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“Is Dr. Carico coming today?”
Trey’s smile faded. “After lunch.”
They walked a few steps and Kelly said, “Jason is showing no signs of getting his memory back.”
“No, he’s not,” Trey agreed, his tone flat.
Sorry she’d mentioned what had to be foremost on his mind, Kelly looked away, and the beauty of Trey’s home slammed her in the face. Colorful tropical flowers, swaying palms and graceful structures surrounded her. She took a deep breath of clean, salty ocean air. If she listened hard, she could hear the crash of waves on the beach.
This place was like an artificially perfect amusement park. How long could the three of them continue to live in this fake bubble?
She wasn’t a mixed-up little boy’s mother, a woman who spent her days playing tennis or golf or whatever hoity-toity game.
Still, under the illusion—the delusion—his mother was alive, Jason was happy. Content. Kelly shook her head. She had grown very fond of the little prince. Too fond of him. And his father.
“It’s such a beautiful day,” Trey said. “I think I’ll ask Greta to serve lunch on the pool deck.”
“That’ll be nice,” Kelly said.
As long as she remained stuck in fantasyland, though, she intended to keep a close eye on Trey’s staff. She might not be a detective yet, but life with her junkie mother had taught her to know when people were up to something.
Her bet was on Hans or the lawyer.
* * *
TWO DAYS LATER, Trey followed Dr. Carico into his office and shut the door behind them. Her session with Jason was complete, and his son was now in the pool being watched by his new bodyguard and Maria.
“Can I get you anything, Donna?” Trey asked. “Coffee?”
“No, thank you, Trey. If you’re looking for an update on Jason’s condition, I’m afraid I don’t have any progress to report.”
“Please have a seat,” Trey said, indicating the chair across his desk. “Actually, this isn’t about Jason.”
Donna perched on the edge of the chair and crossed her legs. “No?”
“Well, I guess it is in a way, but this is more of a…personal matter.”
She smiled broadly, and the excitement dancing in her eyes clanged a warning bell for Trey. Donna was hoping to hear something from him. What? Had he given her the wrong impression?
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I need your advice,” he said cautiously.
“On a personal matter?” she asked, her voice light, teasing.
“Yes, and I’d like you to keep this confidential.” He leveled his gaze at her to judge her response.
“Of course.”
“I’ve received the background report from my investigator on Kelly.”
Her smile faltered. “So this is about Officer Jenkins?”
Trey nodded. “She was abused as a child. The abuser was her mother’s boyfriend. Her mom was a real piece of work and never did anything to protect her.”
Donna sat up straighter in the chair. “That’s very sad, although I’m not surprised.”
“You’re not?”
“I think it’s obvious Kelly is from a different class than you’re used to dealing with, Trey.”
He remained silent. Donna’s snobbery annoyed him, but he remembered similar thoughts filtering through his head when he’d first met Kelly. Before he knew her.
“Abuse doesn’t recognize class lines,” Trey said.
Donna’s lips thinned. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her tone no longer light.
“You’re a therapist.” He shrugged. “I wanted your input on how to talk to Kelly about her past.”
“Why in God’s name would you want to discuss her past abuse with Officer Jenkins?”
Trey didn’t answer. Why indeed? When Donna phrased it in those blunt words, he wondered why he’d even considered bringing up the subject with Kelly. Because he’d seen the burn mark on her chest?
Because he wanted to know everything about her.
Donna nodded and looked away. “I haven’t wanted to say anything, Trey, but this conversation has convinced me that we have a problem.”
“A problem? Has something changed with Jason?”
