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Olivia sat quietly mulling. She was caught on Henrietta fighting to get out of Mickey’s arms.
Why was Mickey trying to dognap Henrietta?
Thinking back to his begging phone call that she shouldn’t have answered, Olivia had to conclude that Mickey wanted to use Henrietta as a ploy—a lure—to get them in the same place for some reason.
He sounded desperate when he’d called earlier, begging to see her. Olivia had assumed he was panicking about the divorce being finalized. He had a whole future mapped out for himself – a financial future—and Olivia, the sole heir to her great aunt’s fortune, played a starring role in his aspired-to multi-million-dollar lifestyle. So yeah, he had an incentive to stop the divorce.
And he had tried to stop the divorce.
But after two years of stalling, they were days from their marriage finally being over.
That earlier sense of terror washed over Olivia again. She had been a criminal prosecutor for over a decade and knew the calculation. The only way that Mickey could keep the future millions was for Aunt Jo to die. Then, because of how the will was written, Mickey had to wait at least twenty-four hours after Aunt Jo’s death to kill Olivia, or the fortune would go to a woman’s shelter. If a double homicide was his plan, he had until Tuesday and court to make it happen. As a cop, Mickey knew how to get the job done. And he knew he might even be able to rely on the support of his fellow brothers in blue to make any evidence or investigation disappear.
But what explained Mickey’s face?
He looked like he might have finally run up against a criminal who could outfight him. But that couldn’t be right. When he changed his uniform, he would have at least washed his face, right?
Olivia grabbed her phone. Shooting a quick “excuse me” toward Covington, she dialed her Aunt Jo. She could hardly breathe as the phone sounded once, twice, three times, panic rose, four—
“Hello?”
“Oh! Thank goodness.” Olivia put a hand over her heart. “Are you okay?”
“I was just about to head to bed to read for a bit. This rain has made me feel creaky.”
“Aunt Jo, I need you to do me the biggest favor I’ve ever asked of you.” She moved her shaking hand to her forehead as she stood and pulled her shoulders back, trying to give her lungs more room to function.
“What is it that you need, Livy? You sound agitated. Is something going on?”
“Aunt Jo, I need you to listen to me. This is urgent. I’m afraid you’re in danger.”
“How—”
“I’m going to make a hotel reservation for you, Aunt Jo. And I’m going to send a taxi to your house. It will be there in about ten minutes. I need you to pack a bag fast. Just throw in your medications, computer and chargers, comfy clothes, and toiletries. Don’t overthink it. If you need anything, I’ll get it for you later.”
“Olivia—”
“I need you to stay at the hotel until my divorce is finalized next Wednesday. Okay?”
“Mickey?” Aunt Jo whispered.
“Is out of control. And I don’t know if he’s heading your way. Please only go out the door when the taxi shows up. You’re too far away for him to be to you yet. Just pack fast. And this is extremely important, Aunt Jo, you can tell your friends that you’re away, but for your safety and mine, that is all you can tell them.”
“Oh, dear.”
“The cab is coming,” Olivia could hardly push the words from her mouth. What if something happened to her beloved aunt? What if that something was caused by her marriage to Mickey?
“Yes. I need to dress then.” Her aunt’s voice warbled.
“Aunt Jo, I’ll take time to explain and apologize later. I’m hanging up now. I love you.”
As soon as Olivia tapped the button to end the call, she was scrolling for the name of the Philly hotel Jaylen had told her about, which was safe and comfortable with a good restaurant. She used a new credit card from a new bank to which Mickey had no connection. Then she pulled up the taxi app and sent a car heading to her aunt’s house—fifteen minutes. Thank goodness her aunt lived in Philly, which was a good two hours away from Alexandria.
With all that in motion, Olivia plopped back in her seat, sending a tight-lipped smile toward Covington.
“It sounded like you handled that well.” His southern drawl was warm and slow. It was a balm. Olivia bet he could lead the jury by the nose in a courtroom. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But thank you.”
