Page 58 of The Golden Hour

I nod. “What are the chances these bones were here before your uncle made it his workshop?”

“None,” she answers decisively. “Sometimes when he was working, he gave me a garden shovel to dig in here. He said”—she shakes her head, eyes welling—“that maybe I’d find dinosaur fossils. It was just a way to keep me occupied.”

“And he wouldn’t have told you that if he thought you might find a body.”

“Yeah, no,” she answers dryly.

I heave a breath. “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. The family kept the ranch for a dumping site, and these bodies can’t be blamed on Anthony. That means Vivian is screwed.”

“Right, but even if this comes out, she could easily blame this on my father. Or throw Enzo or Franco under the bus. Or she could just pretend she never knew about it.” The volume of her voice increases steadily.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” I say, grabbing her quaking shoulder. “One thing at a time. I don’t know about you, but I’m skeeved the fuck out. Let’s get out of here, then we can hash this out.”

She nods jerkily. “Good idea. Should we, uh…” She nods at the skull.

“I’ve got it.”

As I cover the skull with dirt and pack it down, doing my best to make it look undisturbed, I muse that of all the things I’ve considered doing to impress a woman, this never made the list.

Callisto is the enemy of my enemy, but more dangerous than I ever imagined. I’m starting to think there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

31

The drive begins silently, each of us lost in dark thoughts, but when we reach the interchange for the 101, I blurt, “Can you take me to the apartment instead?”

“Sure.” He pauses. “I don’t know if Molly’s there. She was going to see if Selina would talk to her tonight. I can call her, if you want?”

I shake my head. “It’s okay. I just don’t want to go back there. Not tonight.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Silence descends once more. Every time I close my eyes, I see the bullet hole in the skull. Single shot, close range. An execution. Whoever the shooter was, they wanted their victim to see them and know what was coming.

I think about Enzo’s cold smile. Franco’s shifting eyes. Vivian’s perfect mask. Which one of them pulled the trigger? Maybe it was my father. Without knowing how old that skull is, I can’t remove him from the equation.

Still, there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense. Why would Vivian bring up the ranch in the first place? What is it she wanted me to find? I can’t believe she’d want me to find a body.

“You okay?”

The question makes me aware that I’m trembling. My teeth chatter softly. Finn reaches across the divide to grab my hand. Warm, sold fingers curl around my palm. Anchoring me.

“That was a pretty big shock, huh?”

I wish I could summon sarcasm. A pithy response. Something to make him remove his hand, shift our dynamic back to familiar ground. But I can’t. I cling to his fingers like a life preserver, remembering our embrace in the stable. How right it felt to be in his arms.

Before the skull. Before I saw final, irrefutable confirmation that someone in my family is a cold-blooded killer.

“Thank you for coming with me,” I whisper. “I can’t image if…” I shake my head.

“Neither can I. I’m really glad you didn’t go alone.”

His voice—so solid, deep, and comforting—cocoons me and sinks beneath my skin. I stop shaking, my thoughts clearing. But I don’t let go of his hand.

“Tell me again why we shouldn’t call the police?” I ask.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t,” he says, picking words carefully. “It would be the right thing to do.”

“It would. But like you said, it would drag the entire family into hell. Lizzie and Ellie, too.”

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