longer in the front, shorter in the back. Highlights. Biracial. Early twenties, max. Light-skinned. Can’t speak to height, so her weight would be hard to guess, but I can say she was slender, verging on skinny. Had an almost muscular look, like she was really into fitness. Maybe an instructor or something.” The muscles she’d seen on that woman didn’t come from hitting the gym three or four times a week, she knew that much. “If I could sit down with a sketch artist, I could do better, but I don’t see me getting access to one just yet.”
On the other end of the phone, her contact sighed. “I’ll do what I can, honey, but that’s not much to work with.”
“I know . . . I’ll try to get more info.” Go back into the memory. Look for more.
“Be careful.”
She grimaced as she finished the phone call. She went into the phone’s memory and deleted it. It would show on the phone bill, but that would be some time from now and the call had been short. Hopefully, nobody would think to look twice. Carefully, she wiped it down and left it sitting in one of the stalls before she slid out of the bathroom.
She had a spa day ahead of her. What a bloody joke.
* * *
BIG blue eyes stared up at hers.
Taige Morgan stared right back at her stepdaughter, not the least bit swayed by that projected air of innocence.
She might have been, once. But she was no longer a newbie at the mom game, and Jillian was going to have to try just a little bit harder and do more than bat her eyes to get out of this mess. The girl was fourteen years old and bordering on genius, too. She should know better than to think batting her lashes was going to do the trick.
Jillian would drive her crazy, Taige thought. Fear, frustration, and love tangled in her gut. She was a mess. And it wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon, she knew.
“You can’t let him go up there first,” Jillian said again.
“Yes.” Taige smiled. “I can. I just did.”
She’d already given Cullen, her husband, and Jillian’s very protective father, Taylor’s room number. He’d disappeared into the elevator. She was giving him a five-minute head start. Much longer than that and she might have to bail his fine ass out of jail.
Of course, it might be worth it.
And if Cullen didn’t pop Taylor one, Taige was going to. That son of a bitch had pulled her baby into his world . . . she’d warned him about doing that. She’d warned him. He hadn’t listened.
Over the past few hours, Jillian had explained just why she hadn’t been sleeping. Just why she hadn’t been eating. Just why she’d been having nightmares. And just why they’d caught her slipping out of the house. Taige sometimes wished she hadn’t trained the girl so well.
But that wouldn’t have been a blessing. As strong as Jillian was, she needed to be trained. Unfortunately, Taige now stood in Jillian’s shadow—the girl’s abilities far eclipsed her own, and it had been sheer dumb luck that she’d sensed something . . . off earlier in the day.
If Taige hadn’t picked up on that strange little vibe, they wouldn’t have realized Jillian was planning anything until the kid had already disappeared.
“Look, Mom . . .” Jillian shuffled her feet, acting like the teenager she was, for once. Sheepish, nervous, embarrassed at being caught in the act. “It’s not Taylor’s fault I was trying to sneak out. I was doing it. It was my idea. I just knew . . . well, I knew he needed me. It’s not like he told me to do it or anything.”
Taige just stared at her. “Not impressed, darling. You see . . . Taylor knows how you are. And he should have called me the second he knew something was going on with you.”
“If he’d done that, you and Dad wouldn’t have let me help.” She crossed her arms across her chest, glaring at Taige. Sullen temper sparked in those pretty eyes now.
It made Taige smile inwardly. Too often, this kid didn’t act anything like the kid she still was. Even when she was completely in the wrong, it was nice to see Jillian act like a teenager. Hell, it was even kind of nice to see her screw up, see her rebel.
Although Taige wished it had been over almost anything but this.