Read Online Tell Me You're Sorry by Kevin O'Brien - Free Book Online Page B

obviously, she wasn’t doing too well.”
    â€œDo you think it’s possible she spent everything on drugs or gambling?”
    â€œCould be,” he said, frowning. “Some people can keep their addictions secret while going through money like grease through a tin horn.”
    â€œWell, then that’s it,” Stephanie said. “It might also explain the murders—if Halle owed someone money and couldn’t pay. Maybe that’s why she was the only one who . . .” Stephanie hesitated. Halle was the only one who wasn’t shot in the back of the head. Stephanie kept thinking that perhaps a drug dealer or a mobster Halle owed money to had extracted revenge by executing every member of her new family right in front of her.
    Bradley patted her arm. “I’m sure the police are looking into every possible explanation.”
    Marlene cleared her throat. “This jewelry my son was supposed to have given her, do you know if it was stolen? Or did she have the good sense to store the more expensive pieces in the safe deposit box?”
    â€œScott didn’t give her access to that, too, did he?” Stephanie asked him, a hand over her heart. “My mother’s jewelry is in there . . .”
    Bradley drained the rest of his coffee cup, and then sat back. “I went to the bank this morning. Halle’s listed as an alternate key-holder . . .” He looked across the table at Scott’s mother, “So are you, Marlene—in the event of his death. I have Scott’s key with me now.”
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    Stephanie and Bradley sat in gray-upholstered chairs kitty-corner to each other in the little waiting area of the Chase Bank branch. Neither of them said a word. In the chair across from them, a thin thirtysomething blonde was talking on her cell phone—a bit loudly. Stephanie did her best to ignore her.
    She stared past the chatty woman’s shoulder at the teller stations behind the tall Plexiglas wall. At the far corner was the gate that led to the stairs and the safe-deposit boxes on the lower level. Mrs. Hamner had been down there for five minutes now—but it seemed longer.
    Stephanie felt silly, caring so much about some old jewelry. Maybe it was because those pieces were the only things left of her mother and her sister that hadn’t been stolen, police-tagged, or dusted for prints.
    But if Halle had had access to the safe-deposit box, then inevitably, those untainted treasures were long gone. Damn her , she thought.
    Stephanie found herself absolutely loathing this Halle person. She couldn’t help wondering if Halle had been manipulating Scott back when Rebecca had still been alive. Was she the reason for Rebecca’s suicide?
    She remembered what Scott had said about Rebecca having written “Hate You” on the bathroom mirror. Did Halle have anything to do with that?
    Shifting restlessly in her chair, Stephanie glanced again toward the gate that led to the bank’s basement and the safe-deposit boxes. Still no sign of Scott’s mother.
    Marlene had given Rebecca a beautiful pearl necklace and a diamond spray pin that had been in her family for generations. They were supposed to be in the safe-deposit box, too—along with some bonds.
    Stephanie drummed her fingers on the armrest. She was getting really tired of listening to the woman across from her yapping into her cell phone. Stephanie wanted so much to tell her to shut the hell up.
    â€œWhat’s taking so long?” Bradley sighed. “Is she tunneling her way to the safe-deposit box?”
    Stephanie turned toward him and shrugged. He glanced past her—toward the gate area. Then he frowned. “Oh, shit . . .”
    She saw he was looking at Scott’s mother, who had paused at the gate. With her shoulders slumped, she held her coat and purse. She looked utterly defeated.
    Marlene looked back at them and shook her head.
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    â€œThank you so much for