Page 20 of Little Last Words
“I think she does know. Is he a violent man?”
She shifted her attention to Sadie.
“You’re not the only one with questions,” she said. “Why is your house hidden behind a grove of trees? Why is the entire perimeter around this place gated? And why are there security cameras everywhere? Two or three I can understand, but they’re everywhere. Don’t think I didn’t notice when I drove in.”
“Maybe we like feeling safe.”
“I can’t imagine you can afford any of this on a private investigator’s salary.”
“And I can’t see how my earnings are any of your business.”
She glanced around the room, something she’d been doing since she’d arrived—scrutinizing the place. I wondered why.
She pointed to a chandelier hanging in the living room. “What an odd-looking piece.”
“It doesn’t seem odd to me. It’s modern with an antique flair. I love the circular shape, and the lights themselves. They were designed to look like candles.”
“If you say so.” She tipped her head toward Giovanni. “Your husband has a certain look about him.”
I wanted to sayWhat kind of look would that be?
Instead, I said, “He’s not my husband.”
“You live together. He may as well be. As to what I said before, I’m sure you know what I’m getting at.”
“I don’t.”
“Allow me to enlighten you then. We all play with fire in our own way, my dear, whether we want to admit it or not. The trick is how to keep the fire from spreading. I’ve always assumed I had a talent for keeping it contained. Until today.”
There was an underlying current to her statement which told me there was a lot more meaning behind those words.
Was the fire Angelica had referred to Penelope’s estranged husband?
Was Angelica the fire herself?
Or was there a third person, an unknown variable I had yet to discover?
Angelica opened the back door and cupped a hand to the side of her mouth. “Come along, Sadie. Say goodbye. It’s time to go.”
“Wait, please,” I said. “I’d like to help in any way I can.”
“You don’t seem to understand. I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”
Her lips quivered again, a little more this time. Beneath the steely layers was a woman fighting off a plethora of pain. And there was something else—stoking the fire she’d mentioned—a fire I felt certain she wasn’t anywhere close to putting it out.
Revenge was like a double-edged sword.
One side for your enemy.
The other for yourself.
Before Sadie came within earshot, I leaned toward Angelica, asking her a question I couldn’t shake free. “Do you know who killed your daughter?”
She turned away from me and said, “I need to go.”
“Be careful, Angelica.”
“I always am.”