You Betrayed Me (The Cahills #3) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,141
talk to her . . . yeah, I’m sure . . . anyone would be, but still, we need to talk to her . . . okay, we’ll be there in ten, maybe less.” She clicked off. “Apparently we weren’t the first to call in Willow Valente’s death. A coworker was already checking on her when Brown and his partner got there. They’re holding her so that we can talk to her.”
“Good.” Rivers flipped on his lights, blew through the next intersection, and half a mile farther, turned onto Taylor’s Creek Road.
“She—the coworker—is more than a little freaked out.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” Rivers asked, his stomach knotting. The once sleepy little town of Riggs Crossing now was on the map. In December alone, two women had been murdered and one was missing.
And it wasn’t yet Christmas.
* * *
Restless, Rebecca unpacked her bag, folded her few sweaters, jeans, and leggings and placed them once again in the drawers of the small dresser in her hotel room. She had intended to leave.
After doing her duty with the press conference, she’d planned to go home to Seattle, to restart her life, to leave finding Megan to the police and to get as far away from James Cahill as possible. The man messed with her mind, and she didn’t need any of that, thank you very much.
But then her mother had called.
“What?” Lenora had cried when Rebecca had explained that she was returning to Seattle. “You can’t! Not until Megan’s found. You have to find her, Becky!”
“That could take a while.”
“And it will just take longer if you’re not there to rattle the police’s cages!”
“I’ve done enough ‘rattling,’” Rebecca had thrown back.
Lenora had driven her point home. “You let the police know that you won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Be the squeaky wheel, Becky,” Lenora had insisted. When Rebecca had mentioned she thought Detectives Rivers and Mendoza were all over the case, her mother had scoffed. “I doubt it, but you make sure they’re not slacking off.”
Rebecca had thought about the detectives. She wasn’t sure she liked either one—Rivers seemed odd, and Mendoza had a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Rainier, but she felt they both were on their game, that they would leave no stone unturned in locating her sister. And being here, stuck in the hotel room, spinning her wheels and sick with worry about Megan, letting her fears assail her, wasn’t healthy.
“Mom—I have responsibilities in Seattle. You know, like a job.”
“Oh, phooey! How many times have you told me you could work from anywhere as long as you have a laptop?”
Rebecca silently cursed herself for being so forthright with her mother as Lenora went on, “I’m sure Angelica will understand.”
Before she could argue, Lenora had claimed another call was coming in and disconnected.
Yeah, right.
So bogus, Mom.
But Lenora had been right about one thing. Rebecca could work from Riggs Crossing. As long as she had her laptop, an Internet connection, and electricity. Well, and inspiration. There was always that. And it was in short supply lately.
Worse yet, Angelica had given her blessing for Rebecca to stay in Riggs Crossing when Rebecca had phoned her.
“It’s where you belong. Until you find your sister. There is nothing more important than family,” Angelica had said breathlessly as she was nearly out the door to catch a flight to L.A., where she was certain the next Vision in White shop would be established. There was no arguing with her when she was in a rush. “Look, you stay there, do what you can do, and keep in touch. E-mail or text or call. This will all work out. I only pray you locate Megan, and soon. If you find out anything, call me!”
“I will.”
“Good. Gotta run if I want to catch my flight! Hopefully by this time next week, we’ll have a Southern California location! Wish me luck. Ciao!”
“Buona fortuna a te!” Rebecca had said, but Angelica was already gone, leaving Rebecca with a phone pressed to her ear as she stared out the hotel room window at the familiar street below. Suddenly, she felt very, very alone in this small, out-of-the-way town, where everyone appeared to know everyone—except her.
Megan was still missing.
Charity Spritz had been murdered.
And James Cahill was involved with Sophia Russo. That didn’t sit well. There was something about the woman that bothered her, even though they hadn’t really met. Her feelings were jaded by her sister’s opinion, but there was something about Sophia that seemed fake or suspicious or—