The Sometime Sister Katherine Nichols (reading in the dark txt) 📖

the relationship and resigned himself to letting her go. It wasn’t as if they’d been making each other happy anyway. But then everything fell apart.

He stopped at this point and requested more water. Adelmo poured the rest of the bottle into the broken man’s mouth and nudged him hard.

“I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen, Grace.” He gasped for breath. “There was no reason for her to come back. I didn’t even know she was there.” He made a gurgling sound that might have been a sob. Then he faced Adelmo. “It wasn’t my idea. None of it. You have to believe me. It was all Prez’s fault.”

Adelmo twisted his mouth into the semblance of a smile and nodded.

“Prez was at the house. He got involved with some Colombians and wanted to set up a deal with them cutting Adelmo out of the picture.” He winced and faced his captor. “I swear, I would never have double-crossed you, but he threatened me.” His voice had taken on a high-pitched whining quality. I fought the urge to kick his chair over myself.

“We didn’t know she was there. I guess we made a lot of noise, and she hid. When Prez left, she came out. Said she just needed to get something from the bedroom and no, she had no idea what we’d been talking about. But I was scared. What if she was lying and planned to go to the cops or found another way to use it against me? I didn’t know what to do, so I called Prez. He hadn’t gotten far.” Ben groaned. “Oh, God, oh, God! What did I do?”

Adelmo gave him a disgusted look, then tapped him on the shoulder, his composure more terrifying than his fury had been.

“Prez promised he was just going to talk to her, find out for sure what she knew. He said I should disappear for an hour, that he would text me when it was safe to come back. I shouldn’t have gone.” He choked down a sob.

“Go on, please,” I encouraged. “Explain how you never thought Prez would put his hands around her neck and choke the life out of her. Tell me all about how you left my sister alone with a sick, sociopathic fuck, never imagining he’d kill her and throw her into the ocean.”

“Please, Grace,” Ben begged. “I never meant for anything bad to happen to her. God help me, I still loved her. You’ve got to believe me. If only she’d just stayed away.”

“Right. It was Stella’s fault for getting killed. I guess you didn’t mean for me to get hurt either when you and Prez took me to that house. What were you going to do, Ben? Screw me and then leave me so Prez and I could talk? Would that have been on me, too?”

He moaned.

“Did you help dump her body, Ben?”

“How could you even think that? It was all Prez. I didn’t know the boat was missing until the cops started asking questions. I confronted him, and he admitted he had taken her body and staged the accident. I found out later he bribed the authorities to cover up the crime.”

His lips twisted in a grotesque imitation of his old smile. Even in his wretched state, he held onto the hope I could be charmed into believing him.

“And that night at the Point, I had no intention of hurting you. I was just supposed to find out what you knew. I tried to stop Prez, but he flipped out. The son of a bitch fired on me. That’s why I got the hell out of there. I swear I’m telling you the truth. I never meant for any of it to happen. Ask Prez if you don’t believe me. Adelmo has him, too. He knows the truth.”

Adelmo gave Ben another eerie smile. “I think you have misunderstood me. Prez will not be answering any questions. It seems the poor man was a bit, how would you say, accident- prone? My men found him unconscious at the foot of the balcony stairs, tangled up with a pool cue stuck in his thigh. Sadly, when he regained consciousness, he resisted their attempts to help him. There was a struggle, and somehow his neck was broken.”

Ben’s eyes rolled back, and blood gurgled from his mouth.

So, I hadn’t been the one who killed Prez. Adelmo’s men had done it and made his death look like an accident, the way Prez had done with Stella, Adelmo’s idea of a little joke.

I guess I should have experienced guilt or at least remorse for my role in Prez’s demise, but I was removed from it and from the desperate man in front of me. I wanted to go to the villa and shower under the stingy stream of water. Then I would pack up and leave Montañita forever.

“And now my question to you is what would you like to do with this pedazo de mierda? He may not have been the one who killed our Stella, but he is just as much to blame. Is he not?”

Yes, Ben was equally guilty of murdering my sister.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“I think you do.” He pulled a gun from his waistband.

I recoiled. “What about the police? Now that we know what happened, they can find enough evidence to prosecute him.”

Adelmo dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand, the one holding the weapon. “Accidental deaths are far more favorable to government reports than murders. And I imagine this man would use his wealth to cut a deal. Or perhaps he would trade information about me for his freedom. Isn’t that right, old friend?”

“I would never sell you out, Adelmo. That was all Prez.” His whine became a low buzz, like an electric saw losing power.

“Of course, of course,” Adelmo patted him on the back, then turned to me. “Even if the police investigated and a judge found him guilty, Ecuador abolished the death penalty long ago.”

His tone suggested