Page 75 of A Vintage of Regret
“I’ve become aware, but I don’t know the logistics of it.”
“Alright.” Sandy waved her hand.
Harlan shifted his stance against the wall.
“I know you’ve been away a long time. But you know the people in this town. The history. Tell me what you know about the relationships between Monica, Kelly, and your mother.”
“None of them are good,” Riley said.
“And how does Grant play into that?” Sandy asked.
“Kelly doesn’t like Monica, but that feeling is mutual. My mom doesn’t respect Kelly and again, mutual. I really don’t understand Monica and my mother having any kind of bond, except mutual hatred of the Boones.” Riley sighed, frustrated.
Sandy picked up a pencil and tapped it against her temple. “One last question. Does your mom have any reason that you can think of to want your father dead?”
“I can’t think of one,” Riley said.
“What about pinning it on your brother?”
Harlan coughed.
“Is that what’s happening?” Riley asked.
“I don’t know, you tell me.” Sandy’s tone had just enough dryness to make it sound like a yes.
“I mean. My parents had a bad marriage. My mom constantly belittled my dad. It wasn’t good. But if you’re asking me for a motive—you know, like on TV—I just can’t come up with one. Not one that makes sense.” Riley sat back and pressed her palms into her eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Is it true? About the autopsy? About the poison? Is that my father’s cause of death? Because we can’t get an honest answer. All we’ve been told is there was ‘something’ in his labs that didn’t make sense. A substance that could be considered a toxin, and his death is now suspicious.”
Sandy’s expression didn’t shift. “I can’t answer that.”
“Can’t,” Riley echoed, “or won’t?”
For a beat, the only sound was the radiator clanging twice before settling. Sandy set down her pen. “Riley, I need you tounderstand something—this is bigger than any one interview. The less you know right now, the less likely it is that someone can accuse you of interfering later. That’s protection, not punishment,” Sandy said. “And, it’s both. We don’t know exactly what killed your father. We just know it wasn’t a heart attack.”
Harlan closed his folder. “She’s right. You’re better off letting this play out through official channels,” he said. “She’s given us more than you think. Trust me.”
Riley let out a humorless laugh. “For some reason, it doesn’t feel that way.”
Sandy’s brow lifted a fraction, but she didn’t comment. “We’re done for now.”
Sandy stood, and Riley followed her out into the waiting area, where Byson sat in one of the chairs.
He rose, and in seconds, was standing at her side, arm wrapped around her waist, as if to hold her up.
Harlan leaned against the counter.
“Thanks for coming in, Riley,” Sandy said. “Harlan, can I have a word?” She turned and disappeared down the hallway, Harlan, one step behind.
Riley stared at the empty space, squeezing Bryson’s hand.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I will be when I know what those two are talking about.”
Bryson kissed her temple.
