“Max’s business was more of a hobby,” his father said. “But it kept him busy.”
“And away from home.” She glanced away, seeing but not seeing groupings of people still hanging around the cemetery. “How perfect for him.”
If Max Oliver was not already dead….
She looked back at them. “You know, of course, about Max’s second family in Australia. Right? And his bonus child?”
Max’s mother gasped. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. He had a lover and a child. He wanted to keep both families intact. That’s why I filed for a divorce. That and the fact that he beat the shit out of me several months ago, and he was hitting the kids. And this was your perfect son…thepiece-of-shityou protected all these years.”
“Well, I never!”
“Of course, you never. That’s why you had apiece-of-shitson.”
Mrs. Oliver squared her shoulders. “I always knew you would somehow make trouble for us.”
Maggie narrowed her gaze. “Trouble followed your son. I regret every minute that I did the same.”
“We’re leaving.” Mrs. Oliver tugged on her husband’s arm. “Come on, Maxwell.” They headed for the car.
Maggie followed. “Wait. Just one more thing, and I want to make this perfectly clear.”
Mr. Oliver rotated quickly and roared. “What now!”
She stood tall, her shoulders back, her feet planted, and glowered. “You will do nothing to contest Max’s will. Whatever he had in that will remain as is. If I get nothing, fine. If I get everything, fine. But you, and I, will abide by it, whatever it is. Because if you contest even one line item, if you try to take anything from my children, I will sully his name, and your family name, from here to the coast. I’ll make it public knowledge—and I mean very public—about Max’s family in Australia, about him putting me in the hospital last January, about how Caroline wanted to leave him before she was killed. About how he basically kept me prisoner these last damn twenty years—” she gasped, trying to hold back a sob, “just so he could keep squeezing the fucking dollars out of you!”
She exhaled hard—and realized she’d never felt better in her life.
“You want to avoid scandal? I suggest you backthe fuckoff. Got it?”
They stood there. Silent.
“He screwed us all. Didn’t he, Mr. Oliver? Mrs. Oliver? Your goddamn perfect ass son? He screwed you, too.”
They said nothing more. And she was finished.
Damn that felt good.
Mr. Oliver ushered his wife into the waiting town car, slamming the door shut. Maggie watched the vehicle slowly drive away. He stared at her through the window until she could no longer see him.
After a minute, she looked at the McDowell’s, who still stood by in silence. They needed something more out of all of this, too. Didn’t they? They damn well deserved it.
“You are Caroline’s parents. Right?”
“Yes.” They nodded. “We are.”
“I’m sorry. I sort of circumvented your drama.”
Mr. McDowell touched her arm. “No worries. We were winding up. And frankly, watching you was a little cathartic.”
His wife moved closer. “We’re sorry for all you’ve been through.”
Her eyes were kind and still full of hurt—even after all these years. Maggie shook her head. “No. I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sure Max’s death dredged up all kinds of emotions.” She paused, looking away for a moment. “Carolinewaspoised to leave him, you know. You were right. And I can prove it.”
“How?” Mrs. McDowell said. “What do you know?”
“If you have the time right now, there are some things I want to show you… Or rather, give you.”