“Ludicrous, I know. But I’ll show you.” She looked around and realized that wasn’t possible. “I don’t have the documents here. I had to hide them.”

The now-familiar look of concern spread over his face. “You have been under incredible stress. Baines’s suicide. Walking in on it. The fighting with Kennedy . . . and me. The break-in, and now you watched a man get hit by a car. It’s too much.”

“You think I’m paranoid.”

“No, Gab. I think you’re burying your grief and sadness by running around after . . . I don’t know what. Conspiracy theories? That’s not like you, but I get it. Everything feels out of control right now.”

She let her head fall to his shoulder again. Moved in closer, cuddled against him, promising that she would pull back in a few seconds. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“Believe me when I tell you I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered into her ear.

“You hate me.”

“Never.”

“I can’t believe this.” Kennedy’s shout bounced off the kitchen walls. “You’re disgusting.”

Before Gabby could defend herself or explain that this only amounted to friendly comfort and nothing more, Liam jumped in. “Your mother—”

“Can’t control herself.”

Exhaustion gone, Gabby pushed away from Liam. “Kennedy, stop. Not today.”

“You’re all over each other.”

The disappointment in her daughter’s voice nearly knocked her down. “No, that’s not what’s happening.”

“I can’t stay here.” Kennedy ran out of the room and up the stairs.

Gabby agreed. She needed Kennedy somewhere out of the fray, not in the group’s direct line of fire. But they’d gotten that note to her. Gabby tried to reason it out and come up with the right answer . . . even if it meant risking Kennedy’s hatred.

Chapter Forty-Five
Jessa

Jessa made it back to the office, but she didn’t know how. She’d been told to take a few days off as the Darren fallout cleared up, but today she needed to come in and sign a report the judge had requested from her. The question of her being removed had been settled with Ellie’s admission that the allegations had been a lie. Now every issue had to be included in the record.

Jessa couldn’t concentrate. She sat in her oversized leather desk chair and rocked. A slight movement that calmed the voices screaming in her head.

Rob Greene, gone. He poked around. He compiled information. He convinced Gabby, or, at least, made her believe he wasn’t the conspiracy whacko the press made him out to be.

Now he was dead. Splattered in the street. Run down in what some called an accident. But Retta’s warning kept repeating in Jessa’s head. I doubt he’ll be a problem much longer.