Phil continues. "They engineered the situation to persuade you to come here. Graham convinced Diana that her employers had discovered the theft, which appears to be false. He simply wanted her out of the way."
"That's--that's not--"
"Ask Eric."
"I never said--" Dalton begins.
"You contacted your father and asked him to look into it. Did you really think those calls were private, Eric? Nothing you do is private. We suspected you were checking residents, and we tapped his line to confirm it."
Dalton looks ill. His gaze flicks to me and then away. "I'll explain it all to Casey. Just let--"
"That isn't our concern. Diana is here under false pretences and therefore, under the provisions of her agreement, we may evict her. We were already considering whether to do so. The fact she is suspected--strongly suspected--of both murder and arson has settled the matter. Sheriff Dalton will escort her out tomorrow morning."
We've left Val's house. I'm heading for Diana's to ... break it to her? Confront her?
I remember the night Diana was attacked, when Graham looked right into that camera and spoke to me. Made me feel helpless and impotent, unable to help her.
He played me.
No, they played me.
I'm halfway to Diana's before I realize Dalton is following. He's a half step back and hasn't said a word since we left Val's. When I turn on him, he starts, as if expecting a right hook to the jaw.
"Is it true?" I say.
"About Diana?" He hesitates. "Yeah. She--"
"I mean all of it. That you got your father to investigate, and you've known the truth for a while and never mentioned it to me."
His mouth opens and from the way he shifts forward, I think I'm about to get a long-winded excuse. But then he pulls back and says only, "Yeah."
"That's what Diana meant earlier. You'd threatened, if she ever used rydex again, you'd tell me she'd lied about the reason she's here. You were blackmailing her."
Anyone else would at least try to wriggle out of it. Dalton says, "Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because you didn't need to know that you came here to help her and it was all a lie. You'd already cooled your friendship, so I didn't see the point of hurting you, and if I was wrong, then ..." He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back, and when the next words come, they look painful. "Then I'm sorry, Casey. I'm sorry if I fucked up."
He didn't fuck up. I'd been finally crawling out of the hole I dropped into more than a decade ago. I want out of that hole, and I needed the cushion of lies for a little while longer, because this hurts. Hell and damn, this hurts.
"You suspected from the start, didn't you?" I say.
"Yeah."
"You suspected both of us of lying."
"It was too coincidental. For twelve years, no one bothers you, and then all of a sudden you're both in trouble? Yours was the story I was more concerned about, though."
"Because I'm the one you had to work with."
"I thought you and the bartender staged the attack. So the council's people investigated, and I double-checked all their work, and I had my father do the same."
"Wouldn't it make more sense to have Kurt attack me and blame the Saratori family?"
He shrugs. "Maybe he offered to take the bullet for you. Maybe you knew it'd be tougher to get in up here if you were injured. But, yeah, that was one thing that suggested it wasn't faked. Anyway, no one found any evidence you'd staged it. And the fact you tried to get Diana in without you? Made no sense if your story was false. I wasn't completely happy, but I let you in, and I saw that you honestly didn't want to be here. Didn't want to be anywhere, really, but you weren't relieved or happy or whatever I'd expect if you pulled one over on us."
"But Diana was. When did you start seriously investigating her?"
"I asked my father to look into it when I went to pick you up. By the time we went back to Dawson City, he'd found out about the missing money and the ex who just paid off some serious debts. He also got proof they'd reunited--overnight trips and stuff."
I'm going to the spa this weekend. I know you hate them, Casey, so I won't even ask.
He continues. "The Saratori thing really was a coincidence--one she took advantage of. And it did help you. I gave her that much. Bringing you along. Getting you out of danger. So I wasn't completely ready to write her off. I thought maybe there was another explanation for the money thing. And if she was back with her ex, why be screwing everything in pants here? Then I heard a rumour that she'd gotten wasted and talked about what she and Graham did, how she doesn't think he'll be waiting with the money when she gets back."
"Really? What a shock. So sleeping around was revenge." I take a deep breath. "Is this what Isabel was talking about last night? She heard the same rumour about why Diana is here?"
He nods. Then he looks to one side, and I notice Beth there. She's stopped, as if she was about to retreat.
"Sorry," she says. "I saw you two and wanted to give you the full autopsy report. But I ... I guess that can wait."
"How much did you hear?" Dalton asks, and she blanches, though there's no accusation in his voice.
"Not much, but ... I already knew. I was going to speak to you about it today, Eric."
"Fuck," he says. "Did everyone hear that damned rumour?"
"Rumour? No. Diana told me. When I got her back home after the fire, she was in shock and, possibly, in pain. I gave her something and she, well, it must have reacted with the rydex. She got confused. She thought I was Casey and confessed what she did to her."
"She confessed," I say.
She nods, but I didn't phrase it as a question. It is no longer a question.
"If you like, I can be the one to tell Diana she has to go home," Dalton says, in a tone that says he already knows my answer but he'll offer anyway.
I shake my head and continue to Diana's apartment.
Ten
I want to do this alone. Beth won't let me.
"She's unstable, Casey, and last night and the drugs have pushed her over the edge. I'd really rather not sedate her again. Eric can restrain her, if need be, while you calm her down and make it clear she has no choice."
So they come with me but stay outside the bedroom. Dalton positions himself at the door, where Diana--resting in bed--can't see him.
Diana and I talk for a few minutes. That's not me avoiding the conversation. It's me unable to roar in, guns blasting, and demand answers. That will never be me, no matter how much I'm hurting.
I have no idea what we talk about. I answer her questions on auto-reply and ask some of my own without processing her answers. Finally, when she's calm, I say, "You have to leave, Di," as gently as I can.
"Leave?" She's still foggy from the drugs and her face screws up. "You mean move? Because of Jen? She complained about my screaming?"
"No, Di. You have to leave Rockton."
"Wh-what? No." She sits abruptly. "I didn't kill Mick. I swear to God, I didn't. Just think about it, Casey? Why would I? Even if I was drunk enough to hit on him, Mick doesn't mess around on Isabel. Girls have tried. They all fail."
"They're kicking you out because you violated the terms of your agreement."
She stares at me and then says, "How? By having sex? Getting drunk? Using dex a couple times? Hell, by those standards, you and that fucked-up sheriff are the only people who still belong here."
"You came here under a pretence."
She stops. Her mouth opens. Shuts. Then, tentatively, "A what?" as if she's hoping she's wrong about the meaning of the word.
"A false reason. You and Graham staged your attack to prove your life was in danger."
"What? No. How can you even--? You honestly think--?"
She can't get the rest out, and I should seize on her horrified sputtering as proof that everyone else is wrong. But it's exactly that sputtering that tells me they aren't.
"You've seen how he treats me," she says. "To even suggest I'm lying about that ...?"
> "Oh, I know Graham treated you like shit. I also know that you can't quit him. You reunited again, and he convinced you to steal from your employer."
Her mouth works again. "S-steal?"
"We have proof."
"You mean he has proof."
I don't need to ask who he is. I shake my head. "Di, don't do this. It isn't Eric--"
"So it's him over me?" She gives a harsh laugh. "Typical. The new boyfriend doesn't like your girlfriends? Dump them. God, women can be such bitches to each other."
I struggle for calm. "First, Eric is my boss, not my boyfriend. Second, I have never, ever, ever thrown you over for a guy. Which is more than I can say--" I stop myself. Won't play the blame game. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but--"
"God, you're such a cold bitch. You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself."
Dalton strides through the doorway, but Beth barrels past him, her face taut with rage.
"Bitch? You're calling her a--"
I grasp Beth's arm. "I've got this."
"No, Casey. I'm sorry. I know you think you deserve to be treated like crap, but you don't." She turns to Diana. "It wasn't enough to lie to get yourself in here. You had to bring a friend, so you wouldn't be alone. Casey doesn't like to complain even when she has damned good reason, so I'm going to do it for her. The real issue isn't that you lied to get into Rockton. It's what you did to get her in."
"I don't know--"
"You hired some Italian thug to make Casey think the Saratoris were after her."
"Wh-what? How would I--?"
"Your ex set it up. That's what you told me when you were under the rydex and the pain meds. You confessed."
I stand there, behind Beth, my knees feeling like they're about to give way. I look at Dalton, but he's staring at Beth, as stunned as I am. Then he catches a glimpse of my expression, and he moves up behind me, his hand going against my back as if to steady me, and I need that hand, God I need it. I sway slightly, and the hand moves around my waist, holding me still.
"You're a lying bitch," Diana says to Beth.
"We have proof," Dalton says. "The council found the guy Graham hired, and he talked."
He's bluffing, but the look Diana turns on him isn't disbelief. It's hate. She glowers as if he's responsible for all this. Dalton's responsible. Beth's responsible. I'm responsible. Everyone except Diana herself is responsible.
"Well, then, I guess I'm not the only one leaving, am I?" Diana says. "We're both here under false pretences. So we're both getting kicked out."
Beth slaps her. The sound comes so suddenly, both Dalton and I jump.
"You accuse Casey of being a cold bitch?" Beth says. "You screwed up your life. Made bad choices and had to come here. Except you didn't want to come alone. So you dragged your best friend--"
"She needed this!" Diana says. "For twelve years she's barely even had a pulse." She turns to me. "It's not just guilt over Blaine and looking over your shoulder for Saratori's men. You want to believe you bounced back after what happened in that alley, but no one bounces back from something like that. You needed to get away more than I did."
"Who are you to decide that?" Beth says. "Casey was doing just fine. Homicide detective before her thirtieth birthday? That's a hell of an achievement, and she loved her job. She'd also met a man she cared about very much."
"The bartender?" Diana snorts. "The only thing she cared about was that he was good in bed and he looked good in one."
"Then why is she still wearing his necklace?"
"Can we not do this?" I say. "Please?"
"The point I'm making, Casey," Beth says, "is that you were doing fine when Diana upended your life. I know you've been making the best of it, but--" She exhales. "If there's anything good to come out of this mess, it's this: you can go home. The council will fix the issue with your job, and I'm sure your boyfriend would be happy you're back."
I stare at her. I haven't even considered the fact I can go back now, because there is nothing to consider. Beth's wrong. I wasn't on the road to happiness down south. Hell, I hadn't even found the map yet.
I'm also damned sure Dalton isn't going to let me walk out on his investigation. But he hasn't said a word.
"Casey?" he says finally.
He's waiting for an answer. Because it's up to me. Totally my call. He doesn't care one way or the other, and after the sucker punch of Beth's revelation, this feels like someone grinding his fist in the same spot.
"Butler?"
"I ... I need to think about it."
Silence. Then, "You need to think about it," each word enunciated so slowly and so coldly, it snaps like an icicle.
I turn to Dalton, and I see that same ice in his grey eyes. Cold anger and hurt, and I realize he wasn't saying he didn't care if I went. He'd been wondering why I hadn't jumped in to say I'm not leaving. Now he looks at me, the chill dropping with every passing second. Then he turns and walks out.
"Eric!" I stride after him, but Beth grabs my arm.
"He's fine, Casey. He's not going to be thrilled about you leaving mid-case, but this isn't about him."
"No," I say. "It's about me, and I have no intention of leaving."
A look crosses her face. Confusion, it seems. Then she manages a tentative smile. "Good." She hugs me, and it's awkward, because neither of us is the hugging type, but she whispers, "I'm glad to hear it," and I realize she wasn't saying she didn't care if I left, only that she'd understand if I did.
"I should talk to Eric," I say, turning away.
"Let him go," Beth says. "He's stressed out and exhausted. Better he walks it off in the woods. Take some time and think about this before you tell him you aren't leaving. Be one hundred percent sure."
I nod and say I'm going to go think about it and maybe speak to Anders, and she smiles at that and says, "Yes, go talk to Will. I'll look after Diana." She mouths, "With sedatives," and offers me a smile, which I force myself to return before I take off ... after Dalton.
KELLEY ARMSTRONG is the internationally bestselling author of the thirteen-book Women of the Otherworld series, the Nadia Stafford crime novels and a new series set in the fictional town of Cainsville, Illinois, which includes the novels Omens, Visions and Deceptions. She is also the author of three bestselling young adult trilogies, and the YA suspense thriller, The Masked Truth. She lives in rural Ontario. www.kelleyarmstrong.com
City of the Lost: Part Five Page 6