But my choice does the trick. I can almost hear Alex’s wince. “Very well. I suppose I can go one night. But I’ll miss you.”
He’llwhat?
“Do some work?” I suggest dryly. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“I can’twork. Not without knowing you’re home, and safe.”
That’s so unlike him and I almost pull the phone from my ear and check I’m speaking to the right person. It’s his voice, just not his words.
“Uh… that’s sweet.” It kind of is, actually, even if I don’t believe he means it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Which gives me a day to think up another excuse.
“And I’ll spoil you rotten then. Call me if you need me?”
Whywould I need him?
“Sure. Good night.”
“Feel better.”
He ends the call, and I bite my lip and stare at my phone.
That was almost… normal. I hate that I want it to be.
Except nothing about Alexander Reyes is normal. We’re the only engaged couple in the world that don’t finish our phone calls with those three little words. And I don’t meanHappy Birthday, Vicky.
“Lucy’s replied,” Carol says, nodding toward my laptop.
I reach for it and spin it around, and her email is the top one.
Lunch tomorrow, she’ll be here.
Now I have to figure out what I’m going to tell her.
“You saw her?” Lucy asks, leaning forward on Carol’s sofa and gripping the edge of her cushion.
Carol sits in the armchair, sipping quietly at a cup of tea.
“I did,” I reply, my voice carefully neutral. “I was able to corroborate your assessment of her.”
“Corroborate my assessment?” Lucy echoes, looking at me with puzzlement.
“It means to confirm—”
“I knowwhat itmeans.” Her gaze sharpens. “You’re using formal, clinical language to takeemotionout, aren’t you? I’m not an idiot, Miss Callahan.”
I take a breath, glance at Carol, and nod. “My apologies,” I say in a more normal voice. “You didn’t deserve that. Let me try again.” I pause. “The news I have for you is not good. How blunt do you want it?”
“Blunt.” The word is steady, but her knuckles whiten where they grip her seat cushion.
“Very well. It's my opinion—I have no proof—that her husband severely restricts her movements. She cannot travel freely or see people without his permission. She appears to lead a very limited life and shows signs consistent with psychological abuse. When I suggested she spend time away from him, she reacted with fear and deep suspicion.” I hesitate, then plow on. “She… told me she ‘wasn’t trying to leaveanymore’ and that she wouldn’t consider going anywhere ‘without Lukas.’”
Lucy takes it quite well, all things considered. She leans back in her seat and lays her hands on her lap. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry the news wasn’t better.”
“No, but it’s… what I expected.” She purses her lips, looks down for a moment, then meets my gaze again. “And Van Wyk? Were you able to look into him?”
This is the part I was dreading.
