was wan as she lowered her sunglasses. Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot.
Bethany made her way to Leonard’s home office. It had once been a small home library, but he had remodeled it according to his own tastes. Which was to say the place was ugly as sin, draped in all manners of patterns and motifs, none of which matched. It was insanity.
Leonard was sitting behind his large desk, and he barely lifted his head when she walked through the door.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
She squared off her shoulders and plastered a warm smile onto her face. “Hey, Leonard. It’s our usual visit. I texted you about it yesterday. I can come back if you’re too busy to chat.”
“Why you want to pretend that we have anything in common anymore is beyond me. When Lilly died, so should have our association.”
“Well, that wouldn’t do since we’re both named in my mother’s trust.” Bethany had to force herself not to narrow her eyes at him in suspicion.
Lilly’s fortunes had been mostly left to Bethany, but it was tied up in the couple’s joint accounts. Bethany had a feeling that it had been her mom’s way of making sure Bethany and Leonard remain in contact. She had always been trying so hard to make the two of them get along. Losing her father had been hard on Bethany, and Lilly had hoped that Leonard could be a positive male influence.
Too bad he was an absolutely horrendous toad.
How he had gotten Lilly to fall in love with him, Bethany would never know.
“All right then, tell me everything that is happening in your little life, and I will play the interested parent.”
Bethany held her breath. His words stung, but Leonard was right. She needed to feel connected to her mom just then. This house and this vile man were the only thing she had left of her. With a reluctant sigh, Bethany imagined that she was talking to Lilly and her father.
“I had a meeting with Johanna earlier this week. She hired my PR company to do some work for her youngest son, London. I’m planning a benefit for him at the Warwick Natural History Museum. I’ve been given to green light to start a scholarship program.” She went on, explaining with pride how she was going to make a difference.
Leonard pretended to listen, but he shook his head. “I’ve never liked the Warwicks much. Bunch of overly rich pretentious wankers.”
“Johanna is so kind. And she was a good friend to Mom.”
He made a noncommittal sound.
“And I guess, as much as I hate London Warwick, I have to say I’m curious to see if he’s going to figure out who killed mom.”
Leonard pitched forward in his seat, leaning over the thick wood to peer into her eyes. “What did you say?”
Bethany frowned, confused by the coldness in Leonard’s eyes and the acidic tone of his voice. “I said that London is having Mom’s murder looked into.”
“Why?” he spat. “That business is done. She’s dead and buried, and that’s all that matters.”
Bethany jumped to her feet. “It isn’t!” Her words were shaking with shock and indignation. “How can you even say that? Her murderer is still out there, living as free as a bird. Don’t you care at all? Don’t you want justice to be served?”
“Justice won’t bring her back.”
Leonard reaching into the top drawer of his desk and took out a cigarette, which he lit with a gold-plated lighter. He only smoked when he was nervous, and Bethany didn’t like the implication that her stepfather was nervous because someone was looking into her mother’s murder.
“You need to tell that pretentious sod to stop whatever he is doing. I won’t have the past drudged up. I won’t have another media circus, flinging accusations and speculation my way. Do you have any idea how much money I lost, how many deals that didn’t go through because of all that talk?”
“Yes, I am aware. If you’ll recall, I was the first suspect, wasn’t I? My business still suffers from it, and I still have to defend myself against mean jabs about it sometimes. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want the truth.”
She rolled her shoulders back, feeling sickened by Leonard’s lack of concern for justice, but resolute in need to convince him that this was for the best.
“You know how fragile Lucille is. Why do you insist on upsetting her? This will only make life ugly again. Aren’t you sick of being an orphan? Why