Page 115 of Smitten with the Single Dad

“Shit,” Gabrielle murmured. “Okay, hang on. Let me get somewhere that’s private.” It didn’t take long, then she said, “Now what?”

First, Vica told her about the bomb. Then she told her about the bomb Dom just dropped.

“I knew he had brothers, but not that Wyndham had been paying for their freedom too. I wonder if we could get those two guys from the bar to turn and help us?”

“I don’t know. They were there to pay tribute to their fallen friend like he was some kind of war veteran. And Dom said they seemed pretty impressed with all that he got away with. They don’t sound like people who would turn on theirfriend. If anything, they sound like people who would do whatever they could to keep their friend’s name clean.”

“Yeah, but maybe if we approached them individually?”

Even though Gabrielle couldn’t see her, Vica shrugged. It wasn’t that she didn’t share Gabrielle’s hope, but her optimism was on short supply these days. Someone wanted her dead so badly that they sent her a bomb. A freaking bomb! And they were willing to kill or injure many other people just to make sure she was silenced. “If you think you can get them to turn, then I guess there is no harm in trying.”

“I’ll text Dom and have him look up their credit cards, if they used them, and see if I can track them down.”

Next, Vica told Gabrielle about the Seattle police officer, Isaac Fox, and that Clint trusted him. She brought up Isaac’s contact in Oregon and that he was going to try to convince Evie Sanchez to testify against Track and help add validity to Vica’s story.

“If we have medical records of any kind, particularly the abortion—and whether there was a DNA test taken of the fetus—then it definitely helps our case.” Gabrielle made a noise that Vica couldn’t quite interpret.

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing … I’m just … I’m wondering if we should move you. I know Wyatt has been fighting to keep you on the property, but someone sent you a bomb. You’re clearly not safe there. Or at least, the people there are not safe because you’re there.”

Guilt and worry swam in Vica’s belly. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I don’t think Wyatt will allow it though. He’s convinced I’m safest here. That he can protect me.”

“I know.”

“Do you think I should get back to the mainland and into hiding?”

“I still haven’t been able to secure you a safe house. And I’ve been looking for one. But honestly, nothing has come up that I would trust enough. Someonehas their eyes on you beyond anything we can even begin to comprehend. So it’s only a matter of time until they would find you there too.”

“Let’s hope that something comes of the interrogation today with the staff.”

Gabrielle heaved a weary sigh. “Yes, let’s. But in the meantime, I think it would be best if you stayed in the house. Don’t even go down to the restaurant. Unfortunately, it’s the only place nobody has tried to get you.”

“I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You are just trying to keep your favorite client alive. I get it.”

Gabrielle’s laugh was as hollow as Vica’s joke.

They both knew this was no laughing matter and that she couldn’t stay with Wyatt and his boys for much longer before someone got seriously hurt—or worse. Wyatt had already been hurt because of her, she didn’t want to even think about something happening to one of the children.

She ended the call with Gabrielle, promising to touch base with her as soon as they heard about Evie Sanchez and whether or not she agreed to testify and join them.

The boys had finished their grilled cheese and were playing upstairs in Silas’ room. So that left her and Dom sitting at the kitchen table eating grilled cheese in silence.

She swallowed her last bite. “Can you tell me about Wyatt’s wife?” she asked, taking a sip of the watermelon lemonade he’d poured for her.

Dom finished the third triangle of his sandwich. “Sheila was great. Everybody loved her. She was kind and funny, and probably the most easygoing of all four wives.” Vica must have made a face because Dom quickly added, “But she wasn’t perfect. Everyone has flaws.”

“Oh, no, no, no. That … that was not. I’m glad she was so wonderful.”

He picked up the last piece of his grilled cheese. “Sheila was a freelance writer for several different online magazines and newspapers. She was very wordy and quick-witted. Could whip out a cheeky insult faster than anybody. The banterbetween her and Wyatt was unlike anything any of us could even try to replicate. And the crazy stories she used to come up with for the kids had everyone laughing. She’d even get puppets and act the scenes out.”

Jealousy had no place in Vica’s heart, but it was there anyway. She was jealous of a dead woman. And it made her sick to her stomach.

She’d never been one to hide her emotions very well. A glass house, or whatever they called it. Dom’s lips twisted and his eyes turned sympathetic. “You may not ever have what Wyatt and Sheila had, and so you shouldn’t. He met you at a different time in his life, and you’re exactly what he needsnow. You have your own special relationship. Don’t try or hope to replicate what he had with Sheila, because that’s not fair to you, or her.”

---