We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek #11) - Calle J. Brookes Page 0,106
It was like he had her interests in mind as well. The other attorney had acted like what had happened with Henedy had been Izzie’s fault.
It had been such a difficult day she’d ended up practically bawling before it was over.
No one in the room had been happy.
It had been better with Mac Barratt there, though.
Still, she was exhausted when it was done.
Then there were the interviews with the TSP about the actual abduction attempt and what had happened in Brownsville. Whatever they’d discovered had been enough to have Jake satisfied she was safe.
He’d said the threat was off the streets now.
Apparently, it stemmed from what he had been investigating regarding Councilman Dennis Lee Arnold. The man had lackeys—Jake had said.
Who had wanted revenge on him for what they believed he’d done to screw up their side income.
Izzie would never fully understand any of it.
Jake was like a bear with a sore paw the entire week and a half. He was angry to have yet another case taken away from him and passed off to Callum and Evers.
He kept mumbling about a nurse from County who deserved answers.
Izzie mostly ignored him. He got that way sometimes when work would be more difficult than usual.
Izzie concentrated on doing what she had to, and helping Oliver settle in and not get eaten by Earl the Cat.
They had a completely tense relationship.
She’d only been able to see Allen twice since her return. Those had been short. He’d been busy with dealing with the break-in and his condo and the realtor showing the place and finding a house he liked.
He still hadn’t.
He wanted her to help him look. The mere idea of it terrified her. She wasn’t afraid of commitment. Not really. She didn’t want to end up like her mother, abandoned and alone.
Not that Allen would ever do that. It was just…lifelong habits were pretty hard to break.
Finally, after twelve days, she was able to get back to work. She stepped into the hospital and breathed a sigh of relief.
This meant normal again.
The only thing different was a set of plastic plants had been placed in the lobby for updated décor.
It was good to be back. Time to get back to normal.
Izzie walked into the ER with determination. She could do this.
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Wallace recognized the little nurse in the familiar green scrubs the instant she walked into the ER. He slouched further down into the waiting room chair and hoped the plastic plants obscured him from her view.
He didn’t want to be recognized. That was almost inevitable.
This was completely stupid. He had spent years finding little nooks and crannies to hide in with women at FCGH. He’d loved the excitement of it.
There wasn’t a place to hide in the hospital he didn’t already know about.
He studied Izzie for a while. She hadn’t truly looked at him. No surprise. This part of the waiting area was a bit far from the desk, and not well paid attention to.
She was so thin, now. Because of what he’d done to her. He winced, remembering how she’d looked. Her blood had stained his hands as sure as it had stained his soul.
She had a cast on her arm. He’d heard rumors of the car accident. Jennifer had told him about it herself, a look of hatred and anger in her eyes.
She despised little Izzie. Unfair of her, but…she always had hated the women Wallace worked with.
Apparently, he’d given her every reason to.
It was his fault Jennifer was so angry. His.
He’d long accepted that.
All he could do was move on. Do what he could to keep all the rest of his secrets from staining Jennifer and Reggie’s futures.
It was the last gift he could give them. He had the gun burning a hole in his pocket right now. He would see things fixed for Jennifer and Reggie—see those journals and all they contained destroyed. Forever.
Then he’d follow them into the fire.
He wasn’t supposed to touch a weapon while out on bail. He wasn’t supposed to be within five hundred feet of where Lizzie or Nikkie Jean worked or lived. It was part of the promises he’d made in order to secure his freedom.
Wanda rushed around the desk and engulfed Lizzie into her arms. She always had been well liked around here.
Wallace felt pride for her in that. Smart little thing, brave, and spunky.
Lizzie would be all right. He didn’t have to worry about her. She’d slip back into her life and would triumph over every obstacle. She always had.