As Lie The Dead (42 page)

“My wife. I had a god-awful headache from withdrawal, so she drove home. She’d had a glass of wine, always does when we eat Italian. If they’d thought she was driving, they’d have done a blood test. I couldn’t do that to them. She wasn’t drunk. It
was
an accident, but Alex … I couldn’t let him think his mom …”

Leo couldn’t let Alex hate his mother for drinking—even if she was under the legal limit—and killing herself and her daughter. Leo had known he’d be blamed anyway for not driving, so he’d taken all the blame onto his own shoulders. For six years.

“It’s okay.” I understood, and he seemed to realize that. He cleared his throat hard and rubbed his eyes again. He seemed finished with his story.

My turn.

“Leo …” The words wouldn’t come out. I’d practiced this all morning, rehearsed the speech in my head. Tried out different ways of telling him something a father should never hear about a child. News I’d never had to deliver before. And now that I did, I couldn’t look up from my hands.

“It’s okay, Chalice.” He reached across the pocket of air between us and squeezed my knee. “Please … tell me how my son died.”

My head snapped up, and I met his eyes. Sad and determined, they asked for details on something he’d already accepted. My nervous stomach settled a bit. I covered his hand with mine and squeezed.

“Okay,” I said, and took a deep breath. Exhaled. “I’m not Chalice Frost.”

He blinked hard and pulled his hand away. Confusion and hurt thinned his lips and hardened his stare. “So what are you? Some sort of cop? Is Chalice just an alias?”

You have no idea
. “No, I’m not a cop, Leo. My name is Evangeline Stone, and two weeks ago I died.”