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I looked at Talon. “We need to get a system installed at her home. Pronto.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“Then you’re not going to let me go?”
Talon shook his head. “No. But we are going to ask you a lot more questions about this. Can you deal with that?”
She hiccupped again as she nodded.
“I have some private investigators working on this. I’m going to have them question you. Perhaps the police also. This is important, Felicia. Do you understand that?”
She nodded, still sobbing. I got up and grabbed the box of tissues from the counter and set it down in front of her. She took three and blew her nose.
“Do you understand?” Talon said again.
“Tal…” I began.
“Joe, look, this is serious. She might have information that can lead us to the perpetrator.”
“Yes, she might, but right now, hounding her isn’t going to get you anywhere. She’s not in any condition for it.” I secretly hoped he wouldn’t bring up the DNA test right now. I wasn’t sure Felicia could handle it.
My phone buzzed again. Goddamnit, another fucking text from Brooke. Just what I didn’t need at the moment. She was supposed to be out there talking to Melanie, and she’s fucking texting? I set my phone down harshly on the table.
“Anything wrong?” Talon asked.
“No.” I turned to Felicia. “You need to get hold of yourself. Pull yourself together. We’re not going to let you go, but if anything like this ever happens again, you need to come to us.”
“Yes, of course. But he threatened me and my parents. Said if I said a word to you—”
I stopped her with a gesture. “We know what he said. But you need to trust us if something like this ever happens again. You need to trust us to protect you. We will protect you.”
And for the first time in twenty-five years, I actually felt like I could protect someone I cared about.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, pocketing my phone, “I need to
have a word with the ladies outside.”
Chapter Twenty–Six
Melanie
Conversation with Brooke had grown stale. The only thing she wanted to talk about was her glory days of modeling, so I let her talk. I had nothing to say to her anyway.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Jonah walked out the sliding doors onto the deck. Thank God. I hoped they were done with Felicia and that we could go home. I smiled to myself. I was thinking of Jonah’s home as my home.
When I looked up at him, his facial features were tense, his gorgeous full lips set in a line.
“Jonah?” I said tentatively.
He softened. “Hey, sweetheart. Have you two had a nice”—he cleared his throat—“talk?” His gaze riveted to Brooke’s phone sitting on the table.
“Oh, yes,” Brooke said, gushing. “Melanie here is a wonderful conversationalist.”
Ha! I’d hardly said two words. But I smiled. “Yes, we’ve been just fine.”
“Let’s go home,” he said, holding his hand out to me.
I took it and didn’t look back at Brooke as we walked to the kitchen. Felicia was nowhere to be found. Just as well.
