Page 53 of Bitter Truth
“And you’re paying for her legal defense.”
“I didn’t know she was the one trying to hurt youwhen I made the deal with her. And I didn’t know what else to do. I was desperate. After what happened with the sniper, I went to see her after her hearing was delayed the next morning. I told her I’d pay for her to be represented by someone other than the public defender if she told me what I needed to know to protect you.”
“And you believed her?”
“I didn’t know what to believe. Or who. All I knew was that I had to find a way to keep you safe. I was willing to try anything.”
“Is that why you went to see your dad?”
His mouth opens and shuts, his surprise that I know about the visit evident.
“Yes,” he says. “Partly. When she was first arrested, I—I didn’t know how to feel. A part of me couldn’t help but be excited to have her back after all these years.”
He sits on the ground beside me. Gives me a timid look as he scoots closer to me, squeezing my hand.
“I was so young when she left. The mom I remembered was fun and loving and kind. Not the type of person who would murder her closest friends. But what she did to your parents, it made me realize that maybe I didn’t really know her at all. That I needed to speak with someone who did.”
“And what your dad told you?”
“Made me realize you might be in danger. So I started visiting her to see what I could find out.”
“And?”
“She acted like nothing was wrong. Like we were just catching up under normal circumstances, like she wasn’t facing murder charges. She even asked about you when I visited. She seemed to genuinely care, and I thought—”
His head drops. A shudder rolls through him. Whenhe continues, his voice is choked, thick with regret.
“I fell for it. She had me convinced that my dad must have lied. That she had spoken the way she had about what happened on the recording because she was scared and she thought taking some of the credit for the murders would get her respect from the people she feared.”
I bite my tongue to keep from pointing out all the evidence there was to prove otherwise. Jake isn’t like me. Not just because of my career and experience with killers, either. He doesn’t assume the worst about everyone. Of course he’d want to believe the best about his mom. I shouldn’t fault him for that.
“It turns out she was just playing me the whole time.”
“How did you figure it out?” I ask.
He looks like he’s going to be ill as he admits, “I almost didn’t. It was the private investigator I’d hired who found out that someone was trying to sell you to Bianchi. I was already in negotiations to get you back when the gag order was lifted and I found out that he was dead. But I had competition. There was someone else trying to buy you. That’s when I knew it had to be her.”
“But you can’t be sure. It still could have been one of Bianchi’s guys, or one of the two men who were arrested for kidnapping you. If no one knew what happened to him—”
Jake shakes his head sadly. “You don’t know how badly I wish that were true. But it was her, Cassie. I have proof.”
“I’m sorry, Jake.”
A small spark catches inside me, quickly turning into a flame. And Jake’s devastated expression? That mix of shame and regret and grief that I’ve worn so many times myself? It causes that flame to flare into an inferno.
“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters. You know that, right?” He cups a hand to my cheek. I cover it with my own. “I’m not sure how she’s pulling this off yet. Until I do, we can’t risk going back to the sanctuary.”
“Then let’s go find out.”
“I’m not so sure that—”
I point toward the white sedan. “You have a plan, right?”
“A vague one. But you’re in no condition to—”
“I’m fine,” I insist. “I just need to drink more water. And eat some food.”
“There should be some in the car.”
