I took an extra-long sip of water to hide my face.
“I’d left,” David said. “But as I said last night, when I saw Mark in the lobby, I thought I recognized him and turned back.”
Cooper eased back in his rolling chair. “I see.”
David’s simmering anger was almost as hard to watch as reliving the attack. “It’s okay,” I reassured him. “Everything turned out fine.”
“Fine? It’s not fine to me.” His jaw sharpened. Veins corded his forearms as he fisted his hands. “You could have been seriously hurt or—or worse. And if anything had happened to you, I . . .”
The room stilled. Confusion marred Cooper’s face at David’s extreme reaction. We barely knew each other. There was no denying our attraction, but I wasn’t his to protect. I wasn’t his responsibility. And this wasn’t his fault. So why was David acting as if none of that was true?
As if I belonged to him?
21
Outside the Chicago Police Department, I squinted up at blue sky, waiting for David since Cooper had asked for a moment alone with him.
When my handbag vibrated, I took out my phone. The screen flashed with Bill’s name. I checked over my shoulder to make sure I was alone before answering.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Bill said, urgency in his voice.
News traveled fast. Not too surprising—the legal community here wasn’t as big as one might think. I took a deep breath. “You heard?”
“Yeah. Why didn’t you let me know when you found out? You haven’t picked up anyone’s calls.”
“Cooper had me put my phone on silent,” I said. “And what do you mean when I ‘found out’?”
He sighed, sounding . . . irritated? “Look, I know you’ve been raised to keep things like this inside. I’ve learned to deal with that. But this is huge, Liv—you can’t shut me out.”
Twin threads of relief and surprise worked their way through me. My first encounter with Mark had worried Bill, but in truth, part of me had questioned how much of it was concern for my well-being . . . and how much was him seeing an opportunity to get me to leave the city.
“I’m sorry I worried you,” I said. “But I’m okay. How’d you find out?”
“Mack.”
“Mack?” I asked. “Mack Donovan?”
“Well, yeah,” Bill said as if it were obvious. “He called me when he couldn’t reach you.”
I frowned. “How’dhefind out?”
“What are you talking about? She’s his wife,” Bill said. “And who’s Cooper?”
His wife? “Davena?” I asked. “What does she have to do with this?”
With Bill’s answering silence, the hair on the back of my neck rose. Was there news about Davena? That could be anything from remission to . . .
“Is—is she okay?” I asked, panic threading my words. “Is she back in the hospital?”
“Olivia,” Bill said gently. “She passed last night. She’s gone.”
Gone?I froze. Or, I thought I had. I somehow found my ass landing hard on the metal seat of a bench. “What . . . how?”
“I don’t think Mack or Davena wanted us to know how advanced the cancer was.”
“Last time I saw her, she said the doctors weren’t optimistic. She was trying to tell me . . . and I never got to say . . .”
Could it be? All that life, light, love—gone?Without so much as a good-bye?
