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I clear my throat. “Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s requested that we assign him a new parole officer.”
I raise my eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Did he say why?”
“Just that he didn’t think the two of you clicked. Is that how you feel?”
“No, of course not.” Blood whooshes to my ears like white noise. I do my best to ignore it. “I felt we clicked as well as I click with anyone else. Of course every officer has better rapport with some parolees than others, but I’ve always gotten along fine with everyone I’ve been assigned.”
Bridget smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. Mr. Bellamy is a unique case, as you may know. His family is well known here in Summer Creek. And all of Texas really.”
“Yeah, of course I’ve heard of them.”
“So I’d like to accommodate his request, but the truth is, with Michael out, no one else has an opening on their schedule.”
I narrow my gaze. “So you’re saying…”
“I’m saying you’re going to have to stay as his officer for now. Once Michael is back after rehab, we can reassign him, but for now, I’m telling you the same thing I told him. Unless he has a specific complaint about you breaching your ethics or acting in some other unprofessional way, I can’t reassign him at this time.”
My cheeks warm. “I assure you that—”
“Of course. He said you were perfectly professional. Just a heads up, though, that he does want to be reassigned. You’ll need to tread carefully during his appointments.”
I meet Bridget’s gaze head on. “I always tread carefully, Bridget. I’ve been doing this for a while.”
She smiles. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything, Savannah. We’re thrilled to have you, and if it’s any consolation, one of your parolees specifically stopped by to tell me how great she thinks you are after just one appointment.”
My cheeks warm again. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“I think Falcon Bellamy is just used to getting his way. He seems to forget he spent the last eight years behind bars and now he’s a spoiled Bellamy brat again.”
I lift my eyebrows.
Bridget lets out a sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know the Bellamys, and they’re certainly not on the scale of the Hiltons or the Rockefellers, but they have money. Falcon’s grandmother was a steel heiress. Cooper Steel.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, like I said, just a heads up. When is your next appointment with him?”
I glance at my schedule even though I know exactly when he’s coming in. “Tomorrow morning.”
“Good. I’m sure you’ll fix whatever his complaints are. Thanks, Savannah.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for keeping me in the loop.”
“Of course.” She leaves my cubicle.
Falcon could have destroyed my career and told Bridget how unprofessional and unethical I’ve acted. If he wanted to be reassigned that badly, he totally could have. Should have, even.
But he didn’t. He protected me. Rather than be reassigned, he lied. Told Bridget I hadn’t acted unprofessionally.
My God…
I want him even more now that I know he protected me.
But I can’t go after him.
I can’t call him again. If I’m concerned about Raven, I’ll just have to be concerned. It’s none of my business anyway.
I keep busy with appointments and paperwork, and I ignore Bridget’s advice and work straight through my lunch hour. By six, I’ve got things under control.
And I allow myself to think about Falcon. How can I not? He’s my first appointment tomorrow morning.
Nine a.m. sharp.
His last appointment was at ten.
Why does he have to be my first appointment of the day?
I gather my belongings, say goodbye to the few people who are still in the office, get to my car, and leave, only to find myself driving to the hospital instead of home.
Why? Raven’s no longer there, so Falcon won’t be there.
Guilt, that’s why. Guilt that I haven’t spent more time looking after Ashley. We’re not close, to be sure, and her accident is entirely her own fault, but she means a lot to Gert and Jordan, so I’ll check in.
I stop, find a parking spot, and head into the hospital, taking an elevator to the seventh floor.
Ashley’s room.
I gasp when I get there.
It’s dark and empty, but Ashley’s name is still on the name plate. Just like Raven’s.
Which means she hasn’t been gone long.
She must have been discharged.
The Hunts aren’t here, and Jordan and Gert arrived back in Austin last night.
No one to give me any information.
I head to the nurse’s desk. “Excuse me?”
“Yes?”
“I’m looking for Ashley Hunt. Was she discharged?”
The nurse’s lips turn downward. “Oh, goodness. Are you a friend?”
“Yes. I haven’t seen her in a few days, but some other friends were here yesterday.”
She pauses, takes a breath. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, ma’am, but Ms. Hunt passed away this afternoon.”
“What?”
“Yes, she…”
But I stop listening as my limbs go numb and my throat tightens. I swallow hard.
