Page 44 of Pretty Poison
Trudy laughed, then said, “Chicken salad it is.”
After she left, Rocky decided to google the name Lillian Travers to see why she sounded familiar. He was glad he was sitting down when the results popped up on the screen. Lillian’s daughter, Halianna, had been abducted, sexually assaulted, and strangled during her freshman year of college.
Rocky clicked through several articles. The images were a kaleidoscope of heartbreak, starting with the initial missing person report where Lillian pleaded for her daughter’s safe return. After a few months passed with no word from Halianna, the outlook grew dimmer, and Rocky could see the hope vanishing from Lillian’s expression. She tried to put on a brave face for those around her, but Rocky could see the toll it was taking on the woman.
Rocky sucked in a sharp breath when he came across the pictures taken at the press conference where the sheriff announced Halianna’s remains had been discovered by hunters in the woods. Lillian stood to the right of the podium while he spoke and fielded questions from the press. Farther down in the article, Rocky read that Lillian had given a statement too. She’d thanked those who’d worked hard to bring her Halianna back home. Though the outcome wasn’t what she’d prayed for, Lillian was grateful for the kindness that law enforcement and total strangers showed her family during the most challenging time in their lives.
Rocky recognized the look of utter devastation on Lillian’s face because he’d seen it in Julia’s eyes before she turned the gun on herself. Due to the salacious nature of the shooting, the local media outlets kept the Warners’ story in the forefront. They were constantly flashing images of Julia’s face as they described the most sordid details about the woman’s life. Facts he hadn’t been privy to before taking the case; things which made him look like a pathetic patsy or maybe even partially culpable for the murders.
The images the media used depicted Julia as a loving mother, wife, sister, and daughter. Rocky hadn’t doubted those things were true, but they only told half the story. Were there no pictures capturing the darkness and brokenness he’d witnessed? Had she been that good of an actress that she never let on about the hurt she felt? Or were the signs ignored? Wasn’t it easier to pretend life was as perfect as the depictions on social media? Those were questions that haunted him.
Rocky clicked on the next articles, which detailed the search and eventual arrest of Halianna’s killer. Lillian’s face was once again plastered on every news piece as they worked their way through pretrial, trial, and the sentencing hearing. Rocky noticed a shift in Lillian’s expression in each one. The sadness still lingered, but something else was brewing in the woman’s hazel eyes. Determination.
It might’ve started out as a quest for justice, but it morphed into so much more. The most recent article Rocky found talked about Halianna’s Hope, a nonprofit organization that Lillian formed to honor her daughter’s memory and to help other victims and their families. Rocky scanned the article and saw that they were creating a committee to lobby for stricter laws against sex offenders. Halianna’s killer had been convicted and sent to prison twice for violent sex crimes before killing her. The fucker never should’ve been free to roam the streets. Rocky wasn’t sure why Lillian Travers needed Baxter and Jacobs, but he was honored to assist her in any way he could. And maybe assisting Lillian would help him make peace with himself at long last.
A moment later, Trudy breezed through the door with his lunch. “Here you g—” She set the paper bag and bottle of soda on his desk and rushed around to his side. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” he asked. That’s when he became aware of the tears streaking down his face. Fuck. He truly was losing it. How helpful would someone like him be to Lillian when he couldn’t take care of himself? Blowing out a frustrated breath, he said, “I googled Lillian Travers’s name and realized why it sounded familiar.” He gestured to the screen and Trudy read the article over his shoulder.
“Oh,” Trudy said. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Rocky?”
He smiled up at her, then shook his head. “You’ve already done enough. Thank you.”
“For walking across the street to get your lunch?” she asked.
“It’s more than that, and you know it. You’re always looking out for us, and we’re lucky to have you.”
Trudy leaned forward and hugged Rocky tight. “I love working with you guys.” She dropped her arms from around his shoulders and stood up. “Now eat your damn lunch. Mrs. Travers is due in thirty minutes.” Then Trudy narrowed her eyes and tapped her finger against her lips as she appraised Rocky’s appearance. “You said this meeting is super important to Pete, right?”
“Yes,” Rocky said. After reading the articles, it was also important to him.
“You need to change your clothes.”
Rocky looked down at his gray T-shirt, jeans, and boots, then back up at Trudy. She was right. He’d dressed to work in the field or at his home office. “I’d already left my house for a breakfast meeting with Jonah and Felix when Peter called me.”
“It’s a good thing you keep spare clothes here at the office.”
“Do you think business casual would work, or should I go all out and wear dress pants, a pressed shirt, and a tie?”
“Either would work.” Pointing to his lunch, she said, “Eat. You’re getting too skinny.”
Was he? Rocky glanced down again but didn’t notice anything different. His clothes still fit him properly. Well, except for the jeans he’d thrown away after his run-in with Snickerdoodle the previous evening.
“Just eat,” Trudy said firmly on her way out the door. “You’re probably down to twenty-five minutes now.”
That spurred Rocky into action. Trudy hadn’t just purchased the sandwich and chips; she’d also included a juicy dill pickle and three chocolate chip cookies. Rocky’s stomach was still tied up in knots over the articles he’d read about Lillian and her daughter, Halianna, so he only ate a fraction of the food Trudy had bought for him. He stored the leftover sandwich in the refrigerator in the breakroom but tucked the cookies and chips in his desk drawer so he could grab them quickly later.
Afterward, he checked the spare clothes he had in his office closet. He decided to go with the proper slacks, dress shirt, and tie combo. The pants he chose were charcoal gray, and the shirt was a lighter hue of the same color. Rocky stared at the different ties hanging in his closet. He’d narrowed it down to lavender stripes and mint-green paisley but couldn’t decide which he liked best. Rocky quickly changed clothes and headed out to the reception area to get Trudy’s opinion.
“Which tie do you like best?” Rocky asked.
Trudy smiled when she glanced up. “You look really handsome.”
“Thanks,” he replied.
Trudy was one of the few people who didn’t call him pretty. The compliment didn’t offend Rocky’s sensibilities or threaten his masculinity, but it reminded him of the numerous headlines in Vegas that had started referring to the crime as Pretty Poison after someone leaked the contents of Julia’s goodbye letter to the press. If that wasn’t bad enough, Duggins had started calling him Pretty Poison when Asher wasn’t in the room. If Rocky ignored the jabs, Duggins would hit harder.
“You might be pretty, but you poison everything you touch,” Duggins had said one night after learning Asher wasn’t home. His husband had run to the store to pick up Rocky’s favorite ice cream to cheer him up. Duggins saw it as the perfect time to let him have it with both barrels. Rocky had told him to fuck off, but his bite had lacked venom after a terrible stretch of sleepless nights and botched attempts at intimacy. Stress, anxiety, and depression had taken a horrific toll on his libido.