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Whatever this man’s deal is with Charlotte, it is far more than a case bungled up. I get a dangerous vibe from him, and my instincts scream at me to get Charlotte away from him.
The other detective glares at John.
“I think I can handle this one alone. Why don’t you go back to the precinct, John?”
The entire matter is sorted out within minutes, with John being forced to leave and Clarence handling the interview process. Charlotte looks much more relaxed but as I sit next to her, one hand on her leg, I am startled when she clasps it as the questions proceeded.
A glance at her face tells me she isn’t aware of it and it gives me hope.
“Is there anyone you know who would like to hurt you? Competitors? Gang members of that area?”
Gang members?
“What?” I break in. “What do you mean by gang members?”
Clarence blinks.
“Well, the bakery is located in Dark Silver territory. I thought you knew that. It’s a notorious gang that’s claimed that area.”
Charlotte shakes her head.
“They don’t bother with me. A few of them come in to make purchases and since they were on good terms with the previous owner, they leave me alone. Besides, attacking me in the middle of the night isn’t their style. They would much rather shoot me in public.”
My blood runs cold at how casually she describes all this, and it makes me realize that I took her words of her being different now, too lightly.
Murder investigations. Escaping the police. Gang members.
Charlotte’s life had changed so much. Not that it does anything to alter my decision.
No, I am more determined than ever to win her over.
The rest of the conversation is wrapped up quickly and I show Clarence out.
When I return, Charlotte is watching me warily.
I don’t say anything, just pick up her empty plate and put it in the dishwasher, before turning around.
“Come on. You need to lie down. Agatha will be here in an hour and she’ll chew me out if she finds you out of bed.”
Charlotte’s eyes widen and she follows me obediently, climbing into bed and not even protesting against me tucking her in.
“You’re not going to ask?” The words seem to be torn out of her, and I hesitate.
“I want to. And I will,” I tell her as I sit next to her. “I know you didn’t kill anybody. And I know that that detective scares you. I’m going to make sure he never comes near you again.”
When I stroke her hair away from her face, I can’t bear the look of confusion on her face at being cared for, so I lean down to press my lips against her forehead.
Turning around, I am about to leave, when I feel my shirt tug, and then she says, “When I came back from that party, after seeing you, I went home. Nick was there. With some men.”
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I have a bad feeling about this story, and I turn around but say nothing. She continues, not meeting my eyes, her right hand fisted on her lap.
“Nick had gambling debts. Lots of them. So, when he couldn’t meet them, he had made a deal with some of the loan sharks that instead of paying them money.” Charlotte’s face looks gray right now, and I want to stop her from saying the rest of the words, but I am unable to. “He sold me to them.”
I freeze, my mind not working. In my mind, all I see is one slip of a girl, barely into adulthood, in a room alone with grown men. I keep silent. She is still talking.
“I ran away. But I didn’t know where to go. I had no one. I couldn’t drag Agatha into it, and the situation with you – I couldn’t ask for your help, so I just ran.”
