Текст книги "I'll Never Let You Go"

Автор книги: Mary Burton

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Deke ignored the comment. “We have a few questions.”

Ray moved into a side parlor decorated in deep purples and with pictures of dragons and wizards. In a large stone hearth, a fire blazed. Ray sat on a large, plush chair, resting his arms along the back. “What brings you out here today? It’s an unexpected surprise.”

“Just came to ask you about Sunday.”

“What about it?” He looked amused by the question as he relaxed back in his seat.

“Where were you?”

Ray laughed as he jerked up his pant leg. The thick tracking device was strapped to his ankle. “Church.”

“And after church?”

“Pull up the data on my bracelet.”

“I’m asking you.”

“I was here.”

“Mind if Agent Morgan checks your anklet?”

“Have at it.” Ray wiggled his toes but didn’t bother to rise.

Alex shook his head. “Stand up. Put your foot up on a chair.”

Ray grinned. “Don’t want to kneel before the dragon lord?”

Alex’s expression remained stoic.

With a shrug, Ray rose from the chair, settled his foot on an ottoman, and lifted his silk pants leg. Alex moved forward and inspected the monitoring device. “It looks intact.” He stepped back. “No signs of tampering.”

“Mind telling me why you’re checking?” Ray settled back against the chair cushions.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend, Ray? I think her name is Kendra?” Deke asked.

Eyes darkened with suspicion. “Kendra. Why do you want to know about Kendra?”

“Where is she?”

“New York. Shopping for my birthday present.” He rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing with a portion of an elaborate tiger tattoo. “No, wait. She’s in protective custody. That cop got her and she flipped on me.”

“Funny you should mention that detective. She was killed Sunday.”

Ray tsked as he glanced at buffed fingernails. “Damn, that’s too bad. What was her name again?”

“Deidre Jones. From what I hear, Deidre got Kendra to wear a wire. Those tapes are what got you in trouble.”

A smile quirked his lips. “My lawyer isn’t so sure about that. This case is no slam dunk for the cops.”

“That’s not what I heard. I also heard you were pissed and threatened to kill Detective Jones and anyone who talked to her.”

“I don’t recall anything like that.” Ray’s smile widened and a gold tooth flashed. “And last I heard, Kendra is alive and well. Besides, I have no hard feelings for Kendra.” He touched his fingertips to his breastbone. “I love her.”

Deke shook his head. “Kendra’s lucky a guy like you is so forgiving.”

“That’s what I told her,” Ray said.

“You forgive the cop that got her to wear the wire?”

Dark eyes glinted before he smiled. “Deidre Jones is nothing to me.”

“If we can believe that anklet, you didn’t kill her, but maybe you sent someone to do your dirty work. Maybe you told your guy to mess her up bad . . . send a message to Kendra.”

“I don’t care about a damn detective. And Kendra and I’ve gone our separate ways. Alive or dead, she makes no difference to me. You said she was messed up. How was it done? How was she killed?”

Deke’s tone deepened. “Stabbed.”

Ray shook his head. “That’s got to hurt. Hell of a way to go.”

Alex kept his voice low, even. “You like knives, don’t you, Ray?”

He nodded, shrugged. “I do like them. But I didn’t kill your detective. And I don’t know who did.”

Deke’s headlights shone bright on the rental car parked in the lot by the running trail. He pulled up beside the four door and checked his watch. “Hell of a place and time to meet.”

“She and Deidre talked about this place. She knew Deidre loved it here. She wanted to see it and I didn’t want another night to pass without talking to her.”

Deke pointed toward a bench where a lone woman sat, staring at the park. “Deidre’s sister, Joy?”

“That would be my guess.”

Neither liked rehashing the details of the detective’s death, and interviewing loved ones who’d lost family always left a sour taste. “Let’s do this.”

They found Joy Martin sitting on the bench, her hands resting in her lap as she stared down the path. It was as if she were trying to picture Deidre’s last steps on the path. She wore a midweight overcoat suitable for California but not nearly adequate for the cold nights here. Long hair draped her narrow shoulders. Silver rings decorated long fingers. She tapped a nervous high-heeled foot.

Alex pulled his badge from his pocket. “Ms. Martin.”

Joy looked up with brittle green eyes that reminded him of Deidre. “You must be Agent Morgan.”

He tucked the badge back in his breast pocket. “Yes, ma’am. We spoke on the phone. This is Detective Deke Morgan. He’s with Nashville Homicide.”

“Two Morgans?”

“We’re brothers, ma’am.”

“Ah.” Nodding, she turned her gaze back to the woods. “She mentioned you both a few times. Frankly, I don’t think she liked either of you.”

“I’m not the most likable guy,” Alex said. “And neither is Deke.” He kept his tone soft.

Deke nodded. “We won’t win any popularity contests.”

Joy looked up at Deke, a wistful expression in her gaze. “She said you were one of the best detectives she ever worked with. She respected you.”

He moved toward the bench but didn’t sit, as if he were breaching a hallowed space. “I’m trying to find out what happened.” He avoided using the words killed or died. The words triggered hard emotions that muddied clear thinking.

She rose and stood almost as tall as Deidre. Her shoulders weren’t as wide, but her body was equally lean. “You know she was getting a divorce.”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t friendly.” She slid her hands into her pockets. “Tyler didn’t want to let go.”

“She didn’t talk about her personal life. But I’ve since learned the divorce was rough.”

“No, she wouldn’t want anyone at the office to know. She loved her job and never wanted anything to tarnish her reputation.” She turned from the path in the woods. “She was dating again. A guy named David. I met David once. Struck me as lots of fun and no substance, but a step up from Tyler.”

“I understand you and Tyler weren’t close.”

“No, we’re not. In fact, Deidre and I had grown distant because of him. I don’t like him. She was too good for him. It was only after they separated that we reconnected.”

“Anything unusual going on with your sister that you know of?”

She twisted a silver ring on her index finger. “She was really rattled the last time we spoke. I asked her what was going on, but she wouldn’t tell me. Said it had to do with a case.”

“She mention anything about the case?” Deke asked.

“She just said she’d made a mistake and now she was going to have to fix the problem so that she could move on with her life.”

“A mistake?” Alex asked. Sins of the past; David’s words echoed.

The sister nodded. Tears filled her eyes and a few escaped down her cheek. She swiped them away. “I think it had to do with me.”

“You?”

“I got into trouble five years ago, when I was in college in Nashville. I was arrested for dealing. I was holding a lot when they caught me. Enough that I faced felony charges. I was in a panic. The arresting officer told me I could go to prison for twenty years. I called my sister as soon as they offered me a phone. Deidre had just made detective in Vice.”

Good cops went bad for a lot of reasons. Sometimes it was money or greed. Sometimes the motivations were cold and calculating. “You told Deidre about the dealing?”

“Yes. I told her I was scared. I told her the local cops had evidence that would put me away for years. I cried. Deidre didn’t say anything for a long, long time. She then asked if I’d be willing to go to rehab if she helped me.”

“Did you agree?” Alex asked.

“I swore I would. Of course I’d sworn before, but in that moment, I really meant it.”

Tension banded in Alex’s chest as he wondered what he’d do to help a sibling.

“Deidre said she would help me. She asked for the arresting officer’s name. And I gave it to her.”

“What happened?”

Joy threaded her fingers together. “She told me to sit tight. She’d call me soon.”

“And she came through?” Alex asked.

“Yeah. She came through. About five hours later, she told me the evidence was gone. I was free. She drove me straight to rehab and I stayed for sixty days.” She raised her chin. “I haven’t used since.”

“Why do you think this relates to her death?” Deke asked.

“Like I said, Deidre was upset when we were talking on the phone. She was actually afraid of a past mistake. I asked her about it, and when she wouldn’t answer, I knew it had to do with my arrest. She was so by the book. She wouldn’t have bent the rules, except for me.”

“And she told you she was going to fix this problem?” Alex asked.

“Yes. I asked Deidre how, but she told me not to worry about it. I asked her if there were anything I could do, and she said she’d figure it out. Said not to worry. She was gonna kill two birds with one stone. Said not to worry.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did. I might have been able to save her.” She glanced toward the park, as if wondering where her sister would be if she’d taken a different path.

Did it all go back to Joy’s case and the missing evidence? “Do you remember the name of the arresting officer?”

“Yeah. I’ll never forget it. Philip Latimer.”

Alex had returned to his office immediately and done a search on Philip Latimer. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Latimer had been married to Leah, and Deidre had sought Leah out. Pieces of the puzzle didn’t quite connect, but they had moved closer.

It didn’t take much digging for Latimer’s name to pop. He’d been a cop in Nashville for eight years, and he’d served with distinction. He’d also been disciplined after his estranged wife had filed stalking charges against him. According to statements, Latimer had sworn he’d lay off the wife. Tensions had appeared to ease, and then Latimer had broken into his wife’s apartment and tried to stab her to death. He’d eluded the cops and gotten out of Tennessee. He’d died in a car accident three weeks later in South Carolina.

How had Latimer gotten out of town? Did he have help?

Deidre had said she’d clean up her sister’s legal mess. Had she’d figured she’d approach Latimer and ask for a favor?

Alex had no proof that Deidre had ever contacted Latimer, but a connection was logical. Another puzzle piece.

Several calls to the Nashville Police Department earned him the files that detailed Leah’s stabbing. Within an hour, he was staring at the graphic images of her bedroom sprayed bright red with her blood. It could have been Deidre’s crime scene.

Leah. Nervous around people. No damn wonder.

He had seen his share of Philip Latimers in the world. Fucked-up bullies who preyed on the vulnerable. Manipulation began with guilt, then harsh words, physical abuse and, all too often, murder.

He was sorry the guy had died in the car accident. It would have been a pleasure to deal with him personally.

He dialed dispatch and left word for the officer who’d responded to Leah’s attack to call back. He wanted to talk. An hour later, Alex’s phone rang.

“Officer Boyle,” Alex said. He reached across his desk and pulled over a legal-size pad for notes. “What can you tell me about the Leah Carson Latimer case? It was a domestic violence attack. Four years ago. The attacker was a Nashville cop. Philip Latimer.”

“Shit. That was a long time ago, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” He sighed. “The husband worked for the county as a patrol officer. I even crossed paths with him a few times. Seemed like a good guy.”

“When did the stalking start?”

“Right after they separated.”

“According to her complaints, it was unrelenting.”

“It was. And she filed for a restraining order against him. Of course we’d been notified, but when Latimer’s boss talked to him, he swore he’d back off. And he did for a few days.” Another sigh full of regrets. “We shouldn’t have believed him. She’d made such a good case with her journaling. Great eye for detail. Never had a victim keep such detailed records.” A chair squeaked in the background, as if he leaned back. “I heard Latimer died in a car accident.”

“That’s what his wife told me.”

“So why the call?”

“His name came up in another case. Apparently, he crossed paths with Deidre Jones a few years ago.”

“The detective who was stabbed?”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Like I said, he’s dead.”

“Did Latimer have any friends or family that would have resented Leah Carson for filing charges?”

“There were some officers in his department who didn’t believe her. Latimer did a good job of painting her as hysterical and unstable. But when he stabbed her, well, there was little to argue. All his support was immediately withdrawn after that.”

“You sure he didn’t have any faithful followers?”

“None that hit my radar. I can ask around. Where’s Leah Latimer—I mean, Carson?”

“She’s back in Nashville. Works as a vet.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s doing well.”

A heavy silence lingered. “That’s good. She was a mess after the attack. Hell of a lot of rehab. But from what I heard, she was pretty determined to get on with her life.”

He thought about her running through the park in the early morning rain. One foot in front of the other. “Is there anyone who knew her then that I could talk to? Anyone who would have known her or Philip during that time?”

“You’ve got my files. I don’t remember names, but there was an adviser at school who went out of her way to help her.”

Alex rustled through the case file. “Dr. Susan Miller was her adviser. That her?”

“She’s the one. Give her a call.”

Alex hung up and dialed Dr. Miller’s cell. On the third ring, there was a breathless, “Hello.”

“Dr. Miller?”

“Yes.”

“This is Agent Alex Morgan with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation.”

“It’s after ten, Agent Morgan.”

“I’m sorry for the late hour.” He explained the reason for the call.

“Leah Carson.” In the background, he could hear pots and pans rattling and water running. The water turned off and the pots stilled. “She was one of my favorite students. Smart. Great with animals. Is this about her ex-husband?”

“Yes.”

“Why’re you asking? God, he made her life awful. I hope he’s burning in hell.”

Fury had him sitting straighter. “What was she like before the troubles?”

“Lots of fun, outgoing. She had to delay leaving for Knoxville for a year so she took a couple of courses here. After the attack, she changed. Became very guarded and withdrawn. But you have to understand, she endured a brutal attack. Post-traumatic stress would be a normal reaction.”

“She still has scars. Keeps her journal.”

She released a weary sigh. “I went to see her in the hospital after the attack. The plastic surgeon did a great job stitching her up, but she still looked like Frankenstein.”

Alex shifted in his seat, trying to connect the woman he’d met a week ago with the woman who’d been so brutally attacked. He’d thought her odd initially, aloof and standoffish. Now, when he considered the attack, he had nothing but pure respect for her.

“During that last summer school session, after the attack, a boy in class who didn’t know her history jumped out and surprised her. She grabbed her textbook and hit him hard in the face. She would have hit him a second time but he fell to the floor.”

A smile flickered. “Did he file charges?”

“Not after I explained her history. But he walked one hell of a wide circle around her after that.”

“Any other incidents?”

“Not that I saw.”

“Thanks, Dr. Miller. I appreciate the insight.”

Alex hung up and immediately dialed a contact in South Carolina.

Chapter Thirteen

Thursday, January 19, 9 A.M.

He arrived at the humane society kennel just as it was opening. The mornings, he learned, could be chaotic there. Dogs being dropped off. Dogs needing feeding and walking. Deliveries. It was a busy time.

He pushed through the front door, wrinkling his nose at the smell of animal urine. Dogs weren’t his favorite. They were demanding emotionally and needed lots of care. Cats were more to his taste. They took care of themselves and didn’t need constant attention. His wife had always wanted a black Lab and had mentioned it when they’d been together. Of course with their busy lives, there hadn’t been time for a dog so he’d refused to allow one.

That had been a mistake. Maybe if he’d said yes to the dog, she’d have been happier, wouldn’t have been so discontented. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

The lady behind the counter looked up through horn-rimmed glasses. A rubber band bound dark graying hair in a loose ponytail that allowed wisps of hair to frame a very round face.

“I’d like to look at the dogs,” he said. “My wife wants a black Lab.”

The woman rose, revealing a blousy peasant top worn over faded jeans that covered a very wide set of hips. He wasn’t a fan of overweight figures, and when his wife splurged on ice cream or chocolate, he was always quick to joke about her clothes getting too tight. He’d never teased her out of meanness. He’d only reminded her of what she ate because he knew she was aware of her figure and would have been upset if she’d put on a few pounds.

“You specifically want a black Lab?”

He smiled. “Well, that’s the kind of dog she always talked about. She likes to take walks, and I know Labs need a lot of exercise.” He extended his hand. “My name is Brian Lawrence.”

“Hey, Brian. My name is Betty. I’m the morning manager.”

He glanced at the clock. “I know you just opened. I bet you haven’t had your coffee yet.”

“I’ll delay the coffee for a dog.”

He rubbed his hands together. “So what do I need to do?”

“Let’s have a look at the dogs, and if you see one that might work in your family, we’ll talk about the paperwork.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He followed her down a tiled hallway. Green hospital walls were covered in a collection of photographs featuring all kinds of dogs and cats. A Lab shepherd mix. A dachshund mix. A tabby cat with a bent ear. A collection of white furry puppies. Happy and upbeat, they made him feel better about his decision to get a dog. He imagined the look on his wife’s face when he surprised her with the dog.

Betty pushed through a swinging door and they entered a long room lined with cages on the right and left. Barking dogs and meowing cats filled the sterile room. The floor was tile, easily hosed down, and the walls were painted a mint green. The animal smell was strong.

“So you only want a Lab? Because we have some very cute animals here today. We don’t have a Lab, but you might be surprised by the friendly dogs we do have.”

He nearly refused, but then reminded himself that he needed to be more flexible. More open-minded. She would’ve loved any dog. Any animal. “Let’s see what you have.”

As they moved down the row of cages, Betty paused and spoke lovingly to the dogs. Most rushed to the front of the cage and licked her fingertips, eager for her attention. He smiled at the animals, but his smile wasn’t genuine. He found the dogs, especially the puppies, to be a bit annoying and dreaded the idea of coming home to one each day. Still, he kept smiling, even petted a couple of animals so Betty wouldn’t think him odd. He was supposed to be an animal lover.

Finally, at the end of the row, he spotted a medium-sized black dog. It didn’t rush to the front of the cage but didn’t cower in the corner either. It eyed him with an all-seeing gaze that made him stop. He sensed, as the creature looked at him, that it knew his secrets, knew he’d done bad things.

“You like this one?” Betty asked.

He tore his gaze from the dog. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Are you interested in adoption?”

“I think so.” He turned away from the cage.

“It’s a female. Her name is Charlie. She’s nine months old but still needs to be spayed.”

“Okay. What does that mean?”

“The Nelson Animal Hospital does our spaying for us. We would drop her off there, and once the surgery is done and she’s had time to recover, you could pick her up.”

“The Nelson Animal Hospital?”

“It’s run by a nice guy and his new associate, Dr. Carson, who’s a real charmer.”

“Okay. You said something about paperwork?”

“Right out front.”

He glanced back at Charlie. She stared at him with those guarded brown eyes, and he found himself growing leery of the animal. She wasn’t dumb. She didn’t rush up to anyone. She was selective. He knelt down and extended his fingers through the cage. Slowly, she approached and licked his fingers.

He smiled. “I think she likes me. Can I hold her?”

“Sure.”

Betty unlatched the cage and allowed the dog out. She moved toward Brian and allowed him to pet her. She ducked her head and wagged her tail before slowly moving closer.

“She trusts me.”

“She’s a slow one to warm up. I suspect she’ll be a one-owner dog. Very loyal.”

He scratched the mutt between the ears. “I like that.”

Out front, the bells on the door rang, signaling that someone else had entered the shelter. Betty frowned. “I need to check on that.”

“Go ahead. Charlie and I are just spending a little quality time together.”

“I can’t leave you alone with the dogs.”

Voices out front grew louder. “Sounds like you might have trouble.”

Betty glanced between the front door and him, as if making a decision. He grinned. She smiled back. “I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll be waiting.” He rubbed Charlie between the ears. “We’ll be waiting, won’t we, girl?”

Betty hurried up front, and as she vanished around the corner his gaze faded. “Charlie, I don’t know about you, but I want out of this place.” Ears back, she licked his face.

He glanced to the back of the hallway and the emergency exit. “What say we get the hell out of here?”

He could hear Betty’s voice rising, as did the other two voices. “Don’t worry about that. I paid those guys making the noise to make a fuss. We don’t need anyone telling us when you can leave with me.”

He picked up the dog, which tucked nicely under his arm, and strode toward the back door. No alarm sounded as he opened the door and moved at a steady, even pace, all the while scratching Charlie’s head. She was wagging her tail by the time they got to his truck. He settled her on blankets he’d arranged on the front passenger seat and quickly started the car. He drove off, glancing in his rearview mirror and catching the reflection of Betty standing at the emergency door, searching for them.

He started to whistle. “I can’t wait for you to meet Leah. She’s gonna love you.”

Charlie looked up at him and wagged her tail. Her pure love and devotion bolstered him like a tonic. “You’re a good girl. And I like you.”

She wagged her tail.

“But you’ve got a job to do, little lady. You’ve got to make Leah fall in love with you.”

She barked, with excitement.

“She’s gotta fall for you, hook, line, and sinker and when she does, then I’m gonna test that love, use that love.” Gently, he rubbed her between the ears, and when he spoke, his tone was gentle. “I’m counting on the fact that she’ll crumble when she sees me holding a knife to your throat.”

The dog edged closer to him, and he allowed her to sit beside him. “Yes, ma’am, you’re gonna work out just fine.”

It took a few phone calls to track down the man who’d last worked with Latimer as a partner. Gary Gilbert was a uniformed officer who, today, had been assigned the East Nashville beat. Alex called his sergeant and arranged to meet the officer in a coffee shop.

When Alex arrived, the officer was sitting in his car outside the shop, the motor running. When he saw Alex he frowned, shut off the engine, and got out.

Alex extended his hand to the man, who reluctantly took it. “Officer Gilbert.”

“Agent Morgan.” Gilbert appeared to be in his late twenties. His build was slim and his hair dark, but his eyes held the wariness of a man who’d seen more than most. “I understand you have questions about Philip Latimer.”

“That’s correct. I was told you were his last partner before he tried to kill his wife.”

Gilbert rested his hands on his hips. “That’s right.”

“What can you tell me about the man?”

“I was a rookie when I was partnered with him. He was good to me.”

“I’m more concerned with how he treated his wife.” Experience kept his tone neutral.

As Gilbert shifted, the leather of his gun belt creaked. “He loved her.”

Alex dropped his voice a notch as he clung to the reins of his anger. “He stabbed her twenty-three times. If you’ve never seen the crime scene photos, I’d be glad to share.”

Gilbert paled. “That’s not necessary.”

“Tell me about Latimer.”

The officer glanced from side to side, clearly wrestling with loyalty to a fellow officer and what needed to be said. “After she left him, he couldn’t stop talking about her. He became obsessed.”

“He stalked her.”

“He never talked about that stuff in front of me, but there were plenty of times he’d call her while we were on a lunch or dinner break. His messages never sounded threatening.”

“What would he say to her?”

“That he was thinking about her. That he loved her.”

“Did you know what he was planning?”

“Shit no.” The words blasted out, as if fired from a gun.

“He gave me the impression they were gonna renew their vows on their anniversary.” He shook his head. “He told me they had a special date planned. He took the night off. Was excited.” The officer met Alex’s gaze, all traces of annoyance gone. “If I’d have known what he was planning, I would have reported him. I met his wife a couple of times, and I liked her. She was nice. How’s she doing?”

“Remarkably well. She’s a vet now.”

That prompted a smile. “She was planning to go to school before he attacked her. I never heard. Glad to know she’s doing well.” He tapped an index finger on his belt. “Why all these questions after all this time? Latimer died in a car accident.”

“That’s what the reports say.”

“What’s that mean?”

“He was a smart guy, from what I’ve gathered.”

“Yeah, real smart.”

“Could he have faked his death?”

Nervous laughter burst from Gilbert. “Yeah, I suppose. Do you think he’s still alive?”

“I have no idea.” He relaxed his stance, shrugging as if he’d tossed a Hail Mary pass. “Just following up on a longshot, crazy idea. I follow all the leads, even the odd ones.”

Gilbert adjusted his hat. “I attended his funeral. A lot of cops did. We all agreed he’d lost his shit that night when he went after his wife, but he’d been a good cop. He’d saved a couple of guys, made clean busts, was well respected on the streets.”

“I never questioned his work as a cop. It was exemplary until his commander threatened him with suspension after Leah Carson filed the restraining order. I’m here about the man, the husband.”

A cold wind blew, making the officer turn away from the chill. “He didn’t have much family. A grandmother and a cousin, and there was Leah and the force. Losing either Leah or both would have been a hell of a blow.”

“And he’d have done anything to keep both.”

After a wary hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah.”

When Leah got out of surgery it was late in the day, and her back ached. It had been a tough surgery she’d assisted with Dr. Nelson. She checked her phone and noted a missed call and voice mail from Alex. She hit Play as she stretched backward and forward. “Leah, I want to talk to you about the case. I have more questions.”

She lowered the phone from her ear and hit Redial, quickly finding herself in his voice mail. “Alex, returning your call. Leah.”

“So, what’re your plans for tonight?” Gail asked.

“After we close up here, I’m headed home. Hot bath.”

“Ordering in?”

“No. I’m not a fan of takeout.”

Gail laughed. “Good Lord, why? I would have starved to death years ago if not for the pizza place near me.”

“I like to cook.” Sort of true, but she really didn’t like having delivery people showing up at her front door. Even if she were expecting them, they were strangers, wearing uniforms and ball caps that hid their faces too easily.

“What’re you cooking?”

“I went to the market on Sunday. I’ll likely make a minestrone soup.” She fished her phone out of her purse and saw that David had texted. WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU. DINNER?

“That isn’t a happy expression,” Gail said.

“Guy I know from a running group wants to talk to me.”

“Think he’s the one who sent the flowers? Maybe his card really meant happy one-month anniversary in the group.”

“No. He didn’t send the flowers. We both knew Deidre, but other than that we’re just acquaintances.”

“You don’t think those flowers are romantic? They were expensive. A guy really likes a girl when he’s willing to spend money on her.”

“I think sending flowers and not signing the card is creepy.” Once, Philip had left a single rose on the driver’s seat of her car. She’d always locked the car, and the flower was his way of telling her he could get to her anytime.

“You gonna text him back?”

“Of course.”

Her fingertips hesitated over the cell phone keys.

“Just say you have surgery tonight.”

Tempted. “What about tomorrow?”

“You’ll be busy then, too. It happens a few times, he’ll get the message to back off.”

“Assuming he’s the kind of guy who operates under normal boundaries.”

Gail cocked her head. “Sounds like experience talking. Your late husband wasn’t a nice guy?”

Leah sighed. “He wasn’t, but you’d never have known it when you first met him. So charming. And then it was either full-on romance or anger. Little in between.”

“Was it terrible for you?”

“For a while it was.” She shook off the fear. “But I’m not worried about that now.” Absently, Leah tugged the edges of her coat over her scars.

“I see you day in and day out. Most days you do a good job of hiding them.” Gail frowned. “Did he attack you?”

Shame warmed her face with a flush of color. As kind as Gail had been to her since she’d arrived, she couldn’t bring herself to explain her tale.

“I see the scars.”

She’d kept the past locked in a box for four years. At times, the past banged and clanged against the box’s restraints, as if it were a wild animal. But she’d always kept it contained. Now, after all that fighting, she simply lifted the lid and set it free. “He stabbed me twenty-three times.”

“My God, I remember that case. It was in the news.”

“Thankfully, the media dropped it quickly.” Color rose in Leah’s face as embarrassment flooded her. How could she have been so fooled by a monster?

“It’s okay, honey,” Gail said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’ve got a big mouth and I can put my nose into business that isn’t mine.”

“It’s fine. It’s the past. My husband died in a car accident shortly after the attack. It’s over.” She glanced down at the phone. She wasn’t going to lie to David. She texted back, I CAN MEET FOR COFFEE IN AN HOUR. She hit Send. “See you tomorrow, Gail.”