The Third Grave (Savannah #4) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,130
a lantern set on the mantel, over a firebox large enough for a small child to stand inside. The unnatural light cast the Georgia pine walls in an unnatural glow and displayed the remains of a couch, its stuffing tumbling from ripped arms, the pillows scattered haphazardly on the dusty floorboards near the hearth. In the pool of that weird light, Ashley Jefferson squared off with Tyson Beaumont.
So he was behind it all.
Ashley’s boyfriend in high school.
Why was Nikki not surprised?
Tyson, the privileged only son of one of the most prestigious and wealthy families in the area. Tyson, born with a silver spoon delicately cemented in his mouth.
Now, they were obviously fighting and Ashley was even more disheveled than the last time Nikki had seen her on Tybee Island, her makeup nearly nonexistent, her hair mussed and falling into her eyes. While her dress was wrinkled, her eyes swollen, her face flushed, he, dressed in camo pants and a black T-shirt, looked military-sharp. He wore a belt, where a gun and what appeared to be a taser, flashlight and some kind of baton were anchored. A pair of night-vision goggles hung from a strap at his neck, and Tyson was as poised as Ashley was emotionally strung out.
Without making the slightest sound, Nikki hit the record button on her phone and gently placed it on the sill next to the open window while silently praying she would not only be able to hear their conversation but also record their every word.
“You crossed the line,” Ashley charged, obviously upset, her voice cracking, her eyes shedding tears, an accusing finger jabbing at Tyson’s chest. “Owen was off-limits,” she said, glowering. “We talked about this over and over.”
“And I made myself clear: No one is off-limits.” He eyed her harshly. “Admit it, Ash, you were always hung up on him.”
“He didn’t need to die!”
“Of course he did.”
And there it was. Nearly a confession. Nikki couldn’t believe it. Just like that.
“And you were always jealous,” Ashley accused. “Which was just . . . ridiculous. You know I was always in love with you. Owen was a friend. A gentle, sweet person. He liked poetry, for God’s sake! He didn’t deserve this.” She was advancing on Tyson, disbelief in her eyes.
“And you always had a thing for him,” Tyson charged.
“No, babe, that was the problem. I always had a thing for you. Always. And now look what a mess . . . Oh, God. Can it just stop?”
“Not yet. And Owen was a liability.”
“A liability?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, Tyson, you are so fucked up. Owen didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was a kind, gentle soul. Do you know how he beat himself up over his sisters? He blamed himself that they were gone!” She threw up her hands and turned her back on him. “And now he’s dead. You fucking murdered him.”
CHAPTER 32
Tyson’s nerves were jangled, every muscle taut. This dark, decrepit lodge with all of its bad memories had been a bad choice to meet, but Ashley had caught him off guard when she’d called him, all freaked out about that damned Duval. And now she’d decided to be a bitch, second-guessing all he’d done. For her. For them. He couldn’t believe she was fucking it up, again. He had to calm her down even as his own agitation was creeping up. “Look, babe. Chill. Okay? It had to be done,” he pointed out, trying to stay calm, trying not to think that everything he’d worked for was unraveling.
“What? You had to kill Owen? Is that what you’re saying? God, that’s nuts!”
“Don’t worry about it. I covered my tracks. The cops will think he killed himself.”
Why was she turning on him? Why now? After all this time, all they’d been through together. Didn’t she know that everything he’d done, including the murders, he’d done for her? Weren’t they in this together? Her reaction to Duval’s death was over the top. But then he shouldn’t be surprised and he felt his old jealousy rise to the surface. The fact was, he didn’t trust her. Not completely. She’d always had a weird fascination with Owen. The truth was that Tyson had only gone along with her idea of giving Owen Duval an alibi because it gave her one, too. It took the heat off her when she was in this up to her pretty neck. Sure, she hadn’t known that he’d killed the girls, but so what?