“Oh no,” Bailey said. “I’m sorry if I came off too aggressively, because that wasn’t my intention at all. I will only use what I’ve gathered on my own, which is all public, and what your publisher tells me. People are curious, though, as to what you’ve been up to.”
“I’ve been writing a book,” she said matter-of-factly.
“There are a lot of rumors around about the title of the book and how that might affect your fiancé.”
Callie let out a dry laugh. She wanted to tell Bailey that they knew she’d been the one sitting outside of Jag’s house last night, but instead, she’d rather fuck with the little pain in the ass reporter. “He’s my ex-fiancé, and I’m still working with the publisher on the title. I actually sent them over a few more ideas this morning.”
“Care to share?”
“I do not,” she said.
“Can’t blame a girl for trying.” Bailey raised her glass before taking a slow sip. A short silence filled the air while the waitress refilled their waters and set their salads on the table.
Bailey leaned across the table. Her gaze darted left and right as if she were checking to make sure no one was paying attention. “This isn’t my place, but you’re so much better off without Jag. He’s such an asshole.”
“Really? And what makes you say that?”
Bailey cocked her head. “Well, I don’t like to talk about it, but he and I had a short thing a while ago. I had to end it because of what an arrogant dirtbag he is, but you know that.”
“Actually, I don’t because he and I didn’t break up for any other reason than my sister was murdered and I was in pain and I needed someone to blame. I chose him, but it wasn’t his fault.” Now use that in your local piece, bitch. “And this isn’t why I came here. So, Bailey, tell me. What’s the angle with this piece? What are you going to focus on?”
Bailey narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She leaned back and smoothed out her hair, letting out a long breath. “Unfortunately, your return has stirred up a lot of raw emotions for a lot of people, including family members of other victims.”
“That’s bullshit. I’ve spoken to almost all of them over the last year. They’ve been amazing with my research for the book. I’ve become very close to some, and I doubt I’m causing an uproar with them.”
“What about Kara? She split pretty quickly. Why’s that?” Bailey dug into her salad. Ruthless was the only way to describe her. “Was it just too much for her to be back in Seattle?”
Callie’s stomach churned. “I won’t speak for Kara.”
“Fair enough.” Bailey waved her fork in the air. “Why did you come back to Seattle?”
If Bailey was going to do a piece on her regardless, Callie might as well direct it as much as possible.
“I came back mostly to finish the book.”
“What’s missing?”
Callie chuckled. “Nothing, really. The publisher just wanted some fine-tuning, especially about my sister, and I thought it would be best if I came back to where it all started.”
“It’s got to be hard for you to have to constantly relive it. I’m not sure I could,” Bailey said.
“I don’t have a choice.” Callie took another gulp of her wine. Drinking on a partially empty stomach wasn’t a good idea. She waved at the waitress and pointed to her glass. “My sister was murdered, and that’s a fact I can’t change. Her killer has never been caught, nor has he killed again, that we know of. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about all the victims and their families.”
“And how do you think your book is going to help them?”
“It keeps the memory of their loved ones alive. They don’t become another statistic in a cold case sitting in some basement somewhere totally forgotten. It keeps this case relevant.”
“I suppose it does, since everyone now wants an interview with you and Chief Bowie.”
“This isn’t about me or Jag. It’s about the victims and their families. That’s your story.”
“That brings me to a question that is burning on everyone’s lips,” Bailey said.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Are you going to ask for your old job back?”
Callie bit down on her tongue to stop from laughing. All this chick cared about was herself and her job. “I have no desire to be a reporter anymore.”
“Good to know.” She glanced at her watch. “Crap. I’ve got to go.” She glanced over her shoulder.
“I’ll take care of the bill,” Callie said.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I hope when you see the piece we’re doing that you’ll change your mind and do a sit-down with me at the station. Take care.” Bailey took off so fast you’d think the building was on fire.
The waitress showed up with her second glass of wine. “Can I have a piece of chocolate cake?”
“You sure can,” the waitress said.
“Thank you.” She pulled out her phone and smiled.
Kara: Hey, Callie girl, just wanted you to know we stopped in Medford, Oregon and are going to stay for a few days. I hate to say it, but just being back in Seattle did me in.
Callie: Enjoy your travels. You and Ivy deserve it.
Kara: Thanks! And remember, when you’re done there, you’ve always got a place to lay your head with us.
Callie: Love you.
Kara: Right back at you.
As much as Callie missed Kara, she was happy Kara had been able to let go of her own obsession with the Trinket Killer and was able to find love again.
Too bad that would never happen for Callie. She touched her lips. Kissing him again was like having a
