Lilah wrapped her arms around her midsection at the all-too-recent memory. She was deeply grateful Cassidy was okay, but knew her friend still had a long road ahead. Robert had almost gleefully shared the horrific news that Cassidy’s sister had been murdered by her husband years earlier.
Cassidy had worked so hard to move on from the loss of her sister. To have the truth revealed in such a callous manner only reinforced what an evil man Robert had truly been.
She fought off another shiver at the memories of her ex that always hovered just beneath the surface. The angry words. The dismissive statements. But when the statements had turned to fists...
“Fitzgerald shower?”
Cassidy’s statement pulled Lilah from her dark place, the memories skittering back into the shadows. “Yep.”
“Champagne frosting?”
“Of course.”
“Yum.” Cassidy ran a hand down Lilah’s back, the comforting gesture at odds with their casual words.
Lilah should have known her friend had seen the memories reflected in her eyes.
True to form, Cassidy hovered an extra moment—waiting—but when Lilah said nothing, she moved on, pouring a cup of coffee at the counter before refilling Lilah’s own mug. “I’d offer to help, but since a Betty Crocker box mix and Rice Krispies treats are the limits of my baking abilities, I’ll keep you company instead.”
“Never underestimate a woman who can microwave marshmallows.”
“It’s a gift.” Cassidy laid the coffee down.
“And the company’s always welcome.”
They drifted through odds and ends of conversation. An upcoming wedding they each had a role in. Violet’s latest report from the Design District’s last town hall, including a collective promise from the nearby businesses to help keep a closer watch. And a new boutique that had opened in Uptown that they wanted to do some advance recon on.
Normal. Comfortable. And deftly avoiding the elephant that sat on their chests like a lead weight.
“You didn’t stay on long with your mom last night.” Lilah disengaged the paddles from her hand mixer, scraping each with a spatula before giving them to Cassidy. She knew her friend and her pleading puppy-dog eyes were a match for Bailey’s. Cassidy let out a small sigh of contentment.
“No one’s batter tastes like yours.”
“Naturally.”
Lilah waited her own beat before pressing her point. “You haven’t told your mother what happened yet.”
“No.” Cassidy shook her head, her blue eyes going wide.
Lilah knew she wasn’t one to tell others how to make their family decisions, but, well, this was them. They were a unit and she’d be damned if she was going to keep her mouth shut.
The news of Robert Barrington’s death was one more confirmation that things were spiraling out of control. “You need to tell her. For her own protection, she and your father need to know.”
“She won’t keep it to herself.”
Lilah began to transfer the rich, cream-colored batter into cupcake trays. “Then we need to convince her why she has to. We’ll give her enough information to make her understand and keep the rest to ourselves.”
“She won’t. Not coming on the heels of the news about Leah.” Cassidy hesitated, her throat constricting as her eyes grew red at the rims. “I can’t tell her.”
“Then we’ll help you.”
Lilah kept her gaze focused on the neat, even rows of batter as the mixture filled each well of the muffin pan. She knew her friend struggled—from the close call with her ex to the even more startling revelation that her sister, Leah, was killed by her former brother-in-law.
The news had come as a shock—Robert’s confession coming as he attempted to kidnap Cassidy—and Reed had begun working that murder angle, as well. Not that he’d been willing to share much the night before, which had been the ostensible reason for his visit.
“You okay?”
Lilah glanced up from the pan. “Yeah, why?”
“You just looked really annoyed there for a minute.”
Willing that strange mix of frustration and intrigue over the stoic detective to stop messing with her focus, Lilah smiled. “I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m really glad Tucker is here.”
“Me, too.” Satisfied the telling moment had passed, Lilah shifted to the next pan and continued the precise deposits of batter.
“What did Robert get himself involved in?” Cassidy crossed to the sink and busied herself with rinsing off the beaters. “And how could I have been so oblivious?”
“You were in love.”
“No.” Her friend shook her head before turning at the sink. “I understand what it truly means to be in love now, and what I felt before wasn’t even close.”
“It doesn’t mean you didn’t have feelings. Or a basic belief that your fiancé was above theft, kidnapping and possible murder.”
Cassidy scrubbed at her cheeks, the tears fading in the bright morning sunlight that flooded the kitchen. “You sound so rational when you put it that way.”
“Because it is rational. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The words were honest—she meant each and every one—even as a tiny voice rose up and whispered what a hypocrite she was.
Not to mention terribly inept at taking her own advice.
“You’re right. I know you’re right. Maybe if I say it enough times I’ll believe it.”
“Don’t worry.” Lilah ran a spatula around the rim of the bowl, capturing the last bit of batter for the cupcakes. “Tucker’s hell-bent on convincing you. And what he misses, Vi and I can manage.”
“He’s surprisingly stubborn.” A tremulous smile tilted Cassidy’s lips. “Sort of like two friends I know.”
Lilah dropped the now-empty bowl into the sink, then gave Cassidy a quick squeeze. “Skills, we’ve got ʼem.”
“And you bake like an angel.” Cassidy’s arm wrapped tight around Lilah’s waist. “Is there no end to your talents?”
“Nope.”
Lilah reveled in the gentle affection, the love and comfort of her best friend going a long way toward banishing the dark memories that had accompanied her earlier.
Basking in the light of a pretty summer morning and the love of her best friend, she doggedly fought off the memories of a congenial man with the personality of a monster. The deception that lived behind a jovial wink and a knowing nod for the rest of the world.
She’d left that nightmare behind over four years ago, and there was no way in hell she was ever going back.
Reed scanned the paperwork on the clipboard and tried to make sense of what he saw. A hastily scribbled signature at the bottom of official papers ensured one Robert Barrington was released from jail three days ago.
The printed name underneath the scrawl was no doubt fake, but Reed tapped it quickly into his phone before shoving it back into his pocket.
“Thanks, Gannon.”
The officer nodded, his face bright and eager, such a huge departure from the man he’d been a few years before. “Glad I could help.”
“How’s