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“For what?”
“For Sarabelle,” she says quietly. “And all the abductions. Human trafficking, they called it.”
“No shit?”
She nods. “That's right. Actually, I think your dad had a hand in getting it done quickly. Lockwood was taken as soon as they got him back into the states. And, for the record, you just missed your father.”
I blink my gritty eyes. “He was here?”
Libby nods. “Yep. And he had news. He's resigning.”
My shock makes my back hurt. “What the fuck?”
“Apparently he's fallen in love with one of his aides. She looked a little younger than him, maybe in her thirties.”
I snort. “Oh.”
“But I don't think that was all. He told me he had some personal things to settle. He's coming back to talk to you tomorrow.”
I nod, because I don't expect much from that bullshit. If my father is resigning, it's probably because certain people in the FBI know about the Rita cover-up. I shift my weight again, testing the pain around my left arm. It streaks through me, and I find myself panting.
“You need pain meds.” Libby's frowning.
“No. I want to know...about Priscilla.”
Her frown deepens as she leans a little closer, resting her chin on my bed rail. “She's missing, Hunter. We didn't get her out of Mexico. Cross says she might have gone with some of the locals.”
I shut my eyes. That's fucking weird.
“Dr. Libby has been here. So has Marchant. And Loveless.”
I'm surprised. Not about Marchant, but about the others. “How is Loveless?”
“She left you those,” Libby says, pointing to a bouquet of yellow flowers, “and the others will all be back to see you tomorrow.”
Libby's fingers stroke my face, and I reach out and grab her arm. I tug her closer, and she leans over the rail and presses her face into my side. She eases an arm over my waist. With my right hand, I reach out and touch her pretty dark brown hair.
“What about you?” I whisper. “How long have you been here?”
“A while,” she murmurs.
“The whole time?”
“Maybe.”
I smile a little, tightening my grip on her. “I can't get rid of you.”
She sits up, so I can see her face. “You can't,” she whispers, smiling. But her eyes look serious.
“I didn't really want to,” I confess.
Epilogue
~ELIZABETH~
It's one of the first warm days in March, and Hunter has a poker tournament this afternoon. This one's at the Wynn, which is convenient since that's where we've been staying. After he was discharged, we sort of took a two-month vacation here.
He offered to take me home to Crestwood Place and recuperate in Vegas on his own, but there was no way. After everything that's happened, I just can't stand to be away from him.
