Page 184 of Trust No One

“If I don’t scare you, then you’re a fool.” I spoke carefully so each word was enunciated.

“Even on the field, you weren’t terrifying. Hit like a truck, but no cheap shots. A straight arrow.”

My patience frayed. “What kind of relationship did you have with Amy?”

He shrugged. “I knew of her. Not a crime.”

I knew Ken well enough to realize he was hiding something. “You slept with her.”

He looked almost bored. “Not a crime to have consensual sex, Judson.”

“You two keep up with each other over the years?”

“Why would I do that?”

My tone was steady. “Amy still looked a lot like Raine. Maybe you were looking for a substitute for Raine.”

Ken’s silence was answer enough.

“Amy loved Hale House,” I added. “And she maintained a connection to the house.”

“Okay. She liked the old house. Who cares?”

“Everyone who could’ve challenged Raine’s inheritance is dead.”

He shook his head. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Judson. I had nothing to do with Amy’s death. I haven’t seen her in seventeen years.”

Ken sounded convincing. But I’d rattled him. I knew he was lying. And he suspected as much. I enjoyed watching him squirm. But it was wishful thinking to believe my suspicions would drive him out of town and to leave Raine alone.

Ken wasn’t leaving. Not yet.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Raine

Saturday, October 24, 2026, 1:00 p.m.

My day in town with Molly was an uneven mix of highs and lows. We stopped at the Crozet diner. After we slid into a booth, I ordered pancakes for Molly and an omelet for me. The waitress took our order and filled my coffee cup, but I felt her gaze flickering between Molly and me.

To distract Molly, I turned over my paper mat and sketched her in blue ink. A round face, tight curls for hair, and a large smile.

Molly watched, frowning. “I want to draw.”

“Sure.” I dug out another pen and flipped over her mat.

She took the ballpoint and lowered her scowling face toward the blank sheet. She drew a house, and beside it four stick figures. Mommy, Daddy, and Molly stood outside the house with two chimneys. Hale House. One female figure was alone inside. Separate. Me.

She’d drawn this scene before. Someone had impressed upon the child that she and her parents were outsiders. But hadn’t Maria promised that Molly would live in Hale House one day?

This family, like the last, were all frowning. The little girl had curly hair and a downward-turned half circle for lips.

“You draw well,” I said.

Molly shrugged. “I’m not that good. You draw better.”

“If you want to learn, I can find an art class for you.”

“No, that’s okay.”