Blood Ties by Lori G. Armstrong

to one of her parish priests?”
    “No.
    Th
    e priests at our church are as old as dirt. I can’t imagine they would spew anything besides the ‘honor thy father and mother’ line of rhetoric bullshit.” She wrapped her arms around her slight upper body, a self-hug. “God, how stupid is that? My mother lied to her for her whole life, and then my father kicked her out. Sam was supposed to honor that behavior? Get real.”

    “Were you here when Dick kicked her out?”

    When Meredith averted her eyes again, I recognized the maneuver. She wasn’t hiding something; she was trying to get control of the pain. Whatever she was about to say wasn’t pretty.

    “He literally picked her up and tossed her out the front door. Told her never to come back.”

    “Meredith, I know this is diffi
    cult, but do you think
    your father could’ve . . .”

    Killed her?” she said without an ounce of shock. “First, he’d have to remove his fat ass from the barstool. But I’ve never seen him in such a rage.” Th
    e turquoise ring twisted
    round and round on her thumb. “He wanted to hurt her really bad, I could tell. But usually he saves the harshest beatings for Shelley.”

    107

    She glanced up sharply, apparently startled she’d spoken that tidbit out loud.

    I watched Kevin digest Meredith’s proclamation, but he plugged away with more questions, no matter how much the answers bothered him. “After she left here, where did she go?”

    “David told me someplace up on East North Street.”

    “But she didn’t tell you where she’d been staying?”

    “No.” Her gaze slid to the cuckoo clock in the dining room, memorized the crooked, ruffl
    ed lampshade on the
    black lacquer end table, and studied the metal coat tree by the front door before coming to rest on her ring again.

    “You’re sure? Anything would help us at this point.”

    “And nothing is going to bring her back.” She cocked her head; the necklace spilled over her shoulder. “Why are you here asking these questions? I know David hired you.
    Ask him.”

    “What do you think of David?”

    “Why does that matter?” Th
    e gist of Kevin’s question
    slapped color in her ashen cheeks. “You don’t think he killed her?”

    Kevin raised his hands.

    “No way.” Fine hair moved back and forth, pale sea-weed, as she shook her head. “David loved her. David and I were the only ones that loved her. He wouldn’t hurt her.”
    Kevin expertly worked Meredith over with silence.

    “I’d never hurt her either, if that’s your next stupid 108
    question,” she snarled.

    “But aren’t you hurting her now by not being honest with us?”

    Kevin’s gentle chiding never had good results with me either. I watched the wheels come off of Meredith Friel.

    “Don’t you think if I knew anything I’d tell the cops?
    Th
    ey’ve been here.” Meredith jumped to her feet, folding her arms over her scant chest. “I want someone, anyone to care enough to fi nd the son-of-a-bitch that killed her. I want to watch him die for what he did to her. And I want my parents to live in hell for the rest of their lives because it’s their fault that Samantha is dead.”

    In the ensuing silence, I wondered if she noticed my heart slide from my body and land on the fl oor at her tiny, fairy feet.

    “Meredith . . .” Kevin began again gently.

    She whirled on him, blond hair swinging a perfect arc.
    “Don’t tell me you understand, because you don’t. No one can possibly know how I feel. I hate him. I hate them. I hate everyone. I hate that the only person I ever gave a shit about is gone forever.” Head buried in hands, her rapid-fi re gunshot sobs ricocheted off the dead walls.

    Her outburst shrank the room. Th
    e air shriveled, and
    left my lungs. I was suff ocating, drowning in sorrow.

    When she lifted her tear-fi lled gaze to mine, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t swallow either. In that instant, with my guard down, Meredith recognized that I did understand