Framed!. Robin Caroll

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СКАЧАТЬ Renault, not at all. Hadn’t she drilled into Ava over and over…Renaults don’t show emotion, Ava. We’re above that.

      “Unto Him we lift Dylan…”

      Ava’s heart thudded at Reverend Harmon’s words, recalling the last time she’d heard him utter them. Her father’s funeral. The kind, loving man who’d always done what he felt was best for his family…his life taken in that horrible accident. An unfortunate accident, an untimely death that left Ava with a bitter, resentful mother to take care of. Although, Charla Renault hadn’t taken long to adjust to being in a wheelchair. She’d soon been back to her usual controlling self, wreaking havoc in her children’s lives.

      Ava let her gaze fall on the elaborate coffin poised over the open grave in the Renault plot. Her stomach knotted as she blinked furiously.

      She. Would. Not. Give. These. People. The. Satisfaction. Of. Seeing. Her. Cry.

      Especially not Micheline Pershing and her cohort.

      Morbid curiosity had been the only reason the good folk of Loomis had shown up at the funeral. That, or fear of disappointing Charla, who held a lot of power in the little town. They all thought Dylan had been nothing more than a spoiled playboy. They didn’t know the sensitive brother she’d grown up with. The one who’d endured their mother’s unfounded rages and protected Ava by sneaking them out of the house when Charla would tear into her husband. The teenager who’d kept Charla away from Ava most of her formative years.

      Ava ached for his protection from the rumor mill today.

      A loud moan ground out beside her. Her mother had a death grip on that poor dog, Rhett, who endured the unfamiliar hold. Charla hunched over in her wheelchair and moaned as if she’d been stabbed.

      Poor choice of words. Ava licked her lips.

      Again, whispers rose from the row behind her.

      “Can you believe she’s daring to show emotion?”

      “I can’t believe she even has emotions,” Micheline replied. “I didn’t think people with ice running through their veins had any feelings.”

      Ava narrowed her eyes and tossed a frown over her shoulder. The rudeness of people never ceased to amaze her. Especially here…now…barraging against her grief.

      Charla let out another sob. Ava wanted to cry all the more. Never before had the matriarch of the Renault family deigned to allow anyone outside the family see even the slightest sign of weakness, perceived or real. Even when she was recovering from the auto accident, she put on a strong front, going into work everyday. Why was she giving the locals food for fodder now? Grief aside, couldn’t she hear Micheline and her followers whispering about the family? Guessing about the reasons why someone would take Dylan’s life?

      Murdered. Ava couldn’t imagine someone hating Dylan enough to kill him. Shot in the back, like some mangy cur. Sure, he’d broken a lot of hearts over the years, but she didn’t think there had ever been a relationship so serious that it could’ve mustered enough feelings of regret or revenge to murder her brother in cold blood. As far as she knew in the business world, Dylan was a fair player. Maybe it was time she looked into the family business. Maybe Dylan had been a different kind of executive than she thought. Over the last few weeks, Dylan had changed. It seemed like he was finally growing up and becoming the man their father would’ve been proud of.

      Even though Sheriff Bradford Reed had recently all but accused him of murdering his ex-girlfriend, Angelina Loring, who had been found dead in a swamp on the outskirts of Loomis—just after Leah Farley had gone missing.

      Now Dylan had been murdered, his promising character cut down just as he was coming into his own. It was unfair, just like so many things in life. What in the world was happening to the quiet town of Loomis? Ava shuddered and shook her head.

      “The peace of the Lord be with you.” Reverend Harmon approached the front row and bent to take Charla’s hands in his own. “God will comfort you in this time of loss.”

      It was as if Charla didn’t even hear his words. Her tear-stained face focused on the coffin, her eyes red and glassy.

      Ava swallowed, silently praying for the Holy Spirit to wrap her in peace and comfort. Why, God? Why take Dylan from me, too? Wasn’t Daddy enough?

      People stood and milled about, whispering in small groups. Screams rose in Ava, begging to be released. How could they just stand around so casually, gossiping or discussing the latest episode of their favorite sitcom? Her brother was dead…gone. He left behind a mystery no one had figured out. Sarah’s father… Such cryptic words. It just wasn’t like Dylan, so what he’d been trying to say had to be vitally important. Critically so.

      Ava’s friend and child psychologist, Jocelyn Gold, wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed her before releasing her. “Are you okay?”

      “I’m holding my own.” Ava glanced at the tall, handsome man hovering over Jocelyn’s shoulder.

      Sam Pierce. FBI.

      Ava let out a slow breath, struggling to recall the weeks before Dylan’s murder. The FBI had been called in on Leah Farley’s case and worked the attempted kidnapping, but they’d only assisted Sheriff Reed with the murder of Angelina Loring. Had Sam also believed Dylan guilty as well, or had he just been doing his job?

      Sam offered his hand. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

      “Thank you.” He couldn’t be all bad. Not if Jocelyn was in love with him, and by all appearances, Jocelyn was starry-eyed over him. The man had a job to do and had done it, that was all. She widened her smile. “I appreciate y’all coming.”

      Jocelyn gave her another hug. “Call me if you need anything.” She looped her arm through Sam’s and headed toward the line of parked cars.

      A few brave souls from her mother’s generation approached Charla, offering weak sentiments of comfort. Charla accepted their gestures amid tears and clinging to her trembling dog. Ava shifted away. How sad that her mother really had no one to confide in, talk with, share her grief with. For the first time, pity for Charla rose within Ava. Her mother had no friends or confidants. Only Bosworth, the son of Charla’s father’s driver, who’d served Charla since she was a young woman. He’d stayed with the family through Charla’s marriage, and remained her faithful servant today.

      “Ava.” The voice reached right into her heart and pierced it.

      She spun to face Maximilion Pershing. “Max.” Her gasp caught in her throat as her pulse raced.

      “I’m so sorry.” His eyes were the color of hot cocoa and just as soothing. He laid a steady hand on her shoulder. “I know this sounds so lame, but if there’s anything I can do for you…” He paused, swallowed hard, then continued, “I hope you know I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

      Of all the people who offered condolences, Max meant the most to her because he knew the pain she felt. He knew her, and he understood. And maybe, just maybe, he still cared. He’d loved her once. Could he again, despite the history between them? Ava blinked back the tears threatening to spill. “Th-thank you.”

      He leaned closer and pulled her into his arms, hugging her gently, yet firmly.

      Her heart pounded as if she’d СКАЧАТЬ