Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“That’s sweet, Lillian, but I’m not sure what you meant when you said, ‘we did it before,’” Harry noted.
“Upped stakes and left,” I explained. “One day, in LA, we just upped stakes and left. Came up here. Dad almost immediately sold our car. I think they bought this house in cash. I was ten. They said it was time to slow down, find the quiet life. They didn’t want to raise their daughter in the mean city.”
“But you suspect different?”
I shook my head, but said, “I don’t know. It was just so sudden. At first, I was mad about leaving California and my friends. But then we were here and it’s so beautiful here, and they were so happy. It was impossible not to be happy with them.”
Harry said nothing to that.
“What I’m trying to get at is, this isn’t out of the norm for them. To decide to go and then just go.”
Again…lame!
“And leave you behind,” Harry said quietly.
I pressed my lips together before asserting, “If they have each other, they’re fine.”
Harry again was silent.
“Why are you asking about this now?” I demanded. “Especially if the statute of limitations has run out.”
“The Dietrichs reported quite a bit of their property was stolen in that robbery. Guns, valuables, even vehicles,” he told me.
It was my turn to be silent.
Harry shifted in his seat, and I did not at all like how uncomfortable he looked doing it.
He finally settled and stated, “One of the guns reported missing was recently found in Idaho.”
“Okay…” I said, not getting it.
“Lillian…”
He didn’t finish that.
A chill glided over my skin.
“What?” I whispered.
“I need to ask you for a DNA sample.”
Ice flooded my veins.
“Why?” I pushed out.
“I’m so sorry, Lillian,” he said gently. So, so gently, my stomach roiled. “The gun was found buried with two bodies.”
I shot up and raced to the bathroom.
I landed on my knees in front of the toilet.
And I got sick.
THREE
I Can’t Stop
Lillian
It was on heave two when my hair was pulled back to be held at my nape and a warm hand landed between my shoulders blades and started stroking my spine.
Great.
I was vomiting in front of Handsome Harry Moran.
“Get it out, honey,” he murmured.
Great times two. I was now crying.
Puking and crying.
Two bodies.
I bucked and sobbed and heaved again, the trifecta of sad, mortifying and gross.
Eventually, there was nothing more coming out.
When I rested my forehead against the seat, Harry flushed the toilet and urged, “Stay there.”
I wasn’t going anywhere. Ever. I was never leaving that bathroom. Not ever.
Regrettably, he returned and ordered gently, “Sit back, Lillian.”
I sat back and avoided his eyes.
I was embarrassed, yeah.
Mostly, I was destroyed.
He wiped my mouth with a wet cloth then handed me a La Croix.
The tab was already popped.
I took some in my mouth, swished it around, leaned in and spat it out in the toilet.
Harry flushed it again.
I sat back and took another drink then dashed at the wet that was leaking onto my cheeks.
God, I hated vomiting.
I could avoid Harry no longer, considering he sat on his ass in my tiny bathroom with me.
Yes.
He sat on his ass right there with me in my tiny bathroom.
When I finally caught his gaze, he said hopelessly, “Don’t lose hope, Lillian. Those bodies have yet to be identified.”
“I’ve been living in denial,” I mumbled pitifully.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I’d sleep on an air mattress for the last sixteen years if I thought a PI could find my parents. I didn’t…I couldn’t…I—”
Harry saved me by cutting in. “Understandable.”
“They’d call.”
“All right.”
“Or write.”
“Okay, honey,” he whispered.
My face scrunched, then I was sobbing again, but this time, doing it in Handsome Harry Moran’s arms.
God, he was warm. Hard and strong and warm. I could burrow into him forever.
And that was just what I did.
Burrowed in.
I wanted to pull away. He had better things to do with his time than comforting a woman on the floor in her bathroom. Perps to bring to justice. Drugs to confiscate. Jaywalkers to warn. Stuff like that.
But I couldn’t stop crying.
I was learning sixteen years of knowing—knowing—and not letting yourself believe pent up a lot of tears.
“We-we should contact those re-records people. Idiot woman l-lives in denial for s-s-sixteen years. I bet I beat them all by a mile,” I said.
Harry’s strong arms gave me a gentle squeeze. “Stop it, Lillian.”
I shoved my forehead hard into his neck and murmured, “I always knew.”
He rubbed my back and whispered, “Yeah.”
We sat there, him holding me, me letting him hold me, and it seemed like we did it for a long time.
Eventually, it hit me that jaywalking was dangerous, and someone had to levy a warning on those who did it, so I pulled out of his arms, swiped at my face again and lied, “I’m okay.”
Harry got to his feet in a smooth, agile move that I really wanted to appreciate, but he was pulling me up and I had to concentrate on not falling down again, not to mention, I didn’t appreciate much right then.