Chapter Thirteen #2
Margo stiffened. Her fingers tightened even more, and for a moment, Lily wasn’t sure she’d answer. But then Margo gave a slow nod, her gaze dropping to the photo of her son.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I told both my sister and Bobby Ray the day before Hannah was killed.” Her voice changed, flattened, but the heat in her eyes surged. “Hannah laughed. Said I should’ve been more careful. Like it was a joke.”
The bitterness in her tone wasn’t masked. It scraped at the words, exposing something sharper beneath.
Griff didn’t press her on that. Not yet. Instead, he followed the thread. “How did Bobby Ray take the news?”
Margo hesitated again, and Lily could almost see the memories clawing their way up. “He was shocked,” she said finally. “Really quiet. But not angry. He just said… he needed some time to think about it.”
She glanced at Lily, then at Griff. “He wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t yell or accuse me of anything. He just—” Her voice cracked. “He just left. Said he’d talk to me the next day.”
Lily jotted the note down but felt the tightening in her chest. Because that next day? Hannah was dead. And Bobby Ray’s life had been ruined.
Setting down her pen, Lily studied Margo for a moment, watching the way her jaw clenched and unclenched, the way her gaze kept drifting back to the photo of Caleb. It was as if the boy’s face—so clearly Bobby Ray’s—had cracked something open in her. But not all the way.
Not yet.
So Lily nudged it further. “What if Bobby Ray took the fall on purpose?” Lily asked quietly.
Margo’s eyes snapped to hers.
Lily kept going, her voice even. “What if he thought going to prison was better than the alternative? What if he believed that by staying quiet, you’d be free to raise the baby, keep your life intact?”
Margo’s breath caught, just barely.
“But then,” Lily added, her voice softening, “he got sick. He knew he was dying. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want his son to grow up thinking his father was a murderer.”
She let that hang there, heavy and personal. “Maybe that’s why he sent the letter to me,” Lily added.
Margo didn’t respond right away. Her mouth opened, then closed, and Lily could see the war on her face. Grief, confusion, a deep crack of sorrow that might never fully close. But even in the silence, Lily saw it. A glimmer of something that looked a lot like truth.
Griff leaned forward, his voice quiet but deliberate as he picked up where Lily left off. “For that theory to work,” he said, “Bobby Ray must’ve believed that you killed your sister.”
Margo’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “No,” she whispered.
But Griff didn’t stop. His tone stayed calm, steady as if he was guiding her through the wreckage of something that had been buried for too long.
“If he thought the mother of his child had committed murder,” Griff continued, “he might’ve decided the only way to protect both of you was to take the fall. Maybe he even asked to be framed. Is that how it played out, Margo?”
David Kellerman pushed up from his chair, hand out like a stop sign. “Deputy, that’s wildly speculative and inappropriate.”
But Margo wasn’t listening. Her breath hitched. Then again. Faster. Her chest started to rise and fall in short, shallow gasps, and her hands flew to her face.
“No—no, no, I didn’t—I didn’t!” she cried, her voice cracking as she shook her head, over and over.
“Margo,” Lily said gently, but the panic had already set in.
The lawyer turned to Lily and Griff, eyes sharp now with something more than legal irritation. “We’re done here. I need EMTs now. She’s in distress.”
“Interview paused,” Griff said for the sake of the recording, and he took out his phone, calling for help.
Margo pressed her hands against her temples, rocking slightly, her breaths ragged. Lily watched her, heart pounding, not just from the unfolding panic attack but from the truth clawing its way out. Because panic… didn’t always come from innocence.
Lily stepped into the hall, her boots soft against the worn floor as the door to the interview room closed behind her.
Griff joined her, folding his arms as they watched through the small inset window.
Inside, Margo sat slumped in the chair, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts.
Her lawyer had crouched beside her, murmuring something low and firm, trying to talk her down.
“It’s real,” Lily said quietly. “The panic attack. She’s not faking it.”
Griff gave a small nod, his eyes still locked on the scene inside. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Which means this interview’s done. At least for today.”
True. They wouldn’t get anything more out of Margo until she was stable. And with her attorney now glaring toward the door like he was ready to block it with his body, there’d be no convincing him otherwise.
Lily sighed, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. They’d been circling the truth for days, brushing up against it, only to watch it retreat like smoke in their hands. Margo’s panic was real, but it was also a shield now. And that meant waiting.
She stepped back into the room just far enough to catch the lawyer’s attention. “When the EMTs arrive, we’ll send them back here,” she said. “If you or your client need anything in the meantime—”
“We don’t,” Kellerman snapped, standing now with his arms crossed protectively in front of Margo. “What we need is for you to leave. You’ve pushed her too far already.” He narrowed his eyes, the words cutting sharp and fast. “So do everyone a favor and take your accusations with you.”
Lily didn’t reply. She just nodded once and stepped back out into the hall. Lily checked the time on her watch and was about to say it would be over an hour before Everett’s scheduled interview—plenty of time to regroup—when Griff’s phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen and instantly stepped away from the door to the interview room, closing it gently behind them before answering. “It’s Holly,” he said, his brow already furrowed. He tapped the screen and put the call on speaker.
“Holly?” Griff said. “What’s going on?”
Her voice came through in a whisper that was sharp and panicked. “There’s an intruder in the office building. It’s not Mr. Langston. He’s not coming in today. I don’t know who it is. They’re in one of the back rooms, I think. I heard a crash.”
Lily’s blood went cold.
“Did you see them?” Griff asked.
“No—no, I just heard something when I was in the bathroom,” Holly blurted, still whispering. “I locked myself in and called you. Please, can you come?”
“We’re on our way,” Griff said, already moving.
Lily was right behind him, adrenaline firing through her limbs. Someone wasn’t finished covering their tracks.
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