you in weeks and, when I do see you, you’re miles away. Something’s wrong. Tell me what’s up.”
Harper didn’t want to tell her the truth. She knew she’d take it badly. But she couldn’t lie to her. Bonnie knew her better than anyone. She’d see through it.
“It’s worse than you can imagine,” she said, after a long second.
“I can imagine pretty bad things,” Bonnie said.
Harper didn’t reply.
Bonnie gathered their empty plates and ferried them to the kitchen. She returned with the wine bottle. “Just tell me,” she said, when she’d sat down again.
Harper searched for the right words. “That man,” she said, slowly. “The one who called last year. He got in touch again. He told me to look up something called the Southern Mafia. He specifically told me to notice who their lawyer was seventeen years ago.” Just saying the words made her head throb with tension.
“What the hell is the Southern Mafia?” Bonnie sounded bewildered.
“An organized-crime gang based outside Atlanta.” Harper drew a breath. “And their lawyer, as it turns out, was my dad. He forgot to mention this to me for, oh … all of my life. The head of this group has killed people—lots of them. And my dad lost a big case for him. Right before my mother was murdered.”
Bonnie stared at her, her lips parted in shock.
“And you think…” Bonnie’s voice trailed off.
“I think he killed my mom,” Harper said. “I think my dad knew that from day one and didn’t say a word. And now I think that man is coming for me.”
There was a long silence as Bonnie absorbed this. Then, she leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “You have to get out of here, Harper. Tybee’s not far enough. You should leave the state.”
“I’m not running again.” Harper’s rage had returned, in spades. “I’m going to stay right here.” She stomped her foot on the wood floor. “And I’m going to kill the man who killed my mother. I’ll do it with my bare hands, if I have to.”
“You just told me this man killed many people,” Bonnie pointed out. “That he’s a professional. How would you kill him?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Harper said, stubbornly. “He killed my mother with a knife. Maybe I should kill him the same way. That would be poetic justice.”
“Yes, it would,” Bonnie agreed. “Except he’d shoot you while you were reaching for the blade and then you’d be dead. So maybe not so much justice in the end.”
Her cool disapproving tone hit Harper like cold water.
“I understand that you’re angry.” Bonnie’s voice was measured. “And I wish I thought you could kill him. If you’re right about him, he deserves to die.” She took a breath. “But I don’t believe you can. Not if you want to survive.”
This only made Harper feel worse. Because if she couldn’t kill him, what could she do? After all these years, she finally knew who to blame, and she couldn’t do anything about it.
She was going to fail her mother.
She dropped her head into her hands, grief crashing over her like a wave pulling her under.
The sofa shifted. Bonnie moved to sit next to her. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, taking her hand.
“All my life I believed if I just knew the truth about who killed my mother, I’d feel better.” Harper lifted her head to look at her. “But I feel so much worse.”
“I know.” Bonnie smoothed her hair out of her face with cool fingers. “I get it, I really do. But I don’t want to lose you. And for the first time, I think I might.” Her eyes were bright with tears.
Harper shook her head. “You won’t lose me.”
“I will,” Bonnie said, “if you go out there swinging blind after some gangster. You can’t do it, Harper. You’re not bulletproof.”
“Then tell me what to do,” she said, her voice rising. “Because I sure as hell don’t know.”
Bonnie seemed to be expecting this reaction. Holding Harper’s gaze, she said, “You start by calling your dad.”
Her words hung in the air between them.
“I never want to talk to him again.” Harper leaned away from her. “He lied to me for years.”
“I know,” Bonnie said. “But he’s the one person who knows everything. He knows this mafia guy personally. He knows his weaknesses. He can help you bring him down.”
There was logic to this but Harper still wasn’t convinced. “My father hates me. Why would he tell me what I need to know?”