Page 68 of Luck of the Devil

My palms began to itch, and my throat went dry. I needed a drink. I was desperate for a drink, and a whiskey bottle was three feet away from me.

As though reading my mind, Malcolm grabbed the bottle and poured a tiny amount into the empty glass and handed it to me. I took it with a shaky hand, then gulped the contents down.

“Oh, Harper,” my grandmother said, reaching over and patting my arm. “I’m so sorry. Here I am takin’ badly about your mother and you just lost her.”

I took another gulp, finishing what he’d poured for me, but I still wanted more. I put the glass on the table and put my hand back in my lap, hoping the burn would settle my nerves any second now.

Then Malcolm put his hand on my leg, and a surprising calm washed over me. Some of my anxiety dissipated, but I refused to let myself dwell on why.

“Is that why you came here?” my grandfather asked. “To tell us that your mother had died?”

“Dad said he didn’t tell you, and I felt like you needed to know.” I drew in a shaky breath. “How did you find out?”

My grandmother shot a look at my grandfather, then gave me a grim smile. “Hannah. She saw it online.”

I knew Mom’s accident had made the local news, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for my aunt to have heard about it. The last I’d heard, she lived in Jonesboro too.

“I can’t believe you came all the way up here to tell us,” my grandfather said. “Even though you thought we might turn you away.”

“I hoped that you wouldn’t, but if you did, I would have understood. I thought you wrote me off with my mother, but there was actually another reason.” I suspected they knew about my shooting incident in Little Rock, but there was a chance they didn’t. I hated to bring it up, but they deserved to know everything about me before wholeheartedly welcoming me back into their lives. I paused, preparing myself for the rejection I’d expected. “I was a detective in Little Rock and last fall … something bad happened.” I drew a breath. “I shot and killed a teenager.”

My grandmother and grandfather exchanged a glance, then they both gave me sympathetic looks.

“We know about that too, Harper,” Grandma said. “We saw it on the news.”

I grimaced. “I guess you’d have to live under a rock to have missed it.”

“For what it’s worth,” my grandmother said with a look of determination, “I never believed you lied. You said you saw a gun, so you must have seen a gun.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “How can you say that? You haven’t seen me since I was fourteen, and you’d barely seen me for a few years before that. How could you be so certain?”

“We know who you are, Harper,” my grandfather said. “You always had a good heart. You wouldn’t have shot the boy if he hadn’t had a gun.”

“I’m not sure if you realize it,” Malcolm said, “but other than me and her friend Louise, you two are the only people who believe her.”

My head swiveled as I gaped at him. I’d told him my story two months ago, and he’d believed me, but this was something different. It felt like he was declaring he was on my side.

My grandmother’s face lit up with adoration as she pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m so glad she has you and her friend in her corner.” A tear slid down her cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re a good man,” Grandpa said with a nod.

My deceit about Malcolm’s true identity was eating at me. What would my grandparents say if they knew James Malcolm was a notorious ex-crime boss? I couldn’t imagine my grandfather would call him a good man if he knew about his past.

“I’m not surprised about Sarah Jane turning her back on you,” Grandma said. “She never could abide bein’ in the center of a scandal. She much preferred to be the one doin’ the judgin’, not bein’ judged.”

That fit with my own assessment of my mother.

“But your father,” my grandmother continued, “he didn’t stand by you either?

“No,” Malcolm said before I attempted to sugar coat it, “not until she lost everything and his conscience got the better of him. When she lost her house, he came to Little Rock and offered to let her move into their garage apartment.”

My grandmother tsked. “I don’t understand that. He always doted on you and your sister. I would have thought he’d move heaven and earth to protect you.” She stopped short, her eyes widening slightly. “Then again, I guess he couldn’t keep your sister safe from that kidnapper.”

I bit my tongue to keep from telling her that my mother had blamed me for not keeping my sister safe. I’d already dragged her memory over the coals. No need to roast her anymore.

“He changed after Andi,” I said. “He became more quiet. More distant from all of us. He didn’t handle it well.”

My grandmother pressed her knuckles to her mouth. “We should have reached out to you, Harper,” Grandma said, shame washing over her face. “Especially after you graduated from high school and went to college. Little Rock isn’t that far away. We could have tried to visit you.”