dressed in drab gray prison scrubs. It was hard not to stare.
Abby stared back at Sheila openly, her eyes taking in every inch of Sheila’s face. After a moment, Abby finally turned toward Jerry, her gaze lingering at his throat a second longer than necessary.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” Her voice was low, husky.
It was unclear whom she was speaking to, so Sheila responded. “I didn’t know you’d been asking to see me. I only just found out.”
Abby nodded, then turned her attention back to the private investigator. He was rubbing his throat through his turtleneck once again. Abby caught the gesture and a small smile turned the corners of her lips. “How’ve you been, Jerry? You look well.”
It was a lie and all three of them knew it. Jerry looked older, skinnier, and more tired than he’d ever looked before Abby Maddox entered his life.
“You look exactly the same,” he said stiffly.
“I appreciate you both making the trip all the way down here.” Abby’s tone was polite. “I’m sure you’re both very busy. I don’t get that many visitors.”
“I’m surprised,” Jerry said. “You’re practically a celebrity. I’m amazed they’re not lining up.”
“My visitor’s list has to be approved by the superintendent. Needless to say, most of the people who request visits don’t get approved. But they obviously made an exception for you two.” Abby smiled. “I heard you were reinstated, Jerry. Or, should I say, resurrected .”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“The proverbial grapevine. So you’re a police officer again?”
“Nope. I’m just helping out with one investigation.”
“And that’s why you’re here. My lawyer told me this morning you might come. Your cop friend was here earlier.” Abby’s eyes narrowed slightly, a sign of displeasure. “Torrance? What an asshole.”
Sheila looked down to hide a smile.
“You told Detective Torrance you wanted to talk to Dr. Tao.” Jerry’s jaw was clenched. “She’s here now, so talk. Start with the dead bodies with your name on them. I think you know damn well this is just the beginning.”
“I don’t know anything for a fact.”
Jerry sighed and looked at Sheila. Abby had been in the room less than three minutes, and already the private investigator was frustrated.
“Why were you asking for me, Abby?” Sheila forced herself to keep her tone light and open. “Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?”
“There’s quite a bit I’d like to discuss with you, Sheila. But not here, not now. It would be a private conversation.” Abby’s expression was difficult to read. “You were with Ethan when he died. I have so many questions. Best saved for another time.”
Sheila nodded, not exactly sure how to respond. The use of her first name jarred her a little. Certainly Abby wanted some kind of closure; Ethan had been her lover, after all. But Abby was a convicted felon and possible serial killer. Sheila felt her heart harden. She owed this woman nothing.
“Can we cut to the chase?” Jerry’s hoarse voice was strained. “We’re here. I’ll ask you again. What do you want?”
“What does anybody in prison want?” Abby’s smile was sad.“I want to get out of this hellhole. I don’t want this to be my life. They’ve charged me with the murder of Diana St. Clair, and there could be more murder charges coming for the bodies they found in Ethan’s basement if the prosecuting attorney gets her way. There’s a very good chance I’ll die in here.”
“My heart bleeds for you.”
Abby’s smile faded.
Jerry cracked his knuckles. “So let’s focus. What do you know about the body that was found this morning?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Bullshit,” he said, exasperated. Sheila noticed his hands were under the table and his arms were rigid. His scar was probably burning.
As if sensing his internal struggle, Abby’s gaze fixed on his throat again, and this time it stayed there.
Abby stared back at Sheila openly, her eyes taking in every inch of Sheila’s face. After a moment, Abby finally turned toward Jerry, her gaze lingering at his throat a second longer than necessary.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” Her voice was low, husky.
It was unclear whom she was speaking to, so Sheila responded. “I didn’t know you’d been asking to see me. I only just found out.”
Abby nodded, then turned her attention back to the private investigator. He was rubbing his throat through his turtleneck once again. Abby caught the gesture and a small smile turned the corners of her lips. “How’ve you been, Jerry? You look well.”
It was a lie and all three of them knew it. Jerry looked older, skinnier, and more tired than he’d ever looked before Abby Maddox entered his life.
“You look exactly the same,” he said stiffly.
“I appreciate you both making the trip all the way down here.” Abby’s tone was polite. “I’m sure you’re both very busy. I don’t get that many visitors.”
“I’m surprised,” Jerry said. “You’re practically a celebrity. I’m amazed they’re not lining up.”
“My visitor’s list has to be approved by the superintendent. Needless to say, most of the people who request visits don’t get approved. But they obviously made an exception for you two.” Abby smiled. “I heard you were reinstated, Jerry. Or, should I say, resurrected .”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“The proverbial grapevine. So you’re a police officer again?”
“Nope. I’m just helping out with one investigation.”
“And that’s why you’re here. My lawyer told me this morning you might come. Your cop friend was here earlier.” Abby’s eyes narrowed slightly, a sign of displeasure. “Torrance? What an asshole.”
Sheila looked down to hide a smile.
“You told Detective Torrance you wanted to talk to Dr. Tao.” Jerry’s jaw was clenched. “She’s here now, so talk. Start with the dead bodies with your name on them. I think you know damn well this is just the beginning.”
“I don’t know anything for a fact.”
Jerry sighed and looked at Sheila. Abby had been in the room less than three minutes, and already the private investigator was frustrated.
“Why were you asking for me, Abby?” Sheila forced herself to keep her tone light and open. “Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?”
“There’s quite a bit I’d like to discuss with you, Sheila. But not here, not now. It would be a private conversation.” Abby’s expression was difficult to read. “You were with Ethan when he died. I have so many questions. Best saved for another time.”
Sheila nodded, not exactly sure how to respond. The use of her first name jarred her a little. Certainly Abby wanted some kind of closure; Ethan had been her lover, after all. But Abby was a convicted felon and possible serial killer. Sheila felt her heart harden. She owed this woman nothing.
“Can we cut to the chase?” Jerry’s hoarse voice was strained. “We’re here. I’ll ask you again. What do you want?”
“What does anybody in prison want?” Abby’s smile was sad.“I want to get out of this hellhole. I don’t want this to be my life. They’ve charged me with the murder of Diana St. Clair, and there could be more murder charges coming for the bodies they found in Ethan’s basement if the prosecuting attorney gets her way. There’s a very good chance I’ll die in here.”
“My heart bleeds for you.”
Abby’s smile faded.
Jerry cracked his knuckles. “So let’s focus. What do you know about the body that was found this morning?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Bullshit,” he said, exasperated. Sheila noticed his hands were under the table and his arms were rigid. His scar was probably burning.
As if sensing his internal struggle, Abby’s gaze fixed on his throat again, and this time it stayed there.
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