prove to Aunt Lucy and Gran that my sister was still capable of violence. And I would have to do it quickly. Before someone like Missy came along.
But what if I was already too late? I asked myself as I had so often since first discovering the inhaler. What if I was many years too late?
As I walked back along the flagstone path—as Aunt Lucy continued calling my name—I prayed that Missy was my sister’s only victim. For all of our sakes. But I also made the decision that I’d been trying so hard not to make. Because it would undoubtedly tear my family—and my life—to pieces.
If I uncovered proof that my sister had hidden her first crime in the trunk of an old tree, there’d be no cover-up. Not this time. No matter what impact that had on me, my family, or the Underground. I would not allow a serial killer to continue walking free. I would not give Katie an opportunity to kill again.
Fighting back tears, I walked beneath the rose arbor. And for the first time that I could remember, I was unmoved by the enduring beauty of the Cherokee roses that had flourished for many generations at the entrance to our family home. Ignoring the abundance of waxy white flowers surrounding me, I grasped the latch on the heavy front gate.
A stray rose tendril snagged my bare arm.
Thorns embedded themselves deep in my flesh.
Unthinking, unfeeling, I wrenched myself free.
Chapter 13
Later that night, I phoned my sister.
I waited late enough that I knew she’d be home, then dialed the number of the little coach house where she lived.
“How can I trust you after what you did tonight?” I said as soon as she answered.
Her voice was sweet and whispery, her response pure innocence. But she knew exactly what I was angry about.
“What did I do?” she asked, and then proceeded to answer her own question. “I welcomed a poor, scared woman to the Cherokee Rose. I took care of her. And she liked me, Brooke. Just as I knew she would. So why should you be upset? Gran and Aunt Lucy weren’t.”
Though I knew it wasn’t necessary, I explained myself.
“At lunch, you told us that the hotel’s guests didn’t really interest you. All you wanted to do, you said, was to visit the dining room in your capacity as chef. Introduce yourself. Ask folks how they liked their food. Gran, Aunt Lucy and I agreed to that. You agreed to that.”
I paused, giving her an opportunity to apologize for that evening’s deliberate interaction with Jackie and the Underground. I wanted her to tell me that she’d made a mistake. That it wouldn’t be repeated.
But the moment was filled with the silence I’d expected. Her lack of remorse strengthened my determination to follow through on the strategy I’d come up with during the long drive home. Even if Katie had nothing to do with the remains I’d found near Camp Cadiz, I had to expose the rage she kept so well hidden from Gran and Aunt Lucy. Before someone got hurt. I intended to make my sister angry. Irrationally angry. With the one person who could control her.
Me.
“You lied to us,” I said.
My tone made it an accusation, which she dismissed.
“That was your fault,” she said. “I was trying to make you happy. To do what you wanted. And I really thought that I could be patient for a while longer.”
My sister’s voice grew bitter.
“But you left me behind again. Like always. While you went with Gran and Aunt Lucy. On Underground business. No one had to tell me—I knew it was an extraction. So it’s like I told you, Brooke, before lunch. I’m part of this family and I will be part of the Underground. You saw how happy I made Gran and Aunt Lucy tonight. You may not like it, but it’s pretty clear that you can’t stop me.”
“Oh yes, I can,” I said. “Because—”
Then it was my turn to lie. To myself, because I still believed that I could expose my sister’s anger and not become its victim. And to Katie who, earlier that day, had unwittingly given me the means to provoke her.
“—because I know your secret.”
She didn’t call my bluff. Didn’t demand that I tell her what, exactly, I knew. Or how, exactly, I’d found out. She didn’t laugh at me or challenge me or deny having a secret.