Page 151 of Another Girl Lost

“No. I kind of like it.”

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It offers me insight into Scarlett. Maybe even myself.”

“How so?”

“Della is Scarlett’s obsession. If you can identify a person’s fixation, you’ll understand them better.”

“What are you fixated on?”

She laughed. “We don’t have enough hours in the day.”

Damn, but he liked her. “Are you sure you want to stay here?”

“Of course.” A smile flickered on her lips. “Good to be home.”

As she moved toward the window that faced the street, she stopped. She sucked in a quick breath and stared down at Scarlett’s warehouse.

“Assault charges have been filed against Scarlett,” he said.

As if he’d not spoken, Margo pressed her hand to her side as if it hurt. “Why did she choose Lynn Yeats as a victim?”

“Scarlett wanted to know if Lynn was aware of Tanner’s activities.”

“Lynn’s head was wrapped in plastic. She was on the verge of suffocating. Hard to ask questions of a dead person. Whoever took her wanted her dead.”

“Or maybe it was a tactic to scare the shit out of her,” Dawson said. “Remind her of how Sandra Taylor might have died.”

“So she could reveal her secrets?”

“Maybe,” he said.

“Fair enough. But why would Scarlett kill Tiffany? Scarlett’s gone out of her way to help that woman.”

“Manner of death was a blow to the back of the head. Maybe it was a moment of anger and frustration. Tiffany was stalking off and Scarlett lashed out.”

“Has the DNA taken from Sandra’s body come in yet?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

She faced him, looking mildly curious. “When it does, are you afraid it’ll prove I’m Della?”

The worry had stalked him for days. Scarlett was so convinced. “Are you?”

Her smile was small, half-hearted. “If I were Della, then I’d have a long and sad story. My guess is that she was a girl with a broken family and was so bruised, she was easy prey for a charming man who promised a family and stability.” She drew in a breath.

Was she relating to the combined experiences of the victims she’d helped over the years, or was she talking about herself?

“And then, he stopped being so nice. That’s how it goes, right? He became very abusive, making her do terrible things. He locked her ina box under his bed while he ate his breakfast or screwed his girlfriend. Amazing what can be heard from a box under the bed.”

Despite all the legal ramifications of what she could be saying, he heard pain burning under the words, and his heart broke for her. He’d have pulled her into his arms if he thought she’d accept tenderness.

“Who are we talking about?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Any one of a thousand different Dellas I’ve helped in my career. They’re all very much alike. Hard to judge a lost soul.”

“You’ve got a reputation. I asked around. You’ve had a few questionable arrests with human traffickers.”

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