Chapter 8

EIGHT

Sabella

Roch stands outside the door of the hospital room.

My muscles tense. He returns my glare with a cool look.

"It's all right," Ryan says, touching my elbow to catch my attention.

"You know him?" I ask under my breath.

"Since the last two days."

"What's he doing here?" I ask, not bothering to keep my voice down.

Ryan takes my arm when I don't show any signs of moving. "He and I want the same thing, which is to keep you safe. That's the only reason I'm allowing him near you."

"Or to keep me from talking," I bite out, glancing at Roch from over my shoulder as Ryan pulls me to the exit.

"Bella." Ryan's voice holds a warning. "Not here."

I shut my mouth, but my anger escalates when Roch shoves his hands in his pockets and saunters after us. His casual gait is borderline taunting.

Once we're in the car, I turn in my seat to face my brother. "He's one of Angelo's men."

Ryan pushes the ignition button. "I know."

Does he know Roch has been shadowing me for the past two and a half years? Will it make a difference if he does? As there are too many things I can't explain about the last thirty months of my life, I keep quiet. It's unfair, especially as I'm going to demand answers from Ryan, but we're going through enough as it is. I'm not going to load the secrets I locked away deep inside me on my brother's shoulders as well.

We don't speak for the rest of the drive. When we get home, I'm scared. I'm frightened to go inside, terrified that I won't be able to handle the memories. The house doesn't seem like home without my dad.

Doris, our housekeeper, waits on the front steps. Thankfully, she doesn't greet me with meaningless words. She only pulls me in for a quick, bruising hug before ushering me inside.

Mom, Mattie, and Jared wait in the lounge. Jared stands in front of the window, staring out at the sea. Mom sits on the edge of the sofa while Mattie is reclining deeper on the seat next to her. I'm glad they're not in the study where we usually have our family meetings. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I can't go there yet.

"Bella," Mom says, standing when we enter. She crosses the floor and kisses my cheek. "I'm so happy you're home."

Like Mattie, she wears signs of crying. Her eyes are puffy, and the whites are bloodshot.

Ryan drops my bag on a chair and closes the door. "I think we can all do with a drink."

"I'll pour," Jared says, already making his way to the wet bar. "Spritzers?"

"We need something stronger," Mom says.

My gaze falls on the bottle of Scotch. That was Dad's favorite brand. I have to look away lest I break down and burst into tears.

Instead, I focus my attention on Ryan. "Do they know?"

The question is loaded. I don't have to explain. He understands I'm referring to Dad's murder.

He nods.

Mom sits again, her expression forlorn and her gaze absent.

Walking to the sofa, I face my mom and my sister. "Did you know about Dad's real business, whatever that was?"

Ryan answers. "They didn't. Mattie only knew about the bribes. You know how Dad kept his professional and home lives separate."

"To hide what he was involved in from us," I say, unable to help the bitterness that slips into my tone.

Ryan's voice is quiet. "To protect you."

My words hold an accusation. "Yet you knew."

"I've always been involved in the business." His smile is patient. "Dad had to prepare me for taking over someday."

Jared puts drinks in Mattie and my mom's hands.

I cross my arms. "I'd like to know what exactly that business entails."

"Bella." Ryan observes me from under his lashes. "It's better that you don't know."

"No." I shake my head, declining the drink Jared offers me. "If I'm lying about Dad's murder, I want to know why I'm doing it."

Mom makes a choking sound.

I shoot her an apologetic look, but I stand my ground. No more ignorance. No more staying in the dark.

"She has a right to know, Ryan," Mattie says. "She's not a child any longer."

I look between them—Mom, Mattie, and Jared. "You all know?"

Mom's face is pale. "Ryan told us."

I turn an expectant gaze on my brother.

He takes a gulp of his drink, rolling it in his mouth like Dad used to do, and casts a glance at the closed door before speaking. "Arms smuggling."

I must've heard wrong. A single word slips off my tongue and bursts like a bubble in the air. "What?"

"Part of the business is bringing illegal arms into the country."

My legs wobble under my weight. I plonk down in the nearest chair.

"The import and export business became a good front," Ryan continues. "We make most of our money by facilitating shipments of arms. That's where the bribes come in. We pay high-ranking officials and government employees to turn a blind eye."

My mouth is so dry it's difficult to speak. "How high-ranking are we talking?"

His tone is even. "All the way at the top."

I can't breathe. "As in…"

"Presidents and ministers," he finishes for me.

"Weapons destined for where?" I ask.

"Zimbabwe. Angola. Central and North Africa."

God.

Pressing the heels of my hands on my eyes, I rub away the dryness. The sting. No wonder Ryan said the truth couldn't come out. The reality is much worse than I expected.

"Angelo?" I ask, dropping my hands on my thighs.

"Do not say that name in this house," Mom says in a shrill voice.

"Sorry, Mom." I look at Ryan again. "I have to know."

"That's part of their business, yes," he says. "However, they're more involved in clearing the way for us, so to speak."

Clearing the way. I can only imagine what that means. Getting rid of people in the most literal sense, no doubt.

A shiver crawls over my skin. Now it makes sense why Dad was involved with them. That's why he warned me, why he told me they're bad people. He tried to make me understand, but he couldn't tell me everything.

Shit. That makes us bad people too.

I'm going to be sick again.

"This house," I say. "Everything."

"Don't think like that." Ryan's demeanor is gentle. "There's also the legal side of the business."

Is that supposed to make us feel better? A laugh catches in my throat. The only thing preventing me from letting it out is consideration for my mom. My dad lied to us. He did something terrible, something unimaginable, by putting weapons in people's hands for sinister purposes I don't even want to think about. If I want to puke, how must Mom feel?

"Do you understand why this can never come out?" Ryan asks. "If it does, we'll be hunted by governments and powerful arms dealers."

My family's expressions are mostly resigned. Mom's mouth is turned down, her bottom lip quivering. They've all had time to come to a decision on how to handle the awful situation. They're only waiting for my compliance.

"Why don't we stop?" I ask, looking around the room. "You can cut out the illegal part and carry on with the legitimate business."

Ryan's smile holds sympathy, the kind that an adult reserves for a child who doesn't have a concept of the harshness of reality. "Do you think for one minute the arms dealers will simply accept that? Do you believe they'll shake my hand and say, Thank you very much for doing business with us for the past ten years. We're going to miss you. But don't worry, we'll easily find someone else to smuggle our weapons into your country."

I go cold. Of course not.

"No," Ryan continues. "They'll make us do it. Do you know how? Jesus, I don't even want to go there. Perhaps they'll torture me. Or maybe they'll kidnap my son. Hey, why not kill one of us?" Swirling the liquor in his glass, he walks to the window and says more to himself than to us, "At least they're paying us now. If they force our hand, they may realize payment isn't even necessary."

All those scenarios he mentioned make me break out in a sweat.

"Do you have to be so graphic?" Mom asks in a tremulous voice.

"What?" Ryan shoots her a look from over his shoulder. "Do you prefer that I hide the ugly facts from you like Dad used to do?"

A sob tears from her lips.

"Ryan," Mattie exclaims, scowling at him as she wraps an arm around Mom.

"Fuck." Ryan pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. The last few days were tough. I'm letting the situation get the better of me."

"This is too much, Ryan." I say. "Even for you. You don't deserve this."

None of us deserves the heritage Dad left. And for what? For a pretentious house on a hill by the sea? For fancy cars and glitzy parties?

"We've all been questioned, Bella," Mattie says. "The doctor was kind enough not to let the police interrogate you at the hospital. He said it was better done at home in an environment where you feel safe. You'll have to give a statement too. We just have to make sure we all tell the same story."

"Like the one I briefed you," Ryan says. "Stick to the truth as much as possible. That's the golden rule of lying."

"We have an appointment at your father's lawyer's office the day after tomorrow for the reading of the will," Mom says. "It'll have to be tomorrow."

Ryan turns his back to the window. "It'll be this afternoon. The authorities weren't happy about waiting until after Bella's discharge. I doubt they'll wait longer."

"They don't suspect murder, do they?" Jared asks.

"No." Ryan frowns. "But Bella discovered the body. Questioning her is protocol. I arrived on the scene more than four hours later. They'll want to know why Bella didn't call an emergency service immediately."

Mattie's tone is gentle. "What happened, Bella? Can you tell us?"

I wring my hands in my lap. "When I…" I swallow. "When I walked in on…" I can't say it. "Angelo manipulated my neck." I point at my nape. "He pressed on points that made me black out."

"Son of a bitch," Ryan says with gritted teeth.

"He no doubt did it to prevent you from calling for help," Mattie says. "He couldn't risk getting caught near the scene."

"Or it was an act of mercy," Jared says. "Maybe he wanted to give Ryan enough time to get there, preventing Bella from having to deal with everything."

We all stare at him. Under Mattie's cutting look, his expression drops.

Mom's tone is cold. "There was nothing merciful about that man's actions."

Jared mumbles, "Sorry," and carries his empty glass to the wet bar.

Ryan walks over and places a hand on my shoulder. "You'll just tell the truth of that part then. You blacked out, and when you woke up, I was there."

Swallowing again, I nod.

"The biggest question the police are asking now is why the alarm at the office didn't work," Ryan says. "Mom told them how Dad was getting forgetful of late, sometimes not setting the alarm at home before going to bed. If they pose the question, don't act like finding the alarm inactive surprised you."

I stare at my brother. "What about the guard? Why wasn't there anyone on duty?"

"The guard testified that Dad dismissed him."

"Do you believe that?" Mattie asks.

Ryan hesitates.

"We need to know, Ryan." Mattie shifts to the edge of the sofa. "We better know if we're to keep our stories straight."

Ryan's reply is reluctant. "Angelo paid him to keep his mouth shut."

Mom makes a sound of distress before pursing her lips as if to prevent more sounds from escaping. My heart breaks for her.

"What if he decides to talk?" Mattie exclaims.

Ryan meets her gaze with a calm that belies the situation. "Angelo also paid him to switch off the alarm. That makes him an accomplice. He's not going to talk, but I'm keeping an eye on him."

"Did he tell you this?" Mom asks with flaring nostrils. "That devil of a man himself?"

"Yes," Ryan says levelly.

"You're covering up for Angelo?" The realization leaves me breathless. "Are we going to turn into killers now too?"

Ryan's tone is soothing. "No, but you know what's at stake."

Wait. What am I saying? We're already killers. We pay criminals like Angelo to clear the way, and we put illegal arms in people's hands.

"Dear God," Mom says, looking away.

Mattie rubs her back. "We'll get through this. Dad did what he did, however wrong that was, but our name isn't Edwards for nothing."

"There's a lot to manage in the next few days." Ryan sounds tired. "I'll cover the finances and make sure the bills are paid. Can you handle the funeral arrangements?"

"Yes," Mattie and my mom say in unison.

It's all so business-like, as if we're discussing a takeover in the boardroom instead of my dad's murder.

"What about his life insurance?" Mom asks.

"If the cause of death is certified as suicide, they won't pay out," Jared says.

"Don't worry about money." Ryan leaves his empty glass on the side table. "You'll be set up for life."

Mom dabs at her eyes with a tissue. "Money is the least of my worries."

"It's tough to think about the bills in the midst of grief," Jared says, "but you should. You don't want to find yourself in a dire financial situation when the funeral is over."

Mattie glares at him. "Thank you for that piece of solid advice. Maybe you should just keep the comments to yourself."

Jared's shoulders sag. "I was only trying to help."

"No one has to worry about our financial situation." Ryan shoves a hand in his pocket. "I'll take care of the money."

I get to my feet. "I'm going to look for Pirate." I need a cuddle like never before. "You did bring him, didn't you Mattie?"

Mattie shoots Jared a panicked look. Ryan's expression is strangely sympathetic.

"What?" My stomach contracts into a ball. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Bella, honey." Mattie cups her stomach. "I'm afraid something happened."

"What?" I say again, my heart tripping over its own beat.

"He got away," my sister says. "Jared tried to stop him, but he ran over the road and…" She bites her lip. "I'm sorry."

I don't believe it. This can't be happening. Is the universe punishing me for something? What did I do? Is it because Angelo manipulated my mom into letting me keep the cat?

Tears build behind my eyes. Pirate was my first and only pet. Sometimes, it felt as if he was the only one who accepted me unconditionally.

I swallow down the tears, not showing my pain. I know my mom never forgave me for arm-wrestling her into keeping him here.

"Where is he?" I ask, my voice steady because I learned how to keep those storms under the surface. "I want to bury him."

"Oh, honey." Mattie flinches. "Jared had him cremated."

"There wasn't much to bury," Jared says.

"Jared," Mattie exclaims. "For God's sake."

"Sorry," he mumbles.

A knock falls on the door. It opens to reveal Doris in the frame. "Excuse the interruption, but the police are here to see Bella."