Treasured by Thursday
Page 83
“And text me every night.”
“Fine. Please try not to worry.”
They spoke for a few minutes before Val finally relented and hung up.
A new car drove Gabi home. There was a car that followed with more security than any one woman should ever need. She couldn’t imagine the secret service providing this kind of detail.
Andrew met her at the door with a hesitant smile. “So happy you’re home, Mrs. Blackwell.”
“Thank you, Andrew.” She looked around the living room, where nothing had changed. Hunter wasn’t there.
He’d left her side during her conversation with Val without a commitment of his return. Gwen had whispered in her ear, once her hearing had returned, that Hunter and Neil were working closely together. She’d also told Gabi that a mandatory house arrest was in order to keep her protected.
Seemed life had been slapping her in the face enough for Gabi to heed her friend’s words.
Refusing more than a couple of Motrin for the pain in her arm, Gabi moved slower than she’d have liked. As easy as it would have been to find her bed, literally, and lie in it, she opened up her computer and ran it through several security checks. She wasn’t big on social media and didn’t have to worry about eyes there. But there were a few online accounts that she dropped into and changed all her passwords.
She called and canceled her cell phone service, found another carrier, and ordered a phone to be delivered with a new number. She logged into the foreign accounts, determined nothing in them had changed, and backed out. Gabi systematically went through a list of the items she needed to replace from her missing purse. Crazy how when it blew up, everything slowed down. Credit cards . . . driver’s license.
When it was all done, Gabi pushed away from the desk and moved into the kitchen.
Andrew and Solomon stopped talking when she entered the room.
“This is going to get uncomfortable in one day if you don’t stop doing that,” she told them both.
“Sorry, Mrs. B.”
She crossed to the pantry and looked inside. “I need to go to the store,” she said.
“Uhm . . . Mr. B. suggested we stay here.”
She knew that. “Let me rephrase. I need groceries from the market. We can order them to be delivered, ask a stranger to show up, or someone can go for me.”
As it turned out, they ordered the food and Andrew went with a security guard to retrieve it.
One-handed baking wasn’t ideal, but it kept her from wondering where the hell Hunter had been gone to all day.
She had questions.
Questions only he could answer.
When she pulled the last of the cookies from the oven, the guard at the gate informed her that the police were requesting a conversation with her.
Solomon was on the phone before the team of officers were let into the house.
Connor led the police into the house and stood at the door. Both men wore uniforms with every possible toy needed tucked in their belts. One kept his side to Connor while the other scanned the room as he entered. She approached the two men and told them her name.
“Thank you for speaking with us, Mrs. Blackwell. I’m Officer Delgado. We spoke on the phone last week.”
“Yes, about the missing boy.”
“Right.”
“I hope you found him.”
The policed exchanged glances. “We did. Unfortunately he was deceased.”
Gabi felt her jaw drop. “Oh, no . . . what happened?”
“We’re treating it as a homicide. He was found inside his burned-out work van in the desert past Lancaster.”
“That’s awful.”
“His family is devastated.”
“I can’t imagine. What can I do for you? I already told you what I know.”
Officer Delgado looked at Solomon, who had just entered the room, and Connor, who was at the door. His eyes traveled over Andrew before returning to Gabi. “Didn’t your car blow up yesterday?”
Her face went blank.
Solomon moved to her side. “The car was in the shop last week.”
Delgado took a tiny step back. “You’re Mrs. Blackwell’s bodyguard?”
Solomon offered a nod.
“And who are you?” the second officer asked Connor.
“Security,” Connor said.
“And the man at the gate?”
Gabi stepped in. “My husband is a very wealthy man. We can’t be too careful.”
“I find it interesting that you have a house full of security shortly after your own life was recently spared and another was taken. I also find that dots in a line eventually connect.”
“I don’t know what happened to that boy, Officer.”
“But you know something—”
Solomon stepped between the officer and Gabi. “This meeting is over, Officer. Connor will show you out.”
“We only want to talk to you, Mrs. Blackwell. No one is accusing you of anything.”
Was that what was happening? Suddenly the presence of the cops was anything but comfortable.
“Are you arresting anyone?” Solomon asked.
Delgado met Solomon’s gaze and turned to leave. “We’ll be in touch.”
Gabi waited until after the officers left before turning to Solomon. “What the hell was that all about?”
“I don’t know.”
She glared. “That man was right. My car blowing up . . . the missing boy who was last seen in this house . . . those odds are too good to ignore. They’re connected, aren’t they?”
“This is the first I’m hearing of the kid, Mrs. B.”
She remembered the young man’s smiling face as he wired one of the televisions, envisioned him flirting with the girls. “There were a lot of people in the house that day. They could be in danger.”
“Fine. Please try not to worry.”
They spoke for a few minutes before Val finally relented and hung up.
A new car drove Gabi home. There was a car that followed with more security than any one woman should ever need. She couldn’t imagine the secret service providing this kind of detail.
Andrew met her at the door with a hesitant smile. “So happy you’re home, Mrs. Blackwell.”
“Thank you, Andrew.” She looked around the living room, where nothing had changed. Hunter wasn’t there.
He’d left her side during her conversation with Val without a commitment of his return. Gwen had whispered in her ear, once her hearing had returned, that Hunter and Neil were working closely together. She’d also told Gabi that a mandatory house arrest was in order to keep her protected.
Seemed life had been slapping her in the face enough for Gabi to heed her friend’s words.
Refusing more than a couple of Motrin for the pain in her arm, Gabi moved slower than she’d have liked. As easy as it would have been to find her bed, literally, and lie in it, she opened up her computer and ran it through several security checks. She wasn’t big on social media and didn’t have to worry about eyes there. But there were a few online accounts that she dropped into and changed all her passwords.
She called and canceled her cell phone service, found another carrier, and ordered a phone to be delivered with a new number. She logged into the foreign accounts, determined nothing in them had changed, and backed out. Gabi systematically went through a list of the items she needed to replace from her missing purse. Crazy how when it blew up, everything slowed down. Credit cards . . . driver’s license.
When it was all done, Gabi pushed away from the desk and moved into the kitchen.
Andrew and Solomon stopped talking when she entered the room.
“This is going to get uncomfortable in one day if you don’t stop doing that,” she told them both.
“Sorry, Mrs. B.”
She crossed to the pantry and looked inside. “I need to go to the store,” she said.
“Uhm . . . Mr. B. suggested we stay here.”
She knew that. “Let me rephrase. I need groceries from the market. We can order them to be delivered, ask a stranger to show up, or someone can go for me.”
As it turned out, they ordered the food and Andrew went with a security guard to retrieve it.
One-handed baking wasn’t ideal, but it kept her from wondering where the hell Hunter had been gone to all day.
She had questions.
Questions only he could answer.
When she pulled the last of the cookies from the oven, the guard at the gate informed her that the police were requesting a conversation with her.
Solomon was on the phone before the team of officers were let into the house.
Connor led the police into the house and stood at the door. Both men wore uniforms with every possible toy needed tucked in their belts. One kept his side to Connor while the other scanned the room as he entered. She approached the two men and told them her name.
“Thank you for speaking with us, Mrs. Blackwell. I’m Officer Delgado. We spoke on the phone last week.”
“Yes, about the missing boy.”
“Right.”
“I hope you found him.”
The policed exchanged glances. “We did. Unfortunately he was deceased.”
Gabi felt her jaw drop. “Oh, no . . . what happened?”
“We’re treating it as a homicide. He was found inside his burned-out work van in the desert past Lancaster.”
“That’s awful.”
“His family is devastated.”
“I can’t imagine. What can I do for you? I already told you what I know.”
Officer Delgado looked at Solomon, who had just entered the room, and Connor, who was at the door. His eyes traveled over Andrew before returning to Gabi. “Didn’t your car blow up yesterday?”
Her face went blank.
Solomon moved to her side. “The car was in the shop last week.”
Delgado took a tiny step back. “You’re Mrs. Blackwell’s bodyguard?”
Solomon offered a nod.
“And who are you?” the second officer asked Connor.
“Security,” Connor said.
“And the man at the gate?”
Gabi stepped in. “My husband is a very wealthy man. We can’t be too careful.”
“I find it interesting that you have a house full of security shortly after your own life was recently spared and another was taken. I also find that dots in a line eventually connect.”
“I don’t know what happened to that boy, Officer.”
“But you know something—”
Solomon stepped between the officer and Gabi. “This meeting is over, Officer. Connor will show you out.”
“We only want to talk to you, Mrs. Blackwell. No one is accusing you of anything.”
Was that what was happening? Suddenly the presence of the cops was anything but comfortable.
“Are you arresting anyone?” Solomon asked.
Delgado met Solomon’s gaze and turned to leave. “We’ll be in touch.”
Gabi waited until after the officers left before turning to Solomon. “What the hell was that all about?”
“I don’t know.”
She glared. “That man was right. My car blowing up . . . the missing boy who was last seen in this house . . . those odds are too good to ignore. They’re connected, aren’t they?”
“This is the first I’m hearing of the kid, Mrs. B.”
She remembered the young man’s smiling face as he wired one of the televisions, envisioned him flirting with the girls. “There were a lot of people in the house that day. They could be in danger.”
