Page 96 of Trust No One

“Are you telling her about Maria?”

“We should do that together.”

He dropped his head. “Okay.”

“I won’t leave you two alone going forward.”

“I’m her father.”

“And you’re the guy charged with her mother’s death. Play this smart, Gabe.”

He was silent, his jaw tightening.

“Do you hear me? You’re going to stay in this house, and you won’t do anything until we talk again.”

“You’re talking to me like I’m a child.”

How many times had I parented grown men and women who’d made bad decisions that had landed them in my office? “Promise me.”

“Sure.”

I used to believe . . .

Danger wore a warning sign.

But here’s the truth.

It doesn’t . . .

if I’m very careful.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Raine

Wednesday, October 21, 2026, 11:00 a.m.

At the courthouse, I waited outside the family judge’s chambers. The Hale name, my history—and the estate’s—were checkered, but I hoped time had blurred the old scandals.

The clerk appeared and ushered me inside. Judge Frances Tate stood behind a large wooden desk. Mid-sixties, steel-gray hair scraped into a bun, half-glasses perched on her head.

I’d been in countless chambers. In the early days, nerves had knotted my stomach, but experience had dulled the edge. Until now.

I crossed the room, extending my hand. “Judge Tate, I’m Raine Hale.”

Her gaze flickered down to the notes on her desk. “Ms. Hale. You’ve made a splash since your return last week.”

“More than I intended.”

“I was sorry to hear about your cousin. Maria Durant nursed my mother last year.”

“It’s a shock.”

“Agent Blackwood is investigating the case. He’s arrested Maria’s husband.”

Her command of the facts didn’t surprise me. “Yes.”

“And you’re representing him?”