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She was thinking about staying in bed all day when her cell phone rang. Afraid it might be Jonah—she definitely wasn’t ready to talk to him, not in this condition—she supported her pounding head with one hand while reaching for her phone.
She didn’t recognize the number.
Curious, she answered, and tried not to sound as under the weather as she felt. “Hello?”
“Francesca? This is Paris.”
Stifling a groan, Francesca managed to prop herself up. She couldn’t imagine why Paris would be calling her, but she wanted to find out. “What can I do for you?”
“Dean isn’t as innocent as he’d like you to believe,” she announced.
Had Elaine’s choice upset Paris enough that she was now willing to share details about her brother? Something that might break the case?
Regretting her alcohol binge even more, Francesca pressed two fingers to her temple. “Why do you say that?”
“He killed all those women in Dead Mule Canyon. I know he did.”
Fortunately, Francesca’s high level of interest helped override her physical distress. “How do you know?”
“I have proof.”
At this, Francesca scrambled off the bed. But she’d moved too quickly and her vision dimmed to black; she had to double over to avoid passing out. “What kind of proof?”
“I’ll show you. Can you meet me?”
“Where?”
“Halfway?
“You mean somewhere along Interstate 10?”
“No. Dean might be coming to look for me.”
Taking a deep breath, she slowly stood. “In what car?”
“He takes my parents’ sometimes.”
“But what are the chances he’d find you on such a busy thoroughfare?”
“I don’t want to risk it. Now that I’ve got what I got, I’m scared of him. I’d rather he didn’t know we’ve talked. He’ll tell my parents, and they may not like it. They’ve protected him his whole life.”
What had she discovered? Physical evidence? “Where, then?”
“I was thinking Wickenburg.”
Francesca had never been to Wickenburg, but she’d lived in Arizona long enough to know it was an old mining town. They wouldn’t have much trouble meeting each other in such a small place. “Fine. Is there a Starbucks?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll call you once I arrive. Then we can pick a more specific location. Are you bringing that guy with you? What’s his name?”
“Jonah? No. Do you want me to?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. This isn’t easy for me. Dean’s my brother, after all. It’s not like I want a big audience.”
“I understand.”
“See you soon.”
“I’ll be there.” Tossing her phone aside, Francesca dragged herself to the kitchen, where she downed a couple of painkillers before heading to the bathroom. Once she was out of the shower and dressed, she considered calling Jonah or Finch to let them know about this latest development. But after the way she’d behaved last night she was reluctant to speak to Jonah. It was probably her turn to apologize. And she was afraid calling Finch would blow her rendezvous with Paris. He might mention it to Hunsacker, who’d could pass the information on to Butch, who could act to squash the idea. There was no way he’d want to help her.
