Page 87 of Lost Cause
“You got it,” Hayden said.
Abby gave him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, but I have one more thing. Victor mentioned he inherited the mansion from his father, and Vincent inherited their family’s French estate. I want to confirm his statement.”
Hayden snapped his fingers. “Piece of cake. Anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Abby chuckled.
“Trust me, I’m not asking for more to do. Just don’t want to let you down.”
“I can almost see Hayden’s shoulders, collapsing under all of these requests,” Reece said. “Is there anything the rest of us can do to help?”
Hayden laughed. “Thanks for caring about me, Mom.”
“It’s what I do.” Reece grinned.
“Don’t worry,” Hayden said, “it’s a lot, but not more than I can handle.”
Abby glanced at Burke. “Do you have anything to add for Hayden?”
He shook his head.
“I second Reece’s thanks, Hayden.” Abby gave her teammate a broad smile. “Get back to me as soon as you can. I’m especially interested in the list of potential fences.”
He nodded.
“Then we’ll sign off.”
“Before you do,” Nolan interrupted, “don’t get so caught up in this investigation that you forget your deposition.”
“I won’t,” she said, but sounded as if it had already slipped her mind.
After she ended the call, she turned to Burke. “The deposition Nolan mentioned is for our last case. I’ve had to put it off twice, and the defense attorney is threatening legal action if I don’t show up. It’s scheduled in two days, and I’ll have to go.”
“No worries. I get it—juggling several investigations is part of the job.” And he did get it. He lived it—usually balancing multiple cases at once without blinking.
What he didn’t understand was the heaviness creeping in at the thought of Abby not being there with him. Not just on the job, but in his life.
Three days. That’s all they’d had together. And somehow when he looked ahead, she’d become part of the picture.
Was that crazy? Maybe.
But real.
The thought of moving forward without her left a hollow space in his heart.
Still—was he really ready for something more?
Just as important… was she?
22
Abby knocked on Victor’s cabin door but didn’t wait for permission to go in. The empty smell of peppermint saturated the air, probably from a mug on the table next to him. He sat in an easy chair with a traditional plaid blanket over his lap.
Victor pushed to his feet faster than she imagined he could move. He bumped into the table, sending tea sloshing from the mug, but ignored it in favor of picking up his cane.
He hobbled over to Abby and grabbed her arm, clutching so tightly it hurt. “Please tell me you didn’t find my sweet Estelle.”
“We didn’t.” Abby gently loosened his fingers.
