“Heroin mixed with fentanyl. When he was in rehab, I learned that it was fairly common for people to use both, but fentanyl is so much more potent and deadly. And it’s legal if you have a prescription, which is absolutely mind-blowing.”

“This seems like a hell of a coincidence.” Commodore’s deep voice comes from behind us as his power chair rolls into the room.

I turn to face the old man. His dark gaze is as hard as granite, and his expression says I’m the enemy again. Fear that Ricky could take this from me too, just because he couldn’t control himself around drugs, rips through my system. I stiffen and stare down the Riscoff patriarch.

“I didn’t kill my husband, if that’s what you’re asking. I wasn’t there. I never saw the drugs, never touched them. There was literally no way in hell for me to make that happen. I didn’t have anything to do with Sylvia’s death either. I swear to God.”

He leans back in his chair, his good arm crossed over his sling as he studies me. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I’m equally afraid he will and won’t find it.

Lincoln turns to face his grandfather. “What the hell are you getting at?”

“I might be an old man, but even I can see that two overdoses with the same drug, this close together and with people who have connections in common, doesn’t seem like an accident. Sylvia was murdered, and I’m willing to put money on it that the same person might have killed them both.”

“I didn’t kill either of them.” My tone holds all the righteous determination I can muster.

“Do you have proof?”

Twenty-Five

Lincoln

My jaw clenches as my grandfather stares Whitney down. I’m proud to see her holding strong, but she shouldn’t have to be strong. Especially not here, where she should feel safe and protected. I’m not going to let anyone, including my own family, attack her ever again.

“She doesn’t need proof, Commodore. She didn’t do it, so back the fuck off.”

My grandfather drops his good arm and uses it to maneuver his chair to face me. “Are you willing to bet everything on that? On her?”

I take a step toward him. “Absolutely.”

The silence in the room is deafening as I wait for Commodore to make his pronouncement. But it doesn’t matter what he says . . . I will stand by Whitney, whether it’s in this house or as we walk away together from everything I’ve ever known.

“Good. I’m glad you have no doubts. And for the record, I wasn’t accusing her.”

“Then what the hell was that?” I ask as Commodore smiles.

“Enlightening. Now we need to figure out who the hell could have done this, or if Sylvia was much better at hiding things than any of us thought.”

“What do you mean, the lawyer said he doesn’t know if Mrs. Rango had a grandchild? Shouldn’t he have asked his client whose paternity they were trying to establish?” I pull my phone away from my ear and stare at it for a moment like I don’t understand the language the private investigator is speaking. “How could the lawyer even file the suit without knowing something like that?”