“You knew, didn’t you? You knew he told the cops I did this!”
Della stormed out of the room before everyone got to see her cry. Before they got to witness her heart breaking.
As she ran, her feet pounding on the cold hard ground, the absurdity of it hit. She was trying to get her father off for murder while her father was trying to get her convicted. Maybe it was justice. It was her fault he’d been arrested.
She had to stop and catch her breath when she realized that her father actually thought she’d killed someone. Even with all of the evidence pointing to him, she’d never believed he could have done that. What had she done to make him hate her so much?
The answer came, with clarity. She was a monster.
She was almost to her porch when she saw Kylie standing at the window, phone to her ear. Holiday had probably called her.
Della didn’t want anyone trying to make her feel better. They couldn’t.
“Della,” someone called her name.
Recognizing his voice, she swung around and faced Chase. “Go away. Go! I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to see anyone!”
“You’re hurting,” Chase said. “I know. I just want to sit with you. Hold you.”
“I don’t want you to sit with me. I don’t want you to ever hold me again! My uncle told me, Chase. You knew he said he would come forward and wouldn’t let my dad go to jail. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
He ran a hand over the back of his head and guilt filled his eyes. “Because I wasn’t going to let that happen. He didn’t kill his sister.”
“Neither did my father!” Admitting it aloud made all this hurt so much more.
She shook her head. “And you purposely forbade him from getting in touch with you. Because you knew if he did call, you would lie. Lie to me, just like you always lie! And whatever Kirk told you, you are keeping that from me too.”
He shook his head. “Della?”
“No!” she screamed and lurched forward, knocking him on his ass. “Leave! You excel at doing it, so do it one more time. And this time, don’t come back.”
“You don’t mean that,” he said, but he didn’t get up. “You’re just upset.”
She shook her head and went and stood over him. “Listen to my heart, Chase. Hear the truth.” She wiped her tears away. “You said it was my choice if this bond lasted. I’m choosing, Chase. It’s over. Leave me the hell alone!”
She shot up the stairs, past Kylie, who stood in the doorway, and went to her bedroom.
Chapter Forty-six
Chase stood up. Della’s words sliced through him like a dull knife. But it was her pain that he felt the most.
He started up the porch, but Kylie stepped into the doorway.
“I think it might be best if you let her be alone for a while.”
He raked a hand over his face.
“She’s just upset,” Kylie told him and touched his arm. She’d turned fae. He could feel her trying to soothe him.
He shook his head and had to swallow not to let his emotion turn to tears. “She wasn’t lying when she said…” Damn, that hurt.
Kylie stepped closer. “Sometimes when the heart breaks, it doesn’t know what it wants and it doesn’t recognize the difference between the truth and a lie. Give her some time.”
“Time.” He turned and walked away.
Holiday came running up. “Is she okay?”
“No,” Chase said. “She’s not. Somebody needs to be with her, but she definitely doesn’t want it to be me.”
Chase stopped off at the office to see Burnett.
“Can I kill her father now?”
Burnett frowned. “Go home and sleep. I’ll call you when and if anyone shows up at the two houses where you think Stone might be. If I don’t call, I’ll pick you up at six.”
Chase hadn’t even remembered he’d left his car somewhere. Hell, he didn’t care. “I feel like I should be doing something.”
“Go rest so you can do something later.”
Chase started out, and Burnett said, “Wait.”
He looked back. “Do you have a way of contacting Eddie?”
“I could call Kirk. Why? You want to arrest Eddie?” Wouldn’t that be the perfect ending to all of this? Chase thought.
Burnett shook his head. “No. I won’t let anything Stone says come back to him. But I would like to talk to him. I’m not going to ask you to give me his number, but could you ask him to call me?”
Chase ran a hand over his face. “I don’t think he’ll do it.”
Burnett sighed. “Look, I can’t blame Eddie for what he did. If it had been me, I would have killed him too. But I’d like to at least know that Eddie doesn’t plan on trying to exact some revenge on the FRU later on.”
“Don’t you think he would’ve already done that if that was his plan?”
“I’d still like to talk to him.”
Chase went to his cabin. He fed and walked Baxter. He drank a glass of blood. Then he went to bed and watched the ceiling fan spin.
You said it was my choice if this bond lasted. I’m choosing, Chase. It’s over. Leave me the hell alone!
Baxter jumped up on the bed and rested his head on Chase’s arm. It was as if the dog knew he was dying inside.
Picking up his phone, he considered calling her, but what for? She’d only tell him to go away.
Then, because he figured he couldn’t hurt any more than he already did, he dialed Kirk’s number and left a message that he needed to speak to Eddie. Hell, for all he knew, Eddie wouldn’t talk to Kirk.
But ten minutes later, his phone rang.
“Hey,” Chase said.
“Son?” the man answered. And it was the voice of the man who had been there for him since the plane crash. The man who had held him when he’d wept over losing his parents.
Chase started to say something, but his voice broke.
“What’s wrong, Chase?” Eddie said.
“Everything,” Chase said, not knowing how to explain any of this. Would Eddie think Chase had sacrificed him to save Della’s father? The man didn’t deserve to be saved.
How could Eddie not feel betrayed by Chase? Especially when he probably already felt betrayed by Kirk.
“What is it? Talk to me.”
After a few minutes, Chase asked, “Did you talk to Kirk?”
“For the first time, right now. Just to tell me you called. He wouldn’t answer my calls and he wasn’t at his lake house. But he said I could call him after we talk. How could a friend do this?” Eddie asked.
Chase pushed his head into the pillow. “I don’t know.”
“What did Kirk ask you to do, Chase?”
“To kill Stone and not hand him over to the FRU. Kirk promised to talk you out of confessing to killing your sister.”
“I don’t understand,” Eddie said.
“He took the files, Eddie. Stone was blackmailing the council not to turn him in.”
“That’s not an excuse. Kirk should have told me. I thought he was my friend.”
Chase swallowed. “Kirk told me about Kirsha. About the agent who planted the bomb.”
There was silence. “He shouldn’t have told you.”
“Look, I can understand why you did it. And I went to Burnett. He’s going to try to fix it.”
He heard the man who had been his father for the last four years let out a low growl. “I don’t need an FRU agent to try to fix it, Chase,” Eddie seethed. “I killed the guy who killed Kirsha and I’d do it again if he showed up today. And again tomorrow.”
“I know. And I don’t blame you. That’s why I told Burnett. He doesn’t hold you responsible either. If I catch Stone, I’m not going to kill him.”
“Kirk should have never asked you to do that,” Eddie said.
“I know.” He inhaled. “Look, Burnett has agreed not to let anything Stone says about you to come forward, but…”
“What?” Eddie asked.
“He wants to talk to you. I
’m going text you his number. You should call him.”
“I can’t promise that,” Eddie said.
“Try.”
Eddie hung up.
Chase texted Burnett’s number, then went back to watching the ceiling fan.
* * *
Somewhere around three that morning Chase finally fell asleep. At five thirty his alarm rang. He sat up, hoping that big knot of pain in his chest had released.
It hadn’t.
His phone dinged with a text. His heart leapt, thinking it would be Della.
It was Burnett. Be there in thirty.
Chase texted back one word. Della?
His cell dinged back with two. Not talking.
Tossing his phone down, feeling helpless, he went to shower.
By eight, the shoe imprint had come in that matched the half were’s shoe. Chase got to give him the news. That felt good and he wished he could be there when Della’s father got the news that they’d caught the murderers.
At nine Burnett had Chase doing some filing. Filing? When that was done, Burnett had him fetching breakfast for Sam, Perry’s cousin, who was still being held in a temporary cell. Chase was beginning to feel like Burnett’s secretary.
When Chase returned, Burnett met him at the entrance. He handed the bag of food off to the receptionist—delivering the orders—and motioned for Chase to follow.
“We got something?”
“A cleaning lady just entered the house on Vermont Street,” Burnett said. “When she leaves we’re going to snatch her up and see what she knows.”
Burnett stopped at a white van parked out front. “Here.” He handed Chase a cup he’d been holding. “It’s for you. My personal breakfast blend. O negative with some B positive.”
Chase got in. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Drink.” Burnett cut his eyes to Chase. “Eddie says you can be an ass if you don’t feed a little in the morning.”
Chase looked up. “He called?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“I have a plan.” He started the engine.
“And you aren’t going to share it with me?” he countered.
“First we need to catch Stone.”
Frustrated, Chase stared out the window. Then realized he was being an ass. Burnett was helping him. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a favor. It’s what’s right.”
Silence filled the van, and then Burnett spoke up. “This agency does a lot of good, but I don’t always agree with their policies.”
It was the thing he respected about Burnett the most. The man valued rules but bent them when needed. “How do you know when to do it?” Chase asked
“Do what?”
“When to break policy? I mean, do you ask, ‘What would Jesus do?’ or what?”
“Everyone has a moral compass,” Burnett said.
“But not everyone’s is pointing in the same direction.”
“You only worry about your own direction.” He exhaled. “I ask myself, if my ass gets caught, will it be worth it. If the answer is yes, I do it.” He glanced at Chase. “And don’t for a minute think they won’t fire you.”
Chase stared out the window at the blurred landscape: trees, buildings, cars, people. The world hadn’t stopped, so why did it feel as if his had? A vision of a dark-haired spitfire filled his mind.
He hated to ask, but his concern outweighed his pride.
“Any news on Della?”
Burnett didn’t look at him, but his jaw tightened. “Holiday said she still hasn’t come out of her room. Miranda and Kylie are planning an intervention if she doesn’t surface soon. Is she not answering your calls or texts?”
Chase swallowed. “She … asked me to stay away.”
“Sometimes women say shit they don’t mean,” Burnett said.
“Yeah,” Chase said, but she’d sure as hell sounded like she meant it.
* * *
The sun poured through Della’s window, proof that while she felt dead inside, life went on.
It was late. She’d actually slept. Well, some. At least visions of bloody knives hadn’t kept her awake. Not that she hadn’t thought about death. Just not about Bao Yu’s.
Had her aunt accepted the truth that Della’s father hadn’t killed her? Della didn’t know, but she had done her own accepting.
She knew what she had to do.
Getting out of bed, she tilted her head to make sure Kylie or Miranda wasn’t out there waiting to pounce. As much as she loved them and knew they only wanted to help, she didn’t need the hold-hands-and-sing-“Kumbaya” kind of help.
There was only one kind of help she needed.
No noises echoed from the cabin, so Della went to shower. She reached into a drawer and pulled out clean underwear. Written across the front of her high-top panties was the word: “Tuesday.” She recalled Chase seeing her in Monday panties and laughing that she’d had the days of the week wrong.
She remembered telling him it was over.
Not now. Not now.
She finished dressing, and headed to the office to start putting her decision in motion.
* * *
“I do nothing wrong. I clean houses,” the young Hispanic woman said, looking at Chase and Burnett sitting across from them at the hamburger joint they’d followed her to.
Chase saw the fear widening her brown eyes. She kept one hand on the wiggling infant in the baby carrier.
“We aren’t saying you have,” Burnett said. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”
“I file for citizenship. I wait for my papers. But I have to work now, my baby need diapers and to see doctor. Her daddy not help me.”
“Ms. Galvez, we are not with Immigration,” Chase said. “We do not care about your papers. We are investigating the man who owns the house you just cleaned. We need to know about him. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “I do not know him well. I work for him only two months. I get job because I cleaned the house for the señora who live there before. I go to clean the house the day she move out and he see me and ask me to continue to clean for him. He and his friends come and go.”
“How many of his friends stay with him?” Burnett asked.
“Many friends.”
“How many approximately?” Chase asked.
“Sometimes twelve, sometimes eight. House only have four beds. They sleep on sofas and on floor.” She leaned in. “They make big mess. Not very clean people.”
Burnett leaned forward. “How often do you clean the house?”
“Every two weeks.”
“No one was home today, right?” Chase asked, just making sure.
“Right.”
“Is that unusual?” Burnett asked. “Is he usually gone? How does he pay you?”
“He sometime there, sometime not. I like it better when he not home. He leave money on kitchen table.”
“Was your money there today?”
She nodded. “I tell him, no money, no clean.”
Chase looked at Burnett and knew the man was thinking the same thing. No way would Stone leave money for the maid if he’d skipped town.
Burnett looked back at the young mother. “Do you know where he works or where he might be when he’s not there?”
She shook her head. “I not get too friendly with my men clients.”
“But have you seen something in the house that could have told you anything?”
She shook her head. “I sorry, I do not know.”
“Thank you,” Burnett said.
“I go now?” she asked.
“Yes,” Chase said. “And if I were you, I’d stop cleaning for him.”
She stood. “Is he bad man?”
Burnett nodded.
She exhaled and Chase saw in her eyes that she needed the money from the job. She walked away with the baby carrier that almost looked too heavy for her. She didn’t appear to be much older than him.
“Wait.” Chase pulled out his wallet.
“Thank you for speaking to us.” He handed her all the money he had in his wallet. Probably only a couple of hundred, but it might hold her over until she found another cleaning gig.
She looked hesitant.
“Please take it. It’s reward money for speaking to us.”
“Thank you.” Nodding, she took the bills from his hand and walked over to the counter to order her lunch.
“I’ll pay you back,” Burnett said.
“You don’t have to,” Chase said.
They started out.
“Sir, sir.” Mrs. Galvez came hurrying over to them. “I just remember. Last month, I take my sister to help me clean. She see Señor Stone and some of his friends at his house. She tell me he has another house next door to one she clean. The next week I ask him if he want me to clean other house, too. He tell me he not own other house. I think my sister has good eyes. Maybe he has a friend who own house.”
“What’s the address?” Burnett asked.
Chapter Forty-seven
“I need your help.” Della dropped down in the chair in front of Holiday’s desk.
Pity, empathy, and a whole shit-load of emotions filled the camp leader’s face. Della could tell the fae was aching to touch her to try to ease her pain. But sometimes pain was a good thing. It forced one to focus on the problem. Maybe even to find a solution.
“You got it,” Holiday said. “Anything. What do you need?”
Della picked up a pen from Holiday’s desk. The words sat on the tip of Della’s tongue. All she had to do was spit them out. She clicked the pen. The tiny noise filled the small office. Click. Click. Click.
“I … I need you to help me plan my death.”
Holiday’s eyes widened. “Anything but that.”
“That’s not acceptable.” Della frowned. Click. Click. Click.
“But Della—”
“You gave me your word that if I tried it your way—that if I attempted to stay connected with my family and it didn’t work, you’d help me fake my own death.” She put her finger back on the tip of the pen. “You even helped Jonathon.”
Click!
“Jonathon’s home life was dysfunctional.”
“And mine’s not? My father thinks I could slice and dice a sweet ol’ neighbor and her husband.” She gripped the pen so tight that she thought she heard the thin plastic crack.