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“I’m accomplishing a lot more on my cases, in less time, because of you,” she finished.
“Speaking of which, what’s the latest on Wakerby? Have they indicted him?”
“For rape, yes. Not for murder yet.”
Beyond that she couldn’t think about the man any more that night. She needed daylight.
“I received an invitation to Emma Sanderson’s wedding today.” Why was she doing this? Clearly Ramsey Miller wanted nothing personal between them.
She wouldn’t, either, once the night was done and she was in her right mind again.
In complete control again.
The thought had Lucy sitting straight up in bed.
Somehow Sloan Wakerby had taken away her sense of control. And she hadn’t seen it coming.
Damn him.
“Did you get an invitation, too?”
“Maybe. There was an envelope with Emma Sanderson’s return address. I didn’t open it yet.”
After contacting Cal Whittier regarding Claire Sanderson’s missing evidence box—and ultimately finding Jack Colton— Ramsey had contacted the second person with evidence in that box, Emma Sanderson.
Emma was four when her little sister was abducted. And her life, like Lucy’s, had been abnormal ever since.
Ramsey had reported the missing evidence, interviewed Emma regarding anything she might know about anyone who might have stolen the evidence and then asked Emma to bring in some of Claire’s belongings so that the lab could try to extract some of Claire’s DNA to either identify her or rule her out as one of Walters’s victims. Ramsey was determined to have the man tried for every single child he’d hurt. Lucy figured Ramsey wasn’t going to rest until Peter Walters was put to death.
Emma wanted answers about her sister. She wanted closure. She’d agreed to Ramsey’s request for Claire’s belongings.
And because of a similarity in Lucy’s and Emma’s situations, Ramsey had asked Lucy to fly in for the meeting with Emma.
Ramsey had been thinking of the case. Of making Emma comfortable so she’d talk. Of using Lucy’s interrogation and listening skills to get answers they didn’t yet have.
And, in Emma, Lucy had found another kindred spirit. Which meant two in one year. And two in a lifetime.
“I sent my RSVP back this morning.” She was going to wear the little black dress.
And she wanted him to see her in it.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Thanksgiving weekend.” Three weeks away. “On a boat at the fishing docks in Comfort Cove.”
“I don’t do weddings.”
“I’m going.”
“You’ll be flying in?”
“Yeah. I’d love to have someone there I know.?
? And to dance with him.
“I’ll probably be working.”
“We could compare notes over a toast.”
