For The Love of Easton (For the Love Of #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,95
you.” English tried to ease his concerns.
“I hope you don’t blame me. And I miss that daughter of yours. Give her a big hug from me.”
Stanton was waiting for us in Dad’s old office. He looked better than ever, but still had the crutch and boot.
“How’s the leg?” I asked.
“Better and better. I hope to get rid of this soon.” He tapped his boot with the crutch.
“It’s great you’re maneuvering the stairs now. Are you going to go back to work, as in the office?”
“Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’ll wait and see.”
I was very happy to hear it. “So don’t keep us in suspense. Fill us in on what’s going on.”
After everyone was seated, he pulled out a manila envelope and handed it to me. “Everything is in there, but the bottom line is the power steering was tampered with. That’s most likely why I lost control. Whoever did this knew I drove fast and would possibly have an accident.”
I flipped through the multitude of pages, scanning them until I got to the summary statement, verifying what Stanton said. Two things stood out. If he had been driving the speed limit or slower, he might have maintained control of the car. Might have, not would have. One of his tires had also blown. The investigators concluded they could not tell if the accident had caused it or it tampering had.
“There is someone rotten in our woodpile and I know who it is.” All eyes turned to me for answers.
Chapter Fifty
English
Tristian had just pointed a finger at one of his own family. That was a huge accusation.
“Tris, you think it was Sherman?” Stanton asked in disbelief.
“Nope, not him. Closer to home than that.”
“No way, man. Wait a second. I know Mother is a bit frozen and never one to share her affections for us, but she loved Dad at some point.”
“Stanton, I’m not talking about Mother.”
“Then… Ravina? You think she did it?”
“I know she did.” Tristian glanced at me first before he went on. “After English’s accident, she said she remembered a silver Mercedes running her off the road. Who drives a car like that?”
“Ravina! But what if she lent it to someone?” Stanton asked.
“English, did you see anyone in the car as it went by?”
“No, I was too busy trying not to die.”
“And let’s be honest. Who would Ravina lend her car to?” Tristian asked. Personally, I doubted the woman had any friends to speak of.
“Fair point. So, what should we do now?” Landry asked.
“Confront her. See what she says and gauge her reaction,” Tristian answered.
“She had motive,” I said, adding my two cents’ worth. “We had words the last time I was here. She wasn’t too pleased with me.”
“She was pissed as hell at me,” Tristian added.
“But why me, or Dad for that matter?” Stanton asked. “He spoiled her. That piece doesn’t make sense.”
I called George and had him bring Ravina in. She wasn’t too pleased about it and did nothing to hide her annoyance. Her continually pinched mouth was accompanied by crossed arms as she stood before us, refusing to sit.
“This may take a while.”
“Very well,” she huffed. Then she stomped to the nearest chair and sat.
“Ravina, we want to talk to you about Dad and English’s accidents.”
“What about them?” There was zero hesitation in her question.
“Why did you do it?” Tristian asked.
“Do what?” She frowned.
“Tamper with both cars.”
“Tamper with… you think I tampered with the cars and caused the wrecks?”
“We do.”
Her mouth slackened for a second, right before she raised her chin and flared her nostrils. “How dare you accuse me of that! I’ll admit that English and I argued when she was here. Yes, I was hostile. But I never touched her car. And Stanton? You know damn well I adored Dad. Why on earth would I do such a thing to him?” Her lower lip quivered. If she was lying, she was a damn good actress.
“Then can you explain why English was run off the road by someone driving a silver Mercedes?”
Her penetrating gaze moved to me. I was being scrutinized and feeling like she thought I had lied.
“It’s the truth, Ravina. Someone driving a silver Mercedes ran me off the road, causing the crash, and that was after my brakes failed. The brake lines had been cut.”
“I swear to God it wasn’t me. I may not like you, but it doesn’t mean I’d try to kill you. For God’s sake, someone in this room has to believe me!”