I’m not even sure he believes her now.
“It was only a matter of time before the police found me since the tellers who were there that night knew me. I stumbled home, grabbed my bag, and what I could carry along with Gizmo, and I’ve been moving ever since then. Hitchhiking my way north. Mostly walking, though. Doing odd jobs here and there to make cash when I could.” She peeks up at me, offering me a tentative near-smile. “The longest I’ve ever stayed anywhere is here, in McBride Mountain.”
Attorney Snow releases a heavy breath, clipping his pen to the pad and settling back slightly in the chair. “Well, obviously the goal will be to try to keep you from being charged as an accomplice in this, because you’re right. It will look like you were casing the bank with him and only pretended to be a hostage when you were actually in on the whole thing, especially since you disappeared. But we have to be able to give them something. Some information that could lead them to the arrest of the men who were actually responsible, if we have any chance of that happening.”
Lucky nods. “Then it’s a good thing I know Brad’s real name.”
The shoulders under the silk suit tighten slightly, and Snow tilts his head. “And how do you know that?”
“Because he wasn’t as careful as he thought he was. I can identify him. And that might lead to other members of his crew, too.”
A slow smile spreads across Attorney Snow’s face.
It should be reassuring, but a chill rolls down my spine instead.
“Well”—he nods slowly—“that certainly is something.”
17
LIAM
I ease open the cabin door to complete silence.
It may seem empty, but Lucky’s scent permeates the air, her presence very real in the space, even if I don’t see her or hear her.
The living room and kitchen stand unused, despite having encouraged her to come down and eat or read by the fireplace.
Which means she probably hasn’t moved since I left to go talk to Killian and Connor over an hour ago.
We needed to debrief after the unexpected meeting with Snow instead of Truman, to regroup after the man told us—in no uncertain terms—how precarious Lucky’s situation really is.
I shouldn’t have left her…
Worry burns a hole through my stomach as I climb the stairs to the loft and find Lucky sitting in the chair in the corner with Gizmo curled up next to her, petting him almost absently as she stares straight ahead at nothing—not down at the book she told me she was coming up here to read.
In all the time I was gone, she hasn’t turned a single page.
Her other hand still rests spread out across it, holding the book open in the same place it was when I kissed her goodbye and she insisted she was okay.
Which she definitely is not.
She’s a million miles away.
That glassy look in her eyes doesn’t fade as I watch her. She doesn’t even see me here or react when Giz lifts his head and wags his tail, excited for my return and anticipating my approach.
The fact that she’s practically catatonic is likely the only reason he didn’t already leap from the chair and bolt down to greet me at the door the moment I opened it.
I draw in a heavy breath, then walk over and close the book, setting it on the table beside her.
Lucky glances up at me, her eyes clearing. “What’d you do that for?”
“Because you weren’t reading it, anyway.”
I glance at the title I hadn’t bothered to check when she grabbed it from the shelf down near the fireplace earlier, cringing slightly at her choice of reading materials.
Othello…
A story about manipulation and deceit of someone who trusts you wouldn’t be high on my list of options for her right now, but I doubt she even read the spine when she took it or glanced down at the first page.
