“I just don’t see her doing anything that would endanger her kid, you know?”
“Right. Well, we are exploring other theories,” said Burrows.
“What other theories?” Townsend asked warily.
Burrows ignored Townsend’s question and asked one of his own. “Has Talia ever mentioned feeling threatened by anyone? Possibly someone from her past?”
Townsend hesitated; it didn’t feel wise to mention this, but if it meant tracking down the possible killer after him and Talia, then it was worth it. “This is going to sound a little crazy.”
“Try me.”
“You have to understand that my mom is ... kind of nuts. She thinks she’s being protective but”—Townsend shook his head—“I don’t know anyone else whose parent would hire a private investigator to spy on their girlfriend.”
Burrows raised his brows. “Your mother had Talia followed?”
“Like I said, she’s nuts, and I told her to fire the guy. Luckily, Talia has no idea that my mom was having her tailed, though shedidknow a PI was following her. And she told me ...” Again, Townsend paused.
“What did she tell you?”
Whatever. He was just going to say it. Maybe it could help. “She thought the PI was hired by her ex-boyfriend’s parents.”
“Why would she think that?”
“I don’t know. I guess things didn’t end well between them.” Townsend hadn’t really asked questions; he was just relieved Talia didn’t suspect his mother.
But now, lying restless beside his snoring fiancée, Townsend wonders why he hadn’t asked for the full story about Talia’s ex. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t really care what happened in Talia’s life before him, instead choosing to focus on the new life that they’re building together.
Or maybe he’s afraid of what he’ll find out.
He’s about to close his eyes, to make one last attempt at sleep before getting up for the day, when he hears it: a muffled thumping that he can’t place.
No, wait, he knows what that sound is—it’s a fist bashing against his door.
“Oh, my God.” Talia shoots up next to him, her hand clutching her chest. “Is that her?”
“She can’t get in.” Townsend tries to sound calm, even as his palms go slick with sweat. “I’ll call the front desk. They’ll take care of her.”
“She already got past them. What are they going to do?”
The banging subsides, and Townsend allows himself to exhale. However, just as quickly, the rhythmic pounding of Meera’s fist is replaced with a series of high-pitched beeps.
Talia gasps. “Does she know the key code?”
If Meeradidknow his key code, she certainly hadn’t learned it from him. “She didn’t use it when she came over earlier.”
“She was here earlier?”
Townsend ignores this question. “Call 911,” he tells her. “And stay here.” Throwing the blankets off himself, he hurtles to the front door.
He arrives just in time to see Meera burst in. And she looks angry enough to kill.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Meera
It’s four in the morning. Best case scenario, Townsend is fast asleep—and, ideally, alone.
Meera sneaks past the front desk and knocks loudly enough on his door to wake him. No answer. With a hesitant finger, she touches the keypad on his door, and it lights up like magic, illuminating the dark hallway. Then she remembers something Talia told her nearly a year ago, when she and Townsend were first starting to get serious:He changed the key code on his door to my birthday. Isn’t that sweet?
