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“What a lovely visual image.”
The door opened as someone knocked. Jessa’s assistant stuck her head in the room. “Excuse me.”
“I’m at lunch.” A fact Jessa thought should have been obvious.
The door opened wider, and Detective Melissa Schone walked in. “She’s warning you I’m here.”
Jessa dropped her sandwich. “And that kills my appetite.”
“I’ve heard worse.” The detective stared at the assistant until she backed out of the room and closed the door behind her. “Good afternoon.”
“Detective.” Jessa wiped her hands on her napkin. “This is my friend Faith, but you know that.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” the detective said.
Faith frowned. “Okay. That’s scary.”
“I have a call into your office to speak with you after I meet with Jessa.”
That sounded like a threat, and Jessa wasn’t in the mood, so she skipped over the introductory blather and went right to the main question. “What’s going on?”
“We need to find somewhere private to—”
“No.” Jessa wasn’t in the mood for closed-door meetings in conference rooms and the explanations she’d have to dole out after to appease the partners. “You can say whatever it is in front of Faith, because I will fill her in five seconds from now anyway.”
“Ellie Bartholomew came in today and gave us more background on the driveway incident,” the detective said, sounding very serious and in charge.
Jessa had been waiting for this news. “Good. It’s about time.”
“The information implicates you,” the detective said.
Faith made an odd sound before she started whispering, “Oh, shit.”
“Implicates me in what?” Jessa refused to panic. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Hell, the case only started a few weeks ago, and it already took up too much time, but it was only at the beginning stages.
The detective leaned against the closed door. “Mrs. Bartholomew says you advised her to ignore the judge’s order and leave the jurisdiction with Curtis. That you provided her with information about setting up new identities for her and her son.”
Why would Ellie do that? Why lie and hand Darren that sort of ammunition? “You can’t believe that. It’s not true.”
The detective looked at Faith. “You’re familiar with this case, aren’t you? Assisting women in trouble is your specialty. Some say making them disappear is your expertise.”
Faith being Faith, she didn’t ruffle. She continued chewing. “I’m just sitting here eating a sandwich.”
The idea of this case spilling out on the people she loved—in a real way, not in the way where Tim worried his boss would get ticked off—was not okay. Jessa rushed to put the attention back on her. “Faith is not involved in the Bartholomew case. At all.”
The detective shrugged. “Mr. and Mrs. Bartholomew believe otherwise. They’re contemplating their options.”
And Mrs.?“What the hell does that mean?”
The detective smiled now, clearly pleased with her verbal bombshell. “Civil charges. Possibly criminal.”
“No . . . no.” The panic hit Jessa in waves now. In a blink, shesaw all her hard work, all the sacrifices she’d made, the good and bad choices, wither into nothingness. “This can’t be happening.”
Faith threw the half-eaten sandwich on the desk and gestured toward the desk phone. “Jessa, I think you should get another lawyer in your office to hear this.”
Right. Counsel. The pros and cons, mostly cons, swirled in Jessa’s head. She should have enough experience and presence to handle this without bringing in the big guns, but the assurance in the detective’s voice had Jessa shaking from the inside out.
The detective nodded in Faith’s direction. “What about you?”
