Cross Her Heart (Bree Taggert #1)(17)

She considered Justin and the odds that he’d killed Erin. Bree’s own father had been a chameleon, friendly and amicable when outsiders were present, a bully with his family. Maybe Justin had the same ability to put up a pleasant facade. If so, the kids should have seen both sides of him. She doubted he could have hidden his true nature from the people who lived with him for four years.

“Did you like living with Justin?” Bree asked.

Kayla nodded.

Luke shrugged. “He’s OK.”

“I didn’t want him to leave,” Kayla sniffed. “He was nice to me. I miss him.”

Bree remembered Justin as a seemingly even-tempered man. Erin hadn’t wanted to make him move out, but she hadn’t felt as if she’d had a choice. “Did you ever see him be mean to your mom?”

“Nope,” Luke said.

“Did they fight?” Bree asked.

“Sometimes.” Luke toyed with his fork. “But it was usually Mom yelling at Justin, and him saying he was sorry. He felt bad about the drugs. He wanted to stop. He just couldn’t.”

“Addiction changes a person,” Bree said.

Luke didn’t respond for a few seconds. “Justin was kind of a pain, always wanting to do stuff with me. But he was never nasty to me or anything.”

Erin had said Justin tried too hard, and Luke had resented the pressure. Luke blew his hair out of his eyes, and Bree saw conflict in them. The teen had given Justin a hard time, and now he regretted it.

“Neither one of you were ever scared of him when he lived with you?” Bree asked.

Both kids shook their heads.

Kids had good instincts. As a child, she’d been terrified of her father. Maybe Matt was right about Justin too. Maybe he was innocent, and Bree couldn’t separate her own past from the present. She might be as prejudiced as the chief deputy.

Bree’s phone vibrated, and she glanced at the screen. Her heart dropped.

The medical examiner’s office.

She pasted a bland expression on her face. “Excuse me. I need to answer this.”

Swiping “Answer,” Bree walked out the front door and closed it behind her. Thankfully, the morgue assistant didn’t expect her to hold a conversation but simply told her the autopsy was complete and she could view her sister’s body.

Bree hung up the phone. Nerves rattled inside her. Did she go solo or take Matt up on his offer? Nausea turned her stomach at the thought of going alone. It wasn’t weakness. She wasn’t a robot. Seeing her sister’s body should disturb her. Her hands trembled as she texted him.

He texted back in a few seconds. Pick u up in 10.

As cold as she was outside without her coat, the last thing she wanted to do was go inside. Should she tell the kids? She wanted to be honest with them, but there were details they did not need to know.

She schooled her face and went inside. “I need to run a few errands.”

“But you just got here,” Kayla protested, her lip quivering.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” She hugged her niece.

“I want to go home.” Luke frowned at the studio. Adam had not emerged.

“Me too,” Kayla said.

“Let me take care of some business, then I’ll see about getting you home. I need you to hang here with Uncle Adam for a little while longer, OK?”

The kids nodded, but they looked disappointed.

“Luke, do you remember Justin’s friend Matt Flynn?” Bree asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“I need to talk to Uncle Adam for a few minutes. If Matt comes to the door, would you let him in?”

“Sure.” Luke nodded and bowed over his phone.

A news report interrupted Kayla’s TV show. Bree saw her sister’s photo and Justin’s on the screen. Under the images, a headline read ESTRANGED HUSBAND WANTED IN WIFE’S DEATH. Kayla stared, her eyes wide open with horror.

“The Taggert family has a long history of violence and tragedy,” the journalist began.

Rushing to grab the remote from the table, Bree pressed “Guide.” A grid of channels replaced the news report. She tossed the remote to Luke. “Can you put a kids’-only channel on, please?”

“Sure,” he said, but the pain in his eyes told her that the damage had been done.

Bree went into her brother’s studio to let him know she’d be leaving for a while. Adam stared at his painting.

“Adam,” Bree said.

“Yeah,” he answered without looking at her.

“Look at me.”

“What?” He blinked away from his work.

Bree sighed. “I have to go out. Keep the TV on channels that won’t play the news and try to distract the kids.”

“How do I do that?”

“Interact with them.” Bree stopped, realizing her voice had sharpened. “Look, I know how you get when you’re painting, but they need you. Not just to be in the same house, but to be there.”

“OK. I get it.” His eyes drifted back to the canvas. “I’ll be finished with this section in a few minutes.”

No, you won’t.

Someone cleared his throat, and Bree turned to see Matt standing in the doorway.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” she said to her brother’s back. She returned to the kids and put on her coat. “Lock the door after I leave.”