Simon Says Die by Lena Diaz Page B

his hand tightened.
    â€œA few days later, my father was dead.” She was silent for a long time. Finally, she shrugged. “A week after that, Damon died in the car accident. I never thought about canceling the divorce proceedings. I’d totally forgotten that I’d even filed, until my lawyer contacted me. He said since Damon had been declared dead, obviously there was no point in finalizing the divorce. But . . .”
    She tugged her hands away from his and shoved her hair back behind her ears.
    Pierce steeled himself for whatever lie she was about to tell him.
    â€œI guess I just wanted those papers to make it feel official, that it was really over. So I had the lawyer push it through.” She shrugged. “There wasn’t any point in telling anyone after that.”
    He didn’t believe for one second that a judge would waste his time processing a divorce when one of the parties in the divorce had been declared dead. He made a mental note to press her about the divorce later. He frowned as a new thought struck him. “Damon didn’t know about the divorce?”
    â€œNo one does. Except you.”
    â€œThen, if he’s alive, he would assume if something happens to you, he’d inherit your money.”
    She blinked at him in surprise.
    â€œYou never thought about that?” he asked.
    â€œWell, sure, but I thought if he’d been declared dead, he’d have no claim to my estate.” She wrinkled her brow. “Even if that’s not the case, I still don’t see how he’d think he could get my money, not after faking his death. He obviously . . .” She swallowed. “He obviously killed someone, put his wallet, jewelry, clothes, on some other man and staged the accident. He’d be arrested for murder if he turned up to claim my estate, wouldn’t he?”
    In a perfect world, yes. But Pierce had seen far stranger things happen. Justice didn’t always work the way it should.
    â€œFaking your death isn’t strictly illegal. There’d be questions, lots of questions. He’d have to come up with an incredibly plausible explanation for how another man died in his car, and why he didn’t come forward at that time. But if there’s no physical evidence, and he can explain his actions away somehow—he could still inherit. Can you think of any reason he’d want to pretend he was dead? Was there some reason he needed to disappear?”
    Her eyes widened as she looked down at her feet.
    Pierce sighed. Once again, she knew something, or at least suspected something, and wasn’t telling him. “You can afford to live wherever you want. Why not just move back to New York until all of this blows over?”
    Her head jerked up. “I just moved here. I’m in the middle of renovations. And I love this city. I don’t want to leave.”
    â€œEven if it means you could be killed?”
    She waved her hand in the air. “I’d be just as much a target if I went back to New York. He found me here. He’d just find me again there.” She shook her head violently, her dark hair flying around her shoulders. “I will not let Damon control me or dictate where I live. And I’m not going to spend my life running away. This ends now, here, whatever it takes.”
    The stubborn set of her shoulders told him arguing that point wasn’t going to make a difference. Truth be told, he’d rather she stayed here anyway—because that way he could help her.
    If she’d stop being stubborn long enough to realize she needed his help.
    â€œHow certain are you that the shooter was really Damon?”
    Her shoulders visibly relaxed, as if she were relieved that he wasn’t going to press her further about moving away. “As sure as I can be without getting a closer look at him, or seeing his face.” Her brow scrunched together as if she were concentrating, trying to remember the