Tell No Lies Read Online Free PDF Page A

this one, they were both probably about ten, wielding sledgehammers. Flo had ordered the demolition of the slave quarters. Knowing how much it meant to Augusta to destroy the relics of their Confederate sins, she’d let both Augusta and Josh hurl the first blows. Her sister Caroline hadn’t approved and had refused to participate. Her eldest sister felt that, right or wrong, the remnants of Charleston’s slave culture were part of their history and should be respected. Her sister Savannah, on the other hand, had been too young to be able to lift the heavy sledgehammers or to have an opinion. But Augusta and Josh had had a field day destroying anything and everything in sight—except that Augusta had limited herself to inanimate objects. Josh had gotten distracted by mosquitoes and flies, wielding his sledgehammer like a Viking murder weapon.
    Their housekeeper Sadie’s only son had been a cocky little kid, full of piss and vinegar. Cherished both by Sadie and by Flo, he was probably the only male Florence Willodean Aldridge hadn’t despised—aside from Sammy, of course. Sammy she had worshipped above all. If not before his death, most especially after.
    Her baby brother’s disappearance had been the turning point in their lives, changing everyone, and not for the better. Caroline had assumed the role of pleaser, taking it upon herself to try to make their morose mother happy and failing at every turn. Savannah had withdrawn into her head while their father had abandoned them less than two months later. He’d gotten himself a new girlfriend and died, all within six months of Sam’s death. And Augusta . . . well, she had become a bit of a hellion—angry and defiant.
    She liked to think she had changed, but the truth was simmering somewhere beneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment. She was still angry, but defiance wasn’t an easy act to play these days. She was supposed to be an adult, not a rebellious teen.
    Who the hell was she defying anyway? Flo had never given a crap about any of her daughters. If they all simply stayed out of her way and out of the press, their mother was a happy little clam buried deep in her palace by the sea.
    With a sigh, Augusta set the photograph of her and Josh down on the dresser, scanning the rest. To look at all the pictures sitting there in a place of honor it was easy to believe Flo gave a damn. But they were probably all for show—so Flo’s guests would praise her undying devotion to her wayward, unappreciative children.
    Or maybe Flo had truly wished to preserve a trace of Augusta here somewhere, as a memorial to the daughter who’d forsaken her. Who knew? All those answers were long gone now, buried along with their mother.
    She eyed the photo of Josh.
    Augusta hadn’t seen him much since Caroline had managed to piss him off by implicating him as a source in her article about the Secessionville murders—an article that, incidentally, also nearly got Caroline’s own fiancé fired from the police force. Much as Flo might have done, her sister had gone after Ian Patterson like a pit bull and Augusta couldn’t help but wonder how much her persistence had had to do with Ian’s arrest. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was innocent. It clung to her more stubbornly than their retriever Tango’s dog hair.
    Disgusted, she turned away from the dresser.
    There were too many things on her mind right now—not the least of which had to do with the renovation of the house. Upon her mother’s death, Flo had left her daughters each with a task—a final distasteful chore to earn one last allowance. With Flo, nothing could ever be given freely. No hugs. No smiles. Everything had to be earned , and the price usually included a piece of one’s soul.
    Caroline’s job was to revive the Tribune— one of Charleston’s oldest newspapers—from its painful death throes. Savannah—her youngest sister and their mother’s favorite—if indeed Flo had a favorite—had to