Maia’s arms straightened at her sides, liquid falling from her fingertips, right before April all but tackled her into the back of the limo. The guy in a blue jacket threw their skirts and legs in and slammed the door. A member of the herd of reporters tackled her attacker and several people piled on top of them to hold himdown.
The cameraman zoomed in on the pile and caught the wide eyes and red face of London’s estrangedfather.
London shook withrage.
“Do you know why hewould—?”
“He hates Maia. Thinks she comes from trash and istrash.”
“I’ll talk to her people. Maybe he’s been harassingher.”
“He hasn’t—wouldn’t need to.” London ran his hand down his face. “Maia and I recently started datingagain.”
“Again? You have a history with thiswoman?”
London barely kept the lid on the hot pot of emotions threatening to boil over. He nodded inresponse.
“And yourdad…”
“His happiest day was the day we broke up.” Dad was sick and twisted. The monster’s happiest day was the day he’d almost murdered his wife and beat hisson.
“So he finds out you two are dating again and decides to go afterher.”
“How did he know? No one knew—we were on the DL. DeepDL.”
“I’ll add that to our list of questions.” He spun his pen around his thumb. “London, I need to tell you: because of his behavior, he will probably go to a mental institution instead ofjail.”
“Even for what he did to mymom?”
“Unless we can prove he was in his right mind at the time,yes.”
London’s head hung low. “The man is a monster. He shouldn’t get mercy; he never gave meany.”
“It’s up to the judge. I suggest you hire a lawyer and go in guns blazin’.” Bullon smiled. “He’s in custody in New York,” said Bullon. “We’ve placed a call, tagging him as ours. I don’t knowhow—”
“Where isshe?” London pointed to thescreen.
Bullon stared at him. “The woman.” He blinked. “Yourwoman. Oh man! I didn’t even think. Of course you want to see her. She’s at the police stationin—”
“Text it to me,” London called over his shoulder as he ran out the door. He had to get to Maia. He had to tell her he was sorry he brought this mess into her life; he had to tell her he still loved her, and he needed to tell her it was okay if she said goodbye—she was too good for his messylife.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Maia stuckto a plastic chair in the police station. It was one of the chairs they had in high schools in the 1970s, avocado-green and covered in anonymous scratches. If anyone ever wondered where all those chairs went, she’d point them in the rightdirection.
April occupied the seat next to her. Her head leaned against the wall behind them, and her mouth was slightly open as she slept. That was not a comfortable position for her neck, and she was going to regret falling asleep at all when she woke up, but Maia didn’t have the heart to wake her. They’d been in the same chairs for several hours after giving their statements, waiting to point out her attacker in alineup.
Aaron had texted April nonstop for five minutes before Maia was sick of it. She’d taken April’s phone and typed,Maia’s fine. She will call you when she’s finished with the police.Then, she’d turned April’s phone off and offered her friend a smile. “You’re officially offduty.”
April’s whole frame sank withrelief.
The officer in charge, Walsh, was putting together a lineup for Maia to eyeball her attacker when a shooter was brought in, high as a kite. He kicked and screamed and threw himself against the furniture and pulled Walsh off the “Icy Case,” as April had labeledit.
They were assured Walsh would be out any minute to pick up where he leftoff.
She probably wouldn’t be able to rise out of the chair when he did arrive. This whole situation was ridiculous andbaffling.
“Maia!” barked an older officer with hair so white it looked like a dusting of freshly fallensnow.
