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But it was.
There was a knock at my door, and I looked up. It was a man in averyexpensive tailored suit. He was nothing shy of ridiculously hot, and probably in his early thirties.
“Miss Wilder?” he said with the tiniest hint of a Spanish accent. His voice wasn’t the deepest I’d ever heard, but it was definitely smooth.
“Yes?” I answered.
He stepped inside, and I noticed that he had a briefcase in hand. “Hello,” he said as he crossed the room and offered me a hand. The security outside my room didn’t budge, so I assumed they’d either passed him or knew him. Either way, I didn’t feel threatened, so I shook his hand. “I’m Javier Vasquez. I’m an attorney from California, and I work for your father.”
My eyes narrowed a bit. “Rick Avery,” I corrected.
He noticed and smiled faintly. “Uh, yes. Rick Avery.” He paused a moment before remembering he had a briefcase in hand. He laid it on the bed next to me and dug out some papers before handing them to me.”
“What’s this?” I asked.
“This is bank account information that’s been set up by Mr. Avery in your name, credit cards, and credit card account information. There is also information about your parents—the Wilders,” he said, emphasizing the name and their title for my benefit. “Everything we could find on your adoption, the Wilder family home, vehicles, and anything else you might need while dealing with their estate. Mr. Avery thought this might be of assistance to you during this difficult time. On top there, you’ll also find all of his contact information as well as the address where you’ll be staying if you so choose.”
My head snapped up at that last part. “Do what now?”
“He would like it very much if you came to stay with him and his family—yourfamily—in California.”
I looked at him incredulously. “Not that I don’t appreciate the twenty-four-seven armed security, the paid medical bills, and you dropping by, but why would I do that? I have a life here. I have school and friends. Yeah, I’m a little short in the family department, but I still have a life. I have suffered through enough change in the last couple weeks to last a lifetime. I can’t make a decision that big right now.”
He nodded, looking at me with obvious sympathy. “I certainly understand that. He does, too. However, with everything that happened here—and the fact that those responsible have yet to be caught—he’s worried you may be in danger. The only lead we have so far is a woman who may be working with them.”
“A woman? Do you know who she is?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, but we managed to get a photo of her. The van they were in was destroyed along with any evidence inside, but we found security footage that showed a woman removing a mask in the passenger side seat.”
“What? How? Detective Abbott said they had nothing. They found a few things on traffic cams, but they were smart and had their masks on the whole time. How did you guys find something else?”
He looked at me with a quirked brow, and everything clicked.
“Ah, right. Daddy Warbucks is a state senator. Creepy government spy stuff. Got it.”
Javier laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, we wanted to show you that security photo. While we don’t believe you know her, it’s possible she may have come to the church beforehand, or maybe you’dconvenientlybumped into her in other places. She may have even posed as that fake nurse who turned out to be a reporter you had issues with. We’d just like to know if you’ve seen her.”
I almost asked how he knew about that, but then I remembered that Rick Avery was the reason I had the security in place to begin with. He probably had connections in the local police department looking out for me and giving him updates. Wasn’t too farfetched to believe.
“Okay. Sure. I’ll look.”
I waited patiently as he reached into his briefcase and handed me a photo. I fully expected never to have seen the woman, but the moment my eyes landed on hers, my blood ran cold. I swallowed hard as chills ran down my body.
“Miss Wilder?” he asked.
I looked up at him, my eyes widened, and my lips slightly parted. I wanted to speak, but I couldn’t. I just looked over at the vase of lilies sitting on my bedside table.
“Temperance, did she send you those?” he asked, his normally kind voice turning cold. “Have you seen her?”
I looked back at him, and he suddenly looked fierce. Like he would go to war to protect me if he had to. Not something I would have expected from a lawyer.
I nodded. “Sh—she was my nurse,” I choked out. “Angela. She said her name was Angela.”
Recognition flashed across his face when he heard the name, but he continued. “What did she say to you?”
I stared at him, but I wasn’t looking at him. It was more that I was looking straight through him to the wall. My brain felt like it might melt. The same fear came over me that I felt in the church. Death. The feeling was death. I had beensoclose to it then, and when Angela was in my room, I’d apparently been closer at that moment than I knew.
“She was my nurse,” I repeated, finding my voice. “She was kind. I’m usually a pretty good judge of character. I noticed Faux Florence Nightingale the reporter right off. But this woman… I don’t know. She seemed—warm. She talked to me about her daughter.”
