Page 139 of Another Girl Lost

“Not talking.”

“We must talk, Scarlett. You helped kill a woman, murdered another, and tried to suffocate a third. You put a cop in the hospital with a vicious stab wound. You called that officerDellamultiple times. And this isn’t the first time you’ve confused a woman with this Della.”

My fingernails dug into the soft white Styrofoam.

Inhaling slowly, I replayed those last moments. I’d shoved my fingers into Tanner’s eyes and the van had veered off course, hitting a ditch and falling on its side. I’d been thrown backward, my body pinging around in the metal van like a bouncing ball. When the van came to a stop, my bones hurt, blood dripped from my temple, and Tanner had been screaming,I’m going to kill you!And then he had stumbled out ofthe van, gun drawn, and shots had been fired. I was aware of Dawson talking now, but I wasn’t paying attention until his tone sharpened.

“Nineteen stitches. Your knife left a nasty gash on your victim’s neck and chest. The doctor said a few more centimeters to the left and you’d have severed her carotid artery. If she’d bled to death, you would be facing another murder charge.”

My fingers tightened around the cup.

I’d passed out on the van floor, crumpling into a heap. I’d never asked who had killed Tanner. I’d simply been grateful he was dead.

“I was there when the van crashed a decade ago. I shot and killed Tanner Reed when he drew on me. I helped pull you from the wreckage,” he said. “I’m on your side.”

I inhaled and exhaled slowly.

Dawson had killed Tanner. He’d set me free. And now he was trying to lock me away.

“Breaks my heart when I think about pulling you out of that torn metal. What happened to you in that basement should never have happened to any person.”

His jaw pulsed as he leaned forward, his knees brushing mine. The contact sent a softening wave through my body, and though I knew it was a ploy, the tenderness was comforting. “Were you always like this?” he asked. “Withdrawn, I mean? As a girl, were you outgoing?”

“You want to talk about my middle school years?” The question was almost amusing.

He tensed. “I want to start a dialogue with you. I want to help you.”

“Then call my lawyer.”

“At some point you and I are going to have to talk, Scarlett. You need to tell me what you know.”

I’d been alone for a long time. I didn’t love or embrace it, but solitude kept me safe. Now I realized how removed I was from the world.

“When did you first meet Officer Margo Larsen?”

I moistened my lips. “Is this information for the case or your own personal reference, Detective?”

He tensed and then slid back behind a blank stare. “What does that mean?”

“You know.” I smiled, closed my eyes as I released the cup. As I drew in a deep breath, the muscles in my arms and hands eased. He was on the defensive now.

“When did you decide to stalk Margo Larsen?” he pressed. “I’ve seen the portrait you left for her in her apartment. Odd.”

“Her name isn’t Margo. It’s Della.”

“She’s Officer Margo Larsen.”

“When did you start screwing Della? Did you find her, or did she find you? What itch do you have that she scratched?”

His jaw tensed. “What’s that mean?”

“Della found me. Her smile was so bright, it banished all my fears and worries. That smile lured me into Tanner Reed’s van. That smile ruined my life.”

He shifted and those knees retreated. “Margo Larsen isn’t Della.”

Frustration scraped under my skin. He didn’t believe me and likely thought—like everyone else—that I was confused. “You’re wrong. She’s Della, and she’s come back for me.”

“You?”

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