Page 107 of Secret Obsession
I nod my greeting and follow him to the mats in the far corner. We do a range of calisthenics and cardio, stretching… He’s got earbuds in, too, so I don’t feel too bad keeping mine in and eavesdropping on Willow’s conversation.
There’s a tinkling, like scraping of glass across the floor.
“You said there was another break-in?” Willow asks.
I suck in a sharp breath.
“Yes,” the detective answers. Her voice is softer, perhaps farther away. “Unfortunately, the woman was home at the time.”
Willow doesn’t reply.
“She’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, gosh. Is she… will she be okay?”
“You okay, dude?” BJ waves his hand in front of my face.
I jerk, then slap his fucking hand away. “Fine,” I grit out.
“You were just standing there, staring at the wall like you were zoning out—”
“Just thinking,” I mutter.
“…brain damage,” the detective is saying.
I grab some weights and put them beside a mat. We go through our warm-up, and soon I’m breathing as hard as I imagine Willow is. The same asshole who broke into her apartment broke into someone else’s—and that woman wasn’t spared any pain.
“Wow,” Willow murmurs. “That’s so scary.”
“As you can imagine, it’s hard for us to tell if there was an actual robbery. Since our second victim isn’t able to give us any information, and her apartment was badly vandalized. Did you recover your electronics, expensive items? Things of that nature?”
“I have my laptop. It was in my bag, I think Miles grabbed it and some clothes when the officers were here.” Silence, then, “I don’t think anything else was taken. Is that a bad sign?”
“It could indicate that the perpetrator broke in for a different reason. And it was only luck that you weren’t home…”
I’m going to be sick.
The detective clears her throat. I think it’s her, anyway, because she has a nasally voice. And she continues speaking like she didn’t just traumatize Willow.
“Have you noticed anything unusual? Did you have any altercations with anyone leading up to the break-in?”
“Don’t say it,” I mutter.
“What’s that?” BJ calls.
I wave him off.
“Well…” Willow makes a noise. “There was a guy who was messing with me at Prime, but nothing came of it. We left, and that was that.”
“Hmm,” the detective says.
I don’t like her fucking tone.
But also—Willow better not fucking say another word. She and I both know it isn’t him—he’s packed in Steele’s family’s meat freezer, for fuck’s sake. If the detective goes down that road, she won’t find any trace of him.
“I’m sorry, Detective, I’ve got to get to an appointment. I can come another time? Nothing is jumping out at me.”
“Of course, Ms. Reed. Thank you for your time. Do you mind if I look around further?”
