Cherry blinked. Frozen in place, her arms dangling at her sides, mouth slightly open. “What’re you talking about?”
“He found you. You’re his family.” Finley studied the curve of her cheek. Her nose. And then she knew. “You went to see him every month in prison . . . until just recently.”
Cherry was shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She took another step backward.
“Lance wouldn’t let you go.” Finley saw the whole picture now. “You fought. No one was supposed to be home, except Cecelia had gotten ill and was holed up in her room. She heard the shouting and came to see what was going on. By then the argument had escalated, and you had grabbed a weapon.”
Another step backward. “You’re as crazy as she is. We should call the police. You’re scaring me.”
“No,” Finley said, certainty rooting deep inside her. “I’m wrong. You brought the weapon with you, didn’t you? Did Charlie give it to you to protect yourself? You don’t really seem the type to carry a switchblade.”
No one moved. They all stared at each other as if they’d reached some sort of impasse. Finley’s last words seemed to ring on and on in the thick air. Anger and frustration, triumph and determination—it all burst inside her. The answer had been right in front of them all along.
“It was her,” Cecelia repeated softly. “I know it was her.”
Cherry remained frozen . . . seemingly unable to speak or to run.
“I’ll bet Charlie will confirm it for us,” Finley said. “He’s not happy with you right now, is he, Cherry? That’s what all this is about, isn’t it? You stopped visiting him, and he decided to show you just what he could do from that prison cell.” Finley’s anger turned to outrage. “He even gave you a scapegoat—Cecelia. All you had to do was fall back in line.”
Another beat of tense silence.
“He just wanted me to be happy.” Cherry looked around as if hoping to find some miracle that would rescue her. She shrugged. “He said I was his sister and he wanted to take care of me. He killed our father for me. The bastard intended to kill me and Charlie after he killed our mother, but Charlie stopped him.”
The image of a little boy picking up a shotgun and shooting his father to save his baby sister seared through Finley’s mind. Horror quaked through her.
“How did he find you?” Finley asked, her voice hollow. She would bet money Penelope Keaton hadn’t told him where his sister was.
Cherry leaned one shoulder against the wall as if the weight of her story were too heavy to continue carrying without support. “He found out a long time ago. He said he tracked down the cop who investigated his parents’ case and got the truth out of him. He had been watching me since.” She touched the shape on her cheek. The one Finley had noticed the last time they’d talked. “He said my mother had this same birthmark.”
Finley wanted to hate Cherry for what she had done to the Legard family. But she was a victim the same as the twins. The outrage whooshed out of Finley and left her feeling empty and exhausted. “When did the two of you meet?”
“Five years ago. He saw me at the Paradise.” Cherry hugged herself again. “We became very close. It was surreal. Like an angel God had sent to save me from my mistake. I told him about Lance, and he told me I should protect myself.” She shook her head. “But I never expected to . . . I was just so angry. I’d only meant to scare Lance off, but things got out of control.”
“You called your brother, and he came to your rescue,” Finley guessed.
“He came over and cleaned up everything. He told me not to worry, that he would take care of it. He knew how.” She exhaled a big breath, traced a crack in the wall with her forefinger. “I thought when he went to prison it would be over, but it had just begun. He wouldn’t go away. He sent his followers to check up on me, and when I stopped visiting and decided to go on with my life, he started this new nightmare. He wanted me to see there was no escape. I knew he could change his story at any moment, but I was willing to take the risk. To call his bluff.” She stared directly at Finley then. “I had to. It was the only way to protect my son. No one could know what really happened.”
Except everyone had to know the truth. This was the moment in a case when Finley usually felt jubilant, satisfied that she had accomplished her goal. Those feelings were oddly missing in this instance.