Page 5 of Call Back

A warm smile spread across his face, but wariness filled his eyes. “Let’s get our coffee and sit before we talk.”

We walked silently to the coffee shop. He paid for both of our drinks and then suggested we sit outside at the ice cream shop tables across the street.

As soon as we were settled at one of the folding tables, he asked, “How are you holding up after everything?”

I took a sip of my coffee and lifted one shoulder into a slight shrug. “Okay. Still sore, but I’m getting better.”

“Brady says you’re having nightmares.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Brady’s been talking to you about me?”

He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Not really. I pressed him. I suggested you see a trauma counselor, but he insisted you were fine.”

Brady had never mentioned the possibility to me, not that I would have gone. “And the subject of my nightmares came up during your conversation?”

He rested his hand on the table and leaned closer. “No. I asked him a few questions about you. The sort of thing I’d do to check up on a trauma victim. You know, ‘How’s Magnolia? Is she having any anxiety? Any nightmares?’ When he didn’t deny the nightmares, I figured you were probably plagued by them.” He looked into my eyes. “You were beaten and nearly killed, Magnolia. Then your attacker was shot to death in front of you. By me. It was a traumatic experience for both of us. There’s no shame in being anxious.”

I set my coffee cup on the table. “I’m fine.”

“Sometimes it helps to talk about an experience like that, and I know you’re not talking to Brady, which seems a little odd.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end again. “I’m a private person.”

“Private enough that you took off ten years ago without a single word to anyone?”

I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest, instead forcing myself to look steady and unaffected. “I hurt my mother terribly when I took off to become an actress, and now that I’m back, I’m trying to make amends for my thoughtlessness.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any painful memories,” he said, his face shifting into a sympathetic mask. I’d seen worse acting on a few Off-Off Broadway productions. “Since you and Brady are becoming closer, I thought I would offer to be a friendly ear. You and I shared the experience, so I thought it might be easier for you to talk to me.”

I struggled to control my fear. “I already gave my statement.”

“Oh, I know,” he said kindly. “This is off the record. Friend to friend.”

The corners of my mouth tilted up into a smile, and I tried to relax my cheek muscles to make it look more natural. “That’s very kind of you, but I think I’ve processed the situation.”

“This isn’t easy for me to admit,” he said, looking down at his coffee cup before returning his gaze to me. “But I need to talk about it too.”

“Maybe you should be the one seeing a trauma counselor,” I said in a teasing tone.

“I thought it might be better to talk to you. That’s why support groups work so well. You can share your feelings with someone who understands.”

He held my gaze, and I could see he wasn’t just going to let this go. Maybe it would be in my best interest to reiterate that I was sticking with his version of the story.

“That’s probably a good idea.” I broke eye contact, wanting to look demure, and picked up my cup again. “But I don’t like talking about it, much less thinking about it.”

“I understand. But talking about it will probably help with the nightmares.” He paused. “You said Lopez wanted something, but you didn’t know what. Has that become any clearer since Saturday night?”

I took a sip of coffee, forcing it down my tightened throat. Play a role. I was a clueless victim. “No. He just kept asking where it was, and when I asked what he was talking about, he said I already knew.” I was lying, but I was playing my role so well I almost believed it. However, the look on Owen’s face suggested he wasn’t buying it.

“I don’t understand why he’d go to so much trouble to attack you if you didn’t have it.”

“I don’t even know what it could be.”

“That’s what you said the other night, but you also suggested he might have been after the money that went missing when your father disappeared.” His eyes locked on mine. “Have you considered it might not be money?”

I blinked, feigning confusion. I was pretty damn sure he knew it was gold and was trying to get me to admit it. “What could it possibly be? A safety deposit key like Brady suggested?”

“No. Something else.”

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