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“Worry about that later.” It had been a day.
She slipped out of her ankle boots and stretched out on the bed, still in her jeans and purple knit sweater.
A ringing came from inside her purse.
Jennie had said she’d call if there were any issues at the clinic.
Gia fumbled for the phone, fingers digging past keys and a crumpled tissue until she wrapped her hand around the plastic case.
Ring.
A jolt ran through her.
Ring.
The last person to call her had been Vincente.
Ring.
What if he’d traced her number? Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Ring.
How many was that now?
She darted a glance toward the bedroom door. Could Caleb hear?
Ring.
She turned the phone over with a slow, shaking hand.
The number wasn’t one she recognized. Local area code.
A clinician from the regional medical center? A patient?
She hit the green button just before it went to voicemail.
“He—hello?”
A low, steady dial tone buzzed in her ear.
Gia dropped the phone on the bed.
By the time Zach pulled in, the last light had drained from the sky. Caleb opened the door to a gust of cold air that knifed through his shirt and carried the scent of snow. Steel gray clouds rolled in overhead, blotting out the stars.
He stepped back to let his cousin inside.
“Is that from my car?” Zach pointed at the gray tarp Caleb found in the Charger’s trunk that was serving as a makeshift drape over the sliding glass doors.
“You’ll get it back. Thanks for picking up my things.” Caleb took his duffle and the garment bag containing his funeral suit from Zach’s hands.
“Hi, Zach.”
Gia’s voice held a note of hesitation. Even before she spoke, Caleb had felt her behind him.
Zach stepped forward and tugged off his ball cap. His gaze lifted, and the second it landed on Gia, something in his face shifted. Softer.
Too soft.