Della and Chase started out.
“One more thing,” Burnett said, and they turned around. “We think we know who Liam is.”
“How?” Chase asked. “There wasn’t a file on him.”
“I know,” Burnett seethed, sounding as if he remembered Chase’s breaking-and-entering oops. “But there was a missing person’s report on file with the HPD—a Liam Jones went missing three weeks ago. The report says he’d come down with a serious flu then disappeared. He lived a few blocks from the Anthonys’ funeral home.”
“So he was turned and somehow one of Anthony’s goons got ahold of him,” Della said.
“That’s the way it looks. I’d get another agent to look into it, but there were some problems in Dallas and several of our men are still cleaning up the mess there.”
“I want to work the case,” Della insisted. “The ghost wants me to work it.”
“Wants both of us to,” Chase said.
Burnett nodded. “I’ll get Liam’s information and pass it to you before you start.”
They turned again, and almost got out the door, when Burnett spoke out again. “Della? Can I have a second?”
Chase looked back, and frowned as if he didn’t like being left out of the loop.
“Go!” Burnett informed him.
Chase shot her a glance good-bye before leaving. Della, suddenly uneasy, stepped back into Holiday’s office.
Burnett listened to Chase leave before talking.
“Two things. First, is there an issue about your aunt that I should be aware of?”
Della frowned. “No. If I go to her and start asking questions, she’ll tell my dad and it … it could cause problems.” Amazing how simple that sounded, and yet how badly it hurt. “My dad already has zero trust in me, so any suspicious behavior would only make me look like more of a drugged-out problem child.”
Burnett nodded, not really happy, but apparently satisfied. “The other thing.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully.
“What?” she insisted, the pause killing her.
“When I called you earlier to inform you about the information we’d gotten on Liam and you didn’t answer, I assumed you were with Steve. I called him and told him you had mentioned going to see him. I also told him that we had buried your cousin. He seemed upset that you hadn’t told him. You might want to call him.”
She nodded. Her stomach rolled over. How she was going to explain this to Steve? Oh, I was coming to see you, but Chase showed up, so I went to his cabin instead.
Oh, damn. It wouldn’t matter that nothing had happened. She’d be hurting Steve again. What was her other option? Lie?
No, if he found out, it would only hurt him more. And he’d think she was hiding it because … because she was guilty. She wasn’t guilty, so why was she drowning in the emotion right now?
Was it fair to keep doing this to him? The thought made breathing uncomfortable. But wasn’t he doing it to her, too? He spent Monday through Thursday in the vet’s office, working side by side with Jessie. Jessie, who wasn’t bonded to Steve, but definitely had the hots for him.
Realizing Burnett stood staring at her while she indulged in her mini pity party, she took a backward step toward the door. “Thanks … I’ll call him.”
She took off, her last words repeating in her head. I’ll call him. I’ll call him. And she would, just as soon as she figured out how the heck to explain why she hadn’t gone to see him.
* * *
Della got halfway to her cabin then shifted off the trail and hid behind a clump of trees. She pulled out her phone. She had to make this right. Staring at her cell, she suddenly found it odd that he hadn’t called her. If he knew she’d buried Chan, he’d have called to check on her. Not calling wasn’t like Steve.
Was he already mad? Mad because she hadn’t called him and told him she was burying her cousin? Or did he guess she’d been with Chase? I didn’t do anything! She started preparing her not-guilty speech.
Dread built up in her chest when she realized that even if she hadn’t done anything, the simple fact that she’d relied on Chase instead of Steve was still going to hurt him.
Her head told her what she needed to do—to let him go—but her heart refused to accept it.
She swallowed a knot of pain and it fell like a lump of dough in her stomach.
Taking a deep breath, her mind still dithering, she dialed his number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then it went to voice mail.
“Hey … I’m at Shadow Falls … Burnett said he called you and … Call me, okay?”
She shut her phone and closed her eyes for a second. Steve always answered her calls.
Maybe he was busy with a client. An emergency of some sort. A dog who’d swallowed a sock, a werewolf with a thorn in his paw. That’s what she wanted to believe. What she would believe until … until she knew differently. She simply had too many real issues to start imagining one.
* * *
“Crappers! What did Burnett say?” Kylie asked.
“What did he say before or after he gave us royal hell?” Della asked, appreciating that her two roomies and best friends had skipped lunch to chat with her. Their sympathy and understanding was the only thing keeping her together sometimes.
“Yikes,” Miranda said. “Burnett’s hell reminds me of my mother’s pot roast, tough and hard to swallow.”
Della picked up her empty Diet Coke can and squeezed it into a little ball. She’d tried to sleep as Burnett ordered but had failed. In spite of feeling like an emotional wreck, she’d told them almost everything—about the werewolves at the graveyard, the vibrating box, the picture incident. She’d told them about Chase showing up, against Burnett’s orders, and about her going to see the files at his cabin.
The thing she hadn’t mentioned yet was all the Reborn stuff—that would have to wait for another day—too much spilling at one time could cripple a vampire.
She saw her phone sitting on the table and remembered she hadn’t told them about Steve, either. But that was because there was nothing to tell. And yet the fact that several hours had passed and he hadn’t called now pressed hard and heavy on her heart.
“So the names just completely disappeared?” Kylie asked, stuck on that, and with good reason—ghosts were Kylie’s thing.