Deep Water by Mark Ayre (best big ereader TXT) 📕

Alice stared at the mess, only regaining her senses when Abbie stepped forward to help. She raised a hand.

"No, it's okay."

Alice tipped what remained of the tonic into her tumbler and threw the empty bottle into a glass bin beneath the bar. Grabbing a cloth from near the bin, she lifted her tumbler, wiped its base, then wiped the surface with jerking, feverish motions. When the bar was dry, Alice made the cloth disappear and took a large gulp of gin.

“Tony and Aurora were my sweetest children," Abbie said at last. "The wouldn't-hurt-a-fly kind. Adam is loyal. Angel, my second child, Adam’s full sister, is driven, determined, ruthless. Alex, my third child and Tony’s full sister, is the fun-loving party girl.”

Abbie had drawn the same conclusion about Tony, despite the gun he carried and the claim he intended to make an end of Louis. She kept quiet, waiting to hear about the remaining child.

“Ariana was brilliant,’ said Alice. “By far and away the smartest of my children. As a result of that intelligence, she has also always been fiery and impetuous. She has a natural allure that has allowed her to effortlessly accrue followers throughout her life. A neat trick.”

Tony had mentioned this same ability, though he had painted it negatively rather than in a positive light.

“But she was also funny and fun, with the potential for great kindness,” said Alice. "Until her dad died, and I landed myself in prison. After that, Ana turned in on herself. She continued to achieve outstanding academic results. Went to university and law school, if you can believe it. But the loss of her parents—one to death, one to prison—made her bitter, while the murder of her little sister has twisted and warped her into something she should never have become. Something dark and cruel. Maybe that's why I make excuses for her, because I believe she is a victim of circumstance, and I despise myself for the part I have played in her downfall. I also believe she is redeemable. Despite the crushing weight of her grief and what that has done to her soul, I believe someone can save her."

Abbie was not sure about any of this but could not resist using Alice's words to her advantage.

“Someone could save her,” she repeated. “But what better someone than her mother? You could save her if only you would let me help you.”

Alice drank some more, her eyes on Abbie. She was confused, unsure.

"I need to do this. I have to know what happened to Aurora; I must make her killer pay."

"I'm not saying don't go. Just tell me where and when, and I'll do everything I can to protect you from whoever Louis brings. You'll get your shot at the bastard. I won't stop that. I promise."

More of the gin disappeared. The glass was almost empty, but Alice remained on the fence. In the older woman's eyes, Abbie read a desire to be pushed to the right side. Maybe she saw what she wanted to see, but Abbie thought Alice wanted to be persuaded.

"When I saw Ana on the beach," Abbie said, "I thought she was heartless. I imagined no one in this world held her trust or love. Then I saw how she was with you. You may feel you abandoned her by going to prison, that you don't deserve her love, but you have it. Ana loves you and is desperate for your love and respect in return. You may fear what she's become, but I don't think it's too late for you to guide her back to the right path. You can do that, Alice. Can anyone else?"

Alice finished her gin. Glanced longingly to the bottle behind the bar. Perhaps to help her resist the call of the alcohol, she stepped from around the bar and took Abbie's shoulder. She was still on the fence but falling. Abbie thought Alice was ready to do the right thing, to accept Abbie's help.

The door from the kitchen opened.

Releasing Abbie's shoulder, Alice turned. A woman in her late thirties or early forties entered. Like her much younger sister, she was stunning. Unlike Ana, this daughter of Alice possessed a beauty that was more elegant than sexy. The kind of beauty evident from birth, and that would remain as the years slipped away. When most of her contemporaries had lost the looks of their youth, this woman would still be turning heads.

"Angel," said Alice. "School run done already?"

"Ollie’s suspended," said Angel. Her voice was sharp like a blade. The kind of voice you could never imagine being soft. "Fighting, again. He's very distressed."

"I understand," said Alice. "This is a difficult time for all—"

"I've just spoken with Ariana," Angel cut in. "She's upset. This is the woman who attacked her?"

"This is Abbie," said Alice. "When she and I are done, I’ll speak with Ana."

"And what will you say?" said Angel. "Your daughter will expect to hear how you’ve dealt with the woman who mercilessly attacked her. Forgive me, but this looks more like making friends than making her pay.

"Your mother thinks I'm redeemable," said Abbie. "She's offered to adopt me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but I have to make sure she'd still love me if my name didn't begin with an A."

"Abbie," said Alice, "now is not the time."

"No," said Angel. "Now is the time for making this bitch understand we protect each other in this family. Assuming that’s still true?”

Even as she grew more irate, angrier, Angel’s beauty was unaffected. That was unfair, but Abbie tried not to dwell. She focused on Angel's eyes, from which she learned this was about more than just Abbie and Ana. This was about Aurora, too.

"I appreciate your concern," said Alice, keeping a level tone. "But I would ask you leave this to me."

"No," said Angel. "Not until you tell me how you intend to deal with this woman."

Abbie resisted the urge to reiterate her name to Angel. Alice took a breath.

"No harm will come