Page 36 of The Perfect Deception

“I’ve been piecing together details about Hope House,” she says, her voice steady. “These photos are just a part of the puzzle.”

Shit.

“I don’t know what you think you’ve found, Frankie,” I say. “But whatever it is, it has nothing to do with me. I have no idea what Hope House is, nor do I know who these children are.”

“Alrighty then. Can we get back to dinner?”

I lean forward and take her hands in mine, giving them both a supportive squeeze. “I’m sorry, Francesca. I know you’ve been working long and hard on this serial killer case and maybe you thought you had a lead. But I have no idea what any of this is.”

Her eyes go soft, and she nods slowly. “Okay, I just thought?—”

“It’s okay. Maybe the case is getting to your head. Maybe we need to have another weekend getaway to help you recharge your batteries. One where we both sleep at night.”

She shakes her head quickly. “No, I can’t. There’s too much work to be done and we’re getting closer to ID’ing this guy. I can feel it.”

“Fine,” I sigh and scrub my hand over my face. “I can’t make you do something you don’t want to do, Francesca. But how will you feel if you miss something, and this guy kills again?” It’s a low blow and the look of betrayal on her face tells me she thinks so, too.Perfect.“I just hope you can live with yourself.”

Slowly, she frees her hands from mine and her gaze turns to the entrée in front of her. “You ask what’s bothering me and then you turn it around on me? That’s low. Damien.”

“Maybe so but I know how badly you want to catch this guy, and you said yourself that you’re close. Why not reset your mind for the last leg of the race? We’ll spend a weekend away and if another murder happens, I’ll charter a helicopter and get you back to the city.” I have a plan, and this situation is the only sign I need that this is exactly what must happen next.

“You have a place in mind?” she asks easily.

I shrug and return to her charming billionaire boyfriend. “Let’s just say that I’ve been thinking a lot about you in a bikini.”

When the corners of her mouth twitch, I know I’ve won. “I’ll talk to the captain.”

“Three-day weekend coming up, right? Let’s do it then, no permission necessary.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Frankie

Damien is right. I haven’t been myself for the past few days. I’m over tired which is messing with my focus. At least that’s what Jay and Damien keep saying.

I disagree.

In fact, I think they’re both full of shit. But I have another reason for agreeing with Damien’s little getaway, however, because he’s not the only one who can manipulate people.

“Are you sure this is the right way to go, DeMarco?” My captain is staring at me as if I’m an alien.

I nod. “It is. I can’t say without a doubt that this is Damien but if I think so then maybe the killer thinks so too.”

He leans back with a proud grin. “And you want to take him off the board for a couple of days?”

I nod again. “I do. And I plan to get some answers.”

He holds up his hands. “Hang on, you want to interrogate your billionaire boyfriend?”

“Not interrogate,” I clarify. “I just want some answers and if we’re both relaxed, then I’ll get more information out of him.” Hopefully. Damien is a man who keeps his emotions—and his life—close to his chest.

But it also means that I don’t need to feel guilty about asking him for information. “He’ll be safe and maybe I’ll get what I need to catch this asshole.”

The captain stands with his hands on his hips, paunch belly pushing against two buttons more than is wise before he lets out a long sigh. “Keep your phone on. Nice dress.” His grin is playful as he takes in my green sundress and strappy sandals.

“Thanks.”

He’s shaking his head like he thinks this is a bad idea. “Be careful and be smart, Francesca.”

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