Wynter’s gaze turned pensive. “I looked up her name.”
I arched a brow. “You did?”
She nodded. “She represents a lot of bad people, doesn’t she?”
Well, hell, how did I answer that one?
What did that say about me that I was a client of her mom’s too?
“Yeah, she does.”
“I read the court transcript for one case. She defended a man who was clearly guilty.”
“Everyone’s entitled to a defense.”
“I know. I’m not judging her.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“I’m just wondering how she can defend murderers but is scared of you and me.”
“You have a point.”
She flashed a grin at me. “I know I do.”
“I think that’s because not much scares your mom but feelings do.”
“We make her feel?”
“We do. So she’s nervous because that’s something she can’t control.”
“I wish…”
“What do you wish?” I asked when her words waned.
“I wish that I could have known her before, you know, everything.”
Her wistfulness killed me, and I knew I sounded choked when I said, “She was awesome. A little quirky, but awesome. I loved being with her.”
“Why?”
“She loves books. She’s always reading in her spare time. I don’t think that’s changed, even though we don’t talk about that anymore.” I smiled to myself but it disappeared as I explained, “My uncle gave me this coin, and he told me it was priceless—”
“Was it?”
“No.” Fuck, the urge to strangle Grizzly was real. “But I believed him. I was showing one of my friends and he dropped it. It fell between the floorboards and into the crawl space beneath the house. I didn’t want to lose it so I went down there and tried to find it. Rachel was there.”
Wynter frowned. “In the crawl space?”
I nodded, laughing at her bewilderment. “Trust me, I was freaked out too. It was like finding a pretty Gollum under the house. She’d strung up these string lights that were battery powered and read by flashlight. It was crazy.
“When I went in, she was super still, like she could hide from me, and I… I was just worried for her.”
“I can imagine. It’s a weird thing to do, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. She’s always been unusual, though.”
Wynter surprised me by chuckling. “I’m sure she’d love to hear how you’re describing her.”
I grinned. “Yeah, let’s not tell her?”
“I won’t say a word.” She nudged me. “Keep going.”
“I think she was bullied a lot by some of the kids her age, so that’s why she used to hide down there. I started talking to her as I tried to find the coin, and she was quiet at first, then I asked her what book she was reading, and she wouldn’t shut up.” Chuckling to myself, I continued, “I found the coin but the next day, I went back.”
“And the day after too?”
I nodded. “For a few years.”
“So long?”
“It took me that long to convince her she didn’t have to hide out anymore.”
“Wow. She’s stubborn.”
“I know someone just like her,” I teased, amused when her cheeks burned bright red.
“Am I?” She peeped up at me. “Just like her?”
“You are in a lot of ways. It’s awesome.”
“Really?”
“Really. You were saying how you wished you’d met her before everything went…wrong. Talking to you is kind of like that. You’re very similar in how you do things. It’s fascinating to see.”
She swallowed. “Are you going to call her?”
“Do you mind if I text her first? So she can prepare herself? I know she wants to talk to you but I also know she’s nervous.”
A bubble of laughter escaped her. “She’s nervous to talk with me? When she got the Long Beach Butcher off from that murder charge?”
“He doesn’t mean anything to her. You do.”
Her shoulders hunched, which made me think she’d say no, but she muttered, “You can text her.”
Before she could change her mind, I reached for my phone and quickly tapped out:
Rex: Got someone here who’d like to talk with you.
Rachel: Wynter?
Rex: Yeah. Can I call?
Rachel: I’ll call. Just coming out of a meeting. I’ll be in my car in two minutes.
Rex: Okay.
Wynter was peering at my screen. “You were right about her needing to prepare herself.”
My lips twisted. “I usually am where she’s concerned.”
THIRTY-SIX
RACHEL
I was going to be sick.
I could feel it.
My stomach was churning and everything south of my throat was bubbling away like I’d swallowed ten laxatives.
Wynter wanted to talk to me.
The afternoon had turned to shit when Rex had cut the call with me then had refused to answer when I tried phoning back.
I’d been dreading that conversation, but I had no idea how long he’d be down there, and I knew it was unlikely that he wouldn’t follow Bear’s request to the letter no matter how much it hurt him.
I wanted to kill two birds with one stone, but instead, I was terrified that I’d killed off any chance Rex had of wanting to talk with me.
The anxiety that imploded inside me took me back to some darker times, making it resonate with me again how much I needed him. How much I missed him. Our impasse was one thing, but for him to ignore me was just hell.
His text message brought relief, but it was followed up with more terror.
I could literally feel the acid in my stomach eating away at the lining.
Hello, Ulcer, pleasure to meet you.
Having managed to buy myself two minutes, I wished like hell I could down a shot of vodka, but that wasn’t to be.
Instead, I plunked myself in the back seat of the car and raised the privacy screen with an order to Emile not to disturb me until I lowered it. Even if it meant driving around the block a couple times outside the Attorney General’s office where my next meeting was being held.
I sucked in a few deep breaths which almost made me more nauseated than earlier, and before I could talk myself out of it, I hit the 'connect' button.
When he answered, I quickly tapped the 'mute' button and let out a sob of relief.
“Rach?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he grumbled, “Rach? You there?”
I allowed myself a single sniffle, untapped the 'mute' button, and murmured, “Hi, Rex. Sorry, the line must be bad.”
I sounded like I'd been strangled.
“I have someone here who wants to say hello.”
There was silence, then the softest voice came down the line. “Hi, Rachel. This is Wynter.”
My mouth worked, and I whispered, “Hello, Wynter. Pleasure to meet you.”
I had no idea what to say.
Not a single clue.
I was supposed to fill in the gaps—I was the adult here.