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I was wrong. I had a few admissions left... so did they. “You were both acting weird. I thought the business might be in trouble and tried to check. I figured you hadn’t said anything because you didn’t want me to worry.”

Gram didn’t look impressed with my attempt to shift the spotlight to them. “And you checked our financial solvency by sneaking around?”

“The point is you could have asked us,” Celia suggested.

“We all know you wouldn’t have answered.” The paralyzing anxiety that had settled in and pressed down the minute we started this conversation loosened. The easing of the gripbolstered my confidence. I wasn’t the only one in the room with secrets. Big secrets. “While we’re disclosing things, how about you two take a turn.”

“I’m not sure why you think we’re done talking about you and your choices, young lady.”

That tone usually worked. Gram knew when to use it and when to ratchet up tension. Not going to happen this time. If we were opening up and sharing, they needed to open up the vault and take a turn.

“The locked-up cupcake supplies, which are now not locked. The disappearing stars on your spreadsheet. The funeral pie recipes.” I didn’t go into greater detail because I shouldn’t have to.

“I don’t know—”

Celia sighed. “Mags, don’t even try. She clearly put some of the pieces together.”

An ally. A reluctant one, sure, but Celia wasn’t hiding or putting me off. I wished that made this conversation easier. “I poked around on your work computer then did a bit of research...”

Gram frowned. “What research?”

Nope. Nice attempt at derailing, but nope.“On your clients, the delivery of pies, and dead husbands. I know those things are related. You’re involved. Somehow.”

I waited for adon’t be ridiculousorthat’s a wild storyor a similar line likewe could never, but they didn’t say anything at all. That was their answer. The truth waited in the quiet, lurking and ready to spring.

Thinking something was true and knowing it were two different things. Did I celebrate my ingenuity or find them a lawyer? Maybe rush them into hiding?

No matter the fallout, one truth couldn’t be ignored. “Oh my God. You really did poison Cash Burns, Abigail’s husband.”

More silence.

This time Celia broke it. “Not exactly.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Did you just saynot exactly?” Jackson’s even voice cut through the still room.

I turned, for once hoping not to see him, but there he was. Standing with his hands hanging by his sides and his gaze locked on his aunt.

No, no, no.“You should leave.”

He couldn’t play the role of attentive nephew right now. He couldn’t help or even listen to this. He needed... What was the term? It came to me in a shot. “Plausible deniability.” Cover from the fallout. Political career or not, his job was to keep his hands clean.

The color left Celia’s face. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Yes. That. He should. I counted on his twenty-hour workday, but he’d parried when I least expected it. He picked today to take off early. Of course. If I’d known he was on his way over I would have locked the door. Saved him from this conversation and the ramifications of having my poison theory confirmed.

I glanced at the clock. It was a little after four. “Why are you here?”

“I texted you a couple times and didn’t hear back. I wanted to come by and make sure everything was okay after that messyesterday.” He blew out a haggard breath as he walked across the room to join us. “Apparently it’s not.”

I slipped my cell out of my pocket. There they were. Four texts from Jackson, all smooth until the last one, which read as if his agitation had spiked.

Okay, that was on me. I couldn’t fix that mistake, but I could avoid another one.

I stood up and grabbed his arm. Tried to tug and drag him away from the table and the overflow of confessions. “Really, though, you need to go while you still can pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

Moving him didn’t work. He stared at me like I’d lost it but didn’t shift an inch.