The Heiress(54)

I remember Ruby putting it there, tapping the handle once she was done.

First Carolina Bank, Box 1306. I’ll ask you to keep this information between us, but once I’m gone, do with it what you will.

Another burden, another responsibility bequeathed to me that I’d never asked for, never wanted.

And now you know my biggest secret, Ruby had said, her eyes twinkling, and then she’d given a little shrug.

You could destroy me with it if you ever wanted to, I suppose.

I wouldn’t, I’d said, and I’d meant it. Wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t want to.

She’d smiled at that, and reached over, squeezed my hand, her fingers cold, the skin papery thin. You and me …

Against the world, I’d finished.

Because it really had been the two of us against everyone, against it all. And even after everything that had happened, there was still a part of me that was instinctually loyal to Ruby, that had sworn to keep her secrets and had chosen to do so, over and over again.

Even from my own wife.



* * *



THE LAUGH DIES a bitter death in my throat, and I swallow hard. “And then what? You go to the bank, you find the safety-deposit box. You read the DNA report. You learn the truth about Ruby. You must think you’ve really blown the case wide open, don’t you? You’re certain you’re going to find some kind of loophole in the will now. Something that yanks all this shit away from me and hands it back to you, right?” I pause, staring intently at Ben. “I mean, I assume that was your big reason for becoming a lawyer. And not just any lawyer, but one who specializes in estates. You’ve spent the past decade trying to figure out a way to screw me out of my inheritance, but there isn’t one, is there?”

When he doesn’t answer, I shake my head. “No. I know there isn’t, because I had Nathan Collins go over every bit of that damn will with a fine-tooth fucking comb a decade ago. Ruby was too smart for you.”

I look around the table, at everyone but Jules, who I can feel staring at the side of my face.

Later. I’ll apologize. I’ll make her understand.

“She was too smart for all of you. Still, you wanted to play out this little scene. You figured I’d be shocked, figured I hadn’t done my own homework because––what is it I am again?”

I swing my gaze to Ben. “‘Hillbilly trash’?”

Back at Nelle. “A ‘grasping little bastard’?”

“Okay, can we all just stop talking about this now?” Libby says, dropping her forehead into her hand, and I pluck my napkin off my lap, throwing it onto the table.

“I have nothing left to say.” I shrug. “Except, go ahead. Tell the world Ruby wasn’t a McTavish. Make a big thing about it, if you want. Tangle us all up in court for a million years until every dime of your precious fucking money is in lawyers’ pockets.”

I stand, bracing both hands on the table and leaning in. “Meanwhile, I thank God every goddamn night that I’m not related to any of you,” I say. “And honestly, I think Ruby did, too. So if we’re done––”

“We’re not!” Nelle all but shrieks, thumping the table with one fist, and now Libby gets up, going over to her and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“Nana Nelle,” she says, her voice sharper. “You shouldn’t upset yourself, your doctor said––”

“Your doctor said you had to be careful with your health,” Ben finishes, but he’s still looking at me. He’s not nearly as purple now, and there’s a light in his eyes that has something cold settling in the pit of my stomach.

“Your mother died young,” Ben goes on, speaking to Nelle but watching me. “And your father wasn’t all that old, either. Ruby, of course, lived to be seventy-three, but then she wasn’t actually your sister. I wonder how long she might have lived if she’d had a … natural death.”

Next to me, Jules stands, her hand curling around my elbow. “Camden, let’s go upstairs,” she says, but I feel frozen to the spot.

Even my lips feel numb as I say, “Is this what we’re doing, Ben? Rewriting the past? Ruby died in her sleep. Doesn’t get much more natural than that.”

I say it so easily, another lie that slips off my tongue.

Another one of Ruby’s secrets, locked inside my chest.

The memories are there, pushing against the back of my eyes, threatening to drown me, but I’ve had a lot of practice keeping things hidden over the years, and even as Ben smiles at me in a way that has my teeth clenched and sweat dripping down my back, I meet his gaze.

“Thing is, Cam,” Ben says, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels in a way that reminds me so much of Howell it’s eerie, “things weren’t great with you and Ruby at the time, if I remember. You weren’t even speaking to her, were you?”

I don’t answer, and Nelle sinks back into her seat, still trembling, but her gaze is turning triumphant now. I think of Howell’s email again, Nelle insisting Ruby killed herself, the only one who ever suspected the truth.

Libby stands there in her pink dress, her lower lip pulled between her teeth.

“And of course,” Ben adds, “you were here at the house that night. The night she died.”