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Both times, when she had cried in his arms, it had torn him to shreds. The first time, he hadn’t even realized he was crying himself until she wiped his face. It was such an alien sensation to him. If he wasn’t mistaken, the last time he had cried was when his father had slaughtered his pet pig. Reasonably, he now knew that the pig was never intended to be a pet, but he was only four at the time. It had been a crushing blow to a young boy.
Last night, when she wept, he’d felt absolutely powerless. He didn’t enjoy that. He would exhaust his resources making sure that Colette Moreau paid for her crimes. He wasn’t lying when he told Lilly that he protected what was his.
By mid-afternoon, Talan felt less rundown. He’d had an extra pint of blood, which certainly helped. He’d put in a call to Lachlan and Stefano, but had yet to hear back from either of them. Between the address records and the fact that Colette had admitted to being in Kansas at some point, he considered that conclusive proof. He worried that perhaps Lachlan or Stefano might blow him off.
He picked up his cell phone for the tenth time, concerned because Lilly hadn’t texted him yet. His chest ached, thinking of her in pain. He sat the phone down and tried to concentrate on work. When he couldn’t maintain focus, he gave up. Instead, he paced in his office until his phone rang. Striding toward the desk, he saw that it was Lachlan—finally. Christ.
Twenty minutes later, he set the phone back down on the desk. Lachlan hadn’t been much help, unfortunately. He’d been plenty angry on Lilly’s behalf and hadn’t for a moment doubted that Colette was capable of such a thing. That’s as far as it had gone though. As a corporate attorney, he’d had no recourse to start asking questions about a case that had already been solved in another country. Nor did he think that voice recognition alone would be enough to justify reopening a solved case.
Frustrated, he wiped a hand across his face and cursed. If he had to hire a lawyer in the US to look into the matter, he would. First, he would wait for Stefano to call him back though. Perhaps he would have better news. Perhaps not.
A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. He picked it up and read Lilly’s text. “I’m exhausted and I want to go home, but otherwise I’m okay.”
Frowning, he typed, “Take the night off. Sleep. Here or at home. It doesn’t matter, though I admit I have a preference.”
He could picture her reading and then giving him that same wan little smile she had mustered for him this morning. He hoped to God that he was able to help her find some sort of peace. He couldn’t bear to see her so broken. His beautiful, brave girl had fallen to pieces, and that destroyed him.
“I’m coming to work tonight. I’ll pack a bag and stay over if that’s okay. I’ve gotten kind of used to your terrible snoring.”
He felt the first genuine smile of the day dawn across his face as he responded, “I don’t snore. You, however...”
Seconds later he laughed when she asked, “OMG DO I REALLY?”
“No. I lied,” he typed back, laughing.
“Jerk.”
Still smirking he answered, “May I remind you that you actually started this? :)”
“So I did. And now I’ve gotta go shower before I come to work. See you soon.”
He felt like he was on much more solid ground as he typed, “Love you. See you l
ater.”
Well, she seemed in better spirits. He wondered, though, if he did actually snore…
***
Around ten in the evening, he was getting ready to leave the office when Gillian buzzed him and said, “I’ve got a Stefano Marchese to see you. He didn’t have an appointment, but he said it was urgent.”
Talan frowned at the intercom, then pressed the button and said, “Send him back. Thank you.”
Stefano ran in some of the same circles he did, but he wouldn’t really consider him a close friend. He was rather confused as to why he’d be paying him a personal visit. He waited for the knock on his office door.
“Come in,” Talan called, standing to greet him.
A contrite look on his face, Stefano said, “I got your message, and I was in the area anyway. I wanted to talk to you about the other night. I’m incredibly sorry about Colette.”
He waved a hand at the apology and said, “That’s not your fault. Have a seat. Did you want a drink or...”
“No, no,” Stefano said. “I’m fine. You sounded a little upset when you called. Is everything okay?”
He took a deep breath and admitted, “No. Not in the least. I have a story I’d like to run by you if I could.”
With as little emotion as he could manage, he relayed the details of Lilly’s family being murdered, the subsequent dreams, the laugh, the research, and everything that had taken place. Then he waited.
Stefano sat there, taking it all in for a few moments before he finally spoke. “Are you quite certain that it’s her?” he asked, his face filled with equal parts fear and disgust.
