She gives my shoulder another gentle squeeze as she dips her head at Davis, offering him a small smile.
“I asked her if she knew your drink order,” he says, answering my silent question. I feel him watching me as I take a sip. Dark, broody eyes observe me as if he’s trying to crack the case without any details.
“I need to know what’s going on, Wren. Don’t leave anything out.”
I swallow. “Jett dropped me off from family dinner. He had to run some errands, so I told him not to wait for me to get inside. He was supposed to come back later anyway. I took my time walking up the sidewalk, looking at the flowers I planted. When I walked up my steps, that’s when I saw them. Two dozen long-stemmed red roses. And I knew they were from him, even without a note.”
“From who?”
“Elias Hearst, my ex-fiancé.” The words taste like bile on my tongue. “Last night when we got home from the lake, I noticed my front door was open.”
Davis grits his teeth, jaw clenching.
“I didn’t think anything about it. Figured I forgot to latch it in our haste to get to the boat dock, but it didn’t feel right because I always lock my door. Then, I went inside and found the bathroom window was open too.”
His jaw tightens more, and I’m afraid he’s going to crack a tooth. “Why would you go in?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” I hiss. “Blame my ignorance on the sun and alcohol-infused bliss I was living in.”
“Any sign of forced entry?”
“No,” I whisper. “That part doesn't make sense.”
He nods slowly. “Is there more to the story?”
I tuck my lip into my mouth, chewing on it to the point of pain, before nodding.
“Gonna need the whole story.”
He pulls a small notebook from his pocket. And in my hometown coffee shop, I fill my friend in on the nightmare of the last six years of my life. Davis reaches a hand across the table, squeezing mine reassuringly as I wipe my tears with a napkin. Anger pulses from his broad shoulders as he scribbles more notes.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he begins. “We document everything. I’m going to need copies of the text messages and missed call logs. Photos of your injuries and anything you think is relevant. You don’t touch anything, you don’t move anything, you don’t delete anything.”
I nod, heart pounding, my stomach twisted in knots.
“We’ll file a report today to start the paper trail.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “Wish you had come to me sooner.”
“I thought it’d be over when I left.”
He offers me a tight-lipped smile.
My phone vibrates on the table, and I nearly fall out of my seat. Davis’s hands shoot out, steadying the table. “You’re okay. Go ahead and check it.”
My lawyer’s name flashes on the screen.
“Need to take it?”
I shrug. “It’s my lawyer.”
Davis nods. “Answer it.”
“Hello?”
I barely get the words out before Collin snaps immediately. “Where the hell have you been, Wren?”
I shrink, flinching at his tone. It’s not anger, but concern laced with…fear.
“I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
