Sorrow Road (Bell Elkins #5) - Julia Keller Page 0,73

hands were on her hips once more, and he was situating her on top of him. Bell resisted. Cell in hand, she rolled back over to her side of the bed. She did not want to, but she had to. Sam would not call her this late unless it was important. He was a bastard, but he respected her privacy.

She was brought up short by her ex-husband’s tone. It was livid with anger: “Is she there?”

“Sam, I don’t—”

“Is she there? I asked you a question, Belfa. I’d like an answer. I’ve been calling Carla’s cell for the past five hours. Leaving messages. She’s ignoring me.”

Bell sat up in bed. She put a hand on Clay’s chest. It was her silent way of apologizing to him for the interruption. He placed a hand on top of hers—his silent way of telling her it was okay. No more explanation was necessary. He trusted her to handle this howsoever she saw fit.

God, she loved this man.

“I don’t know where she is,” Bell said. Carla wasn’t home; she would have heard the front door open. She never slept through that. “She’s an adult. She can do as she pleases.” She could sense her ex-husband’s ire ratcheting up, even as she spoke.

“Do as she pleases,” he snapped. “Right. Right. Well, what if I told you she didn’t show up at her preliminary hearing today at Arlington Circuit Court? That she was supposed to be there at four p.m.? That her attorney—and the court clerk—have been leaving her messages all week to remind her?”

“Preliminary hearing? Sam, what the hell are you talking—”

He interrupted her with a savageness that took her aback, almost as much as the information did. “Yeah. That’s right. I didn’t tell you, Belfa. She begged me not to. Said you’d freak out. Said you had too much going on as it was. Said she’d tell you herself. Later. In her own way. So I agreed. And I got her released on her own recognizance at the arraignment last week. Hired a great attorney—a buddy of mine. He was going to set up the plea deal today.” Sam blew out some air. “I was a goddamned idiot, okay? I see that now. I didn’t even know she’d left D.C. I only found out tonight when I went by that shack she lives in and started interrogating her roommates. They finally caved. Told me she’d gone back there.” He was clearly seething. “She played me. Our daughter played me, Belfa, and I’ll tell you this—it doesn’t feel too good. It feels pretty damned bad, as a matter of fact.”

Bell had to restrain herself from pointing out to her ex-husband that, under the circumstances, his feelings were the least of her concerns.

“What’s the charge?” she said. A strangeness rose up in the wake of the words when they were applied to her child. To Carla, for God’s sake.

Was this even happening? Or had she drifted off to sleep after she and Clay had made love, and this was a bizarre and harrowing dream?

It was no dream. Sam’s voice on her cell was as bleak as she’d ever heard it.

“Shoplifting,” he said. “Destruction of property. And resisting arrest. Apparently she just kind of lost it in some store at the mall. Went off on the sales clerk. Started grabbing things and throwing them around, cramming some stuff in her backpack and slinging the rest of it on the floor. Something like that. The cops got there and she was uncooperative. She told me—she told me she’s been having flashbacks, Belfa. For the past few months. Times when she feels out of control. And one day—the day in the store—she got to the point where she thought she was going to break into a million pieces. Just shatter, like a pane of glass. That’s how she described it. She doesn’t know why she started taking stuff. Or cursing at the cops. Nothing. She can’t explain it. She just felt like she was coming apart. Exploding. When she came back to herself, she was sitting in a jail cell. I got her out of there as soon as I could. The court clerk’s an old friend of mine. Called me right away.”

“Sam—my God, Sam—why didn’t you tell me?”

His voice softened. “She begged me not to. She said she’d face the charges, do whatever they told her to do. She promised me, Belfa, that if I didn’t tell you, she’d tell you herself. In her own way.” His voice was