate of apple and cheese slices on the table. “Go after one of her chicks, my girl will kick a dozen asses, and won’t bother to take names.”
“Names wouldn’t matter. She’s not going to stop, Cate. I honestly believe she’s not capable of genuine emotions, but only greed and envy. You have to face that. And still, the bottom line is she’ll never have it. She’ll never have any piece of you or your family.”
“In fewer words, fuck her.”
Julia shifted her gaze to her mother. “Well, those are fewer words.”
“Why not be succinct?” And she touched Cate’s heart when she skimmed a hand down her hair just as she had to Julia before she sat. “Now, put the cheddar on the apple, and eat something happy.”
Doing what she was told, Cate ate the happy.
It didn’t take long for a few enterprising reporters to dig their way to her phone number, her email. She blocked and ignored.
But the call she’d dreaded most came through.
Voice over voice—her mother’s, her own singing a happy song from her first movie role, the horror movie laugh, whispers. Digitized, she knew, jerky. Layered together, inexpertly but effectively, into a clear message.
“You didn’t do what you were told. Now people are dead.”
“Blood is on your hands. More will die. Your fault. It’s always been your fault.”
She made a copy for herself before handing her phone over to Michaela. She’d buy a new one, again. Change her number, again.
It would be, she knew, the same as always. Bits and pieces from recorded interviews pieced together, layered together into a new recording, and sent from a prepaid cell.
“That’s the best they can do?” Dillon demanded.
Cate bent down to pet the dogs who now had beds and toys at the cottage. “It’s the reality of it. It’s a crappy voice-over hack. Record a recording, pull out specific words or phrases, layer, merge, send. I could do a better job in my sleep, so it’s an amateur. The recordings are always full of noise—static, vibrations, the echo of the room,” she explained.
“I don’t much give a damn about the quality.”
“It probably lets my mother off the hook. She’d be able to pay for better. And as for Sparks, where’s he going to get the equipment in prison?”
“These calls are threats, Cate. You need to take them seriously.”
“It’s a scare tactic, Dillon, and it’s lost its ability to scare me. I’m taking Gram’s advice on my mother, applying it here.”
“Which is?”
“Fuck them.”
It felt damn good to say it, to mean it.
“I’ve got a big, strong rancher and a couple of fierce guard dogs looking out for me. Lily’s coming home tomorrow. I’m not letting anything spoil that.”
“You didn’t tell Hugh about this latest call.”
“I will, just not right this minute.” She