Page 21 of Little Hidden Fears

“I don’t know.”

I took a deep breath in. “I’m so angry ... at myself, at him.”

“You have a right to feel that way.”

“We had a good talk, before he ... you know, killed himself. I can’t help but wonder if something I said drove him over the edge.”

“Come on, Gigi. You’re beating yourself up over a decisionhemade ... not you,him.”

“Maybe you’re right. I just ... I haven’t had something like this happen in a long time.”

“We never know what we’re going to face in the line of work we’re in.”

He was right.

Our jobs came with risks, and today, I’d been reminded of just how harsh those risks could be.

“Dominic shot himself in his room,” I said. “I’m guessing it’s where everyone is right now.”

“I can stay with you for a few more minutes.”

“Best to look at him as soon as you can.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“I appreciate it. You’re a good friend, but you have a job to do. We can talk again later.”

Silas turned, and I saw Giovanni standing over him. He placed a hand on Silas’ shoulder and said, “Go and do what you came here to do. I’ve got her.”

Silas nodded, offering me a smile as he headed down the hall.

Giovanni took one look at me, extended his hand, and said, “Let’s get you out of here, love.”

“I don’t want to leave,” I said. “I need to stay. I need to tell everyone about my visit with Dominic. They need to know what happened.”

“There will be plenty of time for all that later. I’ll speak to Whitlock and Foley and let them know they’re welcome to comeby the house when they’re done here,ifyou’re up to talking to them.”

The thought of leaving didn’t feel good.

It felt awful, almost like a betrayal, though I didn’t know why.

I didn’t pull the trigger, I didn’t end his life, so why did I feel like I did?

CHAPTER 9

A few hours later, Foley and Whitlock came by the house. Giovanni met them at the door. They chatted for a time and then were escorted to the den, where they found me dressed in silk pajamas and fuzzy slippers, sipping a cup of tea.

They both took a seat, saying nothing at first, as they offered awkward smiles in my direction like I was a delicate damsel in distress.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” Foley asked.

Kiddo.

To Foley, the word was a term of endearment.

To me, it was a bit hysterical, given I was five years his senior, but I appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless.

“I’m a bit numb, I guess,” I said. “The more I go over my visit with Dominic, the more upset I am with myself. I keep thinking I could have prevented him from killing himself somehow.”