House Of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

was strong even with the cream Geena had thoughtfully added.
    Geena turned to lean back against the door. She fixed me with a hard stare. “You don’t suppose he’s going to tell us the truth, do you?”
    It had crossed my mind. “I don’t know. I suppose better late than never, but I can’t imagine he would.”
    “Piper thinks he might. We were talking about it on the way to the airport.”
    I tried to put it all in perspective. “But why now? Why after all this time would he finally be willing to talk to us?”
    “Maybe he’s feeling guilty. Maybe he plans to come clean.”
    I couldn’t imagine the family secrets being laid out on the table—not even for us. Piper popped out several vehicles ahead. She seemed to have lost track of where our car was. I leaned out the open window and waved.
    “Over here, Piper!” I called. She heard me and made her way over.
    “He didn’t sound guilty,” I said, turning back to Geena. “He sounded strange—not at all like himself.”
    “I know what you mean. He did lack that businesslike determination when I talked to him on the phone. He almost sounded—”
    “I couldn’t remember what kind of car we rented,” Piper declared as she got into the back seat. Neither Geena nor I said a word. She looked at us and the smile faded from her expression. “You’re talking about it, aren’t you?”
    “ It? Have we really reduced that night to nothing more than It ?”
    Piper crossed her arms and sat back. She looked irritated. “I don’t know why we have to be quiet about that night. It’s been fifteen years. We ought to be able to ask Dad to explain what happened.”
    “We ought to be able to do a lot of things,” I replied, feeling more frustration than I cared to admit. Piper had been so young and all I had wanted to do was protect her. I still felt like that was my number one job in the family.
    Geena, ever the realist, glanced over her shoulder at Piper. “Our father killed our mother. What’s to explain?”

Chapter 3

    F or several minutes none of us said a word. It was as if the truth, spoken aloud, had somehow caused us all to go mute. Pain in my hands made me realize I had gripped the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver. I loosened my hold, but it didn’t do much to relax me.
    “Look, I know we made a promise to never talk about it—to never ask Daddy about it,” Piper began, “but I can’t help but think enough time has passed. We’re all grown, after all.”
    “I doubt any amount of time is enough when a murder was committed.” Geena turned to me. “But I do agree with Piper. Enough is enough. We have to confront him. We have a right to know what happened that night and why.”
    “But we know what happened,” I said, shaking my head. “Confronting Dad won’t change that, and it very well might ruin our relationship with him.”
    “Relationship?” Piper asked. “I have more of a relationship with his checkbook than with him.”
    I shrugged. “Well, it will put us all in an awkward position.”
    “More awkward than what we’ve already known?” Geena asked. “Come on, I think we all know this family can’t get much more dysfunctional.”
    “Things can always get worse,” I muttered.
    Piper surprised me with her growing irritation. “But I would like to know the truth. Look, Dad probably wants to tell us as much as we want to know. Can you even imagine carrying something like this around for all these years? I think it would be a relief to share the story.”
    I felt my stomach lurch. I was either becoming seasick or talking about that night was getting to me. I sipped my coffee and closed my eyes. Coming here had been a bad idea. A really bad idea. And I found myself simply wishing I could talk . . . not to my therapist, but to Mark.
    Where had that idea come from? Was it now, when I felt time and memories ganging up on me, that I would admit my longing for Mark Delahunt’s comfort? I chided myself silently. Next thing