He gives me a bemused smile. “That went better than I expected, actually.”
“It went exactly as I’d planned.”
“As for your mother’s death,” he says. “You’re sticking with the story that Hargrove killed her?”
I raise my eyebrows. “The witnesses just told you what happened. That’s the only story to tell.”
“I’m not interested in stories, you know,” he says. “Only the truth.”
“Is this a truth you’re planning on pursuing?”
He hesitates for a second, weighing the consequences of picking at a lie he suspects but can’t wholly prove. Then he sighs and slumps his shoulders.
“No,” he says. “She had it coming, no matter who killed her.”
I smile. “We’re in agreement on that.”
Kennedy rubs his face in pure exhaustion. His conscience has taken a beating over the last few weeks. “I never expected
