Page 32 of Romeo

“He was.”She clears her throat.“Any update on Ian Fletcher?”

“Not yet.But I have something I want to run by you.An idea I had late last night.”

“Okay.”

“I want you to take me through your grandfather’s estate.Show me where it happened and how you escaped.”

She pales.“I don’t want to go back there.”

“I know you don’t.But I need to be there.Boots on the ground.I want to look through his stuff and see if I can find anything that explains why someone wanted him dead.”

“Why?You said you saw crime scene photos.”

“I did.But they’re not a substitute for being there.I know it’ll be hard, so if you can’t, I completely understand.I can have Nova stay here at the house and go myself.”

She shakes her head.“No.I’ll take you.”

“You’re sure?”

She nods.“I want to catch this guy more than anything.So if this is what helps us accomplish that, then let’s do it.”

“We need to check with Lani and get clearance for you to fly.But we’ll take a private plane, so you won’t have to navigate a bunch of strangers.”

“You have a private plane?”she asks.“Not even my grandfather had that.”

It’s a joke and a welcome one, considering it’s the first bit of humor I’ve seen from her.A moment when her walls aren’t up.“I haveaccessto a private plane,” I reply.“Perk of the job.”

“That’s handy.”

The coffeepot finishes, so I pour two cups.“Do you take cream in your coffee?”

“Yeah.If you have it.Otherwise, I can just drink it black.”

“I have it.”After retrieving some of my mom’s homemade coffee creamer from the refrigerator, I pour some in two cups then carry them into the living room.“Here.”

“Thanks.”She still looks a million miles away even as she takes the mug.“I guess I should let Odie know we’re coming.”

I sit down on the other part of the couch, putting distance between us.“You let me deal with Odie.I’ll let him know.”

She turns to me.“Trying to protect me from my brother?”

“Your brother’s a jerk.I’m trying to protecthimby not giving him the chance to talk to you like that again in front of me.”

She laughs, color returning to her cheeks.“Why, Mr.Hunt, how noble of you.”

“I don’t like bullies,” I tell her truthfully.“And your brother is a bully.”

The amusement that was on her face dies in an instant.“He’s always been a bit tough.It got worse when his mom died.”

Because I sense she’s finally opening up a bit, I keep quiet, afraid that anything I say will trigger those walls again.

“I think he blamed me for it.”

“Why?”

“They were coming to pick me up from a sleepover at my friend’s house.They died on the way there.”

“I’m sorry.”