I knew my sister had issues with me, but would she really want to kill me? “Brit was surprised to see me the morning after the New Year’s party.”

“Really?” he asked. “She didn’t know you were out?”

“She said she’d been sick and lost track of time. She asked about Clare. When I told her I didn’t know, she got really worried. But she always worried.”

“After you passed out, Jack could’ve left and gone to the party, correct?”

“He said he stayed at the house and did business.”

Richards didn’t need the blanks filled in. “But he could also have left you.”

“I wouldn’t have known one way or the other.”

Richards gripped the wheel. “Nice guy.”

“I know it sounds harsh. But I was a willing participant. And when I spoke to him yesterday, he said he’d given me new, untested pills that were stronger than he thought.”

“He gave a sixteen-year-old illegal drugs,” Richards pointed out. “And he’d noticed you before. Whose idea was it for you to come by his place?”

“His. He said it would be more private.”

Richards shook his head. “You were set up, Marisa.”

I’d never felt manipulated. I’d blamed the entire night on my string of bad choices. The idea that Jack had set me up was unsettling enough to pivot the conversation in a new direction. “What about greed?”

“The money Clare was carrying at the time of her death was found in your discarded jeans downriver. But Clare’s inheritance from your mother was sizable and was split between you and Brit. You both were set up to inherit at age thirty.”

“Brit wouldn’t kill either of us for money. Brit was our second mother.”

Richards didn’t argue. “Your father was cut out of your mother’s will.”

“He was given use of the house until I turned eighteen; then it was sold, and the proceeds went into the trust.” Mom had often joked that Dad married her for her money. I shifted. “I know my parents had marital problems and split up a couple of times when I was in elementary and middle school. But Dad would’ve had no reason to kill Clare over money he had no claim to.”

“Your car accident was in January. Two months before your thirtieth birthday.”

“Yes.”

“And the paramedics believed there were drugs in your system.”

My fingers curled into fists. “I didn’t take any drugs. I know for a fact.”

Richards cocked his head. “But you don’t remember, right?”

“I know I wouldn’t have fucked up. I know it.”

“Okay, then how did the drugs get in your system?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything around that time.” My unease was growing. “The only person who would’ve inherited my share was Brit.”

“And if she died, who got what was left?”

“The church.”