Circle of Blood (Forensic Mystery)

“you’ve become my muse. Before I came to Silverton, I thought I couldn’t paint anymore. Now I’m alive again. So, what have you been doing today?”
    “Me? I had to work.”
    “At the Grand?”
    “No,” she answered carefully. “There was an accident. A boy died this morning.”
    “Oh.” Her mother frowned. “That means you were working with your father.”
    “Yes.”
    Sighing, Hannah said, “Unfortunately, Patrick was always drawn to death. I never liked it. Truth be told, forensics is not my first choice for you as a career. I know it’s your passion, but there’s a whole world out there, beyond the grim. A doctor, maybe?”
    “You sound like Mammaw.”
    “I do? Well, I’m sure that will be the first and the last time that happens. Your grandmother and I never saw eye-to-eye. She always hated me.”
    Cameryn’s skin tingled with little pinpricks of goose-flesh. Tentatively she asked, “Why?”
    But her mother, as always, ignored the question. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant, like the fact that we’re together. I’m so happy now.” She returned to her painting. It was of an iris, with individual petals as big as her hand. Cameryn watched, unsure of her next move. She remembered that as a child she’d invented a fantasy mother, an angel-mom who’d scooped Cameryn into her arms to rain kisses on her head. The imaginary mother was so different from the flesh-and-blood woman now before her. Because she wanted it so much, Cameryn had been willing to play pretend, had become a partner in this false, manufactured intimacy. “I’ve always loved you,” Hannah had said that first night.
    I’ve always loved you, too. Cameryn had been hungry for it. But the closeness, she realized now, wasn’t genuine. How could you really love what you didn’t know?
    Hannah dabbed paint on the edges of petals. The corners of her mouth lifted, ripples forming at the edges like a series of commas. “Cammie, sit down,” she said. “You’re just standing there. You’re making me nervous.”
    A blue wing chair stood close to the easel, and Cameryn dropped into velvety cushions. The entire room had an overstuffed, plumped feel to it. The comforter was enveloped in eyelets, pillows had been tossed about, silk flowers bloomed from pots placed in every corner while curtains ballooned from the windows.
    “Something has happened. I can sense it. Was it seeing the dead boy?”
    “No. Well, yes, in a way,” Cameryn said, wary of how to begin. “I was bagging the vic’s—I mean, victim’s—property when I started thinking about how you never know when your time’s up. The kid was just driving along, listening to the radio, and then bam!— he was dead.”
    “Is that what’s worrying you?” Hannah asked, amused. “You think I’m going to die? Is that why you’re so nervous? ”
    “No, that’s not it.” Cameryn’s legs began to jiggle. She put her hands on her knees to stop them. “The thing is, you’ve been in Silverton two weeks and—”
    “Three.”
    “Three weeks.” She took a deep, wavering breath. “And I keep thinking that I still don’t know about my life. Or yours. From before, I mean. With Jayne and all of that.”
    Her mother winced at the sound of the name. Cameryn could actually see Hannah’s muscles tighten beneath her smock. “That past is over for me. I want you to get to know the person I am right now.”
    “But you can’t separate the two.”
    “I’ve already told you how I feel. You need to respect my wishes.”
    “Right. But that’s just the thing. I need to talk about it. I know it’s hard. I’ve got this puzzle of my life with huge pieces missing.” She felt a cold wave of disapproval emanating from her mother, so that right then Cameryn almost gave up. Had she not heard her father’s voice in the back of her mind— Secrets were put in place to protect you— she might have turned back. No, she commanded herself. However impenetrable this ice wall seemed, she had to break through. “Just tell me the truth. What happened that day? When Jayne died. Is that why you left us?”
    “Your father put you up to this.” Hannah loaded her brush with paint, her fingers trembling as she swirled the tip into a deep purple, so dark it seemed almost black. “It’s his way to get me out of town, to break us apart. He wants you to leave me.”
    It took a moment for Cameryn to process this, since it was backward from what she’d expected. Hannah to leave