I stared at the door. How many times since that awful night had I wished Mrs. Silverstein would notify me of a girl who’d brought me lunch and wouldn’t leave?
Tilly had taken the news of Lynne pretty hard. She’d seemed more hurt that I hadn’t been completely honest with her. But the look of total betrayal when she thought I’d chosen my career over her was a knife in the gut every time the image ran through my head. I hadn’t seen it that way at the time; I would’ve been there for her, but every time I came to work and didn’t phone my legal department, I imagined myself stomping the knife in her back even deeper.
I hadn’t heard more from John. Perhaps I could finish the project and sign off on everything without incident. The man must not have found anything on Tilly. Of course, how would I know?
Matthew snapped his fingers. “You’re spacing on me again. Woman's problems?”
“You’re right. You’re stepping out of bounds.”
Matthew’s lips pressed together, and he snatched up his tablet like well then.
I should apologize. My phone rang. Wes. Was he calling for a golf date? Cuz I could get lost in eighteen holes for a while. It’d take days of eighteen holes to think through the mess I’d made of my life.
“Just a minute,” I told Matthew, then answered.
“What. The hell. Is going on?” Wes’s voice shook. He was livid.
“What are you talking about? Wait.” I sat forward. “Is Tilly okay? Did that bastard get to her?”
“No, Tilly’s not okay, fuckwad. Mara just bailed her out. Where the hell were you?”
I slammed my hand on the table. Matthew jumped but stayed where he was. “Where is she?”
“Not Arkham anymore, no thanks to you. Mara and I barely got the story out of her in the first place. Then she was incoherent when Mara and I didn’t know you two were seeing each other. Why the hell would you keep that secret?”
I sank my face into my free hand. “We haven’t talked much in the last few weeks. I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, with Tilly, I hear. How is all this shit connected?”
“Where is she?” The only thing pushing to the front of my mind was Tilly’s well-being. She’d been arrested and thrown in jail. For how long?
Wes let out a breath of frustration. “She’s home. She only called because she was frantic to make the first shift of her new job since that asshole blasted her career.”
My Tilly wasn’t going to sit at home and lose hope. “When does she leave for work?”
It was four o’clock on a Friday. Where would she be working?
“Not till tonight. I guess it’s some night-shift job stocking shelves.”
I shot up. Matthew’s eyes widened. He’d been riveted to my side of the conversation. Tilly was going to be working herself into the ground all night long?
Meanwhile, who the fuck beat that kid and was getting away with it?
“Wes, you helped out Mara with some legal issues, right?”
“No? Oh, you mean the sleazy professor. I would’ve done that whether she wanted me to or not.”
I caught Matthew’s gaze. “Your partner’s still a cop, right?”
“Yup.”
“Does he know legal shit?”
Matthew rolled his eyes. “Please, half his job is pleasing or pissing off lawyers.”
“What about cases of child abuse? Does he deal with that?”
He sobered. “More than anyone would realize.”
I hit the speaker on the phone. “Okay, guys. I need some help.”
Chapter 15
Tilly
I slogged into my place. The hot July sun was already up, and it wasn’t even eight in the morning.
My muscles ached. My job—my former job—had been active, but it was nothing like my new one. It was moving my body for eight hours up and down stools, filling bins, lining goods on shelves, emptying boxes.
I’d missed the entire weekend. Work, sleep, repeat was all I’d done.
Because now I had to pay Mara back the bail money. But I now had a court-appointed lawyer. So there was that.
I trudged to my computer. No messages. Nothing on my calendar. I didn’t have another shift until the weekend. That meant when I woke up, I’d have to find another job.
Speaking of work. I pulled up the email from my boss at the school. I had resigned, effective immediately. There was no use putting him in the difficult position of prolonging the inevitable. Clearing my name against Mr. Woods’s accusations might prove impossible.
Kicking off my shoes, I didn’t bother with my clothing. I collapsed into bed and threw an arm over my face. The inability of my blinds to keep out the sun had escaped my notice before now. They were threadbare, and light shone right onto the bed.
My phone rang.
Dammit. Who the hell would bother me at this ungodly hour?
I didn’t recognize the number but that wasn’t unusual during the past week.
“Tilly Johnson?” It was a woman’s voice, someone I didn’t know.
“Yep.” I kept my arm over my face.
“I’m Luna O’Donnell, the attorney who’s been hired for your case.”
“Oh, the court-appointed one?” But the guy who’d been at my arraignment had been, well, a guy. And clearly unimpressed with my suspicions in Charlie’s case.
“No, ma’am. Flynn Halstengard hired me.” I bolted upright and almost dropped the phone. Luna kept talking. “I have some documents to go over with you, and then some questions about your experience with Charles Woods and his dad, John Woods. What time can you meet?”
“Flynn hired you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What about his precious business?” Bitterness seeped through my tone, but I was beyond caring.
“The corporation has attorneys assigned to it in that regard. I’m dedicated solely to you.”
I couldn’t respond. He’d hired me a lawyer. After he’d taken care of his own company. I wasn’t nothing to him, but I wasn’t his priority, either.
His best friend hadn’t even known about us. Flynn was so considerate
