Free Tell No Lies by Tanya Anne Crosby Page B

“You?”
    Augusta lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, why not?”
    “Augusta, you haven’t been to Sadie’s in more than fifteen years!”
    Augusta smiled ruefully, knowing that it was hardly an exaggeration. Although Sadie’s house was literally a stone’s throw away, Augusta could barely stomach the place and hadn’t gone there since she was a teenager with a bad attitude.
    Some would say she still had a bad attitude, she supposed. “I guess it’s about time, huh?”
    Savannah smiled. “I owe you one,” she said.
    Augusta gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Nah. We’re sisters. We’re all in this together, right? Just remember this next time I piss you off.”
    Which would be precisely tomorrow, Augusta thought.
    Savannah laughed again. “You don’t exactly piss me off,” she countered.
    Augusta gave her a wry smile, and for once, her barb was meant sincerely and without any sarcasm—at least not much of it. “Only because you were born with a degree of sainthood, Sav—something Caroline and I, unfortunately, don’t share.”
    Savannah gave her a knowing look, one that Augusta recognized. It was a look that made Augusta feel as though Savannah could read her thoughts—as though somehow her sister knew all her darkest secrets. “Maybe I’m just better at keeping the devil on my shoulder muzzled?” she suggested with a bit of a grin.
    “Right. Well . . .” Augusta stood, afraid of where the conversation might lead now. Tomorrow was soon enough to spill her guts about Ian. “I’m off to bed.”
    Savannah gave her another look that made her feel as though she was waiting for her to speak up, but there was no way Savannah knew about Ian or she’d have said something by now, and for the moment that was how Augusta meant to keep it.
    “Good night, Sav.”
    “Night, Augie.”
    “Night, John-Boy,” Augusta added and Savannah’s laughter followed her out of the den.

Chapter 5
    Wednesday, August 18, 8:13 A.M .
     
    Some secrets were harder than others to keep.
    Sadie Childres stared down at the trio of graves at her feet, feeling old and tired. Only through sheer tenacity did the morning sun permeate the canopy of green above, but the grass beneath the huddle of old oaks was thankful for the respite, verdant green even in this hellacious heat. New patches were already beginning to spread over Florence’s grave.
    Florence had been dead four months now, and nothing would ever be the same.
    Sammy’s empty grave lay between both of his parents’, a change decreed by Robert and Florence’s expedient and very discreet divorce. Neither of them had been able to stomach the thought of their bones lying beside each other through eternity. Robert, who, with those smiling blue eyes, could convince anyone of anything. And Florence, whose friendship had meant the world to Sadie—a friendship that had spanned their entire lifetimes.
    Swiping at the moistness gathering beneath her eyes, she blinked at the fresh roses she’d placed upon their graves. Roses for both Florence and Sammy.
    Robert got nothing—the same as he always gave. How anyone had ever loved him was beyond her—how she had loved him was inconceivable.
    So many secrets.
    So many lies.
    So many regrets.
    Staring at the roses, Sadie blinked back the assault of painful memories.
    She had been coming here in secret for years now—ever since Sam’s death. Florence, God rest her soul, had never been able to bear it, but someone had to honor that poor child.
    Devastated over his death, Flo had gone completely to pieces afterward, refusing to give him up, refusing to admit that he was gone. Once the authorities stopped searching for his body—long after there was a chance he might be found alive—she paid to have the shoreline dredged—more to prove he wasn’t dead than to prove he was. With the powerful currents in the channel, his body was never found. But as far as Florence had been concerned, no body meant no proof, and although she went through the