Rose’s phone chirped with an incoming text. She picked up the card, cleaning it as she walked. When she found her phone, there was a message from her nephew.

We need to talk. Please let me know when you’re up and ready to receive visitors.

Receive visitors. She smiled. That made her sound like a character in one of Liv’s Victorian novels. Great-aunt Rose receiving visitors over tea in her parlor. Not exactly the image she liked to project, even if the component parts were accurate.

She tapped back, I’m up. Come anytime, and then she went to start the kettle for tea.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was barely five-thirty, and Rose was already dressed, with tea and fresh biscuits and jam waiting. I was going to say, “You’re up early.” Then I saw the hollow circles under her eyes.

We settled in at the desk in the parlor. As I spread homemade raspberry jam on a warm biscuit, Gabriel said, “We wouldn’t have come so early if it wasn’t a matter of some urgency. Seanna disappeared from the hotel where Patrick put her, having faked her death again. There was a great deal of blood, but Lloergan”—he glanced at the hound, eating meat from a china plate on the Oriental carpet—“confirmed that a trail outside the window was indeed hers, meaning she was not seriously injured.”

Before Rose could respond, Gabriel continued, “Olivia’s car was spotted shortly before the incident. Pending analysis of the crime scene, the police insist on treating this as a possible homicide, which means if they manage to obtain identifying details on the vehicle, they’ll know it’s Olivia’s. That will make you a suspect.”

“I—”

“I’m not seriously concerned that you’d be arrested, and even if you were, there’s no body, but I still need to obtain the details of your visit.”

Rose said, “May I speak?”

“Yes.”

“Seanna called my business number and demanded to see me. I went to the hotel. I can confirm it seems to be her.”

“It is,” I said. “Patrick knew she was alive. He’s been paying her to stay away for years.”

“And he never imagined she’d come home once she realized how much her son is worth?” Rose shook her head. “I’m sure Patrick thought she’d take the guaranteed payout rather than risk un-faking her death, but Seanna only sees dollar signs.”

“And she presumes whatever trouble she gets into, she can get out of.”

Rose refreshed my tea, her gaze on the cup. “Yes, I’m afraid early experience taught her that. Police bought her tears and fell for her sob stories. Family bought her lies and gave in to her tantrums. Plenty of blame to go around.”

“No,” Gabriel said quietly. “The only blame falls on her own shoulders. Mistakes may have been made, but help was offered. Endlessly offered.”