“It’s getting there, I guess.”

She could hear the smile in his voice as his fingers combed through her hair.

“Are we still getting married?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

He sobered. “Because of everything you’ve been through. Maybe you need more time.”

“If we wait any longer, the baby will be here.”

They’d performed an ultrasound at the hospital yesterday, and her doctor had told her the baby looked fine. They wouldn’t know for sure, of course, until she was born, but their little girl seemed to have weathered the ordeal better than Evelyn had. “We could put it off for six months or another year.”

“Do you want to wait?” she asked in surprise.

“I’ve never wanted to wait,” he replied. “I’m trying to think of you.”

She lifted up on her elbows to look down into his face. “Then we’re not changing anything, because I want to marry you now more than ever.”

His lips curved into a smile as she lowered her head to kiss him, but then the phone interrupted.

So that he wouldn’t have to move any more than necessary, she got it off the nightstand and, assuming it would be Phil again, handed it to him.

“Hello?” she heard him say. “Lewis … Yeah.… What’s up?… No kidding … I believe it.… I always thought that was the case.… Good thing she finally came clean…”

He and the detective from Minnesota—Evelyn recognized the name—chatted for a few minutes more and then Amarok hung up.

“What’d Lewis have to say?” she asked.

“Terry’s wife was the one who called you, pretending to be my mother.”

“She admitted it?”

“Lewis said once she found out that Bishop had killed her brother, she broke down and told him everything. I guess she and Emmett planned to double-cross Terry.”

“In what way?”

“She planned to take his share of the money so she could leave him.”

“He might’ve had something to say about that.”

“I doubt it. Not with Emmett on her side.”

Evelyn was glad they had closure on who’d called as Alistair, but she bit her lip as she replayed in her mind a different part of what Amarok had just said: Once she found out that Bishop had killed her brother, she broke down and told him everything.

“What is it?” Amarok asked, noticing her sudden reticence.

She sat up, pulling the sheet with her. “I have something to tell you.”

His face registered concern. “There’s something else?”

She tucked her hair behind her ears as she nodded.

Wincing, he managed to sit up, too. “What is it?”

“Bishop didn’t kill Emmett.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

She drew a deep breath. “Because I did.”

His eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

“How?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too upsetting. But … do you think I should let the police know? Does it matter if I killed Emmett or Bishop did?”

He studied her for several seconds. Then he reached up to caress her cheek. “No.”