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She held out a hand, her eyes flicking to Brett behind me. “I don’t know if you remember me. Mallory Christening.”
I gave her a nod, but I didn’t shake her hand.
Vicky stepped between us. “Billie’s not keen on touch with most people. I hope you’ll understand.”
“Of course.” Mallory folded her hands in front of her, but her eyes kept flickering to Brett again. She let them stay this time, and she cleared her throat. “You’re Brett Broudou.”
“Yes. We, uh…” Vicky looked between us.
I glanced at him over my shoulder.
Brett didn’t respond, and judging from the harshness on his face, he had no intention of responding to her. Surprise flickered in Mallory’s gaze, along with something I couldn’t place. Respect? Challenge?
“It’s new, and we’d like their relationship to remain a secret,” Vicky finally managed. “They’ve been discreet for a reason.”
“Yes.” Mallory pasted a professional smile on her face. “I fully understand that, and Willow, anything we discuss is confidential as well. Of course.”
I frowned, glancing at Vicky, who rolled back her thin shoulders. Those same shoulders that could and would hold the weight of the world if it was needed. She said, “His lawyers are here.”
His. He. As in the Midwest Butcher.
Panic speared me, and I swayed backwards on my feet.
Brett closed the distance, a hand to my hip, and cursed under his breath. “They’re here?”
Vicky pulled her gaze from me to him. Her lips parted as she took an involuntary step backwards. I could imagine what she saw on his face. “We also needed to be discreet.”
“This should’ve been done in a hotel room, whatever it is,” he clipped.
She blinked, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. Her hand lifted to her hair, but fell halfway through the motion. “I, uh, next time, if there’s a next time. But since Billie doesn’t live here, we thought a location familiar to her might bring her comfort.”
So he wouldn’t know where I lived, that’s what she was saying.
They were still keeping my home location a lie. Vicky and Howard had once purposely invited a camera crew into their home to show I wasn’t living there, and they never asked to tour the remaining buildings. The outsides looked too decrepit to house anyone else. Sometimes it seemed ridiculous that I was living in plain sight on their land, but no one questioned my home not being a shed for their animals or for the animal’s food. The back of the guesthouse looked ready to fall down.
Mallory smoothed her shirt. “Fowler’s attorneys are the ones who asked for a police escort. They’ve learned having one with them is a good idea, as a precaution. They’re here because they’ve found new DNA on one of the murder weapons. Their own team did a test.”
I winced before I could hide it.
Brett’s hand flexed on my hip.
Mallory noted his hold on me. “It doesn’t match Cameron Fowler.”
It was easier to think of him as the Midwest Butcher. Hearing his real name was worse somehow, more personal.
“Or any of the Braatens.”
That was Jojo’s family.
“They’d like to take a sample of your DNA to rule you out.”
Vicky jerked in Mallory’s direction. “You never told me that. They should have that on file somewhere. In evidence somewhere?”
Mallory replied without looking away from me. “She was a minor then. They need permission from her now since she’s an adult. Also…” Her lips curved in a sneer. “Some of the evidence has gone missing.”
“Missing?” Vicky’s tone was sharp.
“It happens sometimes.”
