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“Maybe so, but I’m calling to let you know that he’s not the one you have to be afraid of.”
Ismay pictured the duffel bag and its contents. “What are you talking about?Remyisn’t safe?”
“It’sBowho’s dangerous, Ismay.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Bo is—”
“You know he’s a murderer, right?” Annabelle broke in.
Ismay started to laugh. “Oh, my God! No, he’s not! That...that’s outlandish!”
Annabelle remained unruffled; she merely sounded sadly adamant. “Apparently, he’s duped you, just like he duped me.”
The fact that Annabelle wasn’t backing off sent a chill through Ismay, but she still couldn’t believe it. “He hasn’tdupedanyone—”
“Check your texts,” Annabelle interrupted again. “I just sent you a picture of his driver’s license under his real name. Do a Google search on that and see what you come up with. I’m sorry I ever trusted him, that I exposed you to a man like that. I—I should’ve done a background check. I just never dreamed...”
Ismay didn’t respond. Eager to see this “proof” Annabelle purported to have so she could shoot it down, she navigated to the picture that’d just come through. It was a driver’s license, all right—one with Bo’s picture as a much younger man and the name Beau Landry.
Thishadto have been doctored, she told herself. She was intent on finding the flaw in what Annabelle had sent, so she told Remy’s mother that she’d get back to her and hung up and opened her laptop. But when she typedBeau Landryinto Google, the links that appeared made her skin prickle.
Son Kills Father, Claims He Murdered Mother
Son Secures Justice for Mother Eight Years After Her Death
Beau Landry Gets Revenge on His Own Father
Beau Landry Sentenced to Twelve Years
Jury Empathizes With Boy Who Lost Mother, Goes Easy on Landry
She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see what she was seeing, didn’t want to believe it. But Bo had told her his mother had been killed. The timing matched. One article even mentioned that he’d been living in Louisiana with his great-uncle after his mother was killed. Too many details fit with the little she knew of Bo. And now she understood why he hadn’t been more forthcoming...
The article that shocked her the most was titledSister to Testify Against Beau Landry. That had to have been excruciating for him, but even that fit with what she knew.
Ismay dropped her head in one hand. She’d been so caught up in what was inside the duffel bag she’d found, what it might mean about Remy. Now she wondered if it wasBowho’d hidden that stuff. He was in and out of the cottage; he could easily have stashed it anywhere he liked.
But that didn’t explain the picture of Lyssa. How would he even have known her? And why encourage Ismay to go to the police?
Some details fit, others didn’t. Her head was spinning. But Bo was an ex-con. There were too many articles to deny it. And although she ached for him, losing his mother when he was so young, she had to wonder if he was truly capable of shooting and killing someone. Did he have that kind of rage inside him?
It was possible...
What kind of person, exactly, had she trusted?
Suddenly ice-cold, she could scarcely breathe. She’d made love to Bo. She’d thought of almost nothing but him ever since. She’d trusted him over Remy and Bastian.
And how did she feel now? Shocked. Betrayed. Hurt most of all. Surely, the Windsors’ retribution would be swift. They’d fire him, of course. But maybe they’d spread the word about his background around the island, so he wouldn’t feel comfortable returning and wouldn’t be able to find work even if he did. She could even see them threatening to alert any future employer, which would make the coming years incredibly difficult—unless he could find a way to disappear again.
Setting her computer aside, she pulled the lap blanket from the arm of the couch over her and curled up as she stared blankly at the opposite wall.
Her phone dinged again. She thought it might be Annabelle, trying to confirm that Ismay had found the articles backing up her claims. But Ismay didn’t want to read whatever message she’d sent, let alone respond to it. She didn’t want to hear from Bo, either. Right now, she had no idea what to say.
Remy had tried calling him twice in the past fifteen minutes. Bo had silenced both calls; he had no interest in talking to Remy. If the Windsors had something to say to him, Annabelle or Mort could reach out. But he’d sent Ismay three texts since she’d asked him where he was in Louisiana, and she hadn’t responded. That made him wonder if something was wrong...
Bastian better not have done anything to her. The fact that he’d stolen a pair of Ismay’s underwear—and that he had a collection of other panties in that damn duffel bag—scared the hell out of him.
Everything okay?he wrote to Ismay.
