June’s father had robbed her of her childhood. Her tomorrows.

Her expression softened. “My muses. They inspire me. Take me to new heights. Make me believe in love and happily-ever-after.”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Yvette ease open one of the cabinets. Searching, she supposed, for something to use against the woman.

Good girl.

Patti worked to keep June talking, fully focused on her. “Then they betray you.”

Her expression hardened again. “Yes, they betray me. I see they’re weak. And foul.”

“The way you were weak?” she said softly. “When your father abused you?”

Her face went momentarily slack with surprise, then a dull flush crept up her cheeks. “No,” she snapped. “I loved them. They betrayed me.”

“What about Sammy?”

“A horrible mistake. A tragedy. He came to check on the house, to make certain looters hadn’t broken in. Caught me driving off with my sweet Jessica. He followed.

“You can’t imagine how upset I was. I drove on, hoping he’d give up, realize I was fine. But no, not Sammy. He signaled me to pull over. Get this.” She leaned slightly forward, as if still amazed. “To tell me my trunk wasn’t completely latched.”

“You pulled into Audubon Place. No one was around.”

“Yes. It was getting late. Everyone had evacuated. I got out of my car. I hid my Club…that anti-theft thing, behind my back. And I hit him with it.”

Patti listened in horror, imagining Sammy, his last thought before he went down.

“I had to do it, had to shoot him. I didn’t want to, I really didn’t. I loved Sammy.”

Patti wanted to scream “Liar!” That she couldn’t have loved Sammy. If she had, she wouldn’t have killed him.

But confronting a crazy person only made them crazier, and she and Yvette were in enough trouble already.

“What about Tonya?” Yvette asked, voice sounding stronger than before. Patti saw the cabinet was closed and she was holding her hands oddly.

June looked at her. “Tonya wasn’t your friend. She tried to blackmail me. She didn’t care about you, just wanted money. Stupid whore.”

“So you killed her. Hacked off her hand.”

“Yes. She approached me at the Hustle. I went there after Shauna’s opening. I was angry at you for flirting with Ruston. For going off with Riley.”

Patti shifted, wincing at the pain in her back. “You used your left hand to take hers. To confuse us.”

She looked surprised. “Not at all. Tonya didn’t deserve my kindness, my loving attention and care. That’s only for my sweet girls. I took her hand because I could. And I thought maybe I could use it. As usual, I was right.”

Patti fought to keep her fear and revulsion from showing. “You were the dark-haired woman the neighbor saw Tonya leave with?”

“Yes. One of many roles.”

She smiled and turned back to Yvette. “And I killed Marcus because he hurt you. It was for you, my sweet Yvette. All for you.”

“I didn’t know,” Yvette whispered, voice trembling. Her eyes welled with tears. “I thought you were like the others. All the ones who hurt me.”

Patti watched, heart thundering. She didn’t have a clue what Yvette had planned, she just prayed it worked because they were running out of time.

“We’re alike,” Yvette whispered. “You and I. I didn’t know. We belong together. We’ve been hurt by those who were supposed to love and protect us.”

“Yes,” June said, nodding. “We are. I knew that but you-”

“Didn’t,” she finished for her. “Will you ever forgive me?”

“You had sex with Riley.”

“A mistake. The whole time, I was looking for you, and-” Her voice caught on a small sob. “I didn’t see, you were right there.”

June’s grip on the gun wavered. A tear rolled down Yvette’s cheek. “Hold me,” Yvette pleaded. “Please…just hold me.”

June helped her to her feet, put her arms around her. With a whimper, Yvette brought her cupped hands up, as if to stroke June face.

Instead, with a primal cry, she ground something into June’s eyes.

June howled and fell backward against the vanity, clawing at her eyes.

The gun hit the floor. Yvette dove for it, falling hard, elbows cracking loudly against the tile floor.

She got it, anyway, curled her hands around the grip and pointed it at June, her hands shaking so badly the muzzle bobbed up and down.

“Give me the gun!” Patti ordered. “Let me do this.”

Yvette shook her head. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“Give me the gun,” she said again, more firmly.

“She killed Riley.” Her voice trembled. “Sweet Miss Alma. Tonya. They never hurt anybody. They didn’t hurt her.”

“I did it for you,” June said again, dropping her hands. Her eyes were tearing, the skin around them blotchy and bright red. “So they’re dead because of you.”

“No! That’s not true!”

June’s stance and expression altered subtly, becoming more masculine. “If you hadn’t come on to Riley, like a little whore-” The pitch of her voice changed, deepened. “If not for you he’d be alive.”

“Shut up!” The gun bobbed. “It’s not tru-”

June lunged. Patti shouted for Yvette to watch out. The sound of the weapon discharging was deafening in the small room.

June stumbled backward, a hand to her chest, a look of utter disbelief on her face. Then she went down.

In the distance came the sound of sirens.

The cavalry. Thank God.

With a sob, Yvette dropped the gun. Drawing her knees to her chest, she began to cry deep, wrenching sobs.

Patti dragged herself to the young woman’s side. “You’re going to be okay,” she said, voice cracking. “We are. Because of you.”

She sobbed harder. Patti caught Yvette’s hand, curled her fingers around it. “You saved our lives. You saved mi-”

“I…wouldn’t…count on that.”

Patti’s blood ran cold. Feeling as if life had gone into slow motion, she turned her head. June had the gun. She lifted it, aimed at Yvette.

No! The word resounded through her head even as she mustered all her strength and threw herself on top of Yvette.

The gun went off. One shot. Pain. Intense, searing. She heard Yvette’s scream, the voices of others, shouts. Spencer.

And then silence.

77

Sunday, May 20, 2007

9:15 a.m.

Patti opened her eyes. Spencer sat beside her hospital bed. He was smiling at her. “Hello, sleepyhead,” he said.

She returned his smile, groggy from pain medication. “Hey.”

“Doc says you’re going to be okay. Bullet went through a fleshy spot, raised a little hell, but didn’t do any permanent damage. As for the scissors, you’re gonna have one ugly-ass scar.”

“Can’t kill someone as ornery as me.” She found the remote and, with his help, raised the bed until she was in a sitting position. “That’s better. How are Stacy and Shauna?”

“Dehydrated. Sick from the mold. Otherwise unharmed.”

She curled her fingers around his. “And you and Stacy?”

“We’re good, Aunt Patti. Really good.” He cleared his throat. “You were right about Yvette. And Franklin. And I was so wrong. If you hadn’t stuck to your guns, Yvette would most likely be dead and Franklin standing trial for a murder he didn’t commit.”

She had found Sammy’s killer. Stopped the Handyman from ever hurting another woman.

Yet she couldn’t rejoice. She had been betrayed by someone she had loved.

Seeing Patti’s expression, he curved his fingers tighter around hers. “I’m sorry, Patti. I can’t believe Aunt June…you know. I just…can’t.”

Neither could she. She might never be able to truly accept it.

“At least I know the truth about Sammy.”

She could let go now. Take the next step in her life.

Yvette tapped on the door. “Can I come in?”

Spencer smiled and stood. “Hey, Yvette. I was just leaving.” He kissed Patti’s cheek, then straightened. He walked to the door, stopped and looked back at Yvette. “By the way, peppermint salt scrub in the eyes? Good thinking.”