Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
At some point in her teens, Catie had put a label on that look—it had been of a woman who knew she couldn’t rely on this man. What kind of mother, Catie sometimes wondered, would Jacqueline have been if she’d had a true partner for a husband—someone who not only pulled his weight but who called her to account when necessary? Instead, it was Ísa who’d been thrust into the role of ensuring Jacqueline didn’t totally abdicate her responsibilities as a parent.
Danny had parted his lips to reply when the intercom buzzed, and suddenly there was no more smiling. Rising, he went to answer and let the detective up. She cleared the table in the interim, not wanting this stranger to see any hint of vulnerability. Danny was feeling exposed enough.
It turned out Detective Green had brought his partner along with him.
Catie figured the heavy presence had to be because of Danny’s status as a well-known athlete, but after the two had taken their statements and gotten Viliame’s details so they could interview him as well, the younger of the pair—Detective Shan—put away her notebook and said, “I don’t know if this’ll make you feel better, but you’re not the first person this has happened to in the past month.”
Danny’s face was granite. “I figured it happens.”
“No, this specific drug combination at this specific bar,” she clarified. “All males with no associated assault or theft. One target was out alone and collapsed in the street; a few inches to the right and he’d have hit the curb, almost certainly suffered a severe head injury. Then there’s the problem of dosage—the individual doing this is getting reckless, might accidentally give someone too much.”
Seated right beside Danny, their bodies touching, Catie fisted her hands on her thighs. “You mean some sicko is doing this for the hell of it?” Exactly as Dr. Smitherson had theorized.
“That’s what it looks like,” Shan confirmed. “The good news is that there are a lot of photographs of you at the bar.” A nod at Danny, her hair a shining black pulled back in a neat bun. “All over social media. We’re trawling through them to see if we can pinpoint anyone also caught on camera at the previous scenes.”
She’d felt Danny’s body tense at the mention of social media, took the lead. “The photos—any of them—?”
Detective Green was already shaking his head, his scalp a freckled paleness where it showed through his extreme buzz cut. “No compromising shots,” he said, then glanced from Catie to Danny and back, one eyebrow slightly cocked. “Unless you’re concerned about the images of you two with your arms around each other. Those are blowing up on every network that we checked.”
That was when Catie realized her phone was still on silent; she’d forgotten to switch the sound back on after leaving the hospital. Because no freaking way Veni wouldn’t have called her by now. Especially since the last message Catie had sent her best friend had been to tell her that she’d be missing their flight.
“We can handle that,” she said, nudging Danny’s shoulder—or, more accurately, a lower part of his arm. Seated, she was still shorter than him. “As if anyone would believe I’d hook up with hotshot here.”
Danny shot her a narrow-eyed look. “Did you or did you not see that I am considered the Sizzling Bachelor of the Year according to the biggest women’s magazine in the country?”
“The editors obviously need glasses.”
Coughing into her hand in a failed effort to hide her grin, Detective Shan rose to her feet. Beside her, Detective Green was making no such effort, his grin creasing his cheeks and bringing an unexpected twinkle to the hazel of his eyes.
However, that amusement had faded by the time they reached the door. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he said to Danny. “But by reporting the incident, you’ve helped us gather more evidence.”
Shan nodded. “It might be exactly what we need to stop anyone else being ambushed.”
Catie saw a little of the tension go out of Danny’s spine. Again, she thought of Joseph and how he’d raised his boys. As protectors. It would matter to Danny that his actions might help someone else escape the same sense of violation.
“That does help,” he said to the detectives and held out his hand.
After everyone shook, the cops left. But Danny’s work wasn’t yet done. For one, he had to organize a copy of his medical report for both the cops and his agent.
While he disappeared into his bedroom to do that, Catie sat down on the living room sofa with her legs stretched out in front, the snow a steady fall beyond the balcony doors, pulled a cozy blanket over herself, and decided to see how bad it was on social media before she returned all her—many—missed calls and texts.