“So what do you want me to do, call the cops?”
“Yes.”
“They’d haul you in. You’d be the number one suspect.”
Trey took a deep breath. “I am prepared to deal with that.”
“Well, I’m not. Your kind didn’t treat me well last time. How much sympathy do you think I’d get this go round, huh?”
“Mr. Tal-”
“Nick.”
Trey exhaled slowly and deliberately. “Nick. This is a serious situation.”
“Don’t I know it? And my brother will deal with it in some serious manner. Which is how things always happen and how they always will until I am once again my own man.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m trying hard to stay on the right track so that I don’t need anybody acting as my conservator. Not my brother. Not Addison.” He extended his hand. “Thank you for your time. I’m sorry I threatened you. The past is the past. Let’s leave it there.”
Trey took his hand, shook it gravely. He seemed to come to a decision and reached into his jacket. He pulled out a pen and a business card, wrote something on the back of the card and handed it to Nick.
Nick held it between two fingers. “What’s this?”
“My personal cell number. If there are further incidents, please let me know.”
Nick shook his head, puzzled. “You’re offering to help me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. That’s weird. But okay.”
Trey straightened his spine. “It’s not weird. I’m an ASIS-certified premises liability agent. I can—”
“No, I mean it’s weird that you would want to help me.” He examined Trey closely. “Why would you?”
“I don’t know. But I do.”
Nick slid the card into his back pocket. He looked astonished and grateful at the same time. “In that case…thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Trey started to leave, then turned back. “You and your fiancée have been stalked by Martinez for six months, and you put me at the top of your suspect list?”
Nick shrugged. “You seem like a man who carries a grudge.”
Trey thought about that. “A valid point.”
Chapter Twenty-three
To my surprise, Trey ended up at my place again. This was highly unusual, especially for a Monday night. Also unusual was that the second we got to the shop, he went straight upstairs to my apartment without breathing a single word. I listened for the shower. Nothing.
I switched off the lights, locked the doors, and re-engaged the security system. The shop descended into darkness and silence, broken only by the blinking red lights of the alarms and the hum of electronics. I climbed the stairs and found him lying on the bed in the dark, fully dressed, still wearing his shoes. He had his hands folded on his stomach, and he was staring at the ceiling.
Okay, I thought. Plan B. So I went to the pantry and poured a giant bowl of Lucky Charms. Then I got into bed and munched cereal until he finally spoke.
“Why did I do that?” he said.
I tossed one of the marshmallow pieces into my mouth. “Do what?”
“Give Nick Talbot my personal number.”
“Oh. That.”
“He won’t call. It is clear that his brother makes the decisions, and his brother shows no inclination to deal with the problem outside of his own security team. Which is sub-par from what I’ve seen.”
“Totally sub-par.” I licked sticky crumbs from my fingers. “Is there any chance Marisa would let you take the case officially?”
He shook his head. “Not after what happened in the spring.”
The spring. So many unfortunate happenings to choose from. Trey had pulled his gun on her. He’d disobeyed her direct order and followed me to Savannah. And then he’d gotten himself mixed up as a witness in multiple murders which had resulted in much news coverage, and as Marisa was fond of reminding us, in the corporate security business, there really was such a thing as bad publicity.
I scrounged around for the last marshmallow. “She would blame me for all of this, you know.”
“Correct.”
“Because she blames me for every complication in your life.”
“Also correct.” He slipped me a sideways look. “It’s not an unfair assessment.”
“Not unfair at all. Your life was rather boring when you met me.”
He didn’t argue. I put the bowl on the bedside table and lay down next to him. The only light came from the streetlamp in the back lot. It sliced across the studio apartment in an amber swath.
“Do you miss it?” I said.
“Miss what?”
“Your boring uncomplicated life.”
“No. It was more structured. Less problematic. But it wasn’t…you know.” He rubbed his eyes. “Sometimes I try to think about what my life would be like if you hadn’t complicated it. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, like sharing the weather forecast. He caught me off guard this way again and again, delivering words that tangled my tongue and weakened my knees.
I took his hand and squeezed. “Same here.”
“Good. I’m glad. Except that now…now I’m confused again.”
“About me?”
“What? No.” He rolled his head to the side. “Why would you say that?”
“Because we were talking about…never mind. Go on.”
He ran his thumb over my knuckles, lightly. I felt a familiar tingle then, like a shot of whiskey.
“I’m confused about why I wanted to help Nick so much,” he said. “Because I did. I still do.”
“You’re feeling guilty.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You had an idea back in the day that this man was a murderer. You maintained that idea up until a few hours ago. But now you know better. And now you have to deal with the part you played in the awfulness than befell an innocent man.”
Trey considered this turn of events. “Okay. Perhaps I am feeling somewhat guilty. But that’s not the problem.”
“What is it then?”
“As you said, he’s innocent. And if he’s innocent, the evidence has to be reinterpreted in that light. It still supports the theory that Jessica’s murder was staged, but not that Nick was the person who staged it.”
“Macklin?”
“No. He would have done a better job.”
“Somebody else?”
“Yes. And I want to find out who. Whether Nick wants me
