If India wanted her daughter back without a fight, she had to ignore her own despair and convince the Sommerses that this was only a temporary setback.
“It’s beyond heart-wrenching,” Claudia said. “There are no words for what we’ve suffered.”
That was true. The past eleven months had been hellish. And yet, for her own sake as well as Cassia’s, India had to keep herself together. She was fighting to do that. Charlie wouldn’t want them to be miserable, but this new hurdle...
India wasn’t sure how she’d get past it.
“They’ll find the gun,” she said. “That’s what they need. If they find the gun and they can link it to Sebastian, they’ll have him.”
“You knew Sebastian well,” Claudia said. “What could he have done with it? Where might he have put it?”
That night was a jumble of terror for India, but she could trace the gun through those memories because Sebastian had it in his hand, pointed at her, for so long. She’d spent hours believing he’d shoot her, and Cassia would be an orphan. “I told you. I told everyone. He took it with him when he ran out.”
“If they haven’t found it by now, they never will,” her mother-in-law said. “What more can they do that they haven’t already done? What more can we do? We hired that PI—little good it did us. He accomplished nothing, and the police haven’t been much better. Detective Flores will move on to other cases, and we’ll be left with our lives destroyed and Charlie’s killer running around free.”
“Please. Don’t talk like that,” India said. “We have to retain hope.”
“I have to go,” Claudia said abruptly.
India was afraid to let her hang up for fear of what she might decide. “I’m sorry about this, Claudia. I wish... I wish Detective Flores had given me better news, but...don’t assume the worst. We’ll see justice yet.”
“Is that what you think? Because there is no real justice. You get that, right? Even if Sebastian goes back to prison for life, we’ll still have to live without Charlie.”
“Which is hard to fathom. I know.”
“You do? Because sometimes I can’t help feeling...”
India’s stomach cramped at the sudden bite in Claudia’s tone. “Yes?” she prompted when her mother-in-law’s words fell off.
“As if you’re—”
Someone—her father-in-law?—spoke in the background, but India couldn’t make out the words.
“Never mind,” Claudia said instead of finishing.
That sudden reversal led India to believe Steve had anticipated what was about to come out of his wife’s mouth and admonished her against it.
“What?” India pressed, but she could guess. The Sommerses had questions about her involvement with Sebastian. They didn’t understand why she’d been associating with him again. If she hadn’t accepted him back into her life, none of this would’ve happened.
India wished she could explain. She’d tried, several times. But in light of what Sebastian had done, her reasons sounded lame. Everyone thought she, of all people, should’ve had some idea what he was capable of. Yes, she’d known he could be angry and unreasonable, even unpredictable. He’d gotten her in serious trouble when he robbed that liquor store on a whim. But he’d been young and impulsive, and he’d done what he could to make sure the police understood she’d played no part in it. That was why they hadn’t charged her. He’d apologized over and over for involving her that day.
Prison and the drugs he’d taken over the years had changed him more than she could ever have dreamed. She’d assumed he’d learned his lesson—and was just down on his luck. She’d also naively thought she could help him.
How she wished she’d never responded to that first message on Facebook. She’d been beating herself up over that ever since. At first she hadn’t understood why she’d allowed Sebastian to reconnect with her, either. But, unlike the Sommerses, she had no family. That made her hesitant to cast old friends aside, even if they’d once been boyfriends.
“We love Cassia,” Claudia said. “She’s all we have left of Charlie. Thank you for letting her stay with us.”
In other words, Charlie’s mother was biting her tongue in order to preserve the relationship. But the calm her in-laws affected almost worried India more than if they’d unleashed their anger and disappointment. So much turbulence churned under the surface of those “still waters,” probably more than she’d ever be able to overcome.
She feared where those powerful currents were carrying them...
“Of course. Cassia loves you. So do I,” she added, hoping to retake some of the ground they’d lost.
Her mother-in-law wasn’t receptive. “Good night” was all she said.
As Claudia disconnected, India let her head fall against the cool glass. It wasn’t until she heard the sound of a mower in her own yard that she remembered Rod.
She hurried out front to find him cutting her grass. “Rod!” she yelled, trying to flag him down.
When he finally heard her, he looked over.
“You don’t have to do this,” she shouted above the noise. “It’s getting a little overgrown, but I plan to buy a mower on Monday. I’ll take care of it then.”
“No big deal,” he said. “Won’t take long.”
He seemed more than capable in spite of his broken hand. And here in Whiskey Creek, neighbors probably did that type of thing for each other. But receiving even a small amount of kindness on the heels of that call with her in-laws brought a lump to India’s throat.
“Thank you,” she said and turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes.
* * *
That night, Cheyenne brought over some lasagna and garlic bread. While Natasha helped her serve dinner, Rod and his brothers tossed Kellan around, making him laugh and squeal. Cheyenne complained that they were getting him too riled up, but Rod could tell she liked the attention they paid him. Kellan certainly enjoyed the roughhousing.
“More,” he’d say whenever they stopped. It was about the only word he knew, besides Mama and Dada.
J.T. and Anya either heard the noise or smelled the food, because they entered the kitchen just as Cheyenne asked about their new neighbor.
“She’s all moved in,” Grady told her.
“I’d love to see the inside of the house now that it’s been renovated,” Cheyenne said, interested because she used to live there before she married Dylan.
“I bet she’d show you.” Mack handed out forks. Rarely were their meals formal occasions, with someone setting the table beforehand. They ate whenever they were hungry and fended for themselves or ordered out. Heaven forbid Anya would ever go to the trouble of cooking or doing the dishes, even though she didn’t work.
“You should stop by,” Grady said. “And get her number for me while you’re there. She’s freaking gorgeous.”
Cheyenne glanced up. “She’s single?”
“Not sure yet,” Mack said. “She’s wearing a wedding ring, but her husband hasn’t shown up. So...maybe he works out of the state or country.”
“He’s dead,” Rod announced.
Everyone looked at him.
“She told you that?” Mack asked.
“When she gave me a ride home last night.” Rod felt this would be the natural time to reveal that he’d