The True One

Chapter 22

Alek

"This isn't necessary," Flora said several times from the backseat while enroute to her mother's house. "I know you want to understand your mom's reasons for taking her life, Verity—that makes perfect sense! I would too. But if my mom had any answers, she would have told you a long time ago. Hasn't she always been open and honest with you?"

This was a question for Verity, not me, and so I bit my tongue. Guilty people often withheld self-incriminating truths. I understood that well enough from my own strained relationship with Norvin. Val Marquez may have no information to contribute, or she may have every reason to keep her mouth shut. For all we knew, her silence was being bought. After all, her pad in Manhattan Beach wasn't exactly what you'd expect from a single mother on a nurse's income.

"It's true. Your mom has been wonderful to me over the years," Verity said. "Which is why I'm hoping she can help now."

"Not sure how helpful she'll be on pain meds," Flora grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. Val had undergone a procedure on her kneecap, not open-heart surgery. There was no reason she'd be incapable of answering basic questions, such as the ones I had lined up:

How are you feeling?

Can we talk to you about the past?

What where the circumstances surrounding Cora Hargrove's death?

Were you involved in a secret organization that did experiments on people who may or may not be werewolves?

Were my parents the victims or the perpetrators?

"We'll go easy on her," I said, but that was to be determined. What questions we posed would be dictated by Val herself. Was she open and forthcoming, the way Flora claimed she'd always been? No problem. She'd tell us what we need to know, then we'd hug, and leave with good will.

Was she defensive and tightlipped? That would have a darker outcome. After losing our opportunity to find answers at the archives, I'd be damned if I was going to let this lead fail us.

My phone beeped from its docking station.

"Who's 'Old Man?'" Verity asked, reading the name that popped up on my screen. "Oh, wait, I think I can guess."

"Yep. He's called and texted a million times. I'm ignoring him."

"Why?" She twisted around to glance at Flora, then said in a low voice. "Won't he help us?"

"He's the last person who will." I scowled. Norvin had been the closest thing I'd had to a father since I was six. Even with our hot and cold relationship, I'd always trusted he'd been upfront with me about my parents' deaths. But now I knew too much; everything he'd ever told me had been to serve his best interest, not mine. "Even if he spouted a bunch of words that sounded helpful, we'd never be able to tell what was truth and what was lies. Besides, he's probably the one who... you know." My eyes caught Flora's in the rearview mirror. "Smoked our lead yesterday."

"Smoked your lead?" Flora leaned forward until her head popped up between the front seats. "What are you two talking about?"

"Never mind. I'm just in an argument with my old man."

"Your old man? I thought your father was dead?"

My hands gripped tightly to the wheel as I tried to remember if I'd ever mentioned that fact to Flora. Usually, I kept my parents' unalive status to myself. Amongst the spa squad, Verity was the only one I'd finally told, and that was after a considerable battle with my deep-seated trust issues. "Let's just focus on your mother. I promise we'll be nice."