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So we’ll meet somewhere.
Fuck.She wiped her clammy hands one at a time on her pants.
Her mother’s voice ran through her head:You play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.She shook her head to push it away—she’d been so sure she’d played it right, so sure she’d dodged the bullet. How could she have been so stupid?
But she knew why. Because Pete falling out of love with her had left her damaged and lost, questioning her life and her very identity, something she’d never once had to do before. And she hadn’t handled it well.
Self-esteem had never been an issue with Julia. Not that she was conceited, she just knew her strengths and weaknesses. In a photograph, she’d probably be rated a seven out of ten, but in person she had a presence that pulled men to her like metal shavings to a magnet. They turned when she entered a room, even when more objectively attractive women were present. They listened when she spoke and laughed at her jokes. She’d never doubted her ability to entrance whoever she wanted—and she’d wanted Pete Gagnon.
Once they were married, she never felt the need to fan other flames. But Pete had called on her to do just that, strategically, to help build the Gagnon empire. She had a gift for getting important men to talk about things they wouldn’t otherwise, ‘better than a hundred-year-old bottle of Scotch,’ Pete would joke. She came to suspect it was actually a turn-on for him that she was able to deliver contracts other family members couldn’t secure. But as she got older, her charms waned. The powerful men were still happy to flirt with her, but they weren’t hypnotized the way they’d once been. It hadn’t bothered her because the only head she wanted to turn was Pete’s—but it bothered Pete, and their intimacy disappeared. Not just physically, but mentally as well—even when they were in the same room they were in separate places.
So she found herself counting wrinkles, pinching sagging skin, hurrying to cover the gray creeping into her hairline. But no amount of facials or makeovers or gorgeous dresses rekindled his attention. The affair was her damaged ego’s way of putting a bandage over that wound, of convincing herself she was still worth what she used to be worth. And while reveling in the reassurance of being desired again, she’d failed to see the lurking warning signs.
At the next red light, she responded.
Pete’s reach is powerful. He won’t just come after me, he’ll come after you.
Fuck that, he responded with lightning speed.Let him come for me.
Her mouth went dry. He’d never discounted Pete before, and that wasn’t a good sign. She wasn’t sure what it meant or what exactly he was capable of, and she couldn’t risk finding out.
He used me for all of these years, and I deserve my fair share. If you love me like you say you do, help me get it.
She held her breath as she waited for his reply.
There’s no reason why we can’t at least talk over the phone.
Except on the phone she wouldn’t be able to choose her words with care and he’d be able to pin her down. She had to dodge.
I’m late for class, and I have a memorial I need to help with, AND I have clients every night this week. I need you to be patient.
One minute ticked away, then two.
Finally the response came:I can be patient for now, as long as I know you want me.
She stared down, unable to swallow. If she didn’t say it, he’d freak, and she couldn’t risk putting herself and the man she loved in danger. She had to keep his hope alive, and she had to do it fast, because he was counting the seconds and too long a delay would be just as damning as no response at all.
She forced her thumbs over the keyboard, silently asking Rick to forgive her as she typed.
I want you.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Jo’s hand tapped frenetically at her leg as she and Arnett returned to their desks. “I’m not sure how happy Silva will be if we dig deeper into Louisa Lyndak’s death since it’s not our jurisdiction. I’m going to text him.” She typed out a message as they slid back into their chairs.
Arnett pulled out his own phone. “A text just came in from one of my informants about Lyndak. Pretty straightforward: ‘Bitch didn’t know how to mind her business.’”
“That’s in line with what Hailey told us, but not much more helpful,” Jo said. “In terms of what we can do, Travis Hartley is my number-one suspect for Madison’s murder at this point.”
Arnett ran his thumbnail along his jawline. “Agreed. I’m thinking Madison either saw the wrong thing or said no to the wrong person.”
Jo’s pen rapped on her notepad. “And she didn’t do drugs, so a faked overdose wouldn’t get them what they needed. They’d’ve had to branch out. If he met a member of Lucifer Lost in the club or spotted the sticker in the bathroom and researched it, he might have decided it was a good way to get rid of the threat.”
“Fits with what happened in the woods. If he ‘ran into’ her and hit her up for sex in the woods, she might not have felt she could say no.”
“And it would have been easy for him to say he didn’t want the dog watching. Matt won’t let Cleopatra in the room when—”
Arnett’s hand shot up. “TMI. But I agree. It would also explain why she took her clothes off without a struggle.”
