Page 66 of The Women of Wild Hill
Liam ran his fingers over his unblemished forehead. “It seems your sister has a magic touch. By the way, that’s for you,” he said, pointing to a drink on the table next to the neighboring chair.
“You saw me coming?”
He lifted his phone and showed her the feed from a camera positioned to show the front gates. “Gave everyone the week off for the funeral. I’m on security duty today.”
Brigid picked up the glass and smelled the liquid. He’d made her a Dark ’n’ Stormy. “How’d you know what I like?”
“Guessed,” Liam said with a smile that said he was lying. A man with a giant research department at his disposal would have no problem having someone find out for him.
Brigid put it back down. “A girl shouldn’t drink anything she didn’t watch being made.”
“Ah, right.” Liam reached over and picked up the glass. Then he took a swig of the drink and handed the glass back to her. “If I pass out, please be gentle,” he told her.
How many women had been won over by that charm? Brigid didn’t want to admit she was amused. “You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to. Have you seen any of my movies? Gentle isn’t my thing.”
“Oh, I’ve seen all of your movies,” Liam said. “I’ve been your biggest fan from the very beginning. You can quiz me if you like.”
“No thanks.” Brigid took the lounge beside him and sipped her drink. Then she pulled a joint out of her dress pocket. “Is it okay if I?”
“Do whatever you like,” Liam told her. “It’s my house now. I’m an orphan.”
“Yeah.” Brigid took a deep toke and passed the joint over. “How’s that working out for you?”
“So far?” His grin widened. “It’s everything I hoped it would be and more.”
Brigid exhaled. “Where’d you bury the old man?”
“Want to know a secret?”
“Not particularly.”
“That’s what I was doing last night when I crashed. I was spreading his ashes in the water off your estate.”
Brigid was shocked. “You’re fucking kidding.”
Liam shrugged. “It was his last request. I had to do it. The last thing I want is that old bastard coming back to haunt me.”
Brigid hoped every last atom had been washed out to sea. She didn’t want one speck of that man anywhere near Wild Hill. “You know he tried to buy our estate after our mother died.”
“I’m not surprised. He told me once that her spirit was still there. Dad even considered buying a place out on Culling Pointe, but he hated Leonard Shaw. He built this house so he could be close to Flora.”
“So you think he really loved her until the end of his life.”
“As much as he loved anyone in his later years. He was never the same after your mother’s death. I think his heart shriveled. Whatever soul he had left went into his work.”
“Do you think he felt responsible for her death?” Brigid asked.
“Absolutely,” Liam admitted. “But he didn’t kill her.”
“I know he didn’t,” Brigid agreed. “But I’m curious how you can be so certain.”
“Easy. I read his diary,” Liam told her. “I set it aside for you. Would you like a look?”
“Is that why you wanted me to come over?”
Liam smiled. “Well, one reason,” he said. “Grab your drink. I’ll take you for a tour.”
“A tour of your bedroom?” They both knew that was where they were heading. As far as Brigid was concerned, there was no reason to tap-dance around it.
