Page 23 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
Chapter Eight
Ivy
Harry enters, carrying a huge box of donuts that smell like fat and sugar heaven.
He gives me a tight one-arm hug, then pulls back. A sweet, sheepish smile curls his mouth. “You hugged me back.”
“Well, of course.”
“I thought you might kick my butt. You never let me get away with anything before.”
I forcibly keep my expression bland, although it’s hard to refrain from hugging him when he’s looking at me like that. “Is that why you brought donuts?”
“Uh-huh.” He gives me sad puppy eyes. “You aren’t mad at me anymore, are you?”
“You lied,” I say.
I’m not angry with him, not after last night, but I’m curious what his plan is. I’m sure he didn’t come here without a strategy of some kind to get me to forget his participation in Tony’s lies. He gave me the puppy eyes. What’s next? Tail wagging? If anybody can manage it, it’s Harry.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! And I didn’t want to. I’m glad it all came out so I don’t slip and call you by your real name. We’ve known each other for almost twenty years. It was hard.” He opens the box. “Here. Take whichever one you want and forgive me?”
It’s impossible to pretend I’m unmoved. And the reminder that we’ve known each other for almost twenty years stirs my sympathy and regret. He’s another of the people I should remember but don’t. It must’ve sucked when he realized I had no memory of him whatsoever. “For a chocolate-glazed plus a promise never to lie to me again…sure.”
Quickly, he points one donut out. “This one.”
I pick it up and take a bite. Pure heaven. “Yup. Totally forgiven.”
Harry puts the box with the rest of the donuts on the coffee table in front of Tony. “Since she got what she wanted, you can have the rest.”
“Wow, thanks,” Tony says dryly.
I sit next to him. “You want a bite of mine?”
“Nope. He brought a sugar-glazed one. That’s my favorite.”
Harry sits in an armchair, but not before snatching a jelly-filled one with chocolate glaze and sprinkles on top.
“If we didn’t have to, we wouldn’t have done it, Ivy,” he says. “I asked a cop friend in Tempérane, and he was like, the case is closed and going to stay that way unless a credible new witnesses or evidence turns up. And sadly…” He shoots me a furtive look. “You don’t remember everything, do you?”
Biting back a noise of frustration, I shake my head. I already knew that’s been a factor, but it still sucks to be reminded of it. I feel like a huge failure for that.
“Did your cop friend ever say anything to let you know why the girl and I were in the same blue dress?”
“He didn’t need to explain that,” Harry says. “It was a performance you had. Every girl in the piano quintet wore it.”
I snap my fingers. Excitement sizzles through me. “That’s it! The girl had to be someone from the quintet. Somebody from the group must’ve gone missing!”
Harry shakes his head. “Actually, the cops interviewed the four quintet survivors after they pulled the car out of the bayou. Nobody was missing.”
I jump to my feet. “But that doesn’t make sense! The girl had to be from the quintet! Why else would somebody be wearing the dress?”
“Yeah, but…” He shrugs. “It wasn’t a secret what you were planning on wearing that night. And it wasn’t a uniform you could only buy from a certain store. It just had to be a sleeveless blue dress.”
I snatch another donut from the box and devour it, hoping more sugar will dull the sharp edge of frustration. I’ve underestimated the complexity of the situation. If the girl wasn’t in the quintet, then she was dressed that way for a reason. Like Bobbi told me on Friday, we don’t know if the real target was me or Jane Doe, and we won’t until we know who she was. But the body was cremated, according to Tony, so there’s no DNA or dental records we can use.
Sorrow replaces frustration as I realize we’ll never know who she is, and her family will never get the closure they deserve. She’ll always be marked as “missing.” Her folks will content themselves with belief that she’s doing okay and happy somewhere…and that’s why she hasn’t reached out to them. Because she doesn’t need them.
And thinking that she and I were both dead is what made the killer lie low. He got what he wanted…until I resurfaced.
