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Fiona stares at me as though wantin to say somethin she can’t quite formulate. “Bo,” she says after a long pause, “I’m not moving into that house. I’ll never set foot in there again.”
“Well alright then. That’s an awful nice house, but I agree you shouldn’t,” I respond, resisting the temptation to express how proud I am of her resoluteness.
I wanna wrap up the details I mentioned earlier, about her comin to live with me, but I’m afraid of soundin too abrupt. I’ve learned to take baby steps with Fiona.
“Just tell me one thing,” she says, “You carried me out of that house and went back in for something, right?”
“Well yes, darlin. I went back in for your purse,” I reply, dismayed that she was sick enough to forget that detail.
“Oh yes, I remember. So…what did Quade say to you? How did he react to everything?”
“Well now that’s the weird thing, Fiona. When I went back up, he was still standin in that tiny little room. He hadn’t moved an inch and he looked like he was in a total state of shock.” Fiona’s lips spread into a grin at my answer. “And well, I guess he thought I was The Terminator or somethin. When I stepped back in through that wall panel, he started shakin and put his hands up like he was about to beg me to spare his life.” Fiona barks out a laugh and claps her hands. “It took me about two seconds to spot your purse, sittin just behind Quade on a desk back there. I walked straight toward him to fetch it and he looked like he was pissin himself, hands spread up in the air, head shakin back and forth. I believe the guy thought I was comin back up there to kill him…and that sure made me wonder what it is he was feelin so guilty about. I walked right up on him, reached past him to grab the purse, and then turned around and walked out while I was ahead. Cause I’ll tell you right now, my fist was all balled up ready to punch him one for good measure. I do not like the guy.”
Fiona seems beside herself with mirth, hands over her mouth tryin not to laugh…but she can’t control it.
“Now I’ve got a question for you, darlin,” I say, eager to run with the opportunity Fiona’s created. “Why in God’s name did Quade have you stashed away in an attic closet, too sick to even call home, instead of bringin you back here to your own bedroom? And why didn’t he call Holly? Levi called law enforcement with a missing person report last night…fat lot of good that did.”
Fiona’s face ripples through the full spectrum of petrified, to worried, to somethin surprisingly bordering on guilt. “Because Quade’s a total ass,” she finally blurts out, much to my satisfaction. “When I first started waking up, he told me he’d stashed me in that room because he didn’t want me to see the rest of the house without him.”
“So, let me get this straight…Quade left you, sick, in an empty house all by yourself?” I don’t know whether I’m more disgusted by his irresponsibility, or relieved that he didn’t spend the night in there with her.
“Well, he said he left in the morning to run some errands…I really don’t know Bo. I have no excuses for Quade at this point. I thought he was the best friend I’d ever had, but now I’d be happy to never hear his name again,” Fiona says, her voice cracking on that last syllable.
Her usual bitterness has lost its edge to a sorrow I can hardly fathom, the betrayal of a friend she was once married to. I hope she now realizes what a better place she’ll be in without Quade, a man whose total demeanor wreaks of a lack of integrity.
“Fiona, princess,” I say, scooping her back into my arms, “I know you’re your own person, and a very strong woman, but there ain’t anything you need to say about last night, is there?” She looks slightly affronted, as though being accused, so I decide to rephrase. “I mean, there wasn’t any harm that came to you…other than being sick, that Quade would have inflicted?”
“Bo, what are you implying?” she asks forwardly, but without hostility.
I decide to speak frankly. “I’m only implyin that it don’t look good to walk in on a man with a deliriously ill woman, in a room that’s damn near impossible to find, on a night when she never showed up home and nobody ever called to share the reason why. It looks incriminating, if you really wanna know.”
Fiona nods in agreement, offering no defense of Quade. “He absolutely should have called, but I wouldn’t worry about it. Quade’s ability to make decisions just gets switched into reverse around me anymore. He’ll choose the wrong thing to do, every time. I don’t know how to get him out of my life, but I’d walk away tomorrow if I could.”
“Well about what I said earlier—”
“Where is Holly? Is she home? I don’t even know what time it is. I really should talk to her,” Fiona cuts in before I can finish, in her usual goal-oriented manner.
I immediately sense that she’s put up her old familiar barrier, as though the past couple hours didn’t even happen. She’s selectively forgettin what I told her about comin to Florida, but she’s got all the time in the world. I’ve decided I’ll set up camp in Fairfield until she’s ready to leave with me. No way I would drive outta here after whatever went down last night. Fiona’s gotta make a decision, and I’m here to help her make the right one. Even if she rejects me in the end, I’ve gotta get her to examine the truth of her situation… from all sides.
Chapter 35
Fiona
In my immense struggle to keep from spilling the beans about my suspicions, I feel that I have to get out of Bo’s space for a while. Right now I want to collapse on his chest, pound my fists and scream. No, I do not believe I was compromised by my ex-husband last night, but yes…certainly his intentions were sordid. If I were to tell Bo I was roofied…he’d either dismember Quade beyond recognition, or be made to feel impotent when our local police laughs him out of their office. Neither is an outcome I’m willing to risk.
But the more clarity I get around last night, the more I recognize that Quade has a sick obsession with me. I’m certain he drugged me, then essentially caged me while trying to figure out how to undo our regrettable situation. And that room…in my new house? As a windowless and doorless room, it must have been something that was built into another storage type space…a preplanned area to hide or trap me inside. This had to have taken some serious forethought on Quade’s part.
I could go mad thinking about the level of sickness that would drive him to pursue something like that. Visions of being chopped to pieces flood my mind, as I quickly kiss Bo on the cheek and race downstairs to distract myself with Holly.
When I find her in the dining room, she rushes up from her mug of tea and embraces me like I’ve been gone a year. “Fifi, sweetie, how are you?” she asks. “You were so sick when Bo brought you home this morning…that must have been one awful headache. Did you sleep it all off up there?”
“Yes, somehow I did. It was something else.”
“Next time I see Quade I’m going to slap him across the face. I can’t believe he wouldn’t think to call and tell us what was going on.”
“Well you know, he insists that I’m an adult and shouldn’t need to check in with people. I tried to explain that after six months of sleeping here…you’d be a little concerned. But we didn’t even have that talk till this morning. I was out like a light last night.”
“Poor thing,” Holly says, pulling me in for another hug. “Can I make you tea?” she asks.
